Let Me Tell You About Beef Stew and Dumplings…

Alright, so if you know me, you know winter is basically my excuse for making pots of stew so big you practically need a paddle to stir them. I’ve got this beef stew and dumplings recipe that, I swear, once brought my usually grumpy uncle back for second helpings (he claims he “doesn’t like wet bread,” but whatever, I saw his plate). Honestly, I probably first learned it from watching my mum, who always said, “If you can smell it down the street, you did it right.” But don’t worry, you won’t need to be a wizard in the kitchen for this to be stupidly comforting.

By the way, if the house starts to smell like you’ve been simmering for days? That’s half the magic, mate.

Why I’d Bet You’ll Love This (And When I Make It)

I pull this recipe out on cold Sundays—preferably when everyone’s lazing about and nobody minds that it takes a while. My family (especially my son, who’s fussy as a cat) goes wild for the dumplings; I used to think stew was boring until I figured out how easy it is to just lob a bit of fluffy dough on top. And, on a slightly embarrassing note, this stew’s actually rescued a sad piece of fridge beef more than once. Got half a carrot and a bendy celery stick? In they go! Oh, and leftover stew dumplings make a weirdly excellent breakfast if you’re one of those people who doesn’t mind microwaving things that probably shouldn’t be microwaved.

This is definitely one for when you’re feeling lazy but want folk to think you’ve really put your back into it. (And anyway, no two batches ever turn out exactly the same. It’s a miracle.)

What You’ll Need (Ingredient Swaps and a Bit of Honesty)

About 750g (a pound and a bit) stewing beef – I’ll use shin if I’m feeling fancy, but really, anything that says ‘stew’ at the butcher will work. Once, in a pinch, I used chuck steak – surprisingly lovely.
2-3 large carrots – or “carrot-shaped items,” as my grandmother insisted. Parsnips are fair game.
1-2 onions, chopped – Red or yellow? Both work. Brown onions get slightly sweeter, but who cares?
2 sticks celery – Or double-up on carrot if celery gives you the ick.
2 cloves garlic (smash ‘em up a bit)
2 tbsp plain flour (sometimes I skip this, but it does make the stew nice and thick)
750ml to 1L beef stock – If you’re desperate, a stock cube and boiling water will do. My gran would haunt me if she heard, but life happens.
2-3 sprigs of thyme, or a good sprinkle of dried thyme
1-2 bay leaves (don’t eat these; don’t ask me how I know it tastes bad)
Salt & pepper, to taste
“Secret” ingredient (optional but highly recommended): a teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce or a splash of soy sauce—trust me.
For the dumplings:

150g self-raising flour (about a cup)
A generous pinch of salt
60g suet (or butter if you can’t be faffed with suet—it works, just don’t tell the traditionalists)
A splash of cold water to bring it all together
Handful of parsley or chives if you want green flecks

How to Go About It (And When to Trust Your Instincts)

Brown the beef: Grab a big heavy pot (you know, the kind you secretly wish you could afford from Le Creuset but got on sale instead). Add a glug of oil, get it hot, and throw in the beef in batches. Don’t crowd it or it’ll gloom up; you want it golden, not sad and gray. (This is when I usually end up eating a rogue beef cube. Oops.)
Chuck in the veg: Toss in your chopped onions, carrots, and celery. Stir so they pick up those meaty brown bits. If your onions start sticking a bit, add a splash of water and scrape up the tasty gunk (technical term there).
Add garlic and flour: In goes the garlic—don’t burn it. Sprinkle over the flour (actually, I find it works better if you take the pot off the heat for a sec; less chance of clumps). Stir stuff around until the blancmange-ish look goes away.
Liquid and flavor: Pour in your stock slowly, stirring like a mad thing. Add bay leaves, thyme, Worcestershire sauce (if you’ve got it), and season. Bring it up to a bubblin’ simmer, then drop the heat right down. Lid on. Leave it be for at least 1½ hours. (This is usually when I take a tea break and forget about it. All’s well, it likes being ignored.)
Dumpling time: About 30 minutes before serving, mix flour, salt, and suet or butter in a bowl. I use my hands. Add just enough water till it barely sticks together—it shouldn’t be gloopy, think squishy Play-Doh. Roll into walnut-sized balls. Drop them carefully onto the bubbling stew. Lid back on and don’t you dare peek for about 25 minutes. The steam puffs them up, so don’t ruin the surprise (I’m not letting go of that mistake…)
Taste for salt and pepper. Fish out the bay leaves unless you like surprises with dubious texture. Stew done!

Little Notes (A.K.A. What I’ve Realised After Stuffing This Up)

If the stew still looks watery just before the dumplings go in, take the lid off for a bit and crank up the heat. It thickens up quickly. But watch it—walked away once and basically branded my pot.
If you’ve made the dumpling dough too wet, add a dusting more flour. Other way around? A little extra water, but not too much. You’ll feel it. If it sticks to your fingers like glue, start over.
I think this honestly tastes richer if made a day ahead and reheated – the flavors just sort of settle in, like a well-worn jumper.

Variations I’ve Tried (Don’t Blame Me for the Odd Ones!)

Lamb instead of beef? Turns out lovely, especially with rosemary instead of thyme.
Added a splash of Guinness once—gave it depth, but a bit too stouty for the kids.
Add a tin of chopped tomatoes; makes it more Mediterranean, which is weird if you’re expecting very British comfort food, but, eh, might be your thing.
Once tried making the dumplings with wholemeal flour… came out a bit like cannonballs. Wouldn’t recommend, unless you’re looking for a workout.

Tools You’ll Need (But Don’t Stress If You Don’t Have Them)

A big, heavy pot or Dutch oven – mine was a charity shop find! If you’ve only got a slow cooker, just sear the meat in a frying pan first.
Chopping board and a sharp-ish knife. If your knife isn’t sharp, well, just go slower, maybe pop on a podcast (Serious Eats Podcast is a good call).
Mixing bowl for dumplings – in a pinch, I once used a washed out ice cream tub. Worked fine.
Spoon. Preferably big. End of, really.

What About Leftovers? (Counterpoint: What Leftovers?)

This keeps in the fridge for 2-3 days, just reheat gently so you don’t murder the dumplings. But honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day; I’ve caught my partner nicking scraps at midnight, not even sorry. You can freeze it, too, but I recommend picking out the dumplings first because they get weirdly mushy when thawed (learned that the hard way).

How to Serve (If You Even Wait for the Table)

I usually just dump it into bowls and let everyone fight over the biggest dumpling (I swear, my son uses calculus to measure the size). But on chilly weekends, serve with buttered green beans or some crusty bread if you’re feeling posh. I’ve also seen friends plop it over mashed potatoes—full carb overload, but who cares in winter?

Things I’ve Learned (a.k.a. My “Pro Tips”)

Resist the urge to rush the beef browning. I once thought I could skip that step and just let the stew do its thing—nope, tasted like shoe leather. Give it time for actual flavor.
Don’t open the lid after you’ve put the dumplings in, even if you’re convinced they’re “exploding.” They’re not. Every time I peeked, I got soggy dumplings—end of story.
If you forget the salt until the very end, just add it then – you’ll be fine, and anyway, everyone’s got their own salt opinions.

FAQs (From Real-Life Friends, Not Internet Strangers!)

Can I make this in a slow cooker?
Absolutely! Brown everything off in a pan first for flavor, then chuck it all (except the dumpling dough) in a slow cooker on low for 7-8 hours. Add the dumplings the last hour if your slow cooker gets hot enough. Otherwise, just make regular stew and cheat with ready-made rolls on top; I won’t tell.
What if I don’t have suet?
No dramas, use cold butter (grated, if you can be bothered) or even veggie suet. Dumplings aren’t that fussy, despite what people say on the BBC Good Food boards.
Why are my dumplings leaden?
Could be too much water, over-mixing, or peeking early. Or maybe you made them huge? Smaller balls puff up better.
Can I add more veg?
Yes! Peas, swede, even leeks if you’ve got random ones rolling around. My mate Kelly adds mushrooms but, honestly, I’m not convinced.
How spicy can I make it?
Chuck in a pinch of chili flakes if you like, but it does change the vibe. Good though, just…less grandma’s house, more pub lunch.

So there it is—a warming, ever-so-slightly chaotic guide to beef stew and dumplings. If nothing else, you get a house that smells like love and a dinner you can brag about (just not on Instagram, my stew never photographs well!).

Want more kitchen rambling? I sometimes read Smitten Kitchen recipes for fun ideas—Deb’s chocolate cake is another favourite if you fancy pudding after your stew.