July is the month we say goodbye to writers who are retiring or moving on to new adventures, and this is Hannah’s last post. She has been writing with us since August 2023.

And now, the post you’ve all been waiting for…the grand finale to blow your socks off, even the ones with the individual toes. She’s written about mental health, love, illness, Club Penguin, joy…what stupendous wonder might culminate in Hannah’s last post?

I thought about writing about religion again, describing what I still find myself yearning for and what I’m happy to leave behind. But that’s passé. No, what this town really needs is a nice respectable ranking, a guide for my fellow cheeseless sufferers.

Did I do research for this? Did I, say, buy three different categories of vegan dairy from five different brands and scatter them all around my kitchen for a menagerie of creamy critique? Did I invite friends and enemies alike to partake, each invitation adorned with swiss cheese-like holes? No. That sounds expensive. I simply lived my life for a decade without cheese within my grasp, one semester in France excepted, and I have some strong opinions. So, let’s go.

Cheese

We’re starting off in the depths of hopelessness, I’m afraid. Vegan cheese just isn’t very good. I said it. Nothing beats an old-fashioned slice of cheddar when you’re shivering in front of the fridge past your bedtime in search of a late night snack. Vegan just doesn’t cut it (the cheese).

That said, Babybel’s vegan cheese can make you believe in love again. As a bonus, you can peel off the gray wax surrounding the cheese and set it on your nose for a quick clown nose on the go. Good in a pinch, if you’re late to the circus.

Cream Cheese

As someone who has a bagel with fake cream cheese for breakfast every single morning, I’m considered a bit of a local expert on the cream cheese scene, assuming you respect my correct opinions. I’ve been in the trenches, back when the only option I could find was the oily yet somehow bland disappointment of Tofutti. I’ve crinkled my forehead skeptically at Miyoko’s, who attempts to capture the sourness of real cream cheese and overshoots by a mile.

The main sin of cream cheese designers is messing up the texture. Getting the smoothness correct goes a long way, as long as you can manage to not add a weird aftertaste (I’m looking at you, Kite Hill). Unfortunately, this usually means that the best dupes are also the blandest. My loyalty has long lay with Violife’s insultingly expensive knock-off, because even though it’s not very flavorful, nothing gets in the way of imagining the cream cheese you held so dear as you bite into the bagel. That said, Philadelphia has recently come through with a surprisingly strong option, including a strawberry flavor. Things are looking up in the cream cheese realms.

Pizza

Even though pizza is technically cheese on top of a bunch of other stuff, it gets its own category. It’s just like Flannery O’Connor’s short story “A Good Vegan Pizza is Hard to Find.” Bad ones abound, though, with extremely runny cheese that sticks to the roof of your mouth like glue and tastes all wrong. But most fake mozzarella brands will do a fine job for an at-home pizza, except maybe Daiya, who’s really a disappointment to the cause in everything but their cheesecakes.

Anyway, if you crave pizza when you’re out on the town, you’re going to have a hard time. If you want the classic oh-just-marinara-on-a-crust-is-fine-I-promise-I-don’t-feel-left-out-at-your-pizza-party-ha-ha, you can go most places, but if you want vegan cheese, you’re hard pressed. That said, I discovered Toppers last year and had a near out-of-body experience at their vegan pizza with garlic sprinkled on top. I’ve truly never tasted a vegan pizza that felt as close to the real thing, and you can pry it out of my cold, greasy hands.

Mac & Cheese

The vegan mac & cheese world is a wasteland. For years, my only real option was Annie’s sweet potato–flavored option, which was surprisingly good but not reminiscent of cheese. Daiya claims to have it covered, but Daiya’s cheese sauce tastes like straight plastic and smells worse. But fear not, my comrades; hope is dawning. Not only are there non–sweet potato Annie’s options, but Kraft itself has released its own interpretation. As much as I hate to admit it, the companies that hold a monopoly in the dairy world do seem to have transferable recipes. 

Photo by Pink Sherbet Photography (CC BY 2.0)

Milkshake

Local legend Frosty Boy has my heart and soul, as former writer Lillie mentioned in a post. There’s no better place to get a vegan chocolate milkshake—it’s frankly the only thing I ever order there. But Gordon’s Milkshake Bar in Indianapolis and Cleveland Vegan have some pretty close runner-ups. It’s encouraging to see a world where, whatever our differences, whatever our heartbreak, we can all delight in a chocolate milkshake at last.

Unless you’re allergic to chocolate. Or sugar. Or shaking. Whatever.

See you later!

Hannah McNulty

Hannah McNulty graduated from Calvin in 2021 and stuck around Grand Rapids, against all odds. She has spent her last few years singing in choir, teaching herself to love reading again, and trying to learn every fiber art simultaneously. She currently works at Eerdmans Publishing, where you can find her burying her nose in old paperwork and forcing anyone within earshot to listen to her bad puns.