Let Me Tell You About My Beef Stew (And That Time I Forgot the Carrots)

Okay, so here’s the thing: beef stew is basically my culinary security blanket. When the weather’s dreary or my week’s been the sort where you just want to hide form your inbox, this is what I put on the stove. I still remember the first time I tried making it from scratch; I managed to leave out the carrots entirely (don’t ask how, I was distracted by a very enthusiastic dog). It still tasted great, and honestly, that’s one of the reasons I love this recipe—it’s pretty forgiving. Also, can we talk about the smell? Few things beat walking into a kitchen that smells like simmering stew. It’s the sort of aroma that makes you want to invite someone over, even if your house is a mess.

Why You’ll Love This (Or At Least, Why I Do)

I make this when I’ve got friends coming over and I don’t feel up to being fancy. My family goes a bit wild for it—my brother claims it’s the best hangover cure, and he’s had, well, a few chances to test that theory. If I’m honest, I also whip it up on those nights when I can’t really be bothered to babysit a fussy dish; the stew just does its thing. There’s something weirdly satisfying about how easy it is, even if I have been known to forget the odd ingredient here and there (I still maintain the potato incident of 2022 wasn’t entirely my fault).

What You’ll Need (Feel Free To Wing It)

2 lbs beef chuck, cut into chunks (Sometimes I use stewing beef packs from the shop—honestly, any decent beef works. Once, I even used leftover steak, and it was fine!)
3 tbsp all-purpose flour (or just enough to toss the beef pieces—cornstarch works in a pinch, but it thickens a bit differently)
2-3 tbsp vegetable oil (I’ve used olive oil, canola, even a bit of bacon grease when feeling fancy)
1 large yellow onion, chopped (Red onion if that’s all you’ve got, but the flavor’s a bit sharper)
3-4 garlic cloves, minced (I get lazy and use jarred garlic sometimes, don’t @ me)
3 carrots, sliced (or a couple handfuls of baby carrots if you can’t be bothered)
2-3 potatoes, cubed (Russet or Yukon Gold, but sweet potatoes are a wild card option—very sweet, though!)
2 celery stalks, chopped (I’ll skip it if I don’t have any—no biggie)
4 cups beef broth (Low sodium is good, but I’ve used a bouillon cube and water in a pinch. My grandma swore by the Knorr ones.)
2 tbsp tomato paste (Ketchup in desperation, but it’s definitely not the same)
1 cup red wine (Optional, but it really does kick up the flavor. I’ll use grape juice for my teetotaling uncle.)
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried rosemary
2 bay leaves
Salt and black pepper to taste
A handful of frozen peas (tossed in right at the end—totally optional, but I like the pop of color)

How to Make It: The Real Deal (With a Few Tangents)

First, toss your beef chunks with flour, salt, and pepper in a big bowl (I use my hands—less mess, more fun). Get your biggest pot or Dutch oven heating up with the oil over medium-high heat. Brown the beef in batches so you don’t crowd the pan. Don’t rush this part; the caramelized bits are where the flavor hides. This is the step where I usually sneak one of the beef bits to “test doneness”—chef’s privilege.
Once all your beef is browned and set aside, chuck the onions into the pot. Let them get soft and a bit golden, which takes about 4-5 minutes if you don’t wander off. Add the garlic next; give it about a minute so it doesn’t burn. If you’ve got a dog, this is their moment to hover awkwardly at your feet.
Return the beef to the pot (and any juices), then add in your carrots, potatoes, and celery. Stir it all up. This is where it starts to look a bit… chaotic? Don’t worry if it seems crowded or a bit dry, the magic happens soon.
Add the tomato paste and stir for a minute, then pour in the wine (if using). Let it bubble a bit so the alcohol cooks off. Now, add the beef broth, thyme, rosemary, bay leaves, and another sprinkle of salt and pepper. Give it a good stir and marvel at how it finally looks like something you’d actually want to eat.
Bring it to a simmer. Lower the heat, put a lid on most of the way (I leave it a bit ajar so it doesn’t go volcanic), and let it gently bubble away for 1.5 to 2 hours. I like to check every so often—mainly because I’m nosy, but also to give it a stir and make sure nothing’s sticking. If it seems too thick, splash in a bit more broth or water.
About 10 minutes before you’re ready to eat, throw in a handful of peas. Taste and adjust seasoning. (Actually, I find it works better if you let it cool a touch before you go wild with the salt.) Fish out the bay leaves—unless, like me, you sometimes forget and someone gets a surprise.

Little Notes From My Many Attempts

If you want your stew extra thick, mash a couple of the potatoes right into the broth near the end; I totally stole this trick from a pub in Galway.
I used to add mushrooms, but honestly, I don’t think they do much for the flavor—just my two cents.
Don’t stress if you overcook the veggies a bit; my family actually prefers them on the softer side (less chewing, more stewing?).

Variations I’ve Tried (Some Winners, Some… Not)

Lamb instead of beef is great, but it needs a bit more rosemary. Chicken? Meh, it just doesn’t have the same oomph—probably wouldn’t bother again.
If you’re feeling adventurous, a splash of Worcestershire sauce adds a nice punch. I tried soy sauce once, but it got a bit weird—stew shouldn’t be salty-sweet, in my opinion.
I’ve made it in a slow cooker—just dump everything in after browning the beef and let it go for 6-8 hours on low. So good on a chilly Sunday.

Equipment: What You Need (Or, What I Grab When I Can Find It)

A big heavy pot or Dutch oven—if you don’t have one, a deep saucepan does the trick, though you might need to check for sticking a bit more.
A sturdy wooden spoon (or any old spoon—I’ve been known to use a spatula when all else fails!)
Sharp knife and cutting board (honestly, I just use my everyday knife; those fancy chef’s knives scare me)

How to Store It (But Good Luck Having Leftovers)

Let it cool, then stick in a container and refrigerate for up to 3 days. I think it tastes even better the next day, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—my partner’s a bit of a beef-stew bandit. You can also freeze it for a couple of months, but sometimes the potatoes get a bit mushy. Not the end of the world, though.

Serving This Up (No Need to Get Fancy)

I like mine with a big hunk of crusty bread—honestly, I’ll take whatever loaf is on offer at the supermarket, though my cousin swears by sourdough. Sometimes I top it with fresh parsley if I remember to buy it. Oh, and if you’ve never tried it with a dollop of horseradish cream, give it a go—sounds odd but it’s a game changer. Sunday stew lunches are a bit of a tradition here; we just put the pot in the middle of the table and let everyone fend for themselves.

Lessons Learned (So You Don’t Have to Repeat My Mishaps)

Don’t rush the browning step; I once tried to hurry it along and ended up with pretty sad, gray beef. Not worth it.
Add salt gradually! I once got cocky and dumped it all in at the start, and somehow the potatoes sucked up all the seasoning—so odd.
On second thought, maybe don’t skip the bay leaf. It does add a little something, even if you always forget to take it out.

FAQ (No Such Thing As a Silly Question, Right?)

Can I make this ahead? Oh, absolutely. In fact, I tend to think the flavor deepens overnight. If I’m organized (big if), I make it a day ahead and just reheat gently on the stove.
Is wine essential? Not really! Broth works fine. Grape juice, or even just more broth—do whatever suits. The wine adds depth, but I don’t always use it myself.
Can I cook it in a slow cooker? Yep! Just brown the beef first for that extra flavor, then toss everything in. You’ll want about 6-8 hours on low, but check the potatoes so they don’t go mushy.
What if I don’t have tomato paste? I’ve used a squirt of ketchup in a pinch. Not perfect, but it works. Or just skip it—no one’s policing your stew!
Where can I learn more about thickening stews? Honestly, I found Serious Eats really helpful for troubleshooting stew texture. For more ideas on making hearty meals, Smitten Kitchen’s version is worth a read—Deb always has good thoughts.

Okay, that’s about it—from my kitchen to yours. If you ever figure out how to peel potatoes without making a mess everywhere, let me know. Or don’t. Cheers and happy cooking!