Soup’s On! (Pull Up a Chair, I’ll Tell You Why I Love This One)

Ok, this Hearty Vegetable Beef Soup is one of those recipes that takes me straight back to rainy Saturdays growing up—windows fogged up, dog trying to sneak a taste, my own mom hollering for someone to chop carrots. (Not sure how she always ended up with a kitchen full of carrot-phobic kids, but here we are.) Also, I once dropped a whole bag of frozen peas in instead of measuring. Did the world end? It did not. Actually, there’s something magic about misjudging peas amounts anyway, but that’s a different rant.

Now, maybe I’m just sentimental, but I tend to crave this on chilly days when you can’t quite get warm, and you know you need something that fills you up but doesn’t feel like rocket science to make. Oh, and it makes your kitchen smell ridiculous in the best way (neighbors will compliment you in the hallway, I swear).

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Soup

I make this when I’m feeling nostalgic, lazy, hungry, or just a bit grumpy—basically anytime except, maybe, during a heatwave. My family goes a bit mad for it, though my youngest picks out the celery (honest, I tried to disguise it once and she caught me; kids have celery radar, I guess). It’s the sort of thing that forgives you if you use the wrong cut of meat, or if you forget to chop your onions evenly. (Plus, you can clear your veggie drawer of those “probably still good” carrots and potatoes!) I honestly think this soup is even tastier the next day—assuming there actually is any left by then, which in my house, honestly, is rare.

What Goes In (And What Can Sub Out)

500g stewing beef, cubed (I cheat sometimes and use ground beef if I’m out—honestly, no one’s ever complained)
3 big carrots, chopped (or a handful of baby carrots, if you’re like me and hate peeling)
2-3 celery stalks, sliced (skip if you must; though my Aunt Mags would disown me for saying that)
1 large onion, diced (red or yellow; it all tastes good in the end)
2 potatoes, peeled and chunked (sometimes I even leave the skins on for that “rustic” vibe)
1 can diced tomatoes (400g or so; sometimes I just chuck in fresh tomatoes if they’re about to go soft)
1 cup frozen peas (or all the peas in the freezer if you’re me last winter, oops)
1 cup sweetcorn (frozen, canned, leftover from tacos night; just don’t stress about it)
1 teaspoon dried thyme (but fresh if you have it; or rosemary, if you fancy a change)
2 bay leaves (seriously, just pull them out later—try not to forget!)
1.2 litres beef stock (store-bought, bouillon cubes, or homemade; my gran would say homemade, but life’s too short sometimes)
Salt and pepper, to taste

Let’s Get Cooking (The Not-So-Professional Version)

Brown the beef: Grab your biggest pot (mine’s a bit dinged up—adds flavor, right?). Add a splash of oil, get it nice and hot, dump in the beef, and brown it well. Don’t crowd the pan, or it’ll steam and get weirdly gray. (This is usually when I spill a bit and have to chase the cat out of the kitchen.)
Sauté the veg: Once the beef looks like it’s been sunbathing too long, throw in the onions, carrots, and celery. Give them a good stir—things are going to start smelling real homey now. Cook till the onions go translucent. Sometimes I add a pinch of salt at this stage, not sure it actually does anything, but it feels fancy.
Potatoes, spices, and tomatoes: Add potatoes, thyme, bay leaves, and then the can of tomatoes (juice included). Give everything a quick swirl.
Stock up: Pour in your beef stock. Bring to a gentle simmer—not a rolling boil or you’ll toughen the meat. Don’t panic if it looks a touch cloudy; it’ll clear up as it cooks.
Let it do its thing: Partially cover and simmer on low, 60-90 minutes. This is the bit where you can do other stuff (or watch half a movie—I’ve done it!) Just stir from time to time. Potatoes should go buttery soft, beef tender.
Finishing touches: Toss in peas and corn (from frozen’s totally fine). Simmer another 10 minutes until everything’s piping hot. This is when I start “taste testing” and considering second bowls.
Season and serve: Yank out those bay leaves (I always forget one and find it later, sigh). Season with salt and pepper. Serve hot, with bread if you fancy being extra.

A Few Real-Life Notes (Because Perfection Is Boring)

I once tried adding green beans and, honestly, personally regretted it. They went a bit mushy. Maybe you’ll have better luck?
If it gets thicker than you meant, just splash in more stock or even water (promise, no one notices after that first slurp).
The soup never looks quite as good as it smells in photos. Just saying.

Variations I’ve Given a Whirl

Sometimes, I chuck in barley—that’s great, makes it all extra hearty. Or swap out potatoes for turnips if I’m feeling like mixing things up, though my partner says it’s “too rooty” (make of that what you will). Once tried adding lentils instead of beef. Did it work? Well, sure, but my family kept asking where the beef went, like that old ad…

And, on a total tangent, there was once an unfortunate chili powder incident. I do not recommend, unless you want ‘spicy chaos soup’. (Not awful but…not this soup.)

So What If You Don’t Have Every Kitchen Gadget?

Big stockpot is ideal. Don’t have one? Use whatever’s deep enough. I’ve doubled this recipe in my Dutch oven, and once in a slow cooker on low—it works, but start it early or you’ll eat at midnight!

Keeping It (If There’s Any Left)

Tastes even better the next day, honest. Store it in a lidded container in the fridge. Lasts about 3 days (unless you’ve a soup goblin in your house). For freezing, cool completely then portion into bags or containers. Soups like this freeze like champs. Though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day!

Ways I Like to Serve It

Big bowl, crusty bread, some salty butter—it’s what Sunday dreams are made of. My cousin claims it needs a handful of grated cheddar on top (it’s good, but kinda messy). I sometimes throw in a dash of Worcestershire just before eating if I want a little zing—try it!

Real Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Don’t rush the simmer. I once tried to speed up by turning up the heat; ended up with beef hockey pucks. Just trust the process. Low and slow, friend.
Always check your salt at the end. Soup concentrates as it simmers, and boy, can it get salty fast if you go wild early. Learned that by accident on, uh, two occasions.
Oh! And don’t forget to fish out those bay leaves. Not as fun as you’d think to accidentally chew one.

Questions People Actually Ask Me (Or Text at 10pm)

Do I have to brown the beef? Nah, but I think it tastes way richer if you do. You can skip it in a slow cooker though if you’re really pressed.
Can I make this vegetarian? Sure—ditch the beef, swap in mushrooms and extra beans or lentils. Actually, I find it works better if you toss in a splash of soy sauce for depth.
What kind of beef’s best? Cheap and cheerful stewing beef. Honestly, even cut-up roasting joints work. Don’t stress it.
Does this work in a pressure cooker? Yep—about 20 minutes under pressure, check the liquid, add peas at the end.
Can I make this spicy? Suppose you could, but it’s not really meant to be. Maybe a pinch of chili flakes if you want to live dangerously, but see my earlier ‘chili powder incident’ for warning!
What bread do you eat with it? Whatever’s handy, but I’ve been known to make a quick soda bread (here’s a great one). Sometimes I cheat and use those bake-at-home rolls from the supermarket.
How big is a ‘handful’ exactly? Well, bigger than a doll’s hand, smaller than a football. But honestly, just eyeball it!

If you want another cozy meal, check out this beef barley soup guide I reference when I’m feeling extra fancy—but honestly, just make whatever reminds you of home. And if you don’t have thyme, don’t stress. Soup’s forgiving like that. Enjoy!

Hearty Vegetable Beef Soup