Mulligan Stew

In Memoriam: Carlos Dominguez, Friend, pack member, and apprentice.

Mornings in the Mid-Hudson valley are getting crisp. I see hints of frost on the grass; all this tells me that stew weather is coming. There’s something primal about the urge to gather ingredients into a single pot when the air turns cold—that ancient instinct to create warmth, sustenance, and comfort from whatever we have on hand.

A stew, at its essence, is democracy in a pot. It’s the great equalizer of ingredients, where humble root vegetables stand shoulder-to-shoulder with precious cuts of meat, where yesterday’s leftovers transform into tomorrow’s feast. Unlike the precise choreography of sautéing or the temperamental art of soufflé-making, stew-making embraces chaos and improvisation. It rewards the bold and forgives the uncertain.

But no stew embodies this spirit quite like Mulligan Stew—a dish born not in the grand kitchens of châteaux or the test kitchens of culinary schools, but around campfires and in hobo camps across Depression-era America. The name itself carries multiple origin stories, each as scrappy as the dish. Some say it honors a resourceful Irish cook named Mulligan who could conjure a meal from scraps. Others claim it emerged from the “mulligan” of golf—that do-over shot that gives you a second chance, much like this stew gave struggling families a second chance at a proper meal.

The true genius of Mulligan Stew lies in its economics of scarcity. During the Great Depression, when a nickel meant the difference between eating and going hungry, this dish became a masterclass in stretching ingredients. Hobo camps—those temporary communities of displaced workers riding the rails—elevated Mulligan Stew to an art form. Everyone contributed what they could: a potato here, a carrot there, perhaps a precious onion or a bone with some meat still clinging to it. The communal pot became a symbol of shared survival. Individual contributions, no matter how small, created something greater than the sum of its parts.

From a culinary perspective, Mulligan Stew inverts traditional cooking hierarchies. In classical cuisine, we start with a base—a mirepoix, perhaps—and build flavors methodically. Mulligan Stew takes a different approach entirely. It’s pure pragmatism: whatever protein you can afford, whatever vegetables won’t spoil, whatever bones and tough cuts might yield precious collagen.

Here’s where necessity became brilliance. Those cheap, collagen-rich cuts that wealthy cooks discarded—chuck, round, brisket, and the off cuts from other butchering—became the foundation of satisfaction. During long, slow simmering, that collagen breaks down into gelatin, creating a luxurious mouthfeel that tricks your body into feeling truly satiated. It’s the difference between thin, watery broth that leaves you hungry an hour later and the rich, body-warming stew that stays with you. The beauty emerges not from expensive ingredients but from time, heat, and understanding how tough connective tissue transforms into pure comfort. Hunger, it turns out, might just be the most honest chef of all.

Mulligan Stew

Full of tender beef, hearty veggies, in a savory gravy
Prep Time 20 minutes
Cook Time 2 hours
Servings: 4
Course: Dinner, Main Course, Stew
Cuisine: American, British
Calories: 663

Ingredients
  

  • 2 tbsp Olive oil Basic stuff
  • 2 lb Chuck Roast Trimmed, and cubed to bite size
  • 1 Ea Onion Medium, Diced
  • 4 cloves Garlic Peeled, minced
  • 1/3 Cup AP Flour
  • 1 Bottle Good Beer Guinness, in this case
  • 1 ea Bay Leaf
  • 1 tsp Thyme Dried
  • 1/2 lb Mushrooms Washed, Cubed to bite size, (optional)
  • Salt and Pepper To Taste
  • 2 tsp Worcestershire Sauce
  • 3 Cups Beef Stock Make your own, or use low sodium, high quality stock (demiglace)
  • 1 bag Frozen Mixed Veg corn, carrots, peas and green beans
  • 2 med Yukon gold potatoes Peeled / Cubed

Equipment

  • 1 Heavy Bottom Stock Pot / Roaster

Method
 

  1. Season and flour the beef
  2. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large stockpot / heavy bottom roaster over high heat
  3. Add half of the beef to the pan and sear, flipping the meat once it has developed a good brown sear on the bottom, then repeating on multiple sides. Transfer the beef to a clean plate.
  4. Add an additional one tablespoon of oil to the pot, add the remaining beef, sear, and transfer to a clean plate.
  5. Reduce heat to medium-high and add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the stockpot.
  6. Add onion and mushrooms (if used), and sauté for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Looking for a decent color on the onions and very little moisture from the mushrooms.
  7. Add garlic and sauté for 1 minute, stirring occasionally.
  8. Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring frequently.
  9. Pour in the Guinness and use a wooden spoon to scrape the bottom of the pan to lift the fond.
  10. Stir in the beef stock, frozen veg, bay leaf, Worcestershire, dried thyme, and the cooked beef (along with any of its accumulated juices).
  11. Cover the pot and simmer on low for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally, until the beef is tender and the potatoes are soft.
  12. Remove the bay leaf, taste, season, and balance the flavor.

Nutrition

Calories: 663kcalCarbohydrates: 36gProtein: 53gFat: 35gSaturated Fat: 13gPolyunsaturated Fat: 3gMonounsaturated Fat: 19gTrans Fat: 2gCholesterol: 156mgSodium: 843mgPotassium: 1971mgFiber: 4gSugar: 6gVitamin A: 374IUVitamin C: 16mgCalcium: 110mgIron: 8mg

Notes

Some variations:
Use bacon drippings in place of olive oil (no bacon fond, just the clear drippings)
Add additional vegetables, such as parsnips and peas, etc.
Serving options:
I’ll always pair this with fresh bread and butter, accompanied by a bit of grated horseradish or minced jalapeno on the side.  I have been known to drizzle with vinegar from pickled peppers.
When dealing with leftovers, one can serve them over a mixed mash or a small pasta.

Tried this recipe?

Let us know how it was!

  Filed under: American, Autumn, Cheap, InstaPot, Slow Cook, Stew, Winter

Comments are closed for this post.