Out of all the vegan and vegan-friendly spots marked on Happy Cow in Ljubljana, Gaudi&Naan stands out as a curated pick — the kind of place that makes you come back before the week is over. Which I did. Twice, during my one week stay in Ljubljana.

Gaudi&Naan is right in the city center, but slightly tucked away in a quiet courtyard, just off a busy street where tourists and locals ride their bikes. The terrace greets you first — with basic plastic tables and chairs, surrounded by big planters full of real greenery. It’s a rainy day, so I head inside. After dropping off an order, the waiter greets me and shows me to a table for six that I will have to share. Not exactly thrilled about having to tune out the conversation next to me, but it’s the only one available. At 7 PM on a Monday, the place is full.

The waiter drops off the menu and vanishes — clearly on a mission. Out of all the main dishes, the one with smoked “ribs” stands out. I (wrongly) assume they come with some sort of risotto and a slice of tarragon cake on the side. “Weird combo,” I say to myself — but I’m all in for culinary oddities, so I don’t hesitate. Doesn’t take long to realize I’ve actually ordered a trio of completely separate dishes — and that the last one is, in fact, dessert. Great. Let the feast begin (no wonder the dish is called Slovenian feast)!

Soup, stew, or risotto? 

The first course arrives so quickly, I don’t even get a chance to jot down notes about the interior — something I usually do. The waitress, who’s now taken over the service, tells me it’s ričet, a traditional Slovenian dish. It’s a thick barley soup that looks more like a stew — or maybe even a risotto. This vegan version has red beans, tofu, carrots, and potatoes. Black sesame seeds sprinkled on top, along with some bright green leaves I guess might be wheatgrass, make a striking contrast against the soft, earthy palette.

I try to take a spoonful — and immediately burn my mouth. It’s so hot I have to wait a good few minutes before I can actually eat. It reminds me of my old boss at the vegan restaurant I used to work at, and her obsession with serving food at an edible temperature. 

As I stir the spoon through the bowl, I notice how creamy it is — and the first bite confirms it. I’m met with a bold, smoky flavor. Impressive. I’ve always had a thing for strong, defined tastes. I taste each ingredient on its own. The tofu doesn’t bring in much flavor, but the texture is great — soft and pleasantly bouncy. Maybe it would’ve stood out more if it had been seasoned and pan-fried for a bit of crisp on the edges? The barley is cooked just right — neither mushy nor overly firm. What really ties it all together is that smokiness. Still, I can’t help but feel it’s missing a final touch. Tarragon, maybe? It would’ve taken the whole thing up a notch. 

While waiting for the main course

I’ve got enough time between the soup and the main dish to notice a few things about the place. On my right, there’s a Buddha and a little elephant statue watching over me. Behind me, two loud groups — one of eight, the other of six — are clearly having a good time. Three smaller groups at the other tables are also into their food and chatter. It’s a bit too noisy for my taste, but I’m doing my best to stay grounded.

The place is tastefully decorated. Even though it’s at ground level, the curved ceiling gives off a cozy, wine cellar vibe. The white walls contrast with a row of pendant lights hanging neatly from the ceiling on thin black wires.

The tables aren’t exactly pretty — cheap-looking particle board with metal legs. The chairs, on the other hand, seem to be from a completely different set: better quality, dark wood, and brightened up a bit by pale pink cushions.

More style and texture than flavor

Every time the waiter brings in a new dish, he explains what’s on the plate. This time, it’s soy and beet ribs, with some kind of edible fake-bone made from pressed veggies, plus a side of sautéed vegetables. For contrast, they’ve used the same black sesame and leafy garnish as in the first course — which kind of hints at a limited pantry… and maybe limited creativity too. But hey, let’s give it a taste.

I try to cut a piece of the ribs, bone and all. The fake bone is tough to get through, and after tasting it, I decide it’s not worth chewing. It’s dry and hard to eat. So, I focus on the ‘meat’ instead. With a subtle smoky flavor, it has a springy texture and pulls apart in strips just like the real thing. I’m impressed. Flavor-wise, the barbecue sauce really makes the difference.

The sautéed veggies are meant to balance the dish. I spot mushrooms, green, red, and orange peppers, cauliflower, zucchini, and leek. They’re a bit too oily for my taste, and honestly, I think a rosemary-infused mash would’ve paired much better with those ribs. 

Tarragon in a dessert? Yes, please!

Remember that tarragon cake I didn’t quite understand at first, when I thought I’d only ordered one dish? Well, it’s actually a slice of cake with tarragon mixed into the batter. On top, there’s a zig-zag of fragrant mango sauce and a sprinkle of powdered sugar. The combination is balanced — a decent dessert, I’d say, though nothing spectacular. I wish the tarragon flavor had been stronger, and maybe a scoop of ice cream alongside would have made it even better.

I paired the dishes with a refreshing kombucha—mild but interesting in flavor. It’s made with Sencha, yerba mate, raspberry, and ginger. From the label, one finds out it was crafted by Isa, someone who dropped out of school at 15 to follow her dream of making kombucha.

Final thoughts on Gaudi&Naan? The restaurant is beautifully decorated, the service is precise and attentive, the food is creative and tasty, and the plating is classy and definitely fine-dining level. Judging by what I ordered on my first visit, I might not rush back with huge excitement — but the tasting menu definitely deserves a shot. So Gaudi&Naan clearly calls for another chapter — read all about it here.