A one-pot supper that earns its place in the rotation

Every kitchen needs a handful of recipes that can be made on autopilot, taste better the next day, and quietly fill the freezer without any fuss. This vegetarian chilli is one of those. It is deeply smoky rather than fiery, thick enough to sit on a tortilla without running off, and built almost entirely from tins and store-cupboard staples — which means you can decide to make it at half past five and still be eating by seven.

It also happens to be genuinely economical. Two tins of beans and two of tomatoes will feed six people generously, and the leftovers are arguably better than the first sitting. I make a batch most weeks through autumn and winter, and it has never once felt like a compromise version of the meaty original.

What goes in, and why

The flavour here comes from layering, not from heat. Smoked paprika gives that campfire depth, ground cumin and coriander add warmth, and a small amount of dark chocolate or cocoa stirred in at the end rounds off the acidity of the tomatoes. That last trick is the one people always ask about.

For six generous portions you will need:

• 2 tbsp olive oil, plus a knob of butter if you have it
• 2 large onions, finely chopped
• 3 peppers — a mix of red, yellow and orange looks best — cut into 2cm pieces
• 4 garlic cloves, crushed
• 2 tsp smoked paprika, 2 tsp ground cumin, 1 tsp ground coriander, 1 tsp dried oregano
• 1 tsp chipotle paste, or 1 tsp dried chilli flakes, or both if you like a kick
• 2 tbsp tomato purée
• 2 x 400g tins chopped tomatoes
• 2 x 400g tins beans, drained and rinsed — kidney, black and pinto all work well, so mix them if you like
• 300ml vegetable stock
• 1 tsp yeast extract, 1 tbsp soy sauce, 1 tbsp cocoa powder or a square of dark chocolate
• Salt and black pepper

If you have a lonely courgette, a tired aubergine or a handful of mushrooms in the drawer, chop them in with the peppers. This is a forgiving recipe, not a precise one.

The method, start to finish

• Soften the base. Heat the oil in a large heavy-based casserole or deep saucepan over a medium heat. Add the onions with a good pinch of salt and cook for 8–10 minutes until soft and translucent, stirring now and then so they do not catch.
• Add the peppers. Tip them in and cook for another 6–8 minutes. You want them softened but still holding their shape — they will carry on cooking later.
• Bloom the spices. Stir in the garlic, all the dried spices, the oregano and the chipotle paste. Cook for a full minute, until the whole kitchen smells like a spice market. Do not rush this step; raw spices taste dusty.
• Build the sauce. Add the tomato purée, stir it through for 30 seconds, then pour in the chopped tomatoes and stock. Add the yeast extract and soy sauce, season well, and bring to a gentle simmer.
• Simmer and thicken. Cover partially and cook for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Then add the beans and cook uncovered for a further 15–20 minutes, until the sauce is thick enough to hold a spoon upright and the peppers are completely tender.
• Finish. Stir in the cocoa or chocolate, taste, and adjust. You will almost certainly want more salt, and possibly a squeeze of lime or a splash of vinegar if the tomatoes taste sharp. Rest off the heat for 10 minutes before serving.

Toppings worth the effort

Chilli is a vehicle for cold, creamy things on top of hot, spicy things. Sour cream or thick yoghurt, sliced spring onions, chopped fresh coriander, pickled red onions, crumbled feta, diced avocado, and a scatter of crushed tortilla chips will all do the job. A little grated mature cheddar melted over the top under a hot grill is a fine direction too, though it pushes things towards a nacho supper rather than a chilli one.

How to serve it through the week

On the first night, I want it over fluffy long-grain rice with a spoonful of sour cream. On the second, it goes into warm tortillas with shredded lettuce and a squeeze of lime. On the third, it becomes a jacket potato filling, or a bowl of soup loosened with a little extra stock. Served with a thick slice of buttered crusty bread, it makes one of the most satisfying cheap lunches going — take it to work in a flask and you will be the envy of the staff room.

For a slightly more restaurant-inspired table, spoon it into shallow bowls, add a swirl of soured cream, a dusting of smoked paprika and a few coriander leaves, and serve with warm flatbreads and a sharp, vinegary green salad on the side.

Freezing, batch cooking and small tweaks

This freezes beautifully. Cool it completely, portion into containers — I use about 400ml per person — and freeze for up to three months. It keeps in the fridge for four days, and improves overnight as the spices settle.

To reheat, defrost overnight in the fridge if you can, then warm gently in a pan with a splash of water. From frozen, tip into a saucepan with 100ml water, cover, and heat slowly, stirring to stop it catching.

A few variations worth knowing: add a tin of drained sweetcorn in the last five minutes for sweetness; swap 200g of the beans for a tin of green lentils for a softer texture; or stir through a handful of spinach at the end until it wilts. Once you have made it twice, you will stop measuring the spices altogether — which is exactly how a good house recipe should end up.