Chicken Potato Soup

Week two of the pandemic. I got the fellowship email on Monday. A fellowship during a global pandemic, a stipend, a research program. I sat at my kitchen table and read it three times and then I called Gloria and she answered immediately, like she had been waiting, and I said: I got the fellowship. She made a sound I have not heard from her before, something between a laugh and a sob, and she said: Savannah. Just my name. She said my name. I said I know. We stayed on the phone for a while without talking much. That was enough.

I told Dr. Ochoa by email. She responded in eleven minutes and said: congratulations. I knew. You knew too. Yes. I did know, and knowing and having it happen are different things.

The pandemic context makes this feel both more and less significant than it would have otherwise. Less because the world is frightening right now and a fellowship feels abstract against that. More because I have always had to build things in adverse conditions. A fellowship in a pandemic is not different in its fundamental nature from everything else I have ever done. You do the work in the conditions you are given. You do not wait for better conditions. There are no better conditions. There is just this, and what you make of it.

I cooked a celebration dinner for myself: the chicken and dumplings. In my apartment alone with Biscuit on the chair beside me and the windows open to the spring air and the fellowship letter on the screen of my laptop and the sound of the quiet street outside. I ate two bowls. I was alone and fed and celebrated and okay. That is more than enough.

Chicken and dumplings has always been my version of that recipe—the one that means something happened, the one I return to when the moment is too big for ordinary food. That night, alone in my apartment with Biscuit beside me and the fellowship letter glowing on my screen, I wanted something that would hold me the way a good meal can hold a person: warmly, without fuss, without needing me to explain myself. This chicken potato soup is what I made, thick and golden and deeply savory, the kind of thing you eat two bowls of not because you’re still hungry but because you’re not ready to stop being comforted.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs or breasts
4 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 stalks celery, sliced
2 medium carrots, sliced into coins
6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup whole milk or half-and-half
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the chicken. Place chicken in a large pot and cover with chicken broth. Bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat and simmer for 18–20 minutes, until cooked through. Remove chicken, shred with two forks, and set aside. Reserve the broth.
Build the base. In the same pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion, celery, and carrots and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5–6 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Make the roux. Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir to coat. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, to eliminate the raw flour taste.
Add broth and potatoes. Gradually pour the reserved chicken broth back into the pot, stirring to prevent lumps. Add potatoes, thyme, and smoked paprika. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes, until potatoes are fork-tender.
Finish the soup. Stir in the shredded chicken and milk or half-and-half. Simmer gently for 5 minutes—do not boil after adding dairy. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley. Eat two bowls if you need to. You’ve earned it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Potato Soup — The Meal I Made to Celebrate Myself