Let Me Tell You About This Soup (Pull Up a Chair)
You know those comfort foods that just scratch an itch you didn't even know you had? That's chicken noodle soup for me. Every time I make it, I get this flashback of being six, sitting in my grandmother's tiny kitchen (she had this wild wallpaper, honestly, it should've come with a warning), watching the pots bubble away. Actually, now that I think of it, her version always had way more parsley than was probably necessary—mine is a tad more restrained! Sometimes when I'm stirring, the smell makes me stop and just breathe for a second... anyone else do that, or is that just my nostalgia brain working overtime?
So, Why Are You Going to Love This?
I usually throw this together on days when everyone's about to come down with the sniffles—for some reason, I always have a sixth sense about it. My family goes a bit bananas for this soup because honestly, it's super soothing and, okay, it makes the house smell like you've actually got your life together (even if your laundry pile tells another story). Oh, and on more than one occasion, the noodles've stuck together, but no one ever complains (I always just call it “rustic” and hope for the best). My only real gripe? Chopping onions. Can someone invent goggles that actually work?!
The Ingredients (Plus Some Swaps and Cheeky Shortcuts)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil (though butter totally works if you want a richer flavor)
- 1 medium onion, diced (sometimes I just use half if the kids are around—less drama at the table)
- 2 carrots, sliced into rounds (my grandmother always insisted on peeling, I skip it half the time, shh...)
- 2 celery stalks, sliced (I swap for parsnip sometimes—no one notices except me)
- 3 cloves garlic, minced (or a squirt of that lazy garlic from a tube; don’t judge)
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh is lovely but, honestly, dried works just fine)
- ½ teaspoon dried oregano
- 1 bay leaf
- 8 cups chicken broth (homemade is best but carton stuff will absolutely do—Brand X if you care, I don't)
- 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or chopped (rotisserie chicken when I’m in a rush—lifesaver!)
- 2 cups egg noodles (sometimes I just break up spaghetti if I’m out, it's all carbs anyway)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving (optional; sometimes I forget it, it's no biggie)
How I Actually Make It (Not Always Picture-Perfect)
- Get a big pot (like, your biggest—trust me, this can splatter) and put it over medium heat. Pour in the oil, let it get warm, then toss in the onion, carrot, and celery. Stir it all around for about 5 minutes, until things are softening and starting to smell promising.
- Add the garlic, thyme, and oregano. Give it a stir for about 30 seconds—keep your nose over the pot if you want the full spa treatment.
- Throw in the bay leaf, then pour in all that chicken broth. Crank up the heat a smidge; bring it to a gentle boil (not a wild one, just a cheerful simmer).
- This is where I drop in the chicken. If it’s straight out of the fridge, don’t worry. It warms up in a jiffy. Season with salt and pepper now, or later, or whenever you remember.
- Tumble in the noodles and let ‘em cook. Usually about 7–10 minutes, but I start checking at 5 because overcooked noodles are not my jam. Stir now and then; this is where mine used to get all stuck together, until I learned to babysit the pot a bit.
- Once noodles are done, taste it (obligatory). Adjust salt and pepper—sometimes it honestly needs more than you think. Fish out the bay leaf (do NOT forget, it's like a game of 'find the hidden hazard').
- Ladle it into bowls. Sprinkle over some chopped parsley if you’re feeling fancy, or not. Grab a spoon and eat while it’s piping hot. Or, like my uncle, with a slice of bread for dipping.
Notes I Wish I'd Known at First
- If you don’t have cooked chicken, just toss in a couple of raw thighs or breasts at the broth stage; fish 'em out after 20 minutes, shred, then stick 'em back in.
- I used to throw in raw noodles at the start and wonder why everything turned to mush. Don’t do that. Add them near the end.
- Herbs: fresh vs. dried—it’s honestly a mood thing. Both work. My only rule: don’t go wild with rosemary, it'll take over.
Variations I'd Actually Vouch For (Mostly)
- Swap egg noodles for rice (I did this once and my niece insisted it was 'chicken noodle risotto'—okay, kid, sure)
- Add a splash of lemon juice or even some grated ginger if you want it peppier
- I tried zucchini noodles once; they went a bit gloopy—wouldn't totally recommend it, tbh
- Throw in frozen peas near the end—my backup when I’m feeling lazy
Equipment (or, How Much Do You Really Need?)
- Large soup pot (biggest you got works best, but I’ve MacGyvered it in a deep frying pan before in a pinch)
- Stirring spoon—wooden if you’ve got one, but anything that won’t melt will do
- Sharp knife for the chopping (but, hey, pre-cut veggies from the store if you want)
How to Store This (Ha! Good Luck)
Store leftovers (if you win the race) in an airtight container in the fridge—good for 3 days, but, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! Sometimes the noodles soak up all the broth if it sits, so add a splash of water when reheating if needed.
How We Like to Serve It (Spoiler: With Bread)
I always serve chicken noodle soup with a hunk of crusty bread—sourdough if I’m feeling posh, but frankly, plain old white bread does the trick. Occasionally, someone in the family insists on a squirt of hot sauce; I keep quiet and just reach for a little extra black pepper.
Pro Tips (AKA: Mistakes I No Longer Make...Usually)
- I once tried rushing the veggie sauté step—don’t. If you don’t give them time, everything tastes flat. Trust me, it’s worth the wait.
- Adding noodles too early? Just don’t. I did it once and ended up with chicken noodle porridge (which… isn’t a thing, or shouldn’t be).
- Taste and season at the end. I’ve gotten cocky with salt before; soup can be revived with water, but it's never as good as getting it right the first time.
FAQ (Because Friends Ask!)
Oh, and totally unrelated—but have you ever tried to clean out a soup pot while your cat's decided it's nap time right in your path? It's like an obstacle course I didn't sign up for every single time I make this. Anyway, hope you love this as much as we do!
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons olive oil (though butter totally works if you want a richer flavor)
- 1 medium onion, diced (sometimes I just use half if the kids are around—less drama at the table)
- 2 carrots, sliced into rounds (my grandmother always insisted on peeling, I skip it half the time, shh...)
- 2 celery stalks, sliced (I swap for parsnip sometimes—no one notices except me)
- 3 cloves garlic, minced (or a squirt of that lazy garlic from a tube; don’t judge)
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh is lovely but, honestly, dried works just fine)
- ½ teaspoon dried oregano
- 1 bay leaf
- 8 cups chicken broth (homemade is best but carton stuff will absolutely do—Brand X if you care, I don't)
- 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded or chopped (rotisserie chicken when I’m in a rush—lifesaver!)
- 2 cups egg noodles (sometimes I just break up spaghetti if I’m out, it's all carbs anyway)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving (optional; sometimes I forget it, it's no biggie)
Instructions
-
1Get a big pot (like, your biggest—trust me, this can splatter) and put it over medium heat. Pour in the oil, let it get warm, then toss in the onion, carrot, and celery. Stir it all around for about 5 minutes, until things are softening and starting to smell promising.
-
2Add the garlic, thyme, and oregano. Give it a stir for about 30 seconds—keep your nose over the pot if you want the full spa treatment.
-
3Throw in the bay leaf, then pour in all that chicken broth. Crank up the heat a smidge; bring it to a gentle boil (not a wild one, just a cheerful simmer).
-
4This is where I drop in the chicken. If it’s straight out of the fridge, don’t worry. It warms up in a jiffy. Season with salt and pepper now, or later, or whenever you remember.
-
5Tumble in the noodles and let ‘em cook. Usually about 7–10 minutes, but I start checking at 5 because overcooked noodles are not my jam. Stir now and then; this is where mine used to get all stuck together, until I learned to babysit the pot a bit.
-
6Once noodles are done, taste it (obligatory). Adjust salt and pepper—sometimes it honestly needs more than you think. Fish out the bay leaf (do NOT forget, it's like a game of 'find the hidden hazard').
-
7Ladle it into bowls. Sprinkle over some chopped parsley if you’re feeling fancy, or not. Grab a spoon and eat while it’s piping hot. Or, like my uncle, with a slice of bread for dipping.
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
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