Kitchen Sink Chicken Soup

Some recipes are handed down on tattered index cards, smudged with sauce and written in practically illegible cursive, while others evolve from pure necessity — using what you have to make something greater than the sum of its parts. Kitchen Sink Chicken Soup is a little bit of both. It’s old-school comfort meets modern-day resourcefulness with a hefty dose of hope stirred in.

I’ve gotten pretty good at what I call “kitchen foraging” — rummaging through all four corners of the fridge, cupboards and produce drawer to see what’s hanging on for dear life. It’s actually become kind of a fun challenge for me. Usually, there’s no shortage of veggies I once had great plans for that have now just become lesser, unappealing versions of themselves. I leave no stone unturned. Maybe that’s where Stone Soup came from — people pooling their odds and ends to make something hearty and delicious out of whatever is available. Thankfully, no boots here.

At the heart of everything is a small, whole chicken — skin on, bones intact — rinsed off and placed into a mesh strainer basket if you have one, nested into the pot. This makes the process so much easier when it’s time to remove the skin, bits and bones without too much hassle.

Surround it with whatever vegetables are left from the week. Onion and garlic skins stay on to give the broth that deeper hue and get every extra nutrient we can. Adding whole lemons, rind and all, because the oils and zest add brightness you just can’t get from juice alone. Add a head of garlic (or two) — smashed, skins intact — and your usual suspects like carrots and celery. I always add turmeric for its color and anti-inflammatory, immune-boosting warmth… trust me when I say: When it comes to turmeric, less is more.

Chicken soup’s reputation as a healer isn’t just folklore. Science backs it up, citing benefits from collagen, amino acids and that comforting warmth that opens sinuses and soothes the psyche. The long, slow simmer extracts the good stuff from bones and veggies, turning plain water into liquid gold.

Back when nothing went to waste and every ingredient had a purpose, soups like this became a staple of home kitchens. When I think back, I remember my mom’s kitchen usually having a pot simmering, full of bits and pieces she wouldn’t dream of tossing, and it seemed like culinary magic to me.

Ingredients:

1 whole, small chicken (skin on)
2 large onions, quartered (skins on)
2 whole lemons, halved and deseeded
2 heads of garlic (skins on)
5 large carrots (I prefer about 1-inch rounds)
5 celery stalks, chopped
2 bay leaves
Kale (or dark leafy greens of any kind), chopped cupfuls of however much you want — they boil down almost completely
Ginger (I usually have a halfway-dead, shriveled chunk hanging on for dear life)
Turmeric (a little goes a long way)
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup of farro or pearl couscous

Directions:

Place the whole bird in a large, stainless mesh basket inside your largest stockpot and surround it with onions, lemons, garlic, carrots, celery, ginger plus any herbs that have survived the seasons in your garden. Add turmeric, salt and pepper over everything. I find that the larger the veggie pieces, the more likely they’ll still be there after hours of simmering.
Cover with water until the ingredients are fully submerged. Sometimes I add Better Than Bouillon (chicken or garlic), depending on which I have — if any.
Bring to a boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cover and let cook for at least three hours, skimming any foam that rises to the top.
Carefully remove the basket with the chicken and let it cool slightly before shredding or dicing the meat, whichever suits you best. Strain the broth, discarding the spent vegetable skins and anything else you don’t want.
Return the chicken to the broth and adjust seasoning to your taste. This is when I add farro or pearl couscous — any whole grains you have. You can use potatoes or egg noodles, too — anything you have for starch works. This is why every batch is unique.

Just like the idea behind Stone Soup — a communal pot full of various contributions — this soup brings together whatever odds and ends you’ve got, transforming them into a bowl of comfort and nourishment. It’s about making the most of what you have, letting time and intention work their magic and sharing it with those you love.

Final Thought:

This soup has a little bit of everything — just like life. You throw it all in, let it simmer and somehow it all comes together. Just remember, when life gives you lemons… throw them in whole.

This article appears in The Source Weekly March 20, 2025.