Monday, October 14, 2013

Chicken Soup For The Lazy, Good-Fer-Nuthin' Soul

 This is an actual recipe for chicken soup. Sort of. So if you're here looking for wisdom, you'll be disappointed. Probably.

Before you start, you should maybe get yourself into the state I am usually in: extreme physical boredom combined with mental exhaustion. It might help to look for a job for about a year and not find one. Feel really poor and worthless for several months. Have some not-that-serious-but-still-horrifying health issues during that time. It will help if you have a semi-crippling untreated anxiety disorder.

Start to wonder if your life will ever amount to anything. Become lazier than you've ever been in your life. Sort of hate yourself for it, but feel so much apathy and ennui that you can't bring yourself to do anything about it.


Great! Now you can begin!

Step 1: Go to Wal-Mart with your husband. Have the idea to make chicken soup as he's parking the truck, because it's easy and cheap. Ask him what goes in chicken soup, and put that shit in the cart. Also get a chicken. That part is important.

It may improve the quality and flavor of your chicken soup if you buy one of those fancy, cage-free, unvaccinated chickens that did Pilates every day and got weekly massages and learned philosophy from a Cambodian monk. Those chickens are about $1.50 more, so put it in the cart when your husband isn't looking because who wants to have that argument again.

This is a Google image search result for "philosophical chicken."

Step 2: Go home and watch "The Walking Dead" while eating leftover pork chops. (You may be one of those people who can't eat while watching zombies get their gelatinous heads stomped on. That would make you a big pussy.)

After the show's over, write an article and apply for some jobs. Then realize at about midnight that you should probably find a chicken soup recipe. Hit up Pinterest, and three minutes later decide you've found the winning recipe because it is quite possibly the easiest one you have ever seen.

Only slightly less easy than my husband's favorite recipe, "Place donuts on plate."

Step 3: Take your chicken out of the fridge. It will probably be wrapped in a little plastic chicken suit, unless you killed your own chicken out in the yard, in which case you go, girl. But you probably have a grocery store chicken, so take something sharp and pierce the plastic and make a grossed-out face as the grody chicken water pours out into the sink.

Someone thoughtfully placed the chicken's internal organs in a plastic bag and shoved them up its ass. Throw that shit away. Pat the chicken dry with paper towels inside and out for some reason, and put some sea salt and black pepper on that bitch.

I wasn't calling you a bitch, Pepper, calm down.

Step 4: Put the chicken in a slow cooker turned on low and cover it most of the way with water. Now take two cloves of garlic, pierce them with your sharp-ass fingernails so the garlic juice can get out, and throw them ho'z in there. Also same bay leaves, and maybe a spoonful of Better Than Broth, even though it's beef flavor, because meat is meat.

Step 5: Stay up until 5:00 in the morning. Not because you want to, but because you don't get enough exercise and your brain never calms down. Do some Internet and writing. Become convinced Satan himself invented Candy Crush Saga. Semi-watch two episodes of "30 Rock" and three episodes of "Frasier" while trying to reorganize the scenes in your novel, but give up because your right bottom eyelid is twitching from allergies or a brain tumor and every time it twitches your vision moves just the tiniest bit and you're about ready to poke your own eyeball out.

Go to bed at 4:52 a.m., and accidentally wake your husband up somehow, even though he's usually a deep sleeper, and listen to him make annoyed noises and get up to pee while you drift off to sleep.

Step 6: Wake up at 11:18 a.m. with dry eyes and mouth from the Zyrtec you took last night. Drink two glasses of water. Take your medicine. Now it's noon, and you're ready to do more shit with your soup.

So get a big-ass spoon and take the lid off your crock pot. The top of your chicken will probably still be above the water, and you'll think, "This doesn't look like chicken soup." Have faith, my child. Stir the chicken. It will fall completely to pieces, and you will now have a bubbling, delicious-smelling cauldron of shredded chickeny goodness.

This is a Google image search result for "chickeny goodness."

Step 7: Obtain a knife and chop your vegetables. Use the kind of vegetables you like. I don't know your life. I used three carrots, six celeries, one potato and half a big yellow onion. I chopped them into big pieces, because I am lazy, but I'm just going to call the soup Rustic, so it's fine.

If you wanna carb it up and make it a little thicker and heartier, add 1/2 cup of rice to that bad boy.

Now put in some spices. A word on spices: on my 24th birthday, a drunk chef was hitting on me at a bar, and he told me a little secret. The secret was: when you cook, just put all the spices in there. Just throw 'em all in. I didn't know if Drunk Horny Chef was joking or not, but I tried it, and I got excellent results.

My over-analytical mind won't let me throw all the spices in there, but I do throw a lot of spices in there. And it always works. Oh, and I also put in some grated fresh ginger. Because ginger is fuckin' delicious, y'all. And curry powder! It's the best.

I also added another spoonful of Better Than Broth. Because I go hard.

Step 8: Let your soup cook for another 6 to 8 hours. Then use some tongs or a spoon - or your hand, if you're Wolverine - to scoop out the bones. They'll be easy to find because everything else in the cooker is soft.

Now add some more sea salt to taste. It always needs more salt.

Then put it in a bowl and eat it. It will be thick and ricey, almost like a stew, and also chickeny and salty and hearty and hot and delicious. And while it took 18 to 20 hours to cook, almost all of that 18 to 20 hours was spent sleeping and watching TV. So it's the perfect soup for the lazy.

It's also cheap as hell. And makes a LOT of food so you won't have to cook again for a couple days.

You can go to the Nourished Kitchen website if you want and read the recipe that inspired my recipe, or you can just read mine below if, like me, the word "nourish" makes you want to punch yourself in the face.

UPDATE: After eating two giant bowls of this stuff, here are some things I should mention.

1. It is not really soup. It's more like... stuff. My husband and I can't figure out what to call it. Ghoulash? Stew? I put 3/4 cup of rice in mine, so if you want a more soupy soup, skip or cut back on the rice and corn starch. If you like your soup more like stuff than soup - which is to say, thick and hearty - stick to the recipe.

2. There are tiny bones all throughout this shit. It's kind of annoying, but worth it because it's so good. I wouldn't feed this to small children. But this is chicken soup for lazy people, so of course it has bones in it. If you want to be less lazy, debone the chicken first (sucker) or spend lots of money on boneless chicken (bigger sucker). You get the benefits of bone broth when you eat this, which is super good for you.

3. This is great for people with no teeth. It's soft and mushy.

Rustic Chicken Soup Stuff


(Pretty much all the ingredients are optional, besides the chicken.)

1 whole chicken, philosophical or regular
1/2 c. rice
1 potato
6 ribs celery
3 carrots
1/2 yellow onion
1 tumor-size knob ginger
2 cloves garlic
2 spoonfuls Better Than Broth
1/2 tsp. corn starch
Salt, pepper, sage, curry powder, and other spices to taste


Pat the chicken dry and season with salt and pepper.
Put the chicken, enough water to mostly cover the chicken, 1 spoonful of the broth, the bay leaves and garlic in your slow cooker.
Cook on low for 12 hours.
Stir and add remaining ingredients.
Cook on low 6-8 more hours.
Scoop out the bones.
Season to taste.

1 comment:

  1. I don't know your life. Tumor ginger. The only thing better than this blog post is the feeling I get when I sit down at night after my kids finally go to sleep. This made me laugh hard, like you "go hard" with the better than broth cause meat is meat. I'm not sure what made me laugh the hardest actually. It's all of it, and now I'm gonna go read it again while you probably listen to a smart sounding computer voice teach you how not to speed. How are there not any other comments on this?