Name: One Pot Moroccan-Inspired Chickpea Quinoa Salad
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 25 min
Total time: 40 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Moroccan
Ingredients: 1 cup quinoa, rinsed; 1 can (15 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed; 2 cups vegetable broth; 1 small red bell pepper, diced; 1 medium carrot, grated or finely chopped; 1/2 cup red onion, finely chopped; 2 tablespoons olive oil; 2 teaspoons ground cumin; 1 teaspoon ground coriander; 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika; 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon; Salt and black pepper to taste; 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley; Juice of 1 lemon

Let Me Tell You About My Chickpea Quinoa Salad Habit

Okay, imagine this: It’s Monday, my grocery list is the length of my arm, and honestly, patience has left the building (along with my car keys—still missing). But this One Pot Moroccan-Inspired Chickpea Quinoa Salad just gets me. First stumbled onto the idea when my neighbour wandered over with a bowl, and after a few bites, I basically became the local quinoa evangelist. Might’ve scared my partner with how excited I got. Anyway, if you’ve ever craved something hearty, satisfying, and a little bit rebellious—all in one pot, no gigantic cleanup—this is the one. Spoon at the ready?

One Pot Moroccan-Inspired Chickpea Quinoa Salad

Why I’m Always Making This

I make this when a) I need dinner fast, b) I don’t want to wash seven pans, and c) I want something that even my picky sister will eat without her patented “Is this weird?” face (except she picked out the red onion once—can’t win ‘em all). My whole bunch goes mad for the warm spices (okay, I may accidentally double the cumin). And when I’m having those meh days, the colors alone make the kitchen look alive. Plus, you can do it with wilted herbs you forgot in the fridge; I think of it as fridge magic. Sometimes I just want something that feels like a meal and not just… ingredients in a bowl, you know?

What You’ll Need (It’s Forgiving, Promise!)

1 tablespoon olive oil (I’ve used sunflower oil during kitchen dry spells—honestly, you won’t notice)
1 small red onion, diced (yellow works fine if that’s what’s rolling around)
2 cloves garlic, minced (confession: I sometimes do the lazy thing and use that jarred kind, but it’s not quite the same)
1 carrot, grated or finely chopped (or just skip it—it’s not a dealbreaker)
1 bell pepper, diced (any color—green is fine, though my aunt insists it’s more “authentic” with orange. I’m skeptical)
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin (just use a heaped teaspoon and call it a day)
1 teaspoon smoked paprika (sweet or hot, up to you—actually I’ve sometimes mixed them and lived to tell the tale)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (I’ve skipped it in a rush, but honestly, try not to)
1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas, drained & rinsed (canned or home-cooked—my grandma has OPINIONS about this, but you do you)
3/4 cup quinoa, uncooked (white, red, tricolor… it all works)
2 cups vegetable broth (water with a bouillon cube is fine, promise)
1/2 teaspoon salt (or more, taste and see)
Black pepper, to taste (I forget this occasionally and it’s… fine)
Pinch of chili flakes, optional (I say optional, but who are we kidding?)
1/2 cup raisins or dried apricots, chopped (sultanas once snuck in; nobody complained)
Handful of chopped fresh parsley or cilantro (don’t stress if it’s only, like, three leaves)
Lemon wedges, to serve

How I Actually Make It

Heat the olive oil in a big-ish pot over medium heat. Chuck in the diced onion and sauté till soft and kinda see-through (about 5 minutes?). I usually add the garlic halfway, because I’m worried about burning it (personal paranoia).
Next, toss in the carrot and bell pepper. Stir it around for another few minutes. This is when you start to smell the good stuff happening—if you’re anything like me, you’ll lean over and inhale like a weirdo.
Now add the cumin, smoked paprika, cinnamon, and let them toast a bit. Don’t rush this bit—once I did, and everything tasted a bit raw. Smells wild here. (I sometimes sneak a taste of the veggies at this point, just saying.)
Tip in the chickpeas and quinoa. Give it all a good stir so everything’s got the spices on ‘em. Then pour in the broth, add salt, pepper, chili flakes, and dried fruit (if using). A bit of a weird stage—looks like soup, but don’t panic.
Bring the lot to a boil (you know the drill), then turn it right down to a gentle simmer. Pop on a lid (old tea towel as makeshift, if you’re out of lids—happens!) and let it do its thing for 18–20 minutes. Probably peek once or twice to check liquid; it’ll be pretty much absorbed when it’s ready. Don’t worry if it’s a bit wet—takes a few minutes to settle.
Take it off the heat, scatter over the herbs, squeeze in a bit of lemon, and fork it up gently so it gets fluffier. I always—always—take a cheeky forkful here. For science.
Scoop into bowls, top with more herbs or a little crumbled feta if you want (strictly optional, but nice if you have it). Serve with extra lemon.

Half-Baked Notes I’ve Picked Up Over Time

Cool leftovers down before stuffing them in the fridge. If you cram it in hot, the steam makes it weirdly soggy (learned that the hard way, twice).
Sometimes my quinoa clumps a bit if I forget to stir. Honestly—just fluff it up, nobody will notice.
If you’re out of carrots or peppers, sub with zucchini or even frozen peas. I promise it’s flexible.

Random (and Sometimes Oddball) Variations

Tried this once swapping quinoa for bulgur? It worked… sort of. Bulgur gets mushy if you cook it too long, so maybe not my wisest experiment. But the flavor was still there!
Olives on top are excellent if you’re feeling grown-up.
If you’re all about protein, add a handful of toasted nuts (almonds, cashews, whatever’s hanging about) at the end.
I put in sweet potato cubes one time. They need extra simmering, but oh wow—delicious (and filling, too).

What To Use (And What To Improvise)

A big pot with a lid is ideal, but—if you’ve only got a wide saucepan, just keep checking the liquid and cover with foil. It’ll be close enough.
Chopping board and knife, obviously. (I once tried to dice an onion with a bread knife. Would not recommend, unless you enjoy chaos.)
Wooden spoon or spatula—you’ll want something sturdy for stirring. Metal is fine too, just watch the nonstick if you’re precious about it.

How Mine Vanishes (Leftovers…Maybe)

Technically, it’ll keep in the fridge for 3 days, sealed up tight. But—real talk? It never lasts more than a day around here. I think it tastes even better on day two, when the spices settle in, but don’t ask me for proof; it’s almost always gone by then. If you want to heat it up, just a splash of water in the pan does the trick, or eat it cold like a sturdy salad. Honestly, one of those rare things that’s somehow good either way.

How I Serve This (Or, Table Traditions)

I love it warm, with a big squeeze of lemon and maybe some crusty bread to scoop up the last bits. Sometimes I pass feta or plain yogurt around at the table, because why not. If we’re feeling fancy, garnish with extra chopped herbs and a handful of roasted nuts… But most of the time, people are just grabbing forks straight out of the pot. No shame in that.

Oops, Here Are Some Lessons I Learned The Hard Way

I once tried skipping the simmer and just covering the pot off the heat. Don’t do it. The quinoa was crunchy and not in a good way.
Leaving out the dried fruit? You can but it loses a bit of that sweet bite I crave. But hey, you do you.
Overcrowded the pot with too many extras once—kinda turned into stew. Not the end of the world, but go easy on add-ins, at least first go.

Your Questions, Answered—Sort Of

Can I use canned quinoa? Is that even a thing?: I actually don’t think canned quinoa is a thing—at least, I’ve never seen it in Tescos. But if you’ve precooked quinoa, just stir it in at the end with a splash less broth. It won’t be as hearty, but works if time’s tight.
Does this freeze well?: Meh, it’s okay—I think the texture’s best fresh, but I have put leftovers in the freezer when I overestimated (classic me). Defrost in the fridge for less mushiness.
Can I skip the cinnamon?: You can, especially if someone absolutely loathes it. But it’s kinda the soul of this dish, so maybe just use a pinch. Or not. Up to you!
How do I keep it from sticking?: If your pot’s a bit dodgy for sticking, a tiny splash more oil helps, or keep the heat low and add an extra tablespoon of broth halfway. Been there.
What do you eat with this?: Bread, yogurt, leftover grilled chicken… Or nothing—the salad is hearty enough if you’re not in the mood to fuss. I’m lazy, so usually just lemon and bread and done.

Oh, and quick tangent: am I the only one who eats the lemon wedges as is at the end? My family thinks I’m weird. Maybe I am. But you’ve got to make your own traditions.

One Pot Moroccan-Inspired Chickpea Quinoa Salad