Makes Your Whole Place Smell Like Home

Honestly, there’s just something about a pot of chicken and rice soup gently bubbling away that transports me right back to chilly evenings at my nan’s house. She’d let me stir the pot — well, only after reminding me seventeen times not to drop the spoon. And I still remember being way too impatient and burning my tongue on that very first spoonful, every single time (why don’t I ever learn?).

One time, my friend Jill came over for dinner, and I swear she ate so much of this soup I had to scrounge in the freezer for more chicken the next day. It’s just that kind of recipe — generous, forgiving, and about as cozy as a pair of favorite socks. And if you’re thinking soup isn’t quite a meal, you probably haven’t had it with a doorstop slice of bread and butter (or a crusty roll, if you’re fancy).

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Comforting Soup

I make this whenever someone in my house sounds sniffly, or when the weather does that weird sideways rain thing. My family goes a bit wild for it, especially since I started using leftover roast chicken sometimes (big time-saver, though don’t tell my mum — she’d say that’s cheating).

Sometimes, I throw in way too many carrots—nobody’s complained yet. And you know, it’s a kitchen lifesaver for those days when I’m fed up of pasta or just too worn out to bother with anything that has multiple pans. There’s something soothing about it. Also, if you accidentally over-salt it (guilty), a squeeze of lemon seems to fix just about anything.

What You’ll Need (But Feel Free to Improvise)

2 medium chicken breasts (or 2 cups leftover cooked chicken—thighs are richer; I’ve even used rotisserie when in a crunch)
1 cup rice (white, brown, or heck, I once used farro—it actually worked okay)
3 carrots, peeled and sliced (I’ll grab rainbow carrots if I’m feeling flash)
2 celery stalks, chopped (or more, if you have them rolling around in the fridge)
1 large onion, diced
3 garlic cloves, minced (sometimes I just whack ’em with the back of a knife and toss them in)
1 bay leaf (optional, but Grandma swore by it)
6 cups chicken stock (homemade is great, but honestly the boxed kind is just fine — here’s a clever stock vs. broth explainer)
A handful of fresh parsley (or a sprinkle of dried stuff; both work, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise)
Salt and pepper to taste (I try not to get too vigorous with the pepper—once made it taste like the inside of a spice cabinet, oops)
A squeeze of lemon (totally transforms it, trust me)

How I Actually Make It

First things first: chuck a big pot (Dutch oven if you’ve got one, or whatever will hold 2 liters comfortably) on the hob. Drizzle in a glug of oil and heat it until it whispers.
Add onion, carrots, and celery, and let them get soft and friendly. About 5-7 minutes? But some days mine go for 8 and turn out fine. Garlic goes in after — don’t let it burn! (I once did. Not great.)
Now nestle the chicken breasts into the veg, pour in your stock, and plop in the bay leaf. Crank the heat just until it bubbles, then drop it to a gentle, no-fuss simmer. Cover, but leave a little space for steam to escape. Let that go for about 20 minutes.
Here’s where I usually sneak a taste — this is also when small children become curiously attentive, spoon in hand.
Fish out the chicken, shred it with two forks (or your hands if you’re brave), then toss it back in.
Pour in the rice and simmer until it’s tender. About 12-15 minutes for white, 30 for brown. Or just keep checking — I find perfection is mostly guesswork here.
Once the rice looks about right, stir in parsley, salt, pepper, and a nice squeeze of lemon. Remove the bay leaf (I always forget this step and end up with a surprise in someone’s bowl).
Ladle it up and serve. Don’t worry if it looks a bit thick; homemade soup is like that.

What I Learned Along the Way

Rice soaks up loads of liquid after sitting, so if your leftovers turn to cement, just add a splash of water when reheating.
If you use brown rice, get ready to be patient — it always takes at least 10 minutes longer than I expect.
I used to use a hand blender (I read about it on this BA guide) for a creamy texture, but honestly, my family prefers it brothy.
Don’t be shy with lemon. There’s a real difference between “hmm, nice soup” and “oh wow what IS that flavor?”

Variations and Happy Accidents

Try throwing in a handful of spinach at the end—wilted but still green. Or peas, if you like more sweetness.
Once tried coconut milk instead of stock…wouldn’t really recommend (maybe for another dish, but not here).
I’ve swapped rice for orzo when it’s all I had, and it was honestly pretty great — extra slurpable.

What If You Don’t Have All the Gear?

I usually reach for my Dutch oven, but really, any decent-sized soup pot will do. And once, on a camping trip, I made this in a battered tin pot over the fire. Worked just fine, if a little bit smoky (extra flavor, right?). If you don’t have a ladle — I just use a mug sometimes. Improvisation is half the fun.

Comforting, Homemade Chicken And Rice Soup

Storing Your Chicken and Rice Soup

I think this soup tastes better the next day, but, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If somehow there are leftovers, just pop them in a tub and stash it in the fridge for up to 3 days. Freezes well too, but, warning: the rice gets a bit mushy (not that anyone’s complained around here yet).

Serving: What We Pair with It (Besides a Hug)

We’re big bread-and-butter people, but this is also surprisingly tasty over mashed potatoes (I know, sounds odd, but try it!). My sister dunks in saltines, and my neighbor puts hot sauce on everything. Family tradition says to throw on extra parsley, but honestly, sometimes I forget and nobody notices.

Things I Figured Out the Hard Way

Don’t rush shredding the chicken. Tried to cut corners once. Ended up with tough, rubbery bits — not my best work.
Pouring in all the rice at once is fine, just expect it to thicken as it sits. Sometimes I set a bit aside and add more later.
Tried sautéing everything super quick to save time, but it tasted a bit raw. Actually, I find it works better if you just let it take its time at the start.

Questions I Get All the Time (And My Not-So-Perfect Answers)

What kind of rice is best?: I use whatever’s knocking about. Basmati, long-grain, even jasmine once. Brown rice is extra hearty, but takes forever. If you need to stretch things, wild rice is hearty (the cook time is bonkers, though!).
Can you make this vegetarian?: I’ve tried, swapping chicken for chickpeas and using veggie stock. It’s honestly fine, but missing that hearty, chicken-y flavor (try adding a dash of smoked paprika for oomph).
How do you keep the rice from getting soggy?: Honestly, you don’t, unless you cook it separate and stir it in at the end. But that’s an extra pan, and I’m usually too lazy for that.
Can you use frozen chicken?: Yep! Just simmer a bit longer to be sure it’s cooked through (poke it and check). Or thaw in the microwave in a pinch.
Could I do this in a slow cooker?: Funny you ask, I tried once and it worked, but the texture’s not quite my thing. Still nice on a cold day, though.

PS. If you like experimenting, there’s a fun roundup of rice soup twists here.