Chicken and Wild Rice Soup

The first real cold snap of fall arrived Thursday morning, and I woke up to a kitchen that was fifty-eight degrees, which in Alabama counts as winter even though the calendar says October. I turned on the oven before the coffee was ready — not to bake anything, just for the heat, which is a thing Alabama women do and Yankees would not understand. The oven is a heater. The heater is a heater too, but the oven has the added benefit of making the house smell like possibility, and possibility is a better thermostat than any machine.

With the cold came the craving for soup, and I made a big pot of chicken and wild rice soup — the kind that takes three hours and is worth every minute. I roasted the chicken first, a whole bird rubbed with herbs, then pulled the meat and simmered the bones into a broth that was golden and deep and tasted like patience. Added the wild rice, carrots, celery, onion, a splash of cream at the end, and fresh thyme from the little pot I keep on the kitchen windowsill. The soup filled the house the way warmth fills a blanket — from the inside out, slowly, completely.

Marcus had a parent-teacher conference this week. Calvin and I went together, which we do for every conference, because showing up is half the battle and showing up together is the other half. His teachers said what I already know: Marcus is bright, hardworking, kind, the kind of student who makes other students better by being in the room. His physics teacher said he has real aptitude for engineering. His English teacher said he writes well, which I take personal credit for because a boy raised in a house full of words — Calvin's sermons, my stories, Mama's hymns — will learn to use words well whether he intends to or not.

CJ came home for a weekend visit, and I noticed he is thinner than he was in July. I did not say anything about it at first. I fed him. I put an extra pork chop on his plate. I cut a larger slice of pound cake. By Sunday dinner I had fed him enough for three people and then I said Calvin Junior, are you eating properly in Huntsville, and he said yes Mama, and I said the evidence suggests otherwise, and he laughed and said Mama I am fine, and I said fine is not a state of being I accept from my children, fine is what you say when you do not want your mother to worry. He ate another pork chop. The pork chop was my interrogation. It was also my answer.

Sunday evening was cool and clear, the first evening this season when you could sit on the porch and not be attacked by mosquitoes. Calvin and I sat out there with coffee and the quiet and watched the stars come out over Forestdale. I said Calvin, we have a good life. He said we do. I said it was not always good. He said no. But it is now. And it was enough.

That Sunday on the porch, with the cool air finally coming in and Calvin beside me and enough peace to notice the stars, I wanted to cook something that felt like exactly that—slow, patient, made with care, the kind of thing that fills a house with warmth before it ever fills a bowl. Chicken and wild rice soup is what I turn to when I need a recipe that does the same work a good conversation does: it takes its time, it doesn’t rush, and by the end you feel like something has been properly tended to. Here is how I make it.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 3 hours | Total Time: 3 hours 20 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 whole chicken (3 1/2 to 4 lbs)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
10 cups water (for the broth)
2 bay leaves
1 cup uncooked wild rice, rinsed
3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
3 stalks celery, sliced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves (from the pot on the windowsill, if you have one)
Salt and black pepper, to finish

Instructions

Roast the chicken. Preheat the oven to 425°F. Pat the chicken dry and rub all over with olive oil, dried thyme, rosemary, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Place breast-side up in a roasting pan and roast for 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until the juices run clear and the internal temperature reaches 165°F at the thigh. Let the bird rest for 15 minutes before handling.
Pull the meat and make the broth. Once the chicken is cool enough to touch, pull all the meat from the bones and set it aside in a bowl. Place the carcass, skin, and any pan drippings into a large stockpot. Add 10 cups of water and the bay leaves. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 1 hour, skimming any foam that rises. Strain the broth through a fine-mesh sieve and discard the bones. You should have about 8 cups of golden broth. Season it with salt.
Sauté the vegetables. In the same large pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery and cook for 6 to 8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent and the vegetables have softened slightly. Add the minced garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Add the rice and broth. Pour the strained broth into the pot with the vegetables. Add the rinsed wild rice. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook for 45 to 50 minutes, until the wild rice is tender and has begun to open and curl at the ends.
Finish with cream and chicken. Stir in the pulled chicken meat and the heavy cream. Add the fresh thyme leaves. Let the soup simmer uncovered for 5 minutes to bring everything together. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
Serve. Ladle into deep bowls. This soup is better the second day, so do not be sorry if you make it on Thursday morning and eat it again on Friday afternoon. That is the point.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken and Wild Rice Soup — The Three-Hour Bowl That Filled the House From the Inside Out on the First Cold Morning in Forestdale