Let Me Tell You About This Soup—And a Little Mishap

Okay so, imagine it’s chilly out, you’re half-done with your to-do list, and you’re craving something that’s basically a warm hug (minus the awkward arm tangle). That’s when I always find myself reaching for my old crockpot to throw together minestrone Soup. Truth be told, this recipe kind of saved my bacon during a soggy autumn a few years ago—I’d overbought celery and accidentally doubled up on canned beans. At first, I meant to toss together a quick vegetable thing, but it sort of snowballed into minestrone. And, well, it stuck. Funny how those kitchen “oops” moments become the ones you actually remember… unlike those socks that just disappear in the dryer. I still suspect my dog, by the way.

Why You’ll Kinda Love Making This

I make this when the weather’s gross, or when I know the day will run away from me. My family goes nuts for it, especially with extra parmesan (me, I could eat soup every day, rain or shine). Sometimes I make it vegan, sometimes I clean out the veggie drawer. Once, I tried using only fresh tomatoes—what a mess! But it actually tasted fine! Best thing? I just dump everything in and walk away. It’s forgiving like that, which is honestly more than I can say for soufflé.

Here’s What You’ll Need (And Don’t Panic – Substitutions Galore)

1 onion, diced (red, yellow, whatever’s in the basket—my aunt swears by Vidalia but I just use whatever)
3 cloves garlic, minced (jar garlic is totally fine, I won’t tell your Nonna)
2 carrots, sliced (sometimes I use baby carrots and chop ’em—nobody complains)
2 celery stalks, chopped (once used fennel bulb, wasn’t too shabby)
1 zucchini, diced (had some squash that worked in a pinch)
1 can (about 400g) diced tomatoes (crushed tomatoes work, too—I’ve even used passata, but it’s a bit runnier)
1 can (400g) kidney beans, rinsed (can’t find? I’ve used cannellini—no panic)
1 can (400g) white beans or chickpeas (pinto beans are fine if that’s what’s lurking in your pantry)
1 cup green beans, chopped (I use frozen a lot—defrost in the soup!)
1 ½ litres veggie broth (sometimes, I cheat and just use 2 stock cubes and hot water. Works.)
2 teaspoons dried Italian herbs (a little oregano and basil, or just whatever dried mix you grabbed last)
Salt, pepper to taste (I go heavy on the pepper)
1 cup small pasta (ditalini, macaroni, or honestly, any little shape. I once broke spaghetti into bits because I was out of everything else)

So, Here’s What To Do (Or, How I Make It On A Busy Day)

Chop All The Veggies: Like, not perfectly—just so they fit on a spoon. Dump them into your slow-cooker. Actually, I find it works better if I sauté onions and garlic first, but when I’m rushed? Straight in.
Add The Beans And Tomatoes: Rinse the beans quickly, then add to the slow cooker with tomatoes and zucchini and whatever else you’re using. It looks pretty grim at this stage, honestly. But hold your nerve!
Pour In The Broth: Just pour in enough to cover everything. Sometimes it looks like too much, but the pasta later soaks it up anyway.
Stir In The Herbs, Salt, and Pepper: Here’s where I sneak a little taste—if it seems bland, add a little more salt (I’m always too cautious).
Let ‘er Cook: Set on low for 6 hours, or high for about 3–4. Sometimes I check halfway, but mostly I walk away until it smells so good that it’s distracting me from whatever ridiculous email I’m reading then.
Pasta Time: Add the pasta in the last 30ish minutes—any sooner and it’ll get bloated and limp. I’ve made this mistake more than once, so trust me. If you totally forget (been there), cook pasta separately and chuck it in at the end.
Taste & Adjust: Maybe more salt or pepper. Or a splash of lemon juice if you feel fancy.

Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me (Seriously)

The pasta soaks up way more liquid than you expect. I add extra broth if I’ve got it, or just offer some crusty bread to soak it up (win-win).
If you give it a little rest after cooking, flavors mingle and it gets even better. Sometimes I just leave the lid cracked for a bit while I chase down stray socks (see above).
I used to throw in spinach at the start, but now I add it right at the end so it doesn’t vanish into mush. Rookie mistake!

Variations That Worked…and Some That Really Didn’t

No Pasta: Sometimes I leave the pasta out, especially if someone’s gluten free. Tastes just as hearty.
Carnivore Mode: My partner sometimes sneaks in diced cooked ham or leftover chicken. Not traditional, but it gets wolfed down anyway. Once tried sausage, but it overpowered everything for my taste.
Spicy Version: A little chili flake is magic if you like heat.
Avoid: I’d skip raw potatoes—they ended up a little weirdly chalky. Lesson learned.

Do You Actually Need Gadget X?

Obviously, a slow cooker is handy—I use an ancient one that makes weird ticking sounds but hasn’t failed yet. If you don’t have one, you can totally make this on the stove: just simmer everything gently in a big ol’ pot, and keep an eye out so nothing sticks. But if you’re looking for a good crockpot, I do like these recommendations from Serious Eats; I went rogue and bought mine secondhand, though. Whatever works.

How I Store It (If It Lasts That Long)

Technically, you should refrigerate leftovers in a lidded container, and eat them within 2–3 days. Actually, in my house, it never lasts more than a day. But I find the soup thickens overnight, so sometimes I add a splash of water to loosen it up before reheating. And if by some miracle you have leftovers, this freezes like a dream. Just leave the pasta out, or it gets all mushy.

How We Serve It—And Little Traditions

At our table, bowls of minestrone always come with a heap of grated parmesan (or that pre-grated stuff in a tub—no judgment) and sometimes a sprinkle of chili flakes. And someone almost always demands slices of crusty bread. I mean, what’s soup without bread?

Pro Tips Learned the Hard Way

I once tried rushing the pasta step—just stashed it in at the start. It ballooned up into pasta pudding. Not my finest hour.
Seasoning goes a long way. I used to go too light, but it’s much bolder if you’re a little generous with salt and herbs.
If you’re subbing in different veggies, cut them to about the same size (tiny dices disappear, big lumps stay rock solid—go for in-between).
This is the kind of soup that’s handy for meal prep, and I sometimes read The Kitchn’s helpful guide to freezing soup so I don’t botch it.

Questions I’ve Actually Been Asked (And a Few I Wish Someone Had)

“Can I use frozen veggies?”
Of course. I probably use frozen green beans more than fresh. Don’t sweat it.

“Will it work without beans?”
Yes, but you’ll lose a lot of the classic minestrone vibe. Maybe bulk up on extra veggies or pasta.

“Do I have to soak the beans first?”
If you’re using canned? Nope! For dried, you really should soak and pre-cook unless you want crunchy surprise soup.

“How can I make it vegan?”
Skip the cheese garnish, use veggie broth—done deal.

“Pasta on the side or in the pot?”
I vote in the pot, but if you want leftovers to freeze, keep it separate. Otherwise, it turns into a weirdly delicious stew next day.

“Can I double this for a crowd?”
Probably, but watch the max-fill on your crockpot. Overflow is not fun to clean, trust me, learned that the sticky way.

Let me know if you make this! And if your family has weird minestrone traditions, I want to hear them—seriously, email me or leave a comment below. We can swap stories about missing socks, too.

Crockpot Minestrone Soup Made Easy (With Real-Life Tips!)