This Spinach and Chickpea Stew is my Go-To Crowd Pleaser (Patreon)

The cars have disappeared. The deck is buried. The highways are closed.

I’m currently in a cabin in South Lake Tahoe with a dozen adults and thirteen kids. We’ve just been covered in three feet of snow, with another two feet on the forecast over the next couple of days. Luckily, the pantry and fridge are full, we’ve got a stack of board games and three guitars, spirits are high, and everyone here loves a good meal.

This annual ski trip has always been one of my favorite traditions. It started when we were in our twenties—before careers, before kids, before we needed to coordinate school calendars and pack extra pull-ups. Over the years, it has evolved as we’ve grown, moved cities and coasts, partnered up, and added kids.

What hasn’t changed is the dinner plans.

Each family takes a night to cook for the entire house. That means feeding twenty-five people out of one kitchen, one range, and whatever random assortment of pots and pans the rental happens to provide.

This year is the first time I can remember that the group came with zero dietary restrictions (typically we have a mix of vegans, vegetarians, and omnivores). Given that freedom, Tessa and I decided to make my Texas-style chile con carne and frijoles charros (made with leftover slow-roasted pork from Jimmy and Lam's meal the night before), my brown-butter cornbread, and a carrot cake. It was hearty and warming.

But the dish that always comes to mind when I’m on these trips isn’t the chili.

It’s the garbanzo and spinach stew from my first book, The Food Lab.

When Good Enough is Perfect

Years ago, when I worked at Toro, Ken Oringer’s Spanish tapas bar in Boston, we made a more elaborate version of this dish. We built vegetable stock from scratch. Soaked dried chickpeas overnight. Used fresh tomatoes. Sometimes added chorizo. Sometimes finished with a poached egg.

It was a proper restaurant preparation: delicious, layered, and more than a little fussy.

The version I’ve been making for friends and family ever since is vastly stripped down, built mostly from canned goods. Once you’ve gathered your ingredients, chopped an onion, and smashed a few cloves of garlic, it takes only about 15 minutes of real work. After that, it’s slow, gentle simmering while you mix up a salad, bake some bread, or referee a debate about whether Bananagrams counts as a “word game.”

Not only that, but it’s one thing I can cook for a big mixed group—omnivores, vegetarians, vegans, picky kids—and know that the pot will be scraped clean.

There are very few dishes that check all those boxes. This is one of them.

Here’s how I make it.

The Case for Cooking with Extra-Virgin Olive Oil

This stew is not shy about olive oil. In fact, it depends on it.

A good extra-virgin olive oil brings fruitiness, bitterness, and a peppery finish that defines the flavor of the dish.

There’s a persistent myth that extra-virgin olive oil shouldn’t be used for cooking because heat can destroy some of its more delicate flavors. That’s true to an extent. But there are a couple important things to consider.

First: when you’re sweating vegetables (like the onions and garlic in this recipe) the water content of those vegetables regulates the temperature of the pot, preventing the oil from heating much beyond the boiling point of water. You’re not scorching oil in a dry pan. You’re gently stewing.

Second: even if the olive oil loses some aroma during cooking, there’s still plenty of flavor left in the finished stew. And by layering it—starting with a generous pour and finishing with another drizzle—you reinforce its presence in the final dish.

Any great olive oil will do. I personally have been using this excellent Greek oil imported by my old friend Damian Primis.

Simmer Down Now

As the onions and garlic soften in the olive oil, I combine half a can of whole peeled tomatoes with a knob of ginger in a blender and blend the mixture until smooth. Meanwhile, I chop the remaining tomatoes into chunky pieces (a pair of shears directly in the can works). The blended portion gives the stew body and silkiness. The chopped portion gives it texture and bite.

Once the onions are just on the verge of starting to brown, I add a generous amount of Spanish smoked paprika (sweet or hot will both work, depending on how spicy you like the finished dish), letting it bloom and stain the olive oil red before stirring in the tomatoes and a couple of cans of chickpeas along with their liquid (that liquid—the aquafaba—is great for thickening and adding body to the stew as it simmers).

Finally, I stir in a few big handfuls of spinach. The goal here is not bright-green, barely-wilted spinach greens. This spinach is going to cook down with the stew for a good 45 minutes at least, until it becomes meltingly tender and silken-textured. (If you want something a little heartier, any good braising greens—kale, collards, chard, etc.—will work.)

After that, it's just a matter of waiting. I suggest a couple rounds of Bananagrams and perhaps a little Simon and Garfunkel by the fireplace.

Just before serving, I brighten the whole thing up with a splash of vinegar (sherry is my favorite for this, but cider, white wine, or others will work) and a final drizzle of that good olive oil.

Take It or Leaf It

As you've probably noticed from watching me cook over the years, I write my recipes as exactingly as possible, but I rarely follow them when I cook, instead relying on my senses to tell me when something is done or if some flavors need adjusting.

When I cook this recipe for 25 people, I never measure anything. Instead, I grab an equal number of cans of tomatoes and chickpeas. I pour in my olive oil generously. I dice as many onions as I think look right and add as many greens as fit in the pot. Then I simmer until it tastes good.

That’s the power of structure over precision.

Recipe: Spinach and Chickpea Stew

Every recipe I publish here is personally tested, tasted, and approved.

What I love about this recipe:

Pantry-based with just one bunch of greens

Deep flavor from olive oil and smoked paprika

Vegan but deeply satisfying

Scales cleanly for crowds

Yield: 4–6 servingsActive Time: 15–20 minutesTotal Time: 45–60 minutesNotes: This recipe can be easily doubled or tripled. You can use other greens in place of the spinach.

Ingredients

For the stew:

1 (28-ounce / 800 g) can whole peeled tomatoes

1 (2-inch / 30g) piece fresh ginger, sliced into 6–8 thin coins

1/4 to 1/3 cup (60–80 ml) extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for finishing

1 large yellow onion (about 10 ounces / 280 g), diced

3–4 medium cloves garlic, minced

2 (15-ounce / 425 g each) cans chickpeas, with their liquid

1 tablespoon (about 6g) sweet smoked paprika (or hot smoked paprika)

2 dried bay leaves

6–12 ounces (170–340 g) spinach or other braising greens

Kosher salt

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon (1–2 g) MSG (optional but recommended)

To finish:

1–2 teaspoons (5–10 ml) sherry vinegar, Banyuls vinegar, cider vinegar, or white wine vinegar

More excellent extra-virgin olive oil

For serving:

Crusty bread or warm pita

Method

Pour about half the canned tomatoes and most of their juices into a blender. Add the ginger. Blend until smooth. Roughly chop the remaining tomatoes in the can so you have both puree and chunks.

Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add onion and garlic. Season with salt and a pinch of MSG. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent but not browned, about 6–8 minutes. Stir in smoked paprika and cook just until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Pour in the blended tomato mixture and chopped tomatoes and bring to a simmer.

Add spinach (or other greens). If using a large quantity, add in batches, letting each addition wilt before adding more. Stir in chickpeas with their liquid and add bay leaves. Bring to a gentle simmer. Cook, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until reduced to a thick, stew-like consistency, about 45 minutes.

Remove bay leaves. Taste and adjust seasoning with more salt and MSG if needed. Stir in vinegar to brighten. Finish with a generous drizzle of your best olive oil. Serve hot with crusty bread or pita.