
Chef Thomas
A Proper Chicken Broth
Sunday's roast chicken, simmered slowly on Monday with carrots, celery, leeks, and thyme into a bowl of clear, golden broth that smells like the kitchen is paying attention.
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Created by Chef Thomas
A bowl of spiced, golden broth thickened with lentils and apple, the kind of soup that crossed an ocean two centuries ago and found its way into the British kitchen because it belonged there.
The wind changed last week. Not dramatically, but enough that you noticed. The mornings are darker. The garden has given up on summer and started thinking about root vegetables. That's when this soup starts making sense.
Mulligatawny came from India to Britain by way of homesick officers and their cooks, and somewhere in the crossing it became something else entirely. The Tamil original, milagu tannir, means pepper water. What arrived in English kitchens kept the warmth but added lentils, apple, cream, whatever the larder suggested. Two hundred years of adaptation, and now it belongs here as much as it ever belonged anywhere. I won't pretend this is an Indian recipe. It isn't. It's a British one, with Indian memory running through it like a thread.
I make it when the first proper cold arrives, usually October, sometimes late September if the year turns early. The spices fill the kitchen with the kind of warmth that central heating can't replicate. The lentils dissolve into the broth and thicken it. The apple, a good sharp Bramley, gives it a sweet-sour quality that stops the whole thing feeling heavy. Chicken thighs cooked on the bone and then shredded back through. It's a generous bowl. The kind you eat slowly, both hands round the warm stoneware, while the evening settles in around you.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: "Mulligatawny. Tuesday. October rain. Fed four. Silence at the table, which is the best review a soup can get."
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 large
finely chopped
Quantity
2 sticks
finely chopped
Quantity
1 medium
peeled and finely chopped
Quantity
3 cloves
sliced
Quantity
thumb-sized piece
peeled and grated
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
half a teaspoon
Quantity
quarter teaspoon
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
100g
rinsed
Quantity
1 large
peeled, cored, and roughly chopped
Quantity
1 litre
Quantity
2
bone-in, skin-on
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
small handful
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| unsalted butter | 2 tablespoons |
| sunflower or vegetable oil | 1 tablespoon |
| onionfinely chopped | 1 large |
| celeryfinely chopped | 2 sticks |
| carrotpeeled and finely chopped | 1 medium |
| garlicsliced | 3 cloves |
| fresh gingerpeeled and grated | thumb-sized piece |
| medium curry powder | 1 tablespoon |
| ground coriander | 1 teaspoon |
| ground cumin | half a teaspoon |
| ground turmeric | quarter teaspoon |
| cayenne pepper | pinch |
| red lentilsrinsed | 100g |
| Bramley applepeeled, cored, and roughly chopped | 1 large |
| chicken stock | 1 litre |
| chicken thighsbone-in, skin-on | 2 |
| lemon juice | 1 tablespoon |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| fresh coriander leaves (optional) | small handful |
| natural yoghurt (optional) | to serve |
Melt the butter with the oil in a heavy-bottomed pan over a medium heat. When the butter foams, add the onion, celery, and carrot with a good pinch of salt. Stir them through the fat and turn the heat down. Let them soften for eight to ten minutes, stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent and the kitchen starts to smell sweet and calm. No colour. Patience here pays for everything that follows.
Add the garlic and ginger and stir for a minute until fragrant. Then add the curry powder, ground coriander, cumin, turmeric, and cayenne. Stir everything through the softened vegetables and let the spices cook in the fat for a full two minutes. You will know when they are ready because the smell will change, from raw and dusty to warm and round, something you want to lean into rather than pull back from. Trust your nose. It knows before you do.
Tip in the red lentils and the chopped apple. Stir them through the spiced vegetables so everything is coated. Pour in the stock and nestle the chicken thighs into the liquid, skin side up. Bring to a gentle simmer. Not a rolling boil. A quiet, steady blip. Put a lid on, slightly ajar, and let it cook for thirty-five to forty minutes. The lentils will dissolve into the broth, the apple will fall apart, and the chicken will be tender enough to pull from the bone without any resistance.
Lift the chicken thighs out onto a board. They will be very soft. Let them cool for a minute, then pull the meat from the bones in rough shreds, discarding the skin and bones. Set the shredded chicken aside.
Blend about half the soup with a stick blender, leaving the rest chunky. This gives you a broth that is thick enough to feel substantial but still has texture, somewhere between a smooth soup and a stew. Stir the shredded chicken back in. Add the lemon juice, then season with salt and pepper. Taste it. The lemon should brighten everything without announcing itself. If the soup tastes flat, it needs more salt. If it tastes dull, more lemon. Season and taste. Then taste again. Ladle into warm bowls. A spoonful of yoghurt, a scattering of coriander leaves if you have them, and bread on the side.
1 serving (about 450g)
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