Now then, now then. What’s all this then? Etc. It has been [REDACTED] months/years, but I’m back with some vegetarian fare that has delighted my taste buds, tickled my senses, and slept in the spare bed. We’ll be cleaning the tomato stains out of those sheets for weeks, but the important thing is this: stew.

It’s getting colder here in the UK, and I for one am looking forward to not sweating my way through the night while a fan blows uselessly across the bedsheets. I am a simple – and extremely sweaty – woman, and I would just like the opportunity to slip beneath a cosy blanket without immediately feeling unpleasantly damp.

So, stew – it is The Moment. It is fierce. It is benevolent. This recipe was made following a glance at a meaty Tuscan bean and sausage stew that included, of course, Italian sausage, and which I promptly ignored in order to make my own. This doesn’t always work, but in this case, I can confirm that it was extremely delicious, and I have absolutely no regrets.

So, let’s make some STEW.

Veggie Sausage & Bean Stew (Vegetarian, Gluten-free)

Preparation time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 45-60 minutes (hands off!)
Serves 4

Equipment

Large, lidded saucepan/dutch oven; metal tongs (optional, but useful); spatula or wooden spoon; colander; plate; large bowl, cutting board and knife (for throwing at your enemies, should they enter your kitchen without permission).

Ingredients

• 2 x 400g tins of white beans (I used cannellini and butter beans)
• 500g passata
• 8-10 sausages of choice (I used the THIS Isn’t Pork ones)
• 150g kale (chard or cavolo nero would also be grand)
• 2 x onions (red or white)
• 2 x cloves garlic (or use 2tsp lazy garlic/paste)
• Sprig of rosemary
• Handful of parsley
• Generous glug of white or red wine (optional – for deglazing)
• Splash of olive oil
• Knob of butter
• Salt & pepper
• Crusty bread, to serve (recommended)

Method

1. Step the first: put your pan on a medium heat with the butter and olive oil and pop the whole sprig of rosemary in there. You can now leave it until it starts sizzling, while you get on with other matters – such as figuring out where you left your glass of wine, or washing your kale. You can even do both! Rip out any particularly tough stalks*, wash it, and – if you’ve bought the stuff that isn’t ready to go – give it a rough chop. To make your life easier, grab an extra bowl and shove the washed, chopped kale in there so you can drain and rinse your beans next.
2. When the butter is a-sizzling and the rosemary is starting to smell as divine as rosemary does when added to hot butter, put your sausages into the pan and cook them for as long as the packet bids you to**, turning them occasionally. Peel and finely chop your onions (and your garlic, if you’re not using paste) while the sausages do their thing, or just slice the onions if you can’t be bothered. Live your best life.
3. When the sausages are cooked through and getting a bit of colour on them, take them out – along with the rosemary sprig – and put them on your plate to cool for a bit. Add the onions to the pan with a generous pinch of salt and cook for 5 minutes or so, until they’re softening up nicely, then add your garlic. Stir everything up and cook for a further 1-2 minutes, before adding the wine (50-100ml, a generous glug) if using and scraping up any bits from the bottom of the pan with your spoon/spatula. Yum. That’s flavah right there. Congratulations! You now have onion & wine soup – you’re almost ready for MasterChef.
4. Cook the onions and garlic until the wine has almost all been absorbed and cooked into the alliums, stirring occasionally, then add your drained beans and passata. If it’s a bit thick, swill the passata carton/jar out with some water and add that too. You may need to do this as it cooks and reduces down, so keep a suitable receptacle on hand. Stir everything together and add pepper and a smidge more salt, then put the lid on and turn it down to a low heat to simmer for around 15 minutes – make sure to stir occasionally so it doesn’t stick, and add more water if it’s getting a bit frisky with you. That’s a technical term.
5. Chop your sausages into chunky, bite-sized pieces, and finely chop your parsley. Once the simmering time’s up, add the sausages and kale, put the lid back on to help the kale wilt, and cook for around 5 minutes. Stir in the parsley and you’re done! Highly recommend tearing off hunks of crusty bread from the loaf like a wild animal as an accompaniment to this.

I hope you’re all well – or, if not, that you are plotting revenge against those who have made you NOT well.

H x

*Stalks of kale, not wine. If your wine has stalks in it, it’s probably past its use by.

**The reason I love the ‘THIS’ sausages so much is because they’re really meaty – it feels much more robust than a lot of veggie sausages, and I love the way it browns up in this dish.