I eat meat. Most of my friends eat meat. And I've watched the plant-based category pour billions of dollars into convincing people like us to switch - bold packaging redesigns, celebrity athlete endorsements, "tastes just like beef" promises plastered across every advertisement. So I wanted to know: what would actually get dedicated meat-eaters to try plant-based alternatives?
The answer turned out to be pretty humbling for the industry. I ran a study with six US meat-eaters to understand what's really blocking conversion and what might actually work.
The Participants
I recruited six personas from across the US through Ditto - dedicated meat-eaters aged 32 to 49 who grill and cook regularly. Geographic distribution included Alabama, California, Texas, Arizona, and Florida. Income ranged dramatically from $9,600 to $215,000 annually, providing a cross-section of the American meat-eating population.
What they had in common: they all enjoy cooking with meat, they all have opinions about what makes a good burger, and they've all been exposed to plant-based marketing. These weren't vegetarian-curious consumers - they were the skeptical majority that plant-based brands need to convert for mainstream success.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Skepticism dominates the conversation around plant-based meat among dedicated meat-eaters. The category is viewed as artificial, over-hyped, and sensory-deficient. One participant described plant-based marketing as "marketing doing cartwheels" - lots of noise and movement, but not much substance behind the performance.
The "ultra-processed" label is particularly toxic for the category. One respondent said hearing that phrase "hardens my no" - triggering immediate ingredient-list anxiety and purchase rejection. When consumers already think something is fake, confirming it's also highly processed seals the deal against trial.
The sensory failures emerged as consistent deal-breakers across all participants:
Off-taste problems: A fake or sweet aftertaste that lingers and doesn't match expectations of what meat should taste like.
Gummy cooldown texture: Plant-based patties might be acceptable hot off the grill, but they become weird and unpleasant as they cool down even slightly.
No sear or crust on grills: BBQ enthusiasts need that Maillard reaction, that char, that crust formation. Plant-based doesn't deliver it.
As one participant put it with characteristic bluntness:
"Fine in tacos where everything's covered in salsa and cheese. But on a bun by itself, I get that fake aftertaste that reminds me I'm not eating real meat. And that ruins the whole experience."
The Value Problem
Here's what really stings for plant-based brands: consumers compare their products unfavorably to beans. Not just to beef, but to the humble legume that costs a fraction of the price and delivers comparable protein.
One participant made the math brutally clear:
"Six bucks for two patties that taste fake. Or ninety-nine cents for a can of beans that feeds the whole family for a week. If I'm going meatless, I'm going with beans, not some lab-created burger that costs more than actual beef."
When the competition isn't just beef but also lentils, chickpeas, and chicken thighs on a cost-per-satiety basis, plant-based alternatives lose badly. The value proposition collapses when consumers realize they're paying premium prices for a compromise product that doesn't satisfy like real meat and costs more than traditional protein sources.
The Packaging Backfire
Impossible Foods' bold red rebrand and prominent "90% of meat-eaters" claim backfired with this audience. Respondents read the aggressive packaging as "trying too hard" - cosplay rather than genuine product improvement. The more the brand tries to look like meat, the more it reminds skeptical consumers that it isn't.
One participant summed up the reaction simply:
"It's still not carne. You can put it in red packaging and make bold claims, but when I bite into it, my mouth knows the difference. The marketing just makes me more skeptical, not less."
Ethical and sustainability claims carried minimal persuasive weight in BBQ and cooking contexts. These consumers aren't opposed to environmental concerns, but those arguments don't override taste, texture, and value when they're standing at the grill.
When Would They Actually Switch?
Meat-eaters will choose plant-based burgers only in narrow, pragmatic situations where the product's limitations are either masked or irrelevant:
Medical directives: Doctor's orders to reduce red meat consumption for health reasons. External authority provides justification.
Social dynamics: Accommodating vegetarian guests or family members who don't eat meat. Keeping the peace at gatherings.
Heavy seasoning contexts: Tacos, chili, heavily spiced dishes where additional flavours mask the product's deficiencies.
Clearance pricing: BOGO offers, deep discounts, approaching-expiration sales. Value proposition changes when price drops substantially.
When I asked one BBQ enthusiast what would convince him to switch, he was characteristically blunt:
"Almost nothing, honestly. But if you really pushed me - a blind grill-off where I couldn't tell the difference, crispy edges that actually form, and a short ingredient list where I can pronounce everything. That's the only scenario where I'd consider it."
What This Means for Plant-Based Brands
If I were running a plant-based meat company, here's what I'd take away from this research:
Sensory parity is non-negotiable. Real sear, no aftertaste, no gummy texture. Marketing can't fix product problems.
Ingredient transparency matters. Short lists of recognizable ingredients build more trust than bold branding.
Price needs to compete with beans. Not just beef - the entire cost-per-protein competitive set.
Deploy blind grill-offs. Let the product prove itself rather than asking consumers to trust marketing claims.
Tone down the aggressive positioning. "Trying too hard" breeds skepticism, not interest.
The Bigger Picture
Plant-based meat has a product problem, not a marketing problem. The billions spent on advertising, celebrity endorsements, and bold rebranding haven't moved the needle because they can't overcome fundamental sensory deficiencies. Consumers know what they're experiencing when they bite into these products, and no amount of positioning can override that direct sensory feedback.
The path forward isn't louder marketing or more aggressive claims. It's a genuinely better product that can survive a blind taste test against real beef. Until that exists, plant-based meat will remain a niche category for the already-converted, not a mainstream alternative that captures dedicated meat-eaters.
Because at the end of the day, these consumers aren't ideologically opposed to plant-based alternatives. They're just unimpressed by products that cost more, taste worse, and don't deliver the cooking experience they're looking for. Fix those fundamentals, and the market opportunity opens up. Until then, expect continued skepticism from the meat-eating majority.
What the Research Revealed
We asked real consumers to share their thoughts. Here's what they told us:
Impossible Foods recently rebranded with bold red meaty packaging to appeal to meat-lovers. They say 90% of their customers are meat-eaters. Does that make you more interested, or does it feel like th
Semeka Valdez, 41, Unemployed Adult, Beaumont city, TX, USA:
Pues, mira, big bold red meat-y box just makes me roll my eyes harder. Feels like trying too hard. Like, calm down, it’s still not carne, me entiendes? “90% meat-eaters” doesn’t move me. Packaging screams juicy, but my brain hears pricey and my mouth remembers that kinda sweet, kinda fake bite. The red actually gives me more ultra-processed vibes, like louder label, same story. If it’s on clearance and Sofia asks, fine, I’ll grab it and drown it in sazón for tacos. But more interested because of the rebrand? No pues, wow, no. Give me better taste and better price, not a louder box.
Eric Landon Myers, 33, None, Cape Coral, FL, USA:
Feels like they’re trying too hard. Bold red and meat talk doesn’t change what it is, and if it’s plants, just own it. The 90% meat-eater thing sounds like a sales pitch to me; I still care more about price, the ingredient list, and whether it works in chili or tacos. If it’s a Publix BOGO or a buddy tosses some on the grill, I’ll eat it. Otherwise I’m grabbing beans or a piece of local fish.
Jared Maine, 35, Project Manager, Rural, CA, USA:
Short answer: not more interested. Bold red, “meaty” packaging just reads like they’re trying too hard. Doesn’t fix the spongy bite, the weird grill smell, or the price. I buy meat when I want meat, and I cook beans when I want plants. Calling it for meat-lovers feels like a pitch, not a change in what’s in the skillet. If a buddy throws one on the grill, I’ll take a bite and be polite. But I’m not spending my own money unless it sears right, tastes right, and costs like 80/20 on sale. Otherwise it stays in the novelty lane. But hey, I’m the guy who color-codes grocery lists, so grain of salt.
Jeffrey Rivera, 32, Senior Account Director, Tuscaloosa, AL, USA:
Not more interested. Bold red packaging feels like they’re trying too hard to cosplay meat. The box can scream steakhouse all day, but if it still cooks weird on the grill and the texture’s off, I’m out. That 90% meat-eater stat just sounds like a marketing flex to me - more like “we know you don’t want this, so here’s louder branding.” If they want my attention, show me a patty that throws a real crust on cast iron or the Traeger, has a short ingredient list, and costs like ground chuck. Until then, it’s lipstick on a freezer-aisle science project.
What would actually get you to choose a plant-based burger over a real beef burger at a BBQ? Be brutally honest - is there anything that would make you switch?
Jeffrey Rivera, 32, Senior Account Director, Tuscaloosa, AL, USA:
Brutally honest: almost nothing. If the beef looks sketchy - mystery tube meat sitting in the sun - or the host is vegan and only cooking plant-based, I’ll take the plant patty to be a decent guest. If a doctor had me on a tight cholesterol plan or I’d just had a nasty run-in with beef, I might switch. I’d also consider it if it actually seared like beef, wasn’t mushy, had a short ingredient list, and cost the same. Otherwise I’m grabbing the real burger, or I’ll just do grilled chicken and a pile of sides.
Christopher Mccarter, 42, Community Volunteer, Phoenix city, AZ, USA:
Brutally honest? Almost nothing. A good beef burger done right owns a plant patty nine times out of ten. I am not chasing hype patties. Situations that might make me pick one:
Only option - host is vegan or the beef ran out. I will be respectful in somebody else’s yard.
Doctor orders - if I get told to lay off red meat for a stretch after bad labs, I will grumble and comply.
Real taste win - blind grill-off, smashed thin, crispy edges, smoky, juicy, no weird aftertaste, and a short ingredient list I can pronounce. Has not happened yet.
Food safety - if that beef looks sketchy or undercooked, I am not playing stomach roulette.
Cash on the line - you toss me a bet and a crisp twenty, I will choke one down for the story.
Heat mood - if it is a scorcher and heavy food sounds dumb, I am probably skipping burgers period and grabbing chicken, not a plant puck.
Price - if it is cheaper than beef and not an ingredient essay, I might consider it. Might.
Bottom line: I am not switching for slogans or guilt trips. I will do it out of respect, necessity, safety, money, or a legit taste upset. Otherwise, I am sticking with beef or just doing chile-lime chicken and calling it a day.
Semeka Valdez, 41, Unemployed Adult, Beaumont city, TX, USA:
Brutally honest? Almost nothing. I like real beef on a hot grill. Smoke, fat drip, that crust. The fake stuff tastes sweet to me and kinda weird. Pero ok, there are a few times I’d switch:
Sofia asks me to eat the same as her so it’s not a whole scene. I’ll do it for her.
Homemade veggie patty - beans or mushrooms, crispy edges, good sazón. Not the fake-meat kind. I’d pick that over a dry beef hockey puck.
Sketchy beef vibes - gray meat, flies, cooler looks sus, grill guy undercooks. I’m uninsured, mija. I’m not playing food poisoning roulette.
Stomach acting up - grease days are rough. A plant patty with avocado and pico sits lighter for me.
Better build - toasted bun or bolillo, grilled onions, jalapeños, real salsa. If the beef option looks sad with cold cheese, I’ll grab the one that got love.
Someone I trust swears this brand actually hits and lets me taste a quarter first. Social proof or I’m out.
They ran out of beef or we’re doing a no-beef week for the kid and the budget. Fine. I’ll roll with it.
But if you’re asking normal day, full spread, everything safe and hot - I’m taking the beef. Don’t try to sell me with “ultra-processed” talk either. That word makes me back up real fast.
Jared Maine, 35, Project Manager, Rural, CA, USA:
Brutally honest? Almost nothing. If there’s beef at a BBQ, I’m grabbing beef. That’s the whole point of the grill to me. Only ways I’d switch:
Politeness: Host only has plant patties or they’re proud of a recipe and want feedback. I’ll play ball.
Food safety: The beef looks sketchy, sat in the sun, or is thick and undercooked. I’m not rolling the dice.
Doctor orders: If I’m on a short run of cutting red meat because labs are coming up, fine, plant patty it is.
Taste shock: Blind taste and it actually eats like a smashed, well-seared burger and the kids like it without faces. Then maybe.
Real veggie patty: A legit black-bean-jalapeño patty someone made at home, griddled with a crust. I’ll pick that over fake-meat stuff sometimes because it owns what it is.
Otherwise, nah. I’ll eat plants, just not plant-pretend-meat. But hey, I’m the guy who color-codes grocery lists, so grain of salt.
When you hear "plant-based meat" what is your honest gut reaction? And does hearing it called "ultra-processed" change how you feel about it?
Eric Landon Myers, 33, None, Cape Coral, FL, USA:
Gut reaction to plant-based meat: kind of meh. Tastes fine in tacos or chili where spices do the heavy lifting, but on a bun I get that fake aftertaste and it feels like marketing more than food. I’ll grab it at Aldi or a Publix BOGO, otherwise the price bugs me and I’d rather do beans or a piece of local fish. Hearing it called ultra-processed just makes me want it less, because long ingredient lists turn me off and I like knowing what I’m cooking. So for me it’s a sometimes thing if someone’s grilling it, not a staple in my kitchen.
Jeffrey Rivera, 32, Senior Account Director, Tuscaloosa, AL, USA:
Gut reaction: plant-based meat makes me think slick marketing and a freezer-aisle science project. I’ve tried a couple burgers and nuggets, and they’re fine buried under toppings, but the texture’s off and the price feels goofy for what you get. On the Traeger it doesn’t behave like meat, so it kind of kills the fun. Hearing “ultra-processed”: that just hardens my no. If I want lighter, I’ll grill chicken or just eat veggies as veggies. Net-net, I don’t crave it and I’m not paying a premium for it.
Christopher Mccarter, 42, Community Volunteer, Phoenix city, AZ, USA:
Gut reaction? Eye roll. When I hear "plant-based meat," I think marketing doing cartwheels. Just say veggie patty. Meat is meat, plants are plants. I am not anti-veggies at all, I love my collards and black beans, but I do not need my vegetables pretending to be brisket. I have tried a couple. One at a fast-food promo, one at a church potluck when somebody’s cousin went vegan. With enough sauce it was fine, but the texture felt off and the aftertaste lingered. Also sat heavy in a weird way. Then I looked at the ingredient list and it read like homework. No thanks. Does calling it ultra-processed change how I feel? Yeah, it just confirms my side-eye. I try to keep it simple these days. If I need to Google half the ingredients, I am not excited to put it in my body. And paying extra for that privilege? Hard pass. Bottom line:
Words: Sounds like hype.
Taste/texture: Passable, not satisfying.
Ingredients: Too long, too lab-y.
Price: Not worth it.
"Ultra-processed" label: Pushes me from curious to nah.
If it is the only option at a cookout, I will be polite, throw on some mustard, and keep it moving. But given a choice on a sunny Phoenix day like this, I am firing up real chicken with chile-lime rub and calling it good.
Semeka Valdez, 41, Unemployed Adult, Beaumont city, TX, USA:
Pues, mira, gut reaction to "plant-based meat"? Eye roll first, then a side-eye at the price. I think, ok fine, but is it chewy and kinda sweet? For tacos or chili, sometimes it works because I drown it in sazón. As a burger patty, mmm no, it tastes fake to me. Sofia likes it more than I do, I just take a bite and move on. When I hear "ultra-processed," yeah, that word makes me tense. I picture a long label with stuff I can’t pronounce and my stomach already says nope. I’m uninsured, so I get nervous about anything that might make me feel weird. Still, on a tired night, if it’s on clearance and Sofia wants it, I’ll grab it and not think too hard. Pero like, truth? I’d rather do beans or mushrooms and call it a day.
