That night I sat at the computer at my mom’s, my spiral notebook open at my side as I worked on my first piece for the food-writing class. I’d written down lots of impressions from that evening out—about the food, the weather, the crowds, the atmosphere and energy—and I was braiding it all together into one thick and juicy piece. I was really enjoying myself. Writing was definitely my happy place (along with reading). The whole world just melted away while I was doing it, and I felt a tingle of happiness all up and down my shoulders and arms as I typed.

The Amazing UnBurger had tasted so much like a grilled beef burger, I couldn’t get over it. It was crispy on the outside with a salty crust, but the inside was tender and crumbly and reddish, and it had that meaty taste known as “umami”—the salty, savory flavor that makes your mouth water when you smell meat cooking. I couldn’t believe the burger had been made with vegetables. Like, I actually could not wrap my mind around it.

The other girl from my class who’d been there that night, Anika, was a vegetarian, and the burger had been so realistically meatlike that she’d grown suspicious eating it. She’d kept asking the people who worked there if they were positive it was made with vegetables.

The Amazing UnBurger had been served on a pillowy, sweetish brioche bun that had been toasted on the inside so that it was crunchy, while the outside remained soft and easy to bite into. I’d had mine with just cheddar cheese and mustard, but the other kids had tried theirs with special sauce, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, sautéed onions, and more.

The other things I’d tried at Dirt Treats were the zucchini fries (matchstick-cut pieces of zucchini rolled in flour, lightly fried until crisp, and then squirted with lemon juice and dusted with flaky sea salt), radishes with cold butter (sounds gross, but they were sour-tasty with a good snap to them), and gazpacho shooters (little tiny Dixie cups of chilled puréed tomato soup with crunchy minced veggies in it and tiny cubed croutons on top). They were all delish!

Besides the food, one of the things I liked about Dirt Treats was that they were very environmentally conscious. They had paper straws, limited napkins, bamboo utensils, and paper goods rather than any plastic. Also, their pulpy cardboard plates had tiny flower seeds embedded in them, so if the plates became litter, they would quickly disintegrate, and the flower seeds would have a chance to grow. Dirt Treats planted a tree locally for every pack of napkins they went through, and instead of a tip jar, the money jar on their counter was a collection for the Nature Conservancy. The place had a real identity and made delicious food, plus they were doing good in the world.