Charlottesville’s twelfth-annual Cville Veg Fest — a beloved festival celebrating all things vegan — turned a stretch of blacktop and muraled walls into a kaleidoscope of color, sound and most notably, taste. I made the effort to sample as many of the festival’s offerings as I could, and even still, I was left wanting more.
Beginning in 1996, the festival is now a staple of the city’s fall calendar. Free-to-enter, it drew crowds with live music, family activities, advocacy booths and dozens of vendors, proving that vegan food can be both indulgent and innovative.
Though I ventured to the festival to taste the myriad of delicious treats, Cville Veg Fest proved to be much more than a food fair. The event was hosted by Freddy Jackson of LoveNoEgo — a fundraising community movement centered on compassion, awareness and young-adult empowerment. The festival’s mission, according to its organizers, is rooted in nonviolence — a call to resist not only animal exploitation but also racism, sexism, homophobia and other forms of systemic harm.
In selecting which mouth-watering food vendors I would be ordering from, I passed by attendees purchasing a plethora of pun-filled vegan merch. In particular, “Kale Yeah!” T-shirts drew steady laughs.
Despite the festival’s powerful messages, food still commanded center stage. I, for one, took full advantage of the opportunity to eat my way through the grounds of the park.
To start, I reached for a mango smoothie from Tealicious Café, its vivid yellow color catching my eye. Topped with translucent coconut jellies, the drink was thick enough to eat with a spoon, its texture somewhere between a milkshake and a slushie. Sweet, tropical and luxuriously creamy, it was the perfect first sip on a sweltering afternoon — a small, icy reprieve before diving into heavier dishes.
From there, I tried Ryba’s Pierogi, where four golden potato-and-dill dumplings came nestled beside a scoop of caramelized onions and a cup of beet-pink crema. Each pierogi had crisped edges that gave way to a pillowy interior, warm and comforting like a childhood favorite. The tangy crema cut through the starch, while the onions added an earthy sweetness. It was a plate that felt both rustic and celebratory — proof that plant-based food can carry the weight of tradition.
Next up was heartier fare, a Supreme Cheesesteak from Philly Vegan. The sandwich arrived overflowing, its hoagie bun toasted lightly on the inside, pillowy on the outside. Inside, plant-based steak mingled with sautéed mushrooms, onions and peppers, all blanketed by a generous pour of molten cashew vegan cheese sauce. Fries dusted with their signature “Philly Blazian Seasoning” crowded the container, daring me to finish the entire meal — which I did, shamelessly. Each bite was indulgent, salty and messy in the best way.
The star of the afternoon, however, was a vegan take on Taco Bell’s “Crunchwrap” from Botanical Plant Based Fare. Grilled until golden brown and neatly folded, the wrap crackled slightly as I bit through the tortilla into layers of seasoned Impossible meat, shredded lettuce, tomato and a tostada shell tucked inside for crunch. Cashew nacho cheese seeped into every pocket, binding the fillings together. On the side, a cup of cashew crema offered a cool, tangy dip. More than any other dish, this Crunchwrap captured the festival’s ethos — fun, nostalgic and wildly inventive without sacrificing flavor.
Dessert came from Top Drawer Sweets in the form of a chocolate cookie stuffed with vegan peanut butter fudge and crusted with pretzel pieces. The outside was glossy and dark, the pretzels adding crunch and salt, while the interior was molten and gooey. Eating it in the sun, fudge clinging to my fingers, felt like the perfect, indulgent finish to the day.
At every turn of the Cville Veg Fest, food and activism blurred together, demonstrating how choices at the plate ripple outward into larger conversations about health, justice and sustainability. In a city that already prides itself on its food culture, Cville Veg Fest stood out as a reminder — eating plants can be far more indulgent, creative and radical than one might expect.