← Back to Blog

15 Best Fast And Easy Soup Recipes — The Crockpot Chicken Tortilla Soup That Gets You Through

Last semester. Day one. Again I walked into Nashville State with the Goodwill backpack (still holding together, still black, still mine). Again Tanisha saved me a seat. But this time was different. This time was the last time. The last first day. The last time I'd sit in a classroom and feel the thrill of beginning, because after this, the beginning is over and the career starts and the woman who walked in here two years ago disappears into the woman who walks out.

Advanced Clinical Practice is the big one — all-day clinic sessions on Mondays and Wednesdays, seeing real patients, doing full assessments, cleanings, X-rays, education. No more mannequin heads. No more training wheels. Dr. Whitfield told the class: "This semester, you are dental hygienists. Act like it." I am a dental hygienist. I am a dental hygienist. If I say it enough times, my hands will stop shaking. They stopped. They stopped by the second patient.

Community Dental Health is about outreach — bringing dental care to underserved populations. It's the class that's closest to my heart, because underserved is the word that describes every community I've ever lived in. Antioch doesn't have extra dental clinics. The families I grew up with didn't go to the dentist because they couldn't afford it, same as Gloria, the woman who cried in my chair because she'd waited eleven years. This class is teaching me how to be the person who goes to those communities. Not waits for them to come to me. Goes to them.

Peer tutoring starts next week. I'll be working with first-semester students every Friday morning. I'm nervous. Not about the material — I know the material in my sleep. Nervous about being looked at as someone who has answers, because for most of my life I've been the person with questions. The person who didn't know. The person who needed the $50 tip and the stranger's faith. Now I'm supposed to be someone's Denise. That's a responsibility I take as seriously as anything I've ever done.

Chloe starts kindergarten next week. I bought her new shoes (pink, sparkly, non-negotiable). I labeled every item in her backpack. I wrote her teacher a note: "Chloe is a strong reader, a fierce personality, and she will correct you if you mispronounce anything. She gets that from her grandmother." I didn't send the note. But I wrote it, and it made me feel better.

I made a crock pot of chicken tortilla soup on the first day — came home at 9:30 PM from class, exhausted, and there it was in the slow cooker, hot and ready, because morning-Sarah had put it on for evening-Sarah, and morning-Sarah is a genius who deserves a medal. Chloe had already eaten (Mama fed her). Jayden was asleep. I sat at the table alone and ate soup at 10 PM and the apartment was quiet and the soup was warm and I thought: four months. Four months until I'm done. Four months until the finish line. The soup tastes like four months. It tastes like almost.

Morning-Sarah deserves all the credit. There’s something quietly powerful about doing a kindness for your future self before the hard part even begins — tossing everything into the slow cooker at 7 AM so that the woman who drags herself through the door at 9:30 PM doesn’t have to think, just eat. This crockpot chicken tortilla soup from our roundup of the 15 best fast and easy soup recipes is exactly that kind of recipe: low effort at the start, full payoff at the end, the kind of warm and filling meal that tastes like almost there on even the longest days.

Crockpot Chicken Tortilla Soup

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6–8 hours (low) or 3–4 hours (high) | Total Time: Up to 8 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 2–3 breasts)
  • 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 can (15 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes, undrained
  • 1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles (such as Ro-Tel), undrained
  • 1 can (15 oz) whole kernel corn, drained
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 cup salsa (mild or medium)
  • 1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
  • 1 tsp ground cumin
  • 1/2 tsp garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp onion powder
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • Toppings: shredded cheddar, sour cream, tortilla strips or crushed chips, sliced avocado, fresh cilantro, lime wedges

Instructions

  1. Load the crockpot. Place chicken breasts in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker. Add black beans, pinto beans, fire-roasted tomatoes, diced tomatoes with green chiles, and corn directly on top. Pour in chicken broth and salsa.
  2. Season. Sprinkle taco seasoning, cumin, garlic powder, and onion powder evenly over the top. Stir gently to distribute. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
  3. Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 6–8 hours or on HIGH for 3–4 hours, until chicken is cooked through and pulls apart easily with a fork.
  4. Shred the chicken. Remove chicken breasts and shred using two forks on a cutting board, or use a hand mixer directly in the pot. Return shredded chicken to the soup and stir to combine.
  5. Taste and adjust. Give the soup a final taste and adjust seasoning as needed — more cumin for earthiness, a squeeze of lime for brightness, or a pinch of salt to bring it all together.
  6. Serve and top. Ladle into bowls and pile on your toppings: shredded cheese, a dollop of sour cream, crunchy tortilla strips, sliced avocado, fresh cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. Eat it at whatever hour the day finally lets you sit down.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 320 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 740mg

Sarah Mitchell
About the cook who shared this
Sarah Mitchell
Week 72 of Sarah’s 30-year story · Nashville, Tennessee
Sarah is a single mom of three, a dental hygienist, and a Nashville girl through and through. She started cooking at eleven out of necessity — feeding her younger siblings while her mama worked double shifts — and never stopped. Her kitchen is tiny, her budget is tight, and her chicken and dumplings will make you want to cry. She writes for every mom who's ever felt like she's not doing enough. Spoiler: you are.

How Would You Spin It?

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