← Back to Blog

The Coziest Chicken Noodle Soup — The Day He Walked

MLK Day and Liam walked. Three steps, the couch to the coffee table, taken with the deliberate intention of someone who has calculated the exact risk and decided to proceed. He made it. He looked back at the couch like he was checking whether it was still there. Then he made the three steps again. Then he sat down and clapped for himself, which is a skill he learned two weeks ago and applies to everything he considers an achievement.

Sean was there. He was off for the holiday and we were both in the living room and we both saw it and Sean said "come here, come here" very quietly and Liam took two more steps toward Sean and then Sean picked him up and held him and I sat on the rug and cried in a way that is only partly explicable. He was going to walk eventually. Walking is not a surprise outcome. And yet.

My mother and Sean's mother both got phone calls within the hour. Maureen said "of course he did, he's been ready for weeks" with the proprietary confidence of a grandmother who has been watching and knew before we did. She was probably right.

I made pot roast in the slow cooker—put it on in the morning, walked Liam around the neighborhood, watched him walk three steps and cry, ate pot roast at six PM. The day contained multitudes. The pot roast was not the point of the day but the pot roast was exactly right for the day, the way food can be exactly right when the rest of the day has been significant and full and the body asks for something uncomplicated and warm.

The pot roast had already done its job that day, but whenever I think about meals that carry the weight of a big day without demanding anything back, I come back to this soup — the one I make on other milestone days, sick days, first-snow days, days when the body just wants something warm in a bowl. It’s the same impulse that sent me to the slow cooker that MLK Day morning: put something good on, let the day happen, eat when you’re ready. This chicken noodle soup is built for exactly that kind of day.

The Coziest Chicken Noodle Soup

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
  • 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
  • 3 stalks celery, sliced
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 2 cups egg noodles (uncooked)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried parsley
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

  1. Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook for 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  2. Build the broth. Add carrots, chicken broth, thyme, dried parsley, onion powder, and a generous pinch of salt and pepper. Stir to combine.
  3. Add the chicken. Nestle the chicken breasts or thighs into the broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a steady simmer. Cook uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until chicken is cooked through and registers 165°F.
  4. Shred the chicken. Remove chicken to a cutting board and shred with two forks into bite-sized pieces. Return shredded chicken to the pot.
  5. Cook the noodles. Bring the soup back to a gentle boil. Add egg noodles and cook according to package directions, usually 6–8 minutes, until just tender.
  6. Taste and finish. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper as needed. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh chopped parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 580mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 148 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?