Every time I bump into my vivacious vegan friend Yvonne Smith—often in the parking lot of Whole Foods or in the field where our CSA delivers its weekly crop—she does her best to get me excited about vegetarian cuisine. It’s not that I’m against vegetables or vegetarians. It’s not even that I’m an aggressive carnivore. My objection to vegetarianism as a way of life is that, all too often, the absence of meat simply means that a starchy beige side dish gets promoted to entrée. It’s the Peter Principle at work in the food world.

An ever-optimistic chlorophyll-ophile, Smith would argue that vegetarian cuisine doesn’t have to be that way. She swears that fleshless food can be exciting, creative and satisfying to even the most beef-tainted palates. I tend to believe her, since she travels all over the country seeking innovative establishments to profile on her fledgling program, The Traveling Vegetarian. After filming segments at The Laughing Seed in Asheville, N.C., or Café Sunflower in Atlanta, Smith frequently laments the lack of thoughtful vegetarian cuisine in Nashville, and she piques my curiosity and appetite with tales of vegan pizzeria-brewhouses and menus that simultaneously showcase the diversity of world cuisines and the bounty of the earth. Watching prototype episodes of The Traveling Vegetarian on YouTube, in which the perennially camera-ready Smith tucks into glorious feasts of healthy, sustainable and colorful foods, I can almost envision a vegetarian revolution.

So last summer, when Dawn Fears began retrofitting a former dry cleaners in East Nashville to house a vegetarian restaurant, I had some lofty expectations. When the marketing veteran of corporate giants including Home Depot and Dell started testing family recipes in a mobile cart near the intersection of Riverside and McGavock, I headed over to get a preview.

On a sunny patch of grass, under the relentless hum of a generator, Fears and her mother Marilyn Crutcher quickly developed a devout following of picnickers, who swooned—in part from the summer heat—at flavorful and fresh dishes such as vegetarian meatloaf, black bean soup with tomatoes and corn, and dairy-free strawberry-lemonade smoothies.

Unfortunately, the cart was short-lived—it’s illegal to park a mobile food cart on grass instead of concrete—and Fears & Co. turned their attention to the brick-and-mortar project near the intersection of Riverside and Porter. After months of construction-related delays, the Veggie Café finally opened its doors in March.

Kudos to Fears for creating an attractive and welcoming venue on an overlooked stretch of road far from the East Side epicenter of Five Points. At lunchtime, the café hums with a happy crowd of people clearly aching for a healthy dining option. With large plate-glass windows on two sides, the room is a cheery setting, dotted with kitschy veggie-boosting one-liners such as “Vegans have peelings too” and “Do vegetarians eat animal crackers?” The décor is an eclectic mix of restaurant salvage—some of the chairs look like they came from a Chinese buffet—and office supply, including a vinyl sofa that easily could have had a career in a clinic waiting room. White vinyl tablecloths look like they’re waiting for a top layer that never arrives, and an empty buffet island in the center of the room hints at a raw salad bar that is coming soon.

Despite the fact that the Veggie Café has been open for more than two months, things are still not in flow. On one visit, iced green tea arrived so pale and weak, I wondered at first if it was, in fact, tea. The smoothies that I remembered so fondly from last summer’s forbidden patch of grass were unavailable on one visit, as was the black-bean-and-corn soup, and no one seemed aware of the shortages until after I ordered. On one trip, one of the two daily specials was sold out by noon. On another visit, only three of the four side items were available. On all our trips, the wait between and ordering and eating was inexplicably long.

Among the hot dishes that were available, we enjoyed meatless meatloaf. Made with brown rice, rolled oats, carrots, peppers and onions and topped with a light tomato sauce, it offered a comfortable texture and flavor, especially for anyone who dreads the foreign mouth-feel of tempeh, tofu and other frequent meat substitutes. Our one complaint was the absence of the chopped walnuts that had made the meal stand out in our minds from last summer.

Veggie lasagna—made with whole wheat pasta from the nearby Turnip Truck market, squash, peppers and tomatoes and topped with a congealed scab of white cheese—failed to showcase the flavor of any of its fresh and locally grown produce, and it fell apart into chunks of distinct vegetables that were bonded by neither cheese nor sauce.

The most creative dish we ordered was Swedish veggie balls made of rice and breadcrumbs, served over floppy noodles and topped with a thin white gravy of brewer’s yeast and soy milk. Unfortunately, the pale combination lacked any brightness of color or flavor, and the balls of rice were slightly rubbery.

We had better luck with the sandwiches, including the vegan Tuscan Sunset wrap—shredded carrots, tomatoes, spinach, cilantro and creamy homemade hummus rolled in a sun-dried-tomato tortilla. The combination of colors and textures was fresh and satisfying. The vegan and low-gluten Faceless Reuben, served on organic marbled rye from local baker Bobby John Henry, piled the tang of sauerkraut onto the nutty texture of tempeh for a filling and warm sandwich, though it lacked the briny flavor of the classic.

We particularly enjoyed the sweet potatoes—cooked with cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar and soy butter to yield a soft candied confection—which were preferable to the bitter sides of deeply cooked spinach and turnip greens. And we loved the dairy-free smoothie of fresh pineapple and strawberries blended with orange juice and agave nectar, which could become the restaurant’s calling card.

But none of the meals did anything to change the way I think about vegetarian food. They were meals without meat, rather than celebrations of fruits, vegetables and grains. In fact, on one visit, our vegetable medley was made with frozen vegetables—Fears says the kitchen keeps some bagged veggies on hand for emergencies—and the sautéed broccoli was so overcooked that we didn’t need to chew it so much as mush it against the tops of our mouths.

Soggy broccoli and spongy crinkle-cut carrots are not good poster-children for vegetarian cuisine, so it’s unlikely that Veggie Café is going to sway any appetites away from meat. On the other hand, Fears and her team have found a void—both geographically and nutritionally—and they’ve planted a leafy green flag in East Nashville. So while the vegetarian revolution has not arrived yet, at least the revolutionaries have a new place to dine as they plot one.

The Veggie Café is open 10:30 a.m. to 7 p.m. Tuesday through Friday and 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday, with brunch available till 1 p.m.