Creamy Turkey Noodle Soup

Hurricane Irma is heading for Florida and everyone in the Southeast is holding their breath. Patricia is in Jacksonville, which is directly in the path, and I have called her six times since Monday. She says they're prepared — they have water and batteries and Wayne boarded the windows. I said, "Patricia, you come to Savannah." She said, "Mama, Savannah might get hit too." She's not wrong. The weather maps look like someone threw spaghetti at the wall and none of it is pointing anywhere good.

I did what I do when the world is terrifying: I cooked. I made a huge pot of chicken soup — the kind that fills six Tupperware containers — and put it in the freezer. I baked bread. I filled every container I own with water. I charged the flashlights and found the candles and moved Hattie Pearl's skillet to the highest shelf, because if this house floods, that skillet is the last thing going under. Earl watched me prepare and said, "You're worried." I said, "I'm prepared. There's a difference." There isn't, but I needed to believe there was.

The Lowcountry Boil at First African is in two weeks and nobody knows if it's going to happen. You can't have a boil in a hurricane. You can't have a boil if the church parking lot is underwater. But I am planning it anyway because planning is my response to chaos. If the storm comes, we'll postpone. If the storm doesn't come, we'll have the best boil yet, because nothing seasons a feast like the relief of having been spared.

Kayla called from school. She's tracking the hurricane the way nursing students track a hurricane — with clinical precision and barely contained anxiety. She said, "Grandma, if they say evacuate, you evacuate. You don't stay and fight the storm." I said, "Kayla, I am sixty-two years old and I was not planning on fistfighting a hurricane." She didn't laugh. She's worried. They all are. When you love people who are spread across the Southeast and a category-five hurricane is spinning through the Caribbean, worry is the only rational response. That and soup.

Now go on and prepare to feed somebody. Stock your pantry. Fill your water. And if the worst comes, remember: you can cook by candlelight if you have to. I have. I will again.

The chicken soup I made during those long days before the storm was this kind of soup — a pot so big it could feed a neighborhood, ladled into container after container and stacked in the freezer like a promise that we would be all right. I’ve made it with turkey just as often as chicken, because when you’re cooking against fear, you use what you have. This creamy turkey noodle soup is the one I reach for when I need to feel prepared: it holds up in the freezer, it reheats over a gas burner or a camp stove, and it tastes like someone who loves you made it on purpose. That’s exactly what I did.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
3 stalks celery, sliced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
8 cups low-sodium chicken or turkey broth
1 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
3 cups cooked turkey, shredded or chopped (rotisserie or leftover works well)
3 cups wide egg noodles, uncooked
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

Sauté the vegetables. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt the butter with the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until the vegetables have softened and the onion is translucent. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Build the base. Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and stir well to coat everything evenly. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring constantly, to eliminate the raw flour taste.
Add the broth. Slowly pour in the broth, whisking or stirring as you go to prevent lumps. Bring to a gentle boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
Season and simmer. Stir in the thyme, rosemary, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Let the soup simmer uncovered for 10 minutes, allowing the broth to thicken slightly and the flavors to come together.
Add noodles and turkey. Add the egg noodles and shredded turkey to the pot. Stir to combine. Continue simmering for 8–10 minutes, or until the noodles are tender and cooked through.
Finish with cream. Reduce heat to low. Stir in the milk and heavy cream. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional salt and pepper as needed. Do not boil after adding the dairy — just heat through gently for 2–3 minutes.
Serve or store. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley. To freeze, cool completely before portioning into airtight containers. The soup keeps in the refrigerator for 4 days and in the freezer for up to 3 months. If the noodles absorb too much liquid after storing, add a splash of broth when reheating.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Turkey Noodle Soup — The Pot I Make When I Need to Feel Ready for Anything