It’s become my little seaside ritual: whenever I take the train to the coast, I make a stop at PlantEat /it/. After last year’s adventure with their sushi and corn ribs, this time I set out to try everything new on the menu. Was it worth it?

PlantEat /it/ is just as charming as ever — if you can say that about a restaurant. In terms of design, it’s hands-down my favorite among all the vegan spots I’ve visited across Europe. That’s mostly thanks to the lush greenery, which at first might make you wonder if you’ve accidentally stepped into a flower shop. And honestly, you wouldn’t be too far off. Check out my previous review to read the full story behind the place.

This year, by a happy twist of fate, I’m staying right in Constanța — just a 20-minute stroll from PlantEat /it/. So, three evenings in a row, after my sunset beach sessions, I’ve been dropping by for dinner. What I love is that, alongside their well-known dishes, they’re also playing around with seasonal ingredients. Otherwise, let’s be honest, coming back again and again would get a little dull.

Bang Bang Cauliflower – pretty, tasty… but where’s the rest of it?

On my first day, I go for the cauliflower with ginger, garlic, soy sauce, and chili. They’ve dubbed it ‘Bang Bang Cauliflower.’ I can’t help but wonder if I should order something on the side — because, judging by the ingredient list, it feels like it’s missing that hearty, stick-to-your-ribs element. 

The cauliflower is tasty, though not exactly a showstopper. It’s coated in a sweet-and-tangy sauce that’s done a fine job of caramelizing. For my taste buds, the ginger is far too shy—I can’t pick it up at all. 

The plating is finished off with a sprinkle of white and black sesame seeds and slices of fresh green chili, a bright contrast to the warm hues of the cauliflower. Texture-wise, I’d say it’s spot on—tender through the middle, with just a hint of crispness around the edges.

The only drawback I can point out is that it doesn’t really feel like a complete dish — especially for this price. It’s missing something on the side, whether some rice or mash. 

Golden croquettes: comfort food with a fiery twist

Halfway through the previous dish, I put in an order for some cheese & potato croquettes. They’re not marked as a new addition, but I felt the cauliflower could use a little back-up.

They show up as nicely browned sticks, crisp on the outside but a bit too creamy in the center for my taste. I reckon a little flour in the mix might’ve made them fluffier. 

They’re served on a bed of peppery arugula, with a playful zig-zag of bright orange sriracha mayo and a few eye-catching pea microgreens on top. That spicy mayo pops up all over the menu, but it’s a bit too fiery for my taste — so I set it aside when possible.

The cauliflower and croquettes make a solid combo. Four sticks — like in the Bites section of the menu — felt like a bit much for me. But I’d definitely add a couple of those croquettes alongside the Bang Bang Cauliflower to round out the dish a bit more.

Zucchini & Soy Lasagna – a veggie twist on a classic

On my second night, I go for the lasagna. The menu promises a whole parade of ingredients, and my expectations are sky-high—especially since I recently cooked up a stellar version in my culinary course: a lasagna made with homemade seitan. I can’t wait to put them head-to-head.

The lasagna at PlantEat isn’t exactly a feast for the eyes. I try snapping it from every possible angle, but somehow the camera makes it look even less appetizing than it does in real life. From my time working in a plant-based restaurant, I’ve learned that the fix might be as simple as baking it in small, single-serve ceramic dishes. But let’s talk about the flavor.

The first bite floods my senses with thyme—so much of it that everything else is completely drowned out. Still, I press on. 

Instead of the ground meat in a traditional ragù, they’ve gone with soy, seasoned with thyme, oregano, bay leaves, and soy sauce. Texture-wise, there’s nothing particularly memorable.

Nestled between the sheets of lasagna, well soaked in béchamel, are a few slices of zucchini. They add a fresh note to the dish, along with a contrasting texture. 

The tomato sauce lurking underneath is refreshingly vibrant and packed with umami, a playful counterpoint to the warm, cozy lasagna above. 

Topping it off, they’ve sprinkled a Parmesan stand-in—probably almond-based—and added a single basil leaf, which really pops in photos.

I’d call it an honest, filling dish—but nothing spectacular. Definitely not something I’d order twice.

Crispy sweet potato arancini with a kick of spicy mayo

On my third consecutive day at PlantEat, I stubbornly go for the arancini, even though it’s marked as spicy—and my tolerance is minimal. I ask if it can be made less fiery. After a trip to the kitchen, the waitress tells me no. What about the sauce on the side? A second check brings the same answer: the dish only comes as it was designed. I’m not thrilled, and I’m sure they aren’t thrilled with my persistence either. Still, I place the order.

Three arancini balls arrive, lounging on a bed of sauce. The waitress mentions they’ve skipped the top sauce, which would have been the spiciest. She even brings an extra plate in case I want to rescue them from the base sauce. Something about the whole setup strikes me as a bit quirky, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

I test the sauce first. It seems moderately spicy, but I can’t quite place the flavor. A peek at the menu solves the mystery: nduja—a traditionally spicy spreadable Italian sausage—now in a vegan version. 

I cut into an arancini. The crust offers a satisfying crunch, perfectly crisp. Inside, I spot turmeric-tinted rice and little chunks of sweet potato. The interior is wonderfully creamy, a delightful contrast to the crunchy exterior.

Checking the ingredient list, I’m left wondering where they used the shallots, butter, wine, and orange—inside the arancini or in the sauce? I also sigh over the crispy sage, which I never spot on the plate, even though it’s listed on the menu. 

I also notice the dish is a bit light on protein, so I start daydreaming about Enoki mushrooms paired with a blue cheese sauce to replace that spicy nduja. But then dessert comes along and steals my attention.

Which flavors take a dessert from good to unforgettable?

Just like with the mains, I go for the dessert marked as new: a pudding served with ice cream. At first, I’m thinking of the classic, jiggly puddings, so the idea of pairing it with ice cream catches me off guard. 

I forget, of course, that the pudding they’re referring to is a Toffee sticky pudding, a classic English dessert. It looks irresistible, and the taste? Absolutely mind-blowing. 

The pudding itself is fairly fluffy, like a denser sponge cake, with occasional pockets of creaminess—maybe dates? On top, there’s a glaze that I’m guessing is the caramel from the recipe.

The occasional salty notes mingle with the sweetness of the caramel, tempered by the subtle bitterness of the cocoa ice cream. A scoop of white ice cream, probably vanilla, steps in to balance the bold contrasts with its gentle, sweet flavor.

Texture-wise, it’s another feast. The fluffy cake is paired with creamy caramel and ice cream, while almonds and some fake honeycomb, probably made of sugar, complete the dish perfectly—adding a satisfying crunch and a big visual wow factor.

I also notice the playful contrast in temperatures: the pudding is warm, the ice cream cold. I still can’t believe what a successful combination it is, in every possible way! 

Looking back at all the desserts I’ve tried so far, I can confidently say this is my favorite—even compared to other stellar treats in Frankfurt, Brussels, and Vienna. I invite you to check them out too: Tonka (Frankfurt), Verdo (Bruxelles) and Swing Kitchen (Viena).