Cozy Curry Chicken Soup

Gayle's birthday. She turned seventy-four on Thursday, which she acknowledged with the enthusiasm of a woman being told her oil needs changing — noted, filed, moving on. I brought her a chocolate sheet cake, because that is what we do for birthdays, and a card signed by all four kids. Tyler wrote his name so large it took up a quarter of the card, which is either confidence or a lack of spatial awareness, and with Tyler it could be either.

I took Gayle to the Perkins for lunch, just the two of us. She ordered a patty melt and coffee and ate half of each, which is Gayle's standard — she has never finished a restaurant meal in her life, and the leftover half goes home in a box that she will eat for dinner, which means lunch is also dinner, which means I am paying for two meals disguised as one. Gayle has been economizing since the Roosevelt administration and she will not stop now.

We talked about Larry. Not about the death — we do not talk about the death, not anymore, not in specifics — but about him. About the way he whistled when he was checking the tires. About the way he called Gayle from the road every night at seven, without fail, for thirty-five years. About the way he ate cornbread crumbled in buttermilk, which is disgusting and which I have started doing because grief makes you do the things the dead person did, as if you can keep them alive by keeping their habits. I crumble cornbread in buttermilk now. Larry would think that is funny. Larry would be right.

I made chicken salad for dinner — the kind with grapes and pecans and a little curry powder, which is my one concession to seasoning that is not salt, pepper, or garlic. The kids ate it in sandwiches on the porch because the evening was long and warm and the porch is where we eat when the sky cooperates, which in Nebraska is a negotiation the sky wins more often than not.

The curry powder in that chicken salad is the same jar I’ve had on the second shelf for years — I use it sparingly, almost apologetically, the way you use something you love but aren’t sure you’ve earned. After an afternoon spent remembering Larry and watching Tyler’s enormous signature take over Gayle’s birthday card, I wanted something that carried that same quiet warmth into the next meal — and this soup does exactly that. It’s the kind of thing you make when the evening asks for something gentle and the kitchen is still yours for a little while longer.

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

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
2 teaspoons curry powder
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes
1 can (14 oz) coconut milk
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 medium carrots, sliced
2 cups baby spinach
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh cilantro and lime wedges for serving

Instructions

Cook the chicken. Place chicken in a medium saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a gentle boil. Reduce heat and simmer 15–18 minutes until cooked through. Remove, let cool slightly, then shred with two forks. Set aside.
Build the base. In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and ginger and cook another 1–2 minutes until fragrant.
Bloom the spices. Stir in curry powder, turmeric, and cayenne (if using). Cook the spices with the onion mixture for 1 minute, stirring constantly, until fragrant and slightly darkened.
Add the liquids and vegetables. Pour in the diced tomatoes (with juices), coconut milk, and chicken broth. Add the sliced carrots. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 12–15 minutes until carrots are tender.
Finish the soup. Stir in the shredded chicken and baby spinach. Cook 2–3 minutes until the spinach is wilted and the chicken is heated through. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime juice. Serve with crusty bread or warm naan on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cozy Curry Chicken Soup — The Same Curry Powder That Goes in My Chicken Salad