Veggie Thursdays and vegan surprises! How Ghent became a plant-based paradise

In 2014, 13% of the population of this Belgian city described themselves as flexitarian. This year, 83% did. Here is how everyone was convinced to eat their greens – and love them

S ixty bowls of slime-green soup sit waiting for the children to arrive. Pupils rush in from their morning lessons, grab the bowls by the handles and start slurping. No complaints, no refusals. (OK, maybe a few “bleurgh” faces.) Chicory soup dispatched, they get stuck into the main course: falafel, Mediterranean vegetable tagine and couscous. Some ask for seconds; most grab a piece of fruit for dessert and run out to play.

This is a typical Thursday lunchtime in BS De Stadspoort primary school in Ghent, Belgium. Similar meat-free menus are being eaten in other schools and nurseries across the city, plus community centres, care homes and assisted living facilities, not to mention many work canteens and restaurants. Thursday in Ghent is officially “Veggie Day” , with residents encouraged to eschew any meat or fish. So how did a city get its children – and everyone else – to eat their greens?

It didn’t happen overnight. “The success story of Ghent is one where we had an amazing grassroots movement, with people asking for more climate action. But the magic happened when politicians actually listened and implemented policy to introduce the Thursday Veggie Day in 2009,” says Vanessa Debruyne, the head of communications for the nonprofit organisation ProVeg Belgium , who is showing me around town. “It got the ball rolling, companies and restaurants joined, the population got used to it, and more entrepreneurs made the move to plant-based. We’ve been unstoppable ever since! Ghent is the best town in Belgium for plant-based food.”

Veggie day was just the start, agrees Hafsa El-Bazioui, the Green deputy mayor of Ghent, who has cycled over to join us (the city centre has been largely car-free since 2017). “A few years ago, we changed to prioritise plant-based protein,” she says. In 2021, the Flemish government launched the Green Deal Protein Shift – a commitment to switch the ratio of animal to plant proteins consumed from 60:40 to 40:60 by 2030. Ghent has already reached the target.

As well as vegetarian Thursdays and vegetarian options every day, school caterers have turned traditional meat dishes such as burgers, sausages and meatballs into hybrids, cutting out at least half the beef or pork and replacing them with, say, lentils. Stews might combine meat with chickpeas or beans. An incredible amount of effort is put in to making each dish taste good: they are screened by a “taste panel” made up of dietitians, chefs, childcare professionals and people with sensitivities to flavour, bitterness, texture and mouthfeel. Recipes are constantly modified and improved after feedback from children, parents and school staff. As a result, children get to eat the food they know and like, but the dishes are healthier and better for the planet – Ghent has reduced the carbon footprint of its school meals by 38% since 2018.

Although she is a vegan herself, El-Bazioui believes reducing meat consumption across the board is the most effective and achievable policy, rather than trying to convince people to cut it out altogether. “When you approach a lot of people, the impact is more than if you focus on a small group of vegans,” she says. “That’s my philosophy in food, in politics, in life.”

This stealth approach is echoed all over the city. I pop in to the Viernulvier art centre , AKA De Vooruit, for a chat with Tom De Vleesschauwer, its kitchen coordinator – De Vooruit is as popular for its large art deco cafe as for its programme of theatre, dance, film and music. “A few years ago, we made oat milk the default: if you don’t ask for cow’s milk, you get oat,” says De Vleesschauwer. “About 90% of customers now have oat milk. If we had a sign saying you can choose, it would only be 10-20%.”

There have been other changes in De Vooruit’s cafe, too. The soup is now always vegan; the dish of the day is vegetarian; the staff and performers are served a daily “ Ottolenghi -style vegetarian buffet” instead of cheese and charcuterie. And, as in the school canteens, the few meat dishes on the menu – today just spaghetti bolognese and meatballs in tomato sauce – have been hybridised. “We cut down the meat by 70% and increased the carrots, cutting them to the same size – 30% still gives the flavour and the idea of meat, and carrots give sweetness,” says De Vleesschauwer. “People say plant-based is niche, but we have a very wide audience.”

There are plenty of fully vegan businesses in the city, too, such as Madam Bakster , where I drink coffee with homemade hazelnut milk and devour rich, chewy chocolate-chip cookies fresh from the oven. Laura Verhulst, the founder, sees her cafe as more, not less, inclusive. “I wanted to make desserts that everyone could enjoy: vegan, allergen-free, non-refined sugar,” she says. At Knol & Kool , a vegan restaurant-cum-minimart, 85% of customers aren’t even vegetarian. The owner, Stijn Sprengers, says: “Our vibe is not, ‘Fuck you, meat-eaters’. We try to be as hospitable as possible and make everyone feel welcome.”

Oh!Ma is a restaurant specialising in plant-based Belgian comfort food. “We serve meals that feel like home: stew, vol-au-vent, meatballs,” says Hannah, a student and waitress. “We introduce it to people’s lifestyles in a non-pushy, non-in-your-face way. A lot of people are shocked the food is vegan. Most walk-ins don’t realise.” The restaurant makes all its own plant-based meat alternatives and condiments, such as Belgium’s beloved sauce andalouse, essential with fries. It says each plant-based dish saves up to 5kg of CO₂and 2,000 litres of water compared with its animal-based equivalent.

Hannah isn’t a vegetarian herself, but Oh!Ma’s “chicken” and mushroom vol-au-vent and “cheezy bacon” loaded fries have won her over. “I prefer the betterballs [a vegan take on the bar snack bitterballen ] to the originals,” she says. “I’m looking for plant-based more often. I thought it wasn’t going to taste good – working here has changed that.”

As well as these sorts of independent businesses, Ghent also has a proud tradition of affordable “social restaurants”, where all are welcome – tourists included – and prices for residents vary according to their ability to pay. I have lunch at Parnassus , a social restaurant in a beautiful former Franciscan church, where a two-course meal is €16 [£13.50] full price, or €7/€3.50 for those receiving certain social welfare benefits. Last year, 67% of customers paid a discounted rate. The cost includes a vegetable soup (today courgette) and a choice of two main courses. As it is Thursday, the two mains are vegetarian (a big wedge of cheesy pumpkin quiche) and vegan (seitan and mushroom stew with roast potatoes), both served with salad. There is a meat option twice a week and a fish dish on Fridays, meaning 70% of the menu is vegetarian or vegan.

Nicholas, the head chef, explains his cooking style. “We believe in pure enjoyment with a minimal impact on the planet,” he says. “We cook as natural as possible: fresh, healthy and without heavy cream or fats. We also actively fight food waste.” He and his team feed about 180 people a day, sometimes as many as 250, and produce almost zero waste. Lunch is winding down when I arrive, but the church is still half full of people of all ages: alone, in couples, with family or groups of friends.

Parnassus is one of four restaurants operated by Ateljee , a company that runs employment projects in Ghent; other initiatives include secondhand shops, a bike shop, city gardening and digital skills hubs. Tom Wauters, Ateljee’s general manager, says: “The restaurants employ people who have been long-term unemployed, to help them get back into the labour market. We strongly believe that everyone has talents.” The chefs at Parnassus are certainly talented – my stew is delicious – and the daily changing menus are full of creative plant-based dishes.