Bone Broth Chicken Noodle Soup

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Soups & Breads & Pastries

There’s a quiet, almost sacred power in the way a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup can envelop you in comfort. It’s a ritual of care and nostalgia that transcends mere sustenance — evoking memories of parents standing over steaming pots and the twinkling laughter of siblings around a kitchen table. Bone broth chicken noodle soup, in particular, holds a place of honor in my heart, where warmth mingles with longing. I often find myself gravitating toward this recipe not just for its flavors but for the stories woven through every sizzling onion and fragrant herb.

As autumn whispers its way into the world, my kitchen becomes a haven. The slightly cool air seeps through the windows, crisping the edges of the leaves outside — a symphony of reds and oranges. While the world around me transitions to a more contemplative pace, I reach for the ingredients of this soup that cradles memories of my grandmother. She was a formidable woman with a nurturing heart — a kitchen alchemist who blended ingredients as well as she blended her laughter into our lives. It was in her modest kitchen that I first learned the healing power of food.

Her soup was a symphony of flavors: a rich bone broth, endless ingredients dancing together, and the satisfying slurp of noodles. Each spoonful, a reminder that magic could exist in the most ordinary moments. Even now, as I stand in my own kitchen with its pleasantly worn countertops and the scent of garlic lingering in the air, I can almost hear her voice guiding me through the familiar motions.

I carefully gather my ingredients, recalling the notes she used to hum in the background. My fingertips brush against the smooth surface of the carrots and the crinkly skin of the onions. Each ingredient is a stepping stone, narrating tales from my childhood, moments wrapped in laughter and love that feel vivid, yet distant as if time had embraced them within a gentle fog.

Behind Every Ingredient

Chicken bones: I always opt for organic chicken bones, often sourced from a local farmer’s market. They form the heart of the broth, their depths of flavor rich with stories of meal prep shared among generations. As a child, I remember my grandmother painstakingly simmering the bones for hours, the kitchen filled with the scent of savory indulgence, her teachings woven between her laughter as she recounted tales of her childhood.

Water: While it seems mundane, the water creates a nurturing environment, coaxing flavors from the ingredients. Our family often spoke of water like an ancient storyteller, unfurling tales from long ago. I let the water run from the tap, taking a moment to appreciate its clarity and simplicity before filling my pot.

Carrots: The vibrant orange of carrots sparks joy in me. They remind me of the summer garden where I used to sneak the sweetest ones directly from the earth with my siblings. Carrots were always the first to be plucked in our family’s tradition of creating colorful dishes – a sprinkle of brightness against the earthy bones.

Onions: Ah, the humble onion. I can still see my grandmother standing at the chopping board, those warm yet tear-inducing rings dancing beneath her blade. Onions hold an emotional essence; their layers reveal depth, sweetening as they cook down. Their fragrance is a palpable memory of love and patience.

Celery: Crunchy celery stalks remind me of the tiny hands that used to contribute to the kitchen symphony, my cousins snapping their ends off with little giggles. It provides a fresh, herbal note to the broth, a reminder that life flourishes best when shared with others.

Garlic: No good soup is complete without garlic. The scent of roasted cloves can make even the worst day seem manageable. It was my grandmother’s special secret; she believed garlic had the power to heal, both body and spirit. I crush the cloves, letting their heady aroma envelop me, transporting me to her warm embrace.

Herbs (thyme, bay leaves, parsley): These humble herbs add a fragrant complexity, blooming in the simmering broth. Thyme is my favorite, its earthy notes unlocking a comforting warmth that speaks to quiet moments spent huddled together with family around the table. Bay leaves are the wisdom of nature, imbuing the broth with a depth that lingers and invites contemplation.

Noodles: Any wide egg noodles will do. They are more than just a vehicle for the broth; they remind me of the laughter-filled mornings spent at the dinner table with bowls piled high, slurping noisily and competing for the longest noodle. They offer a chewy texture, forming small pockets of joy with each bite, just as each family meal we shared was brimming with laughter and stories.

In the scope of bone broth chicken noodle soup, every ingredient carries its own history and emotion. These are not merely components of a dish; they are characters, each a vital note in the symphony of my childhood. As I stack them on my countertop, a gentle nostalgia washes over me, enveloping me like the steam that rises from the pot.

Comfort Meets Care: Is It Healthy?

As I reflect on this recipe and its many layers, it’s impossible to ignore the health benefits buried within. Bone broth, for one, is reverently known in the wellness community for its restorative properties. It’s rich in collagen, minerals, and amino acids that rejuvenate joints, nourish skin, and support overall wellness. The act of simmering those chicken bones extracts the goodness, transforming it into a warm embrace for weary souls.

The vegetables offer a bounty of nutrients, each one bursting with vitality. Carrots with their vibrant hues supply vision-boosting beta-carotene. Celery brings its own unique set of vitamins, clever antioxidants wrapped in each crunchy bite. Garlic showcases its legendary immune-boosting properties, a testament to its revered place in culinary history.

Yet, as I write this, I hesitate to label it ‘guilt-free’ or ‘superfood’— the nature of soup is comfort, not perfection. It’s easy to slip into a cycle of healthy eating and forget the joy of indulgence — but food should tell stories, too. This soup can be both indulgent and nourishing, a sacred balance that mirrors the very nature of life: warm and hearty yet infused with vibrant health.

My heart swells with gratitude for this soup — it sings of balance with every spoonful. As nourishment meets affection, I realize it acts as more than just a meal; it cultivates a sense of community around the table, echoing those cozy dinners with my family and always leaving room for seconds, to savor and rejoice together.

Ingredients for Bone Broth Chicken Noodle Soup

– 2 pounds organic chicken bones (ideally with some meat still attached)
– 10 cups water
– 2 large carrots, sliced
– 2 large stalks of celery, chopped
– 1 large onion, diced
– 4 cloves garlic, minced
– 2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
– 1-2 bay leaves
– Salt and pepper, to taste
– 2 cups egg noodles
– Fresh parsley, for garnish

Here’s How I Make It

1. **Start by roasting the bones:** Preheat your oven to 400°F (200°C). I always love this step; it enhances flavors. Lay the chicken bones on a roasting pan and let them kiss the heat, roast for about 30 minutes until they are golden brown. I watch them closely, reminiscing about the days when my grandmother would meticulously roast them until perfectly bronzed. As the bones roast, a sense of anticipation blooms within me.

2. **Prepare the base:** Once the bones are flirtatiously fragrant, place them in a large stockpot and pour in the water. At this moment, I think of how important the water is in binding the flavors together, just as love unites families. Bring this to a gentle boil over medium heat.

3. **Add the aromatics:** As the water simmers and begins to bubble, add the sliced carrots, chopped celery, diced onion, and minced garlic to the pot. Allow their scents to mingle, creating a fragrant bouquet that fills the kitchen. With every bubble, I recall my grandmother’s stories and the warmth shared around her table.

4. **Season the broth:** Tuck those fresh thyme sprigs and bay leaves gently into the soup, adding a sprinkle of salt and pepper. I often add a little laughter during this part—a nod to her undeniable way of letting joy flavor her food. Stir with a gentle hand, bringing together everything into a simmering testament of care.

5. **Let it simmer:** Reduce the heat to low, allowing the pot to gently simmer for at least two hours. Time becomes fluid during this part, as the ingredients meld into a cohesive warmth. I find myself daydreaming, returning to those childhood days, immersed in the rich scents, the clatter of plates, and the animated conversations as we eagerly awaited a bowl filled with love.

6. **Strain the broth:** After the two hours have passed, a sweet golden liquid emerges, rich and layered with taste. I remove the bones, but it stings to watch the last remnants of chicken torn away. Using a strainer, I separate the broth from the vegetables and any bits lingering behind. My heart dances with gratitude for everything that went into the pot, producing this liquid gold — food that feeds both body and soul.

7. **Cook the noodles separately:** Cook the egg noodles separately according to package instructions, adding a dash of salt to the water for flavor. I never rush this step; savoring the texture as they soften brings me peace.

8. **Combine and serve:** Once the noodles are ready, I plop them into the strained broth, watching them twirl and dance. Serve in warm bowls, garnishing with freshly chopped parsley for a sprinkle of color reminiscent of the garden I once played in. Rainy afternoons spent with my grandmother resurface in my mind — soup bubbling away while we shared stories of our day.

9. **Enjoy the magic:** Sit with your loved ones, take a moment together to breathe in the aroma and swirl those spoons with delight. With every spoonful, let the warmth envelop you in nostalgia, reminding you of the stories that food can tell, savoring both the meal and the connections we share.

My Little Secrets

Every cook has their little quirks — those hidden secrets that add a touch of magic to every dish. I often leave out the skin from the chicken bones, which I find enhances the richness of the broth. A pinch of freshly grated nutmeg also dances into my pot; it’s a flourish my grandmother swore by, saying it brings warmth that reaches your very core.

Sometimes, when I have a moment to spare, I let the broth chill overnight in the fridge. The next day, I skim off any congealed fat on the surface — something she introduced me to. It’s about the balance, you know? Celebrating flavors without losing the lightness of each ingredient.

When plating, I always serve it in my grandmother’s old crockery — a sweet, decorative reminder of where these traditions started. Each bowl feels like a warm hug, offering both nostalgia and comfort. I dare not forget the importance of placing a few crusty slices of fresh sourdough on the table, the kind you can pull apart and generously slather with butter, making every meal feel festive.

A dash of lemon juice right before serving adds brightness — a delightful contrast to the rich broth, refreshing each bite like an unexpected laugh shared among friends.

A Closing Thought

Food, in its essence, is a timeless love letter to those we hold dear. It’s beautifully imperfect, like life itself, shaped by the hands that prepare it and the hearts that share it. As I sit with a steaming bowl of this bone broth chicken noodle soup, each sip transports me back to the warmth of my family’s kitchen, where laughter echoed amid the aromas.

Through this sweet, humble recipe, I hold tightly to the memories of yesteryears, allowing them to embrace me during quiet moments. In the clatter of spoons and the warmth of every bite lies an echo of family, tradition, and love — a legacy carried forward through simple ingredients that lovingly describe our intertwined stories. So as you make your own batch, treasure not just the soup but the love and connection it invites.

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