Let's Talk Marry Me Chicken Soup

Listen. If you show up cold and hungry at my front door, there’s a 60% chance I’ll offer you this Marry Me Chicken Soup before you even sit down. The first time I made it, I sort of threw it together on a whim—honestly because I ran out of pasta for the original Marry Me Chicken, and soup just seemed easier at the time. Well, joke’s on me. Now my family begs for this version, and (not to brag, but) I’ve been told it’s dangerously craveable. A friend actually called it “proposal soup.” I take zero responsibility for any major life events that might happen if you serve this to someone you fancy.

So, let's dive in while my brain is still mostly focused on soup and not drifting to the pile of dishes in the sink. You ready?

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

I make this when my day’s been a bit of a trainwreck and I want a dinner that feels like a hug (only without the awkward arm angle). My partner? He says it's "the soup that convinced me to stop buying canned stuff," which I think is about as glowing as reviews get. Kids go mad for it, too—though they usually pick out the mushrooms like it’s Olympic sport. (If you don’t love mushrooms, I totally get it; we’ll chat about options below.)

Anyway, I used to hate the idea of browning chicken before making soup. Seems fussy, but now I think it makes a world of difference, taste-wise. Who knew?

Here's My Usual Lineup: Ingredients

2 large chicken breasts (sometimes I swap in thighs—they're juicier, but messy to shred, just FYI)
Olive oil—just enough to coat the pot (granny swore by Bertolli, but any basic olive oil works if you ask me)
1 medium yellow onion, chopped (or a handful of shallots if you’ve run out—honestly I can never tell the diff’ in soup)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced (out of fresh? Powder’s fine. I do this all the time)
1 cup sliced mushrooms (leave out if you want, or sub with a handful of chopped spinach, which is what I do when the kids get picky)
1 red bell pepper, diced (orange or yellow, too—whatever’s lurking in the veggie drawer)
5 cups chicken stock (boxed is fine—my secret: I sometimes use 3 cups stock, 2 cups water and a bouillon cube when I’m running low)
⅔ cup heavy cream (or whole milk in a pinch—makes it lighter, but you lose some richness, just sayin’)
⅓ cup sun-dried tomatoes, roughly chopped (the jarred ones in olive oil are what I grab; dry-packed are fine but need a soak)
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning (or wing it: pinch of dried oregano, basil, and thyme)
Salt and black pepper, to taste (add as you go, not at the beginning—I've oversalted more than once…oops.)
Fresh basil, for serving (totally optional, but pretty)
Crushed red pepper flakes (if you want a wallop)

So, What Now? Directions (Just How I Do It)

Grab your big soup pot (I use my beloved Dutch oven even though technically any old pot will do—see below for hacks).
Splash in a good bit of olive oil, then toss in those chicken breasts over medium-high heat. Brown them on both sides—about 3 minutes per side—just enough so they look a little golden (not cooked through, that happens later). If things stick, don’t panic! Scraping the bits off with a wooden spoon is half the fun. Remove chicken and set aside.
In the same pot, throw in chopped onions, garlic, mushrooms, and bell peppers. Stir and cook about 5 minutes till they get tender and things start smelling like you know what you’re doing. Don’t worry if the mushrooms seem weirdly slimy at first; they cook down (I promise).
Now add your sun-dried tomatoes and Italian seasoning. Stir it up, and pour in the chicken stock. Scrape the bottom; those browned bits turn the broth epic. Slide the browned chicken back in, including any juices.
Bring to a gentle simmer. Pop a lid on, keep heat medium-low, and cook for about 15-20 minutes (this is where I usually sneak a taste—well, maybe two. Shh.)
Fish out the chicken. Shred it with two forks—sometimes I use my hands if I’m feeling lazy and nobody’s watching (but mind the temperature, obviously.) Return the shredded meat to the pot.
Pour in the cream and let it bubble away, low and lazy, for another 5-10 minutes. Adjust seasoning; I always add bit more pepper at this point. Taste, taste, taste!
Finish with a sprinkle of basil and red pepper flakes, if you like. Serve. Or sneak another bite before the rabble arrives.

Stuff I Wish I Knew—Notes

If you overcook the chicken, don’t stress. It rehydrates a bit in the broth, surprisingly forgiving.
The cream can split if the heat’s too high at the end, so keep it gentle. (Learned that the… hard way.)
Sun-dried tomatoes can be a bit tangier than expected. Taste before adding more.
Actually, I find it works better if you add a touch of lemon juice right before serving—gives it a little zing. But you don’t need to, obviously.

How I’ve Swapped Things—Variations I’ve Tried

Once, I subbed coconut milk for cream—good if you’re dairy-free, but it tasted pretty odd with Italian spices. Not my best.
I tried it with kale instead of mushrooms. Result? More like a stew, but green bits everywhere, so I’d skip it unless you’re a kale fanatic.
Add some small pasta (like ditalini or orzo) near the end. Turns out more like a hearty stew—excellent when you need something to sop up with crusty bread.

Essential Gear? Sort Of. Equipment

Big soup pot or Dutch oven (I use my trusty Le Creuset knockoff—it’s ancient, but the right size). Don’t have one? Any large pot does the trick. Or even a slow cooker if you want to set and forget (maybe reduce the stock a smidge).
Sharp knife (if yours is dull, well, you’ll get a mini arm workout)
Ladle (a mug also works—been there, done that)

How Long Will It Last In the Fridge?

Tightly covered, it’ll keep in the fridge 3–4 days—but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! Reheat gently on the stovetop; the flavors just kinda deepen overnight, actually. If it thickens too much, just loosen it up with splash of water or milk.

What Should You Serve It With? My Little Routines

I’m partial to a hunk of sourdough (see this recipe for an easy bake), buttered up so the crumbs end up everywhere. Sometimes, I go for a side salad if I’m feeling virtuous, but that’s not often. Oh, and don’t skimp on the pepper grinder—turns soup into an event, trust me!

Little Pro Tips That Only Exist Because I Messed Up

One time, I rushed the browning and the chicken was kinda blah. Don’t be me. Give ‘em a proper sizzle—makes the broth amazing.
If your soup ever splits (like I did once adding cold cream), whisk in a teaspoon of flour or cornstarch first, fixes everything.
When adding sun-dried tomatoes, drain the excess oil or you’ll end up with a weirdly greasy top. Or maybe that’s just me being picky.

FAQ – Answering What Friends Have Actually Asked

Can I make this ahead? Oh totally. It’s even better the next day if you ask me—just don’t add the cream until you reheat, or it can get weird.
What if I don’t eat chicken? Well, try tofu or even chickpeas for a veg version, but swap the stock for veggie broth. I mean, it's not exactly the same, but nobody's grading you.
Do I have to use sun-dried tomatoes? Nope, but they give it that “special occasion” flavor. Regular tomatoes totally work—it’s just a bit lighter.
Freezable? Kinda. The soup base freezes fine, but cream can get a bit funky. I leave it out, freeze the rest, then add cream on reheat.
Where can I get good Italian seasoning? If you want the *good* stuff, hit up an Italian deli or order from Penzeys—love their blends!

And before I let you go, did you know chickens can apparently remember over a hundred faces? Just saying—you’ll remember this soup by heart after two tries. If you're still peckish for ideas, swing by Serious Eats’ chicken soup roundup—I pinch ideas from there all the time. Anyway, let me know if you tinker with this Marry Me Chicken Soup Recipe and find a twist I haven’t tried (odds are, I'd manage to mess it up at least once, too).

Marry Me Chicken Soup Recipe