Let Me Tell You About Chicken & Dumplings (And That One Disaster…)

You ever have a dish that just wraps itself around you and says, hey, you’re home now? Chicken & dumplings is that one for me. My mum used to make it every first frosty night when we were kids, and even though her dumplings sometimes went rogue (like floating to the top and pretending to be clouds), I never minded a bit. To be honest, I’ve totally burned the bottom of my pot trying to do too many things at once. But, you know, the smell alone will make your neighbors want to pop round for a ‘taste-test’ (which is code for three bowls).

Why You’ll Love This (If My Family’s Any Example…)

I only make chicken & dumplings when I’ve got someone to feed—it’s not a sad singles’ dish, unless, hey, that’s your vibe (no judgment). My teenager goes bananas for it, and my partner? Pretty sure they married me for this recipe. It’s also my go-to for those days when the world feels nonsense; the stirring is almost meditative (unless you forget it, like I did once—scraping is not zen, trust me). Simple, honest, and feels homemade even if you use a rotisserie chicken instead of slow-poached thighs (I’ve done both. No shame!)

Stuff You’ll Need (Seriously, Anything in the Fridge Will Do)

About 2 pounds chicken (thighs, breasts, or, when in a hurry, shredded rotisserie chicken—don’t @ me)
1 big onion, chopped (or a couple handfuls of the frozen diced stuff, which honestly saves time)
2-3 carrots, sliced (sometimes I just use baby carrots and chop them up—can’t tell the difference much)
3 sticks celery, sliced (optional if you, like me once, realize you’ve run out after starting—honestly, you barely miss it)
4-6 cups chicken broth (good old Swanson, or the bouillon cubes if you forgot to stock up)
2 cloves garlic, minced (the jarred kind is fine, or even garlic powder in a pinch)
Salt and black pepper, to taste (I tend to go heavy on pepper, so watch out)
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme (fresh if you’ve still got some living on the windowsill…)
Dumplings: 2 cups flour, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 cup unsalted butter, 1 cup milk (Grandma used Crisco once, but I stick with butter! Actually, I think it tastes richer)
Optional: A handful of peas for color, or a splash of cream if you’re feeling fancy

How I Throw It All Together (Sometimes Literally)

Brown the chicken (or skip if it’s rotisserie): Heat a big heavy pot over medium. Splash in a little oil; brown the chicken until it doesn’t look raw anymore, about 5 minutes. If you’re using already cooked chicken, save yourself some dishes.
Add the veg: Toss in onion, carrot, celery, and garlic. Let it sizzle while you sniff the lovely smell (this is where I usually sneak a taste, though it’s just onion at this point, so maybe don’t).
Pour in stock & simmer: Cover everything with broth, scrape up the brown bits (the best flavor lives there), season with salt, pepper, and thyme. Bring it to a boil, then drop heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20–30 mins until the veg is soft and the chicken is cooked through. If using cooked chicken, just simmer the veggies.
Shred chicken: Fish out the chicken pieces, shred with two forks (or your hands, but let it cool a bit—I burnt my fingers once), and then toss it back in.
Make the dumplings: In a bowl, mix flour, baking powder, salt. Cut in butter with a fork or fingers until crumbly. Pour in milk, stir until just combined (don’t overwork it—learned that the hard way. Rock dumplings are not fun.)
Drop the dumplings: Plop tablespoonfuls right into the simmering broth. Don’t panic if they sink or float or merge together. Happens all the time. Cover and don’t peek; cook 15 minutes (they steam, basically—someone saw me open the lid once and said, “Oi! You’ll make ‘em tough!” Maybe it’s superstition, but now I obey).
Final shuffle: Stir gently, check seasoning, maybe add peas or a splash of cream if you want it lush. Then serve up warm bowls.

Random Notes (Tales From My Kitchen Trials)

If your dumplings look weird, just act like you did it on purpose. Rustic is ‘in’ anyway.
I once tried replacing milk in the dumpling dough with sour cream—came out a tad too heavy, but maybe that’s just me?
Sometimes I make extra broth, because it thickens as it cools and can get gummy. Just loosen it with a splash of water.

What Else I’ve Tried (A Few Variations, Some Regrettable)

Swapped chicken for turkey after Thanksgiving. Actually, it’s lovely.
On a dare, I added curry powder once—nope, not for me, and my family still brings it up every year. But hey, you might love it! If you’re feeling bolder than me, check out this adventurous recipe.
If you’re gluten-free, King Arthur’s blend works okay for dumplings.
Once had to use canned biscuits for the dumplings—don’t judge, they puff up fine in a pinch.

Equipment (But Don’t Stress If You Don’t Have It)

Big heavy-bottomed pot (Dutch oven is ideal, but your regular soup pot will do; just watch the heat—my old aluminum pot scorches fast!)
Mixing bowl, fork (for the dumplings)
Some form of measuring cups, but honestly, I eyeball it more than I’d like to admit
No rolling pins or fancy gadgets needed, though you can roll dumplings if you want flat ones (I can’t be bothered!)

Keeping Leftovers (If There Actually Are Any)

Stick any leftovers in a lidded container in the fridge, and it’ll keep for up to three days. But, not gonna lie, I’ve never had it last more than 24 hours at my place; the smell of it cold is enough to make people raid the fridge. The dumplings soak up the broth a bit, so add a splash of water before reheating—microwave is fine, or back in the pot if you’re feeling patient.

Serving It Up (The Fun Part)

I always serve chicken & dumplings with a chunk of crusty bread—even if carbs on carbs is a crime (come at me). On cold nights, we heap it into giant mugs and eat it—no spoons, straight up. My friend likes a sprinkle of chopped parsley on top, but I forget half the time and it still tastes like a warm jumper on a wet day. And if there’s pie for dessert, well, that’s a country dinner done right.

Pro Tips from My Greatest Mishaps

Rushing the dumplings is tempting. I once cranked up the heat to “speed things up”—ended up with goofy, tough little golf balls. Let them steam slowly, just trust me.
If your broth gets too thick, don’t panic! Thin it out with more stock or water. It’s soup, not concrete. Actually, if it’s concrete, you’re too late, sorry…
Taste before serving, every single time. Salt moves around when you aren’t looking.

Frequently Asked Questions (My Phone Keeps Buzzing…)

Do the dumplings go soggy overnight?
Not really, but they soak up broth so they’re denser the next day—which I actually prefer! If you want ‘em fluffier, serve right away.

Can I make this with boneless chicken?
Absolutely. It saves time shredding. Bones add flavor, but I won’t fuss if you can’t be bothered.

What if I don’t have a Dutch oven?
Oh, no big deal, use any pot that holds all your ingredients. I used my old college soup pot for years.

Can you freeze chicken & dumplings?
Technically yes, but the dumplings get a bit chewy. I’d probably just eat it up now (that’s what happens here anyway) or freeze the base and do fresh dumplings after thawing.

How thick should the broth be?
Sort of up to you! I like it stew-thick, but sometimes it’s more of a soup—depends how much broth you started with. It’ll thicken on its own as it simmers. Just go with your gut.

Last thing—don’t forget to open a window while you’re simmering this. Otherwise your house will smell like chicken for a week (which might actually be a good thing…)

CHICKEN & DUMPLINGS