I'm tempted to call it triple vegan déjà vu. Because I've been to this place before — a few times, actually — and while there always seems to be a new sign over the door, the menu has been reliably meat- and dairy-free for seven years. First as the roadside diner-styled Anthem Vegan, later as the carne-and-fish-free Mexican-slash-sushi spot, The Village.
Today the sign reads Donna Jean, already seen as a plant-based restaurant serving all these years in Bankers Hill. San Diego's meatless community tends to be close-knit, so it makes sense that Donna Jean's owners would wind up taking over a freshly vacated vegan kitchen after development forced them out of their original location. It makes even more sense they would bring along their also-pushed-out neighboring half-sister restaurant, Evolution Fast Food. Thus completing the déjà vu trifecta.
Fans of Evolution's fast food might miss its vegan drive-thru, but these new standalone digs on El Cajon Boulevard do include a good-sized parking lot, so it remains a good option for grab-and-go veggie burgers, faux chicken sandwiches, and delightfully dairy-free milkshakes.
As for my particular current appetite: it remains squarely focused on the Italian fare on offer.
When it first opened, the concept (named after chef Roy Elam's mother) delivered a broader, comfort-food menu. These days, the restaurant has settled on a succinct assortment of pizzas and pastas to go with its complementary beers and wines. It helps that each item is tagged to note whether it includes nuts, soy, onion, or garlic; also whether it's oil-free, gluten-free, or can be made gluten-free. (Though if you can handle gluten, the pizza scores a knockout.)
Not that I don't enjoy my breadcrumb-coated order of cast iron mac & cheese ($18). The creamy texture coating the shell pasta does a convincing dairy impression. However, faking cheese continues to be the biggest hurdle for plant-based dining, so a dish that relies on the tang of sharp cheddar and the umami at the heart of a good cheese needs a little a little extra something, flavor-wise. To that end, check out $3 add-ons — including pickled peppers, cremini mushrooms, and truffle cream — to add depth.
Good pizza counts on cheese, too, but here you get a natural umami replacement from the tomato sauce, in addition to a litany of veggie toppings. Think mushrooms, olives, calabrian peppers, and spinach, if you're into that.
Most of all, what matters when it comes to pizza is the crust, and that's where Donna Jean lays an excellent foundation for its entire pizza menu. The Neapolitan-style crust hits that sweet spot of airy, chewy, and crispy at the edges. It may even be worth it to you to add one of the eatery's $3 "crust dips," whether that be truffle cream, garlic butter, or a za'atar-seasoned ranch dressing. Though I find it satisfying in its own right.
And while options abound, I find the shop's signature badmotorfinger pie to be the vegan pizza ideal. In addition to olive, spinach, peppers, and red onions, it boasts a crumbled fennel tempeh sausage. And though the effect is subtle, it also apparently employs saba, a caramelized grape-must syrup dating to ancient Roman times that's intrinsic to balsamic vinegar.
I've recently complained that good vegan pizza is tough to find, but that's no longer the case in North Park, where it's time to get familiar (or re-familiar) with Donna Jean.
I'm tempted to call it triple vegan déjà vu. Because I've been to this place before — a few times, actually — and while there always seems to be a new sign over the door, the menu has been reliably meat- and dairy-free for seven years. First as the roadside diner-styled Anthem Vegan, later as the carne-and-fish-free Mexican-slash-sushi spot, The Village.
Today the sign reads Donna Jean, already seen as a plant-based restaurant serving all these years in Bankers Hill. San Diego's meatless community tends to be close-knit, so it makes sense that Donna Jean's owners would wind up taking over a freshly vacated vegan kitchen after development forced them out of their original location. It makes even more sense they would bring along their also-pushed-out neighboring half-sister restaurant, Evolution Fast Food. Thus completing the déjà vu trifecta.
Fans of Evolution's fast food might miss its vegan drive-thru, but these new standalone digs on El Cajon Boulevard do include a good-sized parking lot, so it remains a good option for grab-and-go veggie burgers, faux chicken sandwiches, and delightfully dairy-free milkshakes.
As for my particular current appetite: it remains squarely focused on the Italian fare on offer.
When it first opened, the concept (named after chef Roy Elam's mother) delivered a broader, comfort-food menu. These days, the restaurant has settled on a succinct assortment of pizzas and pastas to go with its complementary beers and wines. It helps that each item is tagged to note whether it includes nuts, soy, onion, or garlic; also whether it's oil-free, gluten-free, or can be made gluten-free. (Though if you can handle gluten, the pizza scores a knockout.)
Not that I don't enjoy my breadcrumb-coated order of cast iron mac & cheese ($18). The creamy texture coating the shell pasta does a convincing dairy impression. However, faking cheese continues to be the biggest hurdle for plant-based dining, so a dish that relies on the tang of sharp cheddar and the umami at the heart of a good cheese needs a little a little extra something, flavor-wise. To that end, check out $3 add-ons — including pickled peppers, cremini mushrooms, and truffle cream — to add depth.
Good pizza counts on cheese, too, but here you get a natural umami replacement from the tomato sauce, in addition to a litany of veggie toppings. Think mushrooms, olives, calabrian peppers, and spinach, if you're into that.
Most of all, what matters when it comes to pizza is the crust, and that's where Donna Jean lays an excellent foundation for its entire pizza menu. The Neapolitan-style crust hits that sweet spot of airy, chewy, and crispy at the edges. It may even be worth it to you to add one of the eatery's $3 "crust dips," whether that be truffle cream, garlic butter, or a za'atar-seasoned ranch dressing. Though I find it satisfying in its own right.
And while options abound, I find the shop's signature badmotorfinger pie to be the vegan pizza ideal. In addition to olive, spinach, peppers, and red onions, it boasts a crumbled fennel tempeh sausage. And though the effect is subtle, it also apparently employs saba, a caramelized grape-must syrup dating to ancient Roman times that's intrinsic to balsamic vinegar.
I've recently complained that good vegan pizza is tough to find, but that's no longer the case in North Park, where it's time to get familiar (or re-familiar) with Donna Jean.