Late 2018 was a weird time for the internet. We were all obsessed with specific, singular things. Then came the "The Stew." Officially, it’s the Spiced Chickpea Stew with Coconut and Turmeric, a recipe by Alison Roman that first appeared in The New York Times. But nobody called it that. Within weeks, it was just a hashtag.
It was everywhere.
You couldn't scroll through Instagram without seeing that specific shade of lurid, golden-yellow liquid topped with a dollop of yogurt and a sprinkle of mint. It looked like a sunset in a bowl. But behind the aesthetic, there’s a lot of noise. People argue about whether it’s actually a stew. People argue about the cultural roots. Honestly, even after all these years, it remains one of the most polarizing "easy" dinners ever conceived.
Why Alison Roman Chickpea Stew Still Matters
The staying power of this dish isn't just about the flavor. It's about a shift in how we cook. Before this, "viral recipes" weren't really a thing in the way they are now. Roman managed to hit a sweet spot: it was vegan (mostly), gluten-free, and used stuff you probably already had in your pantry. Canned chickpeas? Check. Turmeric that’s been sitting there since 2016? Check.
But there’s a reason it stuck around while other trends faded. It’s flexible. You can mess it up and it still tastes pretty good. You can forget the mint, swap the kale for spinach, or use one can of coconut milk instead of two. It’s "lifestyle" cooking at its most aggressive—the kind of food that makes you feel like a functional adult without requiring you to actually chop that much.
The Great "Curry" Debate
We have to talk about the elephant in the room. When the recipe first dropped, Roman didn't call it a curry. She called it a stew. This sparked a massive conversation about cultural appropriation and the "whitewashing" of traditional flavors. Critics pointed out that the ingredients—turmeric, ginger, garlic, coconut milk, chickpeas—are the literal building blocks of many South Asian and Caribbean dishes.
To some, calling it a "stew" felt like a way to make "ethnic" food more palatable to a white, middle-class audience. It was a heated moment. The New York Times eventually updated the recipe headnote to acknowledge that the dish "evokes South Indian chana and some stews found in parts of the Caribbean." It was a lesson in how food media handles (or mishandles) heritage.
The Technical Reality: Is It Actually Good?
If you follow the recipe exactly, you might be disappointed. I’m being serious.
One of the biggest complaints from seasoned home cooks is that it can be a bit... one-note. The original calls for 1.5 teaspoons of turmeric. That’s a lot of yellow, but not necessarily a lot of depth. Many people found they had to double the aromatics—more ginger, more garlic—to get the punch they were looking for.
And then there’s the coconut milk. Two cans of full-fat coconut milk is a lot. It makes the dish incredibly rich, almost heavy. If you aren't careful, you end up with a bowl of golden fat rather than a balanced meal. This is where the "personal journey" part of the recipe comes in.
Tips for a Better Batch
- The Sizzle: Do not rush the chickpea frying. You want them to actually brown and crisp in the oil before you add the liquid. If they just sit there and boil, the texture is mush.
- The Acid: The original recipe is desperate for lime. The fat from the coconut milk needs something to cut through it. Squeeze a whole lime over the pot at the end. Don't skip it.
- The Greens: Use lacinato kale (the flat, dark green stuff) or Swiss chard. Standard curly kale can feel a bit like eating a loofah if it doesn't simmer long enough.
- The Mash: Smash about a third of the chickpeas against the side of the pot with your spoon. This releases the starch and makes the broth creamy without needing even more oil.
Beyond the Viral Moment
What’s interesting is how this recipe changed Alison Roman’s career. It moved her from "cookbook author" to "culinary celebrity." It also set the stage for her later controversies and her eventual move to a more independent platform. It proved that a recipe doesn't have to be groundbreaking to be successful; it just has to be shareable.
The Alison Roman chickpea stew became a symbol of a specific type of Brooklyn-centric, "cool girl" cooking. It was effortless but intentional. Messy but photogenic. It was the food equivalent of a "no-makeup" makeup look.
How to Make It Your Own
If you’re going to make this tonight, don't feel beholden to the NYT comments section. Some people add red curry paste. Others throw in a dash of fish sauce for umami (obviously not vegan, but effective).
The real magic of the stew is that it’s a template. It’s a way to use up that half-bunch of cilantro or that bag of frozen spinach. It’s a reminder that dinner doesn't always have to be a project. Sometimes, it can just be a big, yellow, comforting mess in a bowl.
To get started, make sure you have high-quality coconut milk—something without too many stabilizers, so it actually incorporates into the broth. Get your aromatics prepped before the oil hits the pan. If you want that iconic look, save a handful of the crisped chickpeas to sprinkle on top right before serving; otherwise, they’ll just get soft once the lid goes on.
Once you’ve mastered the base, try swapping the chickpeas for white beans or adding a spoonful of harissa for a different kind of heat. The recipe has survived the 2018 hype cycle because it works as a foundation for whatever is in your fridge. Stop worrying about whether it’s "authentic" and just focus on whether it’s seasoned enough. Usually, it needs more salt than you think.