Pull Up a Chair: Let’s Talk Beef Stew and Dumplings

If I’m honest, every time the weather turns (you know—when the dog refuses to go outside and the rain sounds like it’s drumming up a mutiny on the windows), my very first thought is beef stew. And not just any stew—beef stew with fluffy dumplings bobbing on top like they’re having the time of their lives. My gran made something like this, only hers involved about four hours hunched over the stove and a running commentary on how “nobody peels carrots properly anymore”; meanwhile, I just chuck stuff in the slow cooker and pray. True story: the first time I tried this, I use plain flour instead of self-raising for the dumplings, and honestly, they looked like little cannonballs. We still ate them, mind you—just… slower.

Why You’ll Love It (Or at Least Why I Do)

I bring this recipe out when I’ve been running about all day and still want something that feels like a hug in a bowl. My family goes bananas for it, especially if I remember the dumplings—which, confession, I have forgotten more than once. It makes the house smell ridiculously good, and sometimes that alone is enough to keep everyone out of the kitchen until dinner actually happens (except the cat, who doesn’t care about boundaries). Plus, this stew is one of those dishes that somehow tastes even better the next day—if, by luck, there’s any left.

The Bits and Bobs You’ll Need

Beef chuck or braising steak – around 700g. Or whatever’s on offer. I’ve even used stewing steak when funds are a bit tight.
Flour (for dusting) – regular old plain is fine. I know some folks swear by cornflour too (tried it, not convinced).
Olive oil – a slug for browning. Really, any cooking oil will do in a pinch.
2-3 carrots – chopped however you like. My gran peeled hers but honestly, I usually don’t bother unless they’re in dire need.
2 celery sticks – sliced. Or leave them out if you hate celery; nobody will notice.
1 parsnip – optional, but my kid likes the sweetness.
1 big onion – chopped. Red onions work too if that’s all you’ve got.
3 cloves garlic – crushed or chopped (I sometimes use the jar stuff when I’m feeling lazy. No shame).
1 heaped tbsp tomato purée
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce – if you forget it, don’t panic (I won’t tell anyone).
500ml beef stock – I’ve cheated with stock cubes, but anything homemade is grand if you’ve got it spare.
2 bay leaves
Fresh thyme (a few sprigs) or dried if that’s what’s knocking about in your cupboard.
Salt and black pepper – to taste; just don’t overdo it early on.

For the dumplings:

100g self-raising flour (the magic stuff that makes them pillowy—don’t use plain like I did… disaster)
50g suet (vegetarian works fine or swap in cold grated butter; it’s not traditional, but it works!)
A pinch of salt
A handful of fresh parsley (if you fancy it), chopped
About 4 tbsp cold water—just enough to bring it all together

Here’s How You Throw It All Together

First, dust the beef with a bit of flour, salt and pepper. Get a pan smoking hot and brown the meat quickly in a little oil. Don’t overload the pan (it’ll just stew, not brown). Brown equals flavour, supposedly—but I’ve skipped this step when I’m desperate, and it still works out alright.
Tip it all in the slow cooker (beef, plus all the chopped veg, garlic, tomato purée, Worcestershire sauce, herbs and bay leaves). Pour in the stock so things are just covered. Then, mix a bit (careful, it’s hot!)
Cook on low for about 8 hours, or high for 4–5 hours. I usually have a quick peek halfway through—just because I’m nosy, really. It’ll look like a bit of a mess at this stage but that’s normal.
About an hour before you want to eat, make your dumplings: Rub the suet or butter into the self-raising flour, add a pinch of salt (and parsley, if using), then dribble in enough water to bring it together. Roll into 8 rough balls (they don’t have to be perfect; rustic is the vibe here).
Pop the dumplings on top of the stew; put the lid back on. After an hour, they’ll puff up and go all lovely and soft on top, a bit firmer underneath. Sometimes I take the lid off for the last 10 minutes or so if I fancy them a bit crustier.
Taste the stew (this is usually when I forget it’s still hot and burn my tongue—classic), adjust salt and pepper as needed, then serve it up with something to mop up the gravy. And that’s dinner sorted!

Notes Nobody Told Me (But Should Have)

I always think I’ve made too many dumplings—until there’s never a single one left. They vanish. Like socks in the dryer.
If your stew is too thin, mix a spoonful of flour with a splash of water and stir it in about half an hour before eating. Actually, sometimes I just let it be soupy. Personal call.
Dumplings are a bit like people—some like ‘em light, others want them stodgy. Tinker with how long you leave the lid on and see which side you’re on.
I used to faff with red wine, but honestly, I never noticed much difference flavour-wise (controversial, I know).

Things I’ve Tried (Some More Successfully Than Others)

Added mushrooms—delish, but they go a bit squishy if you put them in at the start (so I throw them in for the last couple of hours now).
Swapped beef for lamb—works, but somehow isn’t as, I don’t know, comforting?
Once tried making the dumplings with yogurt instead of fat. Not my best idea. Wouldn’t do that again unless absolutely necessary.
Veggie version: leave out the beef, add a tin of beans, sweet potato, and LOADS of chunky veg. Not bad, actually.

Kit You’ll Want (But Workarounds Welcome)

Slow cooker – vital, but if you haven’t got one, a big ovenproof pot on low in the oven (about 150°C) works as a makeshift.
Big frying pan for browning the meat (but straight in the slow cooker is fine if you can’t be bothered).
Chopping board and/or kitchen knives. I’ve used scissors for herbs more than once; works a treat.

Here’s the (Brief) Storage Scoop

Technically, you can pop leftovers in the fridge (up to 2 days) or freeze for about a month. Thing is, in my place, they sort of, well, disappear before I even think about containers. Reheat gently, and if the dumplings seem a bit dense after freezing, pretend they’re meant to be that way—it’s rustic.

What Do I Serve With It?

Truthfully? Crusty bread, every single time. Sometimes even a heap of buttery mash if I’m out to impress. Once, my cousin asked for chips with it. Not traditional, but honestly, it wasn’t bad. Each to their own, right? Oh, and a sprinkle of sharp cheddar over the top makes my other half very happy. Go wild.

Tricks I Learned the Hard Way

I once dumped in all the salt at the start. Rookie error—it gets too salty! Taste right at the end and adjust.
Rushing the dumplings means they end up stodgy and sad. Seriously, leave them their full hour. I know it’s tempting.

FAQ From My Real, Occasionally Forgetful Friends

Can I leave this cooking while I’m at work?
Yeah! That’s sort of the point of the slow cooker, right? Just set it on low, and don’t fuss about it (unless, you know, you have a cat that likes to “help”).

What if I forget to brown the beef?
Happens to the best of us. The stew will still taste good, but the beef might look a bit pale—no need to start over though. Actually, half the time I skip this bit and nobody complains (or notices).

Can you make the dumplings dairy-free?
Totally—just use veggie suet or go with plant-based margarine. But, heads up, they sometimes don’t rise quite as much, and honestly, that’s absolutely fine.

Help, my stew’s too thin!
Add that flour-water mix I mentioned before or just let it bubble with the lid off for a while (or call it soup and pretend that’s what you meant all along).

How long does it keep?
Supposedly 2 days in the fridge, but good luck making it last that long if you’ve got teenagers.

And if you read this whole thing—congrats. You now know every single mistake I’ve ever made with beef stew and dumplings (well, nearly). Let me know how it goes, or just shout if you’ve got something even lazier I can try next time. Stay cosy!

Slow Cooker Beef Stew and Dumplings