Mexican Chicken Noodle Soup

The school year ends — not with ceremonies or field days or the triumphant last-day-of-school outfits but with laptops closing and Zoom calls ending and the strange, anticlimactic finish of a pandemic school year that felt like it lasted three years and three minutes simultaneously. Isabella finished her junior year with a 4.0 — perfect, pandemic or not, because Isabella's standards are not subject to viral conditions. Sofia finished her freshman year with a B-plus — respectable, expected, the school-gets-the-B allocation continuing. Diego finished sixth grade with straight A's and a teacher's note: "Diego thrived in remote learning because he essentially taught himself. He is the most self-directed learner I have encountered." Camila finished second grade with the teacher's note: "Camila adjusted to remote learning with typical Camila enthusiasm. She sang every answer."

The bakery's pandemic numbers for March through May: revenue down thirty-five percent from the same period last year. But alive. The bakery is alive. The meal kits are selling — thirty a week now, up from fourteen. The takeout counter is steady. The delivery service (Luis in the van) has become a permanent feature. And something unexpected: the Instagram following has grown during the pandemic — from twenty-two hundred to thirty-one hundred — because people who can't come to the bakery are following it online, watching Sofia's posts about conchas and meal kits and the daily soup, and the following is a form of participation, a form of belonging, a way of being at the bakery without being at the bakery.

Twenty-one days until Luis Jr. comes home. Three weeks. The countdown is almost over. The deployment is almost done. Nine months of his life in a desert I cannot name, doing things I cannot know, eating food that is not mine (except for the tamales, which were mine, and the conchas, which were mine, and the mole, which was Sofia's). Twenty-one days. I am making tamales. I am making two hundred tamales for his homecoming, and the production starts this week, and the tamales will be ready, and the boy will come home, and the table will be full, and the fullness will be the loudest thing in a house that has been too quiet for too long.

I made a pot of menudo this week — the Sunday ritual, unbroken through pandemic. The menudo doesn't know there's a virus. The menudo simmers and the tripe softens and the hominy swells and the chile turns the broth red, and the red is the color of continuity, the color of the thing that does not stop.

The menudo is the Sunday anchor, but it’s not the only pot I keep going during a week like this one—twenty-one days on the countdown, the bakery still breathing, the children all accounted for and fed. On the nights between Sundays, when I need something warm that comes together fast but still tastes like mine, like us, I make this Mexican Chicken Noodle Soup. It has the chile color of continuity, the same red the menudo has, and it fills the house with a smell that tells everyone inside: we are still here, we are still eating, we are still waiting together.

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

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium white onion, diced
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 Roma tomatoes, diced
2 dried guajillo chiles, stems and seeds removed, soaked and blended
1 jalapeño, seeded and minced
2 medium carrots, sliced into coins
2 celery stalks, sliced
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, cubed
6 cups chicken broth, low sodium
1 cup fideo or thin egg noodles
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano (Mexican oregano preferred)
1 teaspoon chili powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Juice of 1 lime
Fresh cilantro, chopped, for serving
Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium-high heat. Season chicken thighs with salt, pepper, and cumin. Sear for 3–4 minutes per side until golden. Remove and set aside; do not cook through.
Build the base. In the same pot, reduce heat to medium. Add onion and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and jalapeño; cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add tomatoes and chile. Stir in diced tomatoes and blended guajillo chile sauce. Cook for 3 minutes, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
Season and add vegetables. Add chili powder and oregano; stir to coat. Add carrots, celery, and potatoes. Stir to combine.
Simmer with chicken. Return the seared chicken to the pot. Pour in chicken broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer 15 minutes until chicken is cooked through and vegetables are nearly tender.
Shred and add noodles. Remove chicken and shred with two forks. Return shredded chicken to the pot. Add fideo or egg noodles and simmer uncovered 8–10 minutes until noodles are tender and broth has thickened slightly.
Finish and serve. Stir in lime juice and adjust seasoning. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro. Serve with lime wedges and warm tortillas.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Chicken Noodle Soup — The Pot That Keeps Simmering No Matter What