Let’s be honest. I never actually thought I would ever fall in love with a beef stew. I mean, it’s beef stew. You chop up some stuff, throw it all in, and leave it. Not the kind of meal that you think you want to write about, not the kind of meal that makes you take a bite and immediately text someone a photo of. But. Here we are. Because this crockpot version? It’s different, It’s just different.
It’s one of those meals that feels like it should be more involved than it is. It smells like you’ve been standing over the stove, slaving over the dish, all afternoon when in reality, you were chopping vegetables in your pajamas before work, putting it all in the slow cooker, and leaving. And then, by the time it’s dinnertime? You have this pot of rich, tender, fall-apart beef, cozy vegetables, and a broth that tastes like you (almost) broke into someone’s French grandmother’s house and stole it.
Anyway—this is how it goes. Get Your Stuff Together (It’s Not a Short List But it’s all Regular Stuff)
You’ll need:
2 to 3 lbs of good chuck roast (cut off some of the fat, cut it into pieces)
4 peeling carrots, cut them into pieces
4 celery stalks
1 can of diced tomatoes (do not drain)
2 onions, cut roughly (don’t get fancy)
6 cloves of garlic (minced—don’t skip out on this)
1 small can of tomato paste
6 red potatoes, cut roughly
1 bottle of beer (optional, but it’s doing a ton of flavor work here)
1 cup of beef broth or stock
salt and pepper
2 bay leaves
flour (for the beef coating)
chili or paprika powder if you want to spice it up a bit
a little oil to sear
First: Season and Sear the Beef (don’t skip this step)
To start, season the beef cubes with salt and pepper, and maybe some paprika or chili powder if you’re up for it. Coat the pieces lightly in flour (not to batter them) but just for a little dusting. This is what gives you that slight thickening and silky texture in your stew later.
Next, get a pan hot with oil and brown the beef. You won’t be cooking it through here; you just want to get a good sear on the beef on all sides. All that color = flavor. Yes, it’s a little more work, and yes, it makes a difference.
The Slow Cooker Dump Zone
Once the beef has browned, dump it into your slow cooker. Add your carrots, celery, onions, garlic, potatoes—all of it goes in, rustic cuts totally fine. This isn’t a five-star plating situation. This is “I want dinner to taste like a hug.”
Add in the can of diced tomatoes (liquid included), the tomato paste, the beef broth, and if you’re using beer, now’s the time. Use something medium-bodied—not too light, not too hoppy. A brown ale or amber works great. Don’t use anything you wouldn’t drink. That rule always applies.
Then tuck in your two bay leaves. You’ll forget they’re there, but they’ll quietly make everything taste better.
Let It Do Its Thing
Set the slow cooker to low for 8 hours, or high for 4 to 5. Honestly, the longer you can go, the better. The beef needs time to break down into something spoon-tender, and the vegetables need to soak up all that broth and tomato-beer flavor.
And yeah, your kitchen is going to smell absurdly good by hour three. It’ll be that mix of “something’s cooking” and “I need to eat right now” even though dinner’s still hours away.
Taste, Adjust, Don’t Forget to Pull the Bay Leaves
When the timer’s up, pop the lid and take a second to just inhale. It’s wild how a bunch of random ingredients can turn into something this rich and comforting with basically no effort. Remove the bay leaves (seriously, don’t forget that), then taste and adjust. Maybe a little salt, maybe a little more broth if it’s too thick—this is where you make it yours.
Serve however you want—just serve it hot.
You can ladle it right into bowls, maybe serve it with some crusty bread for dunking. Or pour it over rice or mashed potatoes if you’re really going carb heavy. There’s no wrong answer here.
It’s thick. It’s savory. The beef is tender enough to break up with a spoon and the broth has this deep, sour complexity from the tomato and beer that makes it feel a little fancy compared to your average stew. The potatoes soak up all the broth, and the carrots still have just a little bit of crunch. It’s pretty much perfect.
Why This Stew Is Worth Making Again (And Again)
It’s simple—but doesn’t taste simple. That’s the whole slow cooker trick: it makes you look way more competent than you probably are. And it’s flexible. Want mushrooms? Sure. Skip the celery? Fine. But do not forget the garlic or the tomato paste. Those two are non-negotiable.
Also, the leftovers reheat like a champ. Honestly, I would say it’s even better the next day. It’s amazing what just a little fridge time can do to deepen and marry flavors.
I’m sure this will be a regular feature on our weekly dinner rotation. Cold day? Make it. Crazy weeknight? Make it. Hungry group of people to feed without losing your mind? Make it. It’s simple, comforting, and crazy satisfying.
If you’re cool with this kind of slow cooker magic, you’ll also want to try the one for corned beef and cabbage. Same low effort, high reward feel.
Anyway, just make the stew, ok? You won’t regret it!
