Let Me Tell You Why This Baked Sweet Potato Thing Stuck

Okay, so: you ever have one of those days where you open the fridge, eyeball some leftover broccoli, and wonder if you can really pass it off as dinner? That was basically me last winter, staring at a lone sweet potato and a can of chickpeas wearing a questionable label. Honestly, I tossed on a podcast (couldn’t even tell you which one now), started chopping, and ended up cobbling together Baked Sweet Potatoes with Chickpeas & Broccoli Pesto. No joke, it became my go-to for lazy nights — and, weirdly, the family started asking for it on purpose. Still cracks me up.

Why You’ll Love This Even When You’re Not in the Mood

I make this when it’s just me and the dog but not because anyone else wouldn’t eat it — everyone here actually loves it, except for my youngest, who “doesn’t trust green sauces,” so I just leave the pesto on the side for him. It’s also a total fridge-clearing move (sometimes I hear leftovers calling my name, and sometimes I run the other way, you know?). It takes almost no hands-on time, besides a bit of chopping and that one bit where the chickpeas roll everywhere unless you corral them carefully. Plus, it’s filling enough even my teenager won’t rummage for snacks afterward — which, I swear, is a miracle in itself.

So Here’s What You’ll Need (But There’s Wiggle Room!)

2 medium sweet potatoes (sometimes I use those weirdly shaped ones from the bottom of the bag — no shame)
1 can (400g) chickpeas, drained and rinsed — or just cook your own if you’re fancy (I’ve done both, can’t really tell the difference, to be honest)
Olive oil, maybe 2-3 tablespoons (but sometimes I just do a glug or so)
Salt and pepper — don’t stress about pepper if you hate it
For the broccoli pesto:
- 1 big handful (about 100g) broccoli florets — I even use frozen when I’ve got nothing else going
- 1/2 cup nuts: walnuts, almonds, even pumpkin seeds in a pinch — my grandma swore by walnuts, but whatever’s hanging out in your cupboard
- 1/2 cup fresh basil or parsley — basil is fancier, parsley is cheaper (I use whichever isn’t dead in the fridge…)
- 2-3 tablespoons grated parmesan (or plant-based “parmesan-style” if you’re dairy-free; nobody will notice)
- 2 cloves garlic (okay, sometimes just 1, if I’m being lazy)
- Juice of half a lemon (or a splash of bottled lemon, no one’s judging)
- About 1/4 cup olive oil, give or take (I don’t really measure here, honestly)
- Pinch of salt (taste as you go, ‘cuz pesto is never really the same twice)

How I Go About Making It (With Some Unplanned Steps)

Heat your oven to 200°C (about 400°F), or somewhere near that. Scrub your sweet potatoes — or don’t. I sometimes skip this if they look clean (oops). Poke a few holes in them with a fork, rub with olive oil and a bit of salt, and toss them right onto the rack. I usually put a pan underneath because once a potato dripped sugar onto the oven floor and it stuck there for weeks. Anyway, bake 40-50 minutes, until the skins crinkle and the insides feel soft if you poke ‘em.
While those are roasting, toss the chickpeas on a lined baking tray. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and shake ‘em around (this is when some will try their best to escape; let ‘em roll, just don’t squash them underfoot). Into the oven they go for the last 25 minutes or so, until they get golden and a bit crispy.
Pesto time! Either steam or microwave your broccoli florets for a couple minutes, just until they go nice and green but don’t get mushy (although, one time they turned to mush and it was still all right). Then, chuck the nuts, basil/parsley, parmesan, garlic, and lemon juice into a food processor. Add the broccoli once it’s cool enough to not melt everything (I learned that one the weird, runny way). Blitz until mostly smooth but not baby-food smooth, you know? Drizzle in olive oil while it’s running until you like the texture. Taste! Tweak the salt, or add a bit more cheese if you’re feeling it. Grab a spoon and sneak a bite — I always do.
Once the potatoes are done — they’ll practically collapse if you poke them — let them cool a minute so you don’t torch your fingertips. Split them open gently. Heap on those crispy chickpeas, dollop that pesto as recklessly or artistically as you like. Sometimes I go full Jackson Pollock. And that’s it!

Some Notes I’ve Learned (Mostly the Hard Way)

Overcooked chickpeas go dry and weird, so check them — I set a timer but still sometimes forget. Eh, crispy’s better than burnt.
The broccoli pesto is more forgiving than my dog when I drop food — so just wing it. Seriously, I once subbed in kale and didn’t tell anyone. No one noticed (except, okay, it was a bit more bitter).
If you can’t find parmesan, even nutritional yeast does the trick. Don’t at me, cheese purists.

If You Fancy Mixing It Up Here’s What I’ve Tried

Swapped sweet potatoes for regular jacket potatoes: works, but I missed that natural sweetness (hence the recipe name…)
Tried topping with a fried egg once. Actually, pretty tasty (but the egg stuck, and I got cranky about it).
One time I threw in sun-dried tomatoes instead of nuts cause I had no nuts — that was…not my greatest move.

Gear I Use (and When I Don’t)

Baking tray or oven rack for the potatoes (but if you only have a cast iron, that works too — it just makes them kind of smoky, in a good way?)
Food processor for the pesto—but a sturdy blender or even hand-chopping works if you don’t mind a chunkier style. I’ve done it with a stick blender; it sputters a bit, so cover with a tea towel or you’re painting the kitchen walls.

Baked Sweet Potatoes with Chickpeas & Broccoli Pesto

Making Ahead & Storing (When There’s Anything Left Over…)

You can store everything separately in the fridge, in containers with tight lids. The baked potatoes keep two or three days — though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! The pesto keeps fine for up to a week (it gets a tad stronger, which I actually like), and the chickpeas go a bit chewy after a day but still taste kinda addictive cold, I think.

How We Usually Eat It (But There’s No Rules)

This is a main dish by itself (late night dinner, anyone?), but sometimes I double up the pesto and serve it over pasta. Or keep things basic and just add a big squeeze of lemon. My eldest likes to pile on feta cheese at the table for “extra drama.” I mean, who am I to argue?

Pro Tips That I Learned the Clumsy Way

I once tried to rush the potato baking at a higher temperature — just got charred outsides and raw middles. Not recommended. Slow and steady wins the dinner.
Don’t skip letting the broccoli cool a tad before blitzing; hot pesto tastes bland (why? No idea, but it does).
If your chickpeas are too wet, dab ‘em dry with a towel first. Took me six months to realize why mine never crisped up. Oops.

FAQ (Because Yes, People Really Ask Me This…)

Could I add extra veggies? Oh, for sure. Go nuts! I’ve thrown in kale, spinach, even peas (peas actually worked out better than you’d think.)
Can I make this oil-free? Basically yes, though I do think it gets a little dry. Try adding a splash of veggie broth or some avocado in the pesto for creaminess — I got that Minimalist Baker trick, works a treat.
Is this freezer friendly? The potatoes and pesto, yes — chickpeas, not so much; they turn odd. But if you do freeze them all, let me know, because I haven’t had much luck.
What if I don’t like broccoli? Swap half for spinach or parsley. Or honestly, try this classic basil pesto recipe — it’ll do the trick.
Is this actually healthy? Look, I’m not a nutritionist, but it’s mostly veggies and beans, and I feel pretty good about it. Probably better than most takeaway, anyway.

Oh! And before I forget — the real magic is just putting your stamp on it. There are zero flavor police in my kitchen (well, unless you count the neighbor who once popped in to say it smelled odd. I told her to bring her own potatoes next time).

Baked Sweet Potatoes with Chickpeas & Broccoli Pesto Recipe Guide