Why I’m Slightly Obsessed With This Soup

If you ever drop by my house on a chilly evening (especially during what I stubbornly call ‘soup weather’), there’s an embarrassingly high chance you’ll end up with a bowl of this smoky bacon and tomato soup shoved into your hands. It’s happened more than once—I remember almost burning it once because my mate Andy kept going on about last week’s footie results and I completely lost track of time. Anyway, this soup sort of became my answer to ‘what’s for dinner?’ …even on those days when I wish it wasn’t.

I mean, it has bacon. And smoky paprika. Plus, the tomato-y richness that just gets better the longer it sits in the pot—well, if you can wait that long. Once, I tried to make it “fancy” by drizzling a bit of olive oil on top, and the kids gave me that look, so now I stick to the basic plan. But honestly? Nothing hits the spot quite like this. It’s my winter blanket in soup form, and it even impresses my mother-in-law. (No small feat, that.)

Here’s Why You’ll Probably Love This Too (No Pressure!)

I tend to make this when I want something that’s so much more than what the ingredient list promises—it’s hearty, a bit cheeky, and tastes like you made an effort even if you didn’t have much time (I definitely didn’t last Tuesday). My family goes absolutely mad for this because the smoky bacon gives it that lovely campfire whiff—even though my smoke alarm’s gone off more than once. (If yours does, just call it ‘adding flavour.’) And, real talk, it’s brilliant for using up those squishy tomatoes or cans you forgot about.

To be honest, I used to dread soup night as a kid, but something about that deep, rich tomato taste jazzed up with bacon basically made me convert. Also, if you’re a dunker, wait till you try good bread in this—trust me.

Stuff You’ll Need (Don’t Stress if You’re Missing a Thing)

6 rashers of smoked streaky bacon (sometimes I use thick-cut if I’m feeling decadent; unsmoked is fine, but skip it if you’re vegetarian and throw in a bit of smoked paprika instead)
1 large onion, chopped (red or white—honestly, they both do the job; I once used shallots, which was…different)
2-3 garlic cloves, roughly smashed
800g canned chopped tomatoes (or 6-8 overripe fresh ones, skin on—my grandma always insisted on homegrown, but I’ll use the supermarket ones in a pinch)
2 tbsp tomato puree (I sometimes skip this, but it does make it richer)
1 tsp smoked paprika (I’ve used sweet paprika by mistake, and it was still good, just less ‘oomph’)
500ml chicken stock (cube or homemade, or veggie stock works too—I’m not a stock snob)
1 tsp sugar (optional, but it helps with any tartness form the toms)
Salt and black pepper—to taste
A glug of olive oil or butter (never really measured—just enough to start the onions off)
Optional: A splash of double cream or a handful of chopped herbs for serving (parsley or basil—whatever’s wilting in the bottom of the fridge)

Let’s Get Cooking (And Maybe Chat a Bit Too)

Heat a good drizzle of olive oil (not the fancy stuff—you want something with a bit of backbone) in a big saucepan. Chuck in the chopped onions and bacon. Fry until the onions are soft and the bacon’s looking a bit crispy round the edges—don’t wander off; it goes from golden to burnt quicker than you think. (I speak from painful experience.)
Now, in goes the garlic. Stir for a minute. This is where I normally take a deep breath because the smell is outrageously good.
Spoon in the tomato puree and sprinkle the paprika; let it cook out for a minute. It’ll start to stick slightly to the bottom, but that’s fine—just scrape it up later with your spoon.
Pour in the chopped tomatoes, stock, and sugar. Stir, scrape up all the gorgeous brown bits, then let it all bubble gently. Reduce the heat, plonk on a lid, and simmer for 20-25 minutes. (Usually, I wander off and end up doom-scrolling on my phone here. Doesn’t affect the soup, as far as I can tell.)
Get your blender ready, or just use a stick blender right in the pot. Blend till smooth. Don’t panic if it looks too thick; add a splash of water or more stock. This is when I always taste for salt and pepper—occasionally overdoing it, then adding more cream to mellow it out. Oops.
If you like it creamy, stir in a splash of double cream, though sometimes I forget this step and nobody really minds except me.
Serve piping hot, with more crusty bread than you probably need.

Notes I Wish Someone Had Told Me (You’re Welcome!)

Once, out of pure laziness, I used pre-diced bacon lardons—worked almost as well as cutting rashers. No shame.
If you skip the cream, a bit more olive oil at the end gives a lovely richness that surprised me the first time.
If you leave this soup a day in the fridge, it thickens and honestly tastes better. But it rarely sticks around that long in this house!

I’ve Experimented With These (Some Good, Some Not!)

Tried chucking in a pinch of chilli flakes—nice bit of heat, but overwhelmed the bacon once. So, maybe just a pinch!
Roasted a few cherry tomatoes in the oven and added them in, which was a faff but so tasty.
Swapped bacon for chorizo—actually, that’s brilliant, though oilier.
Attempted to blend in tinned beans for protein, but on second thought, the texture was odd—maybe just add them whole if you want to try?

The Gear (But Don’t Fret)

Saucepan, obviously. Big enough to handle a bit of bubbling excitement.
Blender or stick blender—if you don’t have one, mashing it with a potato masher gives it a rustic vibe. I did this once when my blender broke and, well, ‘chunky’ was the theme.
Chopping board and knife—unless you like living on the edge. (I’ve chopped bacon with scissors in a pinch, and it works!)

How Long Does It Keep? (Just Theoretically)

Supposedly, it’ll keep covered in the fridge for up to 3 days and freezes well—if you let it cool completely first. In reality, I can’t remember the last time we had leftovers. Maybe in your house it lasts longer? (If so, respect!)

Serving: Here’s How I Like It (Feel Free To Disagree)

So, I love piling on a heap of fresh basil if I’ve got it, and always with thick, buttery toast—bonus points if it’s sourdough. Sometimes my youngest dunks cheddar soldiers in, which I shamelessly copied. Oh! And if I’m feeling generous, I’ll grate a bit of parmesan over mine (not very traditional, but hey-ho).

Don’t Repeat My Mistakes, Please

I tried to blitz it too hot in the blender once—let’s just say the lid was never the same, and the soup was everywhere but in my bowl.
Another time, I skipped the onion because I couldn’t be bothered. Regretted it. The base needs it, trust me.
And don’t boil it too hard; once I did and the bacon got lost—well, less smoky and tasty, more chewy. Learn form me.

FAQ (I Actually Get Asked These—You’d Be Surprised!)

Can I use turkey bacon? – Sure? Won’t have the same smoky punch, but if that’s what you’ve got, go wild. Maybe double up on the paprika for oomph.
Is this soup gluten-free? – Yep, just check your stock cubes and bacon, sometimes they sneak in extras. Otherwise, you’re good!
Can it be made vegan? – I think so! Leave out the bacon, use smoked paprika, veggie stock, and a bit extra olive oil for richness. Not quite the same, but still yum.
What kind of tomatoes work best? – Whatever’s cheapest or looks a bit sad in the fridge, honestly. Fresh is nice, but tins are more reliable. Want to nerd out on tomato varieties? Serious Eats did a whole taste test.
Can I make this ahead? – Yes! Actually, I think it’s better the next day (if you can control yourself).
Help, my soup is way too thick! – Pour in some water or stock till you’re happy. Too thin? Simmer a bit longer with the lid off. Or just blame the weather.
Where’d you learn this version? – Started with a BBC Good Food recipe yonks ago and then tweaked it each time, usually after a slip-up or ingredient swap.

I could talk soup all day (don’t tempt me), but give this a bash and let me know how yours turns out. Maybe you’ll discover a game-changing tweak—I’m always up for nicking new ideas (just don’t tell my kids).