So Here’s the Story About Lentil Mushroom Stroganoff (Pull Up a Chair)

If you’ve ever found yourself with a craving for something super hearty—but, you know, not wanting to unbutton your jeans straight after—you’re in good company. This Lentil Mushroom Stroganoff is exactly that kinda dish. The first time I made it was one damp Tuesday that smelled like rain (I remember, because my dog walked muddy footprints straight into the kitchen mid-prep). Ever since, it’s been my rainy weather go-to comfort food—I mean, why not?

Funny thing—I used to think stroganoff was some big, intimidating, fancy-pants dinner you only order at old-school restaurants. Turns out, it’s just as happy bubbling away on a cluttery home stove. And way more affordable with lentils and mushrooms. That first time was a bit of a mess—never knew how much paprika I actually put in—but hey, my neighbor popped by for a taste and still asks about it every time the weather turns grey.

Why You’ll Probably Love This (At Least I Do)

I make this when I want food that hugs back. My family goes wild for it (well...not my youngest, but he also eats ketchup on cereal, so take that as you will). There’s something about mushrooms and lentils all cozied up in a creamy, dreamy sauce that makes everyone wander into the kitchen to see what’s up. (And yes, I make this a touch more than I probably should—but that’s only ‘cause the leftovers are actually even better the next day. One of those magic bean-dishes.)

I’ve even made it after a long, tired day when the thought of standing in the kitchen would make anyone groan; somehow, it’s still do-able. Plus, you can make it vegan, or dairy, or whatever-you-feel. Seriously, throw on sweatpants, crank up some tunes, and go for it.

What You’ll Need (Or What I End Up Using)

2 tablespoons olive oil (or butter; or the dregs of that random oil bottle—no one’s judging)
1 large onion, diced (red or yellow; I once used a shallot mix and it was fab, just more fiddly)
3 garlic cloves, minced (but who’s counting, really)
300g mushrooms, sliced (cremini, button, shiitake—sometimes I mix ‘em if I’m feeling fancy)
1 cup dried brown or green lentils, rinsed (I sometimes use canned in a pinch, just drain ‘em first)
3 cups veg broth (homemade, bouillon magic, or straight up, whatever’s on hand will work)
1 tablespoon tomato paste (sometimes I just squeeze whatever’s left in the tube, it’s fine)
1 teaspoon smoked paprika (my gran always insisted on Hungarian, but honestly, it’s fine if you don’t have—that smoked Spanish stuff rocks too)
1 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh is awesome if you have it, but I’m not fussed)
1 tablespoon soy sauce or tamari (for umami oomph)
Salt and black pepper, to taste (lots, little, your call)
½ cup plant cream (like oat or cashew), or sour cream (dairy or non-dairy, both totally work)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard (this is optional, but I swear it wakes the whole thing up)
Chopped parsley, to serve (or not—sometimes I run out and use nothing, still tastes amazing)

How To Make It (More or Less, With My Little Twists)

Chuck the olive oil in a biggish frying pan or pot over medium heat. Once it’s thinking about shimmering, slide in your onions and a good pinch of salt. Let ‘em hang for 5–6 minutes—don’t rush it, this is where they get sweet and soft. Stir them every now and then (or more often if you’re antsy, like me).
Toss in garlic. Let it do its thing for 1 minute—careful not to burn it, unless you like the taste of regret.
Add the mushrooms. There’s always a wild moment when it looks like you crammed in way too many, but trust me, they shrink down. Give them 8–10 minutes; I like when they get a bit golden and let go of their water (I usually sneak a taste right here, for science).
Now, stir in the tomato paste, smoked paprika, thyme, and lentils. Let it kind of coat everything nicely—should smell pretty great now.
Pour in your veg broth and soy sauce. Give it a good stir, bring to a little simmer, put a lid on it, and let it go for about 25–30 minutes. You want the lentils to be tender, not mushy (but if they are, you’ve made soup! Still tasty, to be fair).
Open the lid, check the lentils. Maybe throw in a splash more broth if it’s gone a bit dry. This is where I get distracted and sometimes add too much water. You live, you learn.
Take off the heat, and swirl in your plant cream and Dijon mustard. Key moment! Don’t boil it, or it’ll get weird and splitty. Just enough to warm through.
Give it a taste. More salt? Pepper? Go wild. Scatter parsley over the top if you remembered to buy some (I usually don’t, tbh).

Some Notes from the School of Hard Knocks (aka My Kitchen)

Lentils: Red lentils get mushy—a little too quick to the finish line for me. Brown or green hang in a bit better.
Mushrooms: You get deeper flavor if you let the mushrooms brown, don’t rush. Early days, I did, and it was, eh…fine, but not great.
Broth: Once I used water plus a few splashes of soy and miso. Honestly, no one noticed, so don’t stress.
If your sauce gets too thick, a splash of oat milk legit brings it back.

What Else Have I Tried (And Did It Actually Work?)

Chucking in a handful of spinach right at the end—ace. Nice bit of green and sneaky vitamins.
Roasting the mushrooms first—meh, too much work for minimal wow, but maybe you love faff.
One time, I tried jackfruit instead of mushrooms. Oddly stringy (wouldn’t rush to try it again unless you’re feeling brave).

Gear You’ll Need (But Don’t Sweat It If You Don’t Have Everything)

Big frying pan or a heavy pot (Dutch oven is dreamy, but don’t go out and buy one just for this—I sometimes use a deep saucepan and it’s fine)
A wooden spoon, or spatula, or honestly, even a regular spoon will do (just make sure it’s not plastic if you’re heavy-handed like me)
A decent knife—doesn’t have to be chef-worthy (I still use the same slightly dull one form my uni days)

Keeping Leftovers (If You Have Any!)

It’ll keep fine in the fridge, sealed up, for 3 days, maybe even 4 if you trust your nose. Actually, I think it tastes even better after a night. Just, you know, in my house, leftovers last about as long as a snowball in a greenhouse. To reheat, just warm gently on the stove or even in the microwave but stop before it boils or the sauce can split a bit.

How I Like to Serve It (But You Do You)

We’re a wide-egg-noodle house, but mashed potatoes are the other move on blustery nights. I’ve even served it on toast for lunch—it’s sort of like posh beans on toast but with more bragging rights. Sometimes a big blob of sour cream on top (plant or dairy) and a sprinkle of chives, if I’m feeling like I have it all together (rare, tbh).

Pro Tips I Seriously Learned the Hard Way

I once dumped the cream in boiling hot. Split city. So, slow and steady if you want it silky.
Scrape the pan bottom! Those browned bits = joy, not burnt stragglers. Learned that after my first attempt, which, well, had...crunchy surprises.
Taste as you go! It always needs more salt than I think.

FAQ (Because People Always Ask Me These Bits)

Can I freeze this? You can! But, I’ll be honest, the texture gets a little odd—I still eat it, but not everyone’s into that. Defrost in the fridge and reheat slow.

What’s the best mushroom? The ones you have (but if you want to go all-in, try a mix—shiitake gives fancy vibes, just sayin’).

Can I make this gluten-free? Yes, just swap the soy sauce for tamari. And serve with GF noodles or rice. Easy as pie.

Where’d you get your inspiration? Half internet, half fridge clean-out, and a little from Serious Eats’s vegan version. Oh, and I always check Nisha’s Rainbow Plant Life blog for stroganoff ideas. Both are fab if you want to compare notes!

And if you made it this far, you deserve a big bowl—maybe even seconds. Let me know what you tweak! (And yes, that was totally a stray cat meowing just now. Distracted? Moi?)

Lentil Mushroom Stroganoff