Name: Irish Vegetarian Stew
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 45 min
Total time: 1 h 5 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Irish
Ingredients: 2 tablespoons olive oil; 1 large onion, diced; 3 cloves garlic, minced; 3 carrots, sliced; 3 potatoes, peeled and cubed; 2 parsnips, peeled and sliced; 1 cup mushrooms, quartered; 4 cups vegetable broth; 1 tablespoon tomato paste; 1 teaspoon dried thyme; 1 teaspoon dried rosemary; 1 bay leaf; Salt and pepper to taste; Chopped fresh parsley for garnish

Cuppa Tea in Hand? Let’s Make This Irish Vegetarian Stew

Alright, so let me paint you a picture: It’s lashing rain outside (classic Irish weather, yeah?) and I wanted something hearty, comforting, and, well, not involving four hours in the kitchen. Cue this Irish Vegetarian Stew. My Nana would raise her eyebrow at the lack of beef, but honestly, thank goodness she never saw me sneak in those sweet potatoes. It’s a recipe born form chilly nights, empty cupboards, and a stubborn craving for something warming. You know, the kind of stew where you keep going back to the pot, telling yourself, “One more ladle won’t hurt.” Maybe it’s the carrots or that hit of thyme—whatever it is, it always disappears faster than my socks in the wash (which is saying something).

Why You’ll Love This (or, why I keep making it anyway)

I make this when I’m craving some good old-fashioned comfort but, honestly, don’t feel up for faffing with meat. My folks go genuinely mad for it, especially if I toss in extra spuds (Irish law, I think). The stew is thick, sticking-to-your-ribs good. Sometimes I stress over the veggies not softening quickly enough, but a longer simmer always does the trick—eventually. Plus, even my mate Dave (who thinks vegetables are the work of the devil) asked for seconds. And if that isn’t a seal of approval…

What You’ll Need (Substitutions Welcome!)

2 tablespoons olive oil (or a big knob of butter if you want a richer flavor—Nana swore by Kerrygold, but who’s checking)
1 large onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced (or a hefty teaspoon of jarred stuff when I’m feeling lazy)
3-4 carrots, peeled and chunked (or parsnips—swap as you like)
2 celery sticks, sliced (I sometimes sneak in a leek if it’s hanging around looking sad)
2-3 large potatoes, diced (whatever you have; I’ve even used leftover roasties in a pinch)
1 sweet potato, cubed (optional, but gives a nice sweetness)
1/2 small celeriac, peeled and cubed (if you can be bothered; totally optional)
1 small swede or turnip, cubed (optional, go with what’s in the fridge, honestly)
1/2 small head of green cabbage, chopped
1 can (400g) chopped tomatoes
1 can (400g) cooked lentils, drained (or about 150g dried, cooked ahead—unless you forget, as I usually do)
1 litre vegetable stock (homemade if you’re super organized; I usually bung in two cubes and call it done)
1 teaspoon dried thyme (or fresh when I’m feeling fancy)
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
Salt and pepper to taste
A handful of fresh parsley, chopped (if you’ve not accidentally withered it at the back of the fridge)

How to Make It (Winging It Is Welcome)

First, heat your oil (or butter) in a hefty pot, medium heat. Toss in the onions and soften them for about five minutes. Don’t let them go brown—unless you like them a bit caramelized (I usually get distracted and this happens, not sorry).
Add garlic. Give it a swirl. If it sticks a bit, pour in a splash of water and pretend that was the plan.
Throw in the rest of the root veggies—potatoes, carrots, celery, sweet potato, and whatever extras you’re using. Stir them all about for another five or so minutes, let them catch a bit of color. (This is where I sneak a taste and burn my tongue every blooming time…)
Add cabbage and stir for another minute or two, then tip in the canned tomatoes and give everything a proper mix.
Pour in the lentils (if you remember!), then add the veg stock. Sprinkle in thyme, rosemary, and a chunk of salt and pepper. Give the whole thing a good stir. It’s probably looking muddy at this point, but don’t worry—it always does, promise.
Bring it up to a gentle boil, pop a lid on, and reduce to a simmer. Let it go for at least 40 minutes, stir occasionally (if you remember, I rarely do for the first half hour).
Taste and adjust seasoning afterwards. Sometimes I add an extra splash of stock if it’s too thick or let it bubble off a bit longer if it’s soupy looking.
Finish with parsley—or not, if it’s vanished. Give it a last taste (actually, I find it works better if you give it a bit of time to sit before serving…)

Things I’ve Figured Out (Mostly by Accident)

Lentils can absolutely turn to mush if you cook them too long—sometimes I even add them at the end. Live and learn.
Forgotten to buy parsnips? Don’t sweat it, it’s grand without them.
Sometimes it tastes even better the next day. But, fair warning, it’ll thicken up so thin it with a bit more stock or even a splash of oat milk.

Stuff I’ve Tried (You Might Laugh…)

Added Guinness once—tasted surprisingly nice, just don’t use too much or it gets a bit weirdly bitter.
Tried adding peas like my mate does—didn’t love it. Tasted like school dinners. But you do you!
I once tried it with cauliflower—disappeared into thin air (well, stew).

What You Might Need (Or Not)

Big sturdy pot—though I’ve done this in a slow cooker when feeling lazy, just dump it all in and walk away.
A good, sharp knife—or just your old faithful. I’ve even used a bread knife when desperate (not ideal, but y’know…)
Ladle for serving. Or just a mug, honestly; nobody will mind.

How to Store Your Stew (If It Survives That Long)

Pop any leftovers into an airtight container, they’ll keep in the fridge for up to 3 days (though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day!). If you want to freeze it, go ahead—just expect the veggies to get a bit softer. Still good though.

How I Serve It (My Way, Not the Highway)

My go-to is a big bowl, thick slice of soda bread for dipping (sometimes toasted with butter melting into all the cracks—heaven). If I’m trying to look fancy, I sprinkle a bit of extra parsley. Or chives if I can be bothered.

Things I’d Tell My Past Self (or You!)

Don’t rush simmering—tried to cheat once and my carrots were crunchier than a walk across gravel. Patience is a virtue, apparently.
Sometimes I add more salt than I mean to—taste first! Stew is forgiving but only to a point.
If you can, make it ahead and let it sit; the flavors sort of make friends overnight.

FAQ From Friends, Family, and Stray Neighbours

Can I make this in a slow cooker?
Ya, absolutely. Just pile everything in (except the lentils, add them halfway through if they’re tinned) and let it go on low for about 6 hours—go have a wander. Actually, here’s a slow cooker Irish stew method I riffed off once.

Can I freeze the leftovers?
Definitely. Though, I’ll be honest, potatoes go a bit funny in texture after freezing—still edible, just a tad softer than before.

Can I add dumplings?
Yep! I’ve tossed in these vegan dumplings and it’s a game changer. (Don’t tell Nana though—she had Thoughts about dumplings in stew!)

Why does mine look brown?
Not to worry—it’s always a bit brownish and chunky. Blame the lentils, not yourself! The flavor’s what matters.

Any shortcut?
You could use frozen veg mix—I’ve done it when I can’t be bothered to chop. Not as good as fresh, but you won’t catch me judging.

Little Digression—A Tale of Tea and Stew

Once, I made this on a blustery weekend for my pal while we binge-watched old sitcoms. Forgot the thyme entirely, added a rogue glug of tea (don’t ask, spilled it by accident)—and oddly enough, she loved it. Pride or politeness? Guess I’ll never know. Moral of the story: Don’t panic over little mishaps. A bit of chaos in the kitchen is half the fun.

There you go. Cozy, veg-packed, takes well to improvisation, and not a smidge of beef in sight—though you’d barely notice because it’s honestly so filling. For more ideas on Irish comfort food, I often pop over to Irish Central’s food page—those folks know their way around a stew.

Irish Vegetarian Stew Recipe That Tastes Like Home