Sit Down, Let’s Talk About This Stew

You know how some days just scream out for a bowl of something warm, filling, and—let’s be honest—made from what you actually managed to grab at the supermarket? That’s basically how this Cozy White Bean Mushroom Stew was born. I think of one rainy Tuesday when I came home in the mood for something hearty but also, I didn’t want to spend forever cooking (or washing up, truth be told). I threw together a bunch of mushrooms and beans, and my flat started to smell like what I imagine a Hobbit’s dinner party would. My mate Jamie turned up for “just one” bowl and ended up hanging around until we had to polish off the loaf of bread, too. So, yeah—this stew has some happy memories attached (oh, and there was a minor incident with the salt shaker, but I’ve recovered now).

Why I Keep Making This (And Why Maybe You Will, Too)

I make this when I can’t face another bowl of plain old veggie soup, or when my family keeps giving me that look that means “please, not tofu again.” My nieces go mad for it because they think the mushrooms look like little hats. Sometimes I cook this just because it’s easy to freeze (though, honestly, it never gets that far at my house). Plus, it’s forgiving—which is good, since I once knocked in twice the garlic when I sneezed halfway through peeling it. Still tasted great, though (maybe even better?). And, if you love a meal you can eat three nights in a row without rolling your eyes, this is your stew.

What You’ll Need (But You Can Mess With It)

Olive oil—or really, any kind of neutral oil; I’ve been desperate enough to use sunflower.
1 large onion (diced)—Red, yellow, white; I’m not picky, and neither is the stew.
3 cloves garlic (minced)—Or more, if you had a hard day.
2 carrots (sliced in whatever way doesn’t make you curse)
300g (about 10oz) mushrooms—I usually use cremini, but button or even portobello work fine. Shiitake once got thrown in by mistake and wasn’t bad at all.
2 cans (400g each) white beans (like cannellini or Great Northern), drained and rinsed—But really, any cooked bean. Heck, I’ve used chickpeas and no one rioted.
3 cups veggie broth—Homemade is lovely, but I almost always reach for a stock cube (my gran loved Kallo, but I just grab what’s on sale).
1 tsp dried thyme
½ tsp smoked paprika—gives it a bit of oomph.
A dash of soy sauce or tamari
Salt and pepper—But don’t get heavy handed at first, since some broths are quite salty.
Fresh parsley (optional for serving)

Right, Let’s Actually Cook

Start by heating a good glug of olive oil in a big-ish pot, over medium heat. Toss in your diced onion and carrots. Give them a stir, then let them sweat for about 5–7 minutes until they look a bit soft and smell like “something’s cooking.”

Pro tip: if they start to brown too much, just chuck in a splash of water to calm things down. This step always feels like it takes longer than it should, but patience pays off, promise.
Throw in your garlic, mushrooms, thyme, and smoked paprika. Stir it around—don’t worry if the mushrooms look ridiculously big at first; they’ll shrink faster than wet socks by a radiator. As they cook, this is where I usually sneak a taste (if no one’s watching). 8–10 minutes is plenty.
Add your drained beans, veggie broth, and a dash of soy sauce. Bring the whole thing up to a gentle bubble (not a rolling boil; who has time for splatters?).
Turn heat to low, pop the lid on, and let it simmer for 20–25 minutes. Give it a casual stir now and then; you don’t have to hover, but don’t wander off to start a marathon phone call (…ask me how I know).
Season to taste, then squish a few beans against the side of the pot to make it thicker. Or don’t; up to you. Sometimes I add a splash more broth if it’s looking stodgy (which is British for, you know, very thick). Top with chopped parsley if you’re feeling fancy.

Some Notes (Because I’ve Messed This Up Before)

If you overdo the paprika, it can get a bit strong. Actually, I find it works better if you start small, taste, then add a bit more as you like.
I used to skip the soy sauce, but now I think the stew really misses it when it’s not there. If you can’t have soy, a splash of balsamic vinegar works in a pinch—though it changes the color to a sort of odd brown.
You can totally make this ahead; I reckon it actually tastes better the next day, or even a day after that if you hide it behind the almond milk. Just don’t forget it in the back of the fridge (guilty).
If you want it creamier, don’t be shy about mashing up some of the beans right in the pot.

If You Want to Mix Things Up

I’ve swapped in black beans once—wasn’t my favorite, but it didn’t go uneaten, either. Chickpeas hold up nicely, though the stew gets a bit chunkier.
Kale or spinach thrown in for the last five minutes is smashing—kind of feels more virtuous, too.
Once tried it with a splash of coconut milk. Tasted good, but looked a bit odd (sort of a grayish color I wasn’t jazzed about).
If you fancy a bit of heat, throw in some chili flakes.

What You’ll (Probably) Need To Cook This

One big pot—A Dutch oven is great, but I usually use my old soup pot. If you don’t have one, anything deepish does the trick; just stir carefully.
Chopping board & knife—But you can always use pre-chopped veggies if you’ve had enough of adulting for one day.
Wooden spoon—Though, in a pinch, a heat-safe spatula works alright (my cousin once used a soup ladle, not ideal, but hey, dinner happened).

Leftovers and Storage (If You’re Lucky Enough To Have Any!)

Pop leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge. Should last about 3–4 days—though in my place, it rarely survives more than 24 hours. You can freeze it, but I’d recommend using it within a couple weeks for best flavor (otherwise it starts to taste like “freezer” instead of stew).

Here’s How We Like to Serve It

Big ladlefuls, straight into oversized bowls. My brother insists it’s best with a hunk of rustic sourdough, toasted. On second thought, I tend to slather that bread in vegan butter, then mop the bowl with it at the end. Sometimes I sprinkle on roasted pumpkin seeds—fancy, right?

Lessons Learned (Aka “Please Don’t Skip These Steps”)

I once tried rushing the mushroom stage, thinking “eh, they’ll finish cooking later.” Huge mistake. Mushrooms need their moment to brown; makes all the difference.
Don’t get distracted and leave the lid off while simmering—the broth will disappear before you know it, and suddenly it’s stew porridge (unless that’s your thing?).
If you’re doubling the recipe, add extra broth. My best mate tried tripling it for a party and ended up with more of a dip than a stew. Tasted great on crackers, though.

What People Always End Up Asking Me

Can I use dried beans? Yep! Just cook them first (I learned this the hard way; uncooked beans don’t magically become tender in 20 minutes).
Do I have to use mushrooms? I mean, it’s a mushroom stew, but technically you could switch for zucchini or eggplant. It won’t be the same, but I’m not judging. Also, these tips on cooking mushrooms are a lifesaver if you want to really nail the texture.
What if I don’t have veggie broth? Warm water and a bouillon cube works. Or, honestly, I once just used salty pasta water. Seemed to do the trick.
Is this really better the second day? In my opinion, yes. Flavors settle in, kind of like how pie is better for breakfast the day after Thanksgiving.
Any good sides? Oh absolutely—if you’re not up for making bread, check out these super simple vegan bread recipes. Or just some crackers. Go wild.

And there you have it. Real food, real rambling, and (hopefully) some useful tidbits thrown in. Hope you love this Cozy White Bean Mushroom Stew—and if you end up sneaking a midnight bowl while watching old sitcoms, you’re not alone.