Blindfolded in Bodmin: My Meat-Loving Family Taste-Tested Five Vegan Pasties
My family in Cornwall take pasties seriously. Not 'oh, that's a nice lunch' seriously — properly seriously. My uncle Nigel once drove forty minutes because a bakery had changed its crimping technique. So when I announced I'd be serving them vegan pasties, you'd have thought I'd suggested replacing Christmas dinner with quinoa.
The rules were simple: five pasties, one blindfold each, and honest scores out of ten for flakiness, satisfaction, and how close each one came to the classic steak-and-swede original. Nobody knew what they were eating. Nobody was allowed to peek. Uncle Nigel described this as 'the worst game since Monopoly.'
The Contenders
I spent the weekend in the kitchen testing five plant-based fillings:
- Jackfruit 'steak' — young green jackfruit braised in soy, mimicking shredded beef
- Mushroom and lentil — chestnut mushrooms, Puy lentils, a splash of Henderson's
- Smoked tofu and swede — keeping the traditional veg, swapping the meat
- Walnut 'mince' — toasted walnuts, mushrooms and lentils pulsed together
- Seitan strips — homemade wheat gluten seasoned with marmite and black pepper
All were wrapped in the same wholemeal-spiked shortcrust, crimped on one side like a proper pasty should be.
Round One: Flakiness
The pastry behaved identically across the board, so this round was really about the fillings holding their shape. The jackfruit went soggy — Nigel noted a 'worrying wetness' without knowing what he was eating. The mushroom and lentil mix held firm, and the seitan kept a satisfying bite. Scores: mushroom-lentil 8, seitan 7, walnut 6, tofu 6, jackfruit 4.
Round Two: Satisfaction
This is where things got interesting. My cousin Beth — the family's most committed carnivore — gave the walnut mince a 9. 'It's got that savoury, almost meaty depth,' she said. 'Proper moreish.' When the blindfolds came off and she learned it was walnuts, she went quiet for a full ten seconds.
The jackfruit scored worst again. Everyone agreed it tasted fine, just not pasty-fine. 'It's a curry wearing a pasty costume,' as my nan put it.
Round Three: Does It Taste Like the Original?
The seitan won this round outright. The marmite-and-pepper seasoning gave it a savoury punch that had Nigel convinced he was eating a budget steak pasty from a motorway services. 'I've had worse,' he said, which in his language is a standing ovation.
The Final Scores
| Filling | Flakiness | Satisfaction | Originality | Overall |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Seitan strips | 7 | 8 | 9 | 8.0 |
| Mushroom & lentil | 8 | 7 | 7 | 7.3 |
| Walnut mince | 6 | 9 | 6 | 7.0 |
| Smoked tofu & swede | 6 | 6 | 6 | 6.0 |
| Jackfruit | 4 | 5 | 4 | 4.3 |
The Winning Recipe: Marmite-Seitan Pasty
For the seitan:
- 200g vital wheat gluten
- 2 tbsp nutritional yeast
- 1 tbsp marmite
- 200ml veg stock
- 1 tsp black pepper
Knead into a dough, rest 20 minutes, then simmer in seasoned stock for 45 minutes. Dice small and fry until crisp at the edges.
For the filling:
- 1 swede, diced small
- 2 potatoes, diced small
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- The seitan, diced
- Knob of butter or olive oil
- Salt and plenty of pepper
Assembly: Roll your pastry, pile the filling slightly off-centre, brush the edge with plant milk, fold, crimp one side, and cut a steam vent. Bake at 190°C fan for 40–45 minutes until golden.
The Verdict
Nobody converted anybody, and that was never the point. But two of five pasties scored higher than a shop-bought meat version Nigel brought along 'for comparison' — and the seitan one vanished before the comparison one did. Beth has since requested the recipe twice. I'm calling that a win for the humble, adaptable pasty.
