The Backstory: A Stew That Feels Like Home

If I had a dollar for every time I made this chicken stew during a chilly weekend, I’d probably, well… still be out grocery shopping, but at least I’d be warm. I first learned to make this from my mum, in her tiny kitchen that somehow always smelled like thyme—or maybe it was just leftover from the roast beef (big mistake mixing those two up, by the way; but that’s another story). chicken stew was one of those things we’d make as a late-afternoon project, sort of by accident—usually because the chicken defrosted in the fridge longer than we’d expected. Anyway, this recipe’s been with me through midnight snacks, random Tuesday dinners, and even one ill-advised summer heatwave when someone (me) just really needed comfort food. Oh, and don’t get me started on the time my cat tried to steal a drumstick straight form the pot. The nerve!

Why You’ll Love This (Or, Why I Keep Making It)

So here’s the deal: I make this when the weather starts nipping at my ankles or someone’s coming over who needs cheering up. My family goes absolutely nuts for it—except my brother, who claims it’s too hearty, but you can’t trust a guy who puts ketchup on everything, right? But really, it’s the sort of meal that just fills the kitchen with this comfortable, everything’s-okay vibe. And you can chuck the ingredients in with only half your brain switched on—always a bonus after a long day. You know those recipes that claim to use one pot, but you wind up with every dish dirty? This isn’t one of them (mostly).

What You’ll Need (Ingredients… more or less)

1 whole chicken (cut up, or seriously, I sometimes use just thighs if that’s what I have—my grandmother would be scandalized)
2 large onions, chopped—you can get away with one if the tears get to be too much
4 carrots, sliced (baby carrots work in a pinch)
3 celery stalks, chopped (sometimes I leave this out when I can’t be bothered, don’t tell anyone)
3-4 potatoes, peeled & chunked (but I’ve used sweet potatoes before and it was… surprisingly good)
3 garlic cloves, minced (or a big ol’ spoonful of the jarred stuff—hey, we’ve all been there)
2 bay leaves (I swear by them, but if you forget, no one will hunt you down)
1 tsp dried thyme (my cousin insists on fresh, but I can’t always be that fancy)
Salt and pepper (just eyeball it—it’s stew, not rocket science)
5 cups chicken broth (honestly, water + bouillon cube has rescued me more than once)
A handful of frozen peas (optional, but it makes it look pretty and green)

Let’s Get Cooking (Directions, With Sidetracks)

Heat a big heavy pot—Dutch oven if you’ve got one (if not, honestly any deep pot works) over medium heat. Add a splash of oil and brown the chicken pieces on all sides. This is where I usually sneak a chunk for “quality control.” Remove and set aside.
Toss in the onions and cook till they look a bit see-through and start smelling sweet. If you’re feeling energetic, add a pinch of salt here; if not, it’s not the end of the world.
Stir in the garlic, carrots, and celery. Stir for a couple minutes until everything’s getting along together. I love this part because the kitchen just smells so reassuring (but don’t let the garlic burn—it gets cranky fast).
Plop the chicken back in, nestle the potatoes around, then throw in bay leaves and thyme. Pour in the broth (or water + bouillon cube, see above), and scrape the bottom of the pot with your spoon—gets all those tasty bits up. This is the part that might look suspiciously bland. Don’t worry. It’ll get there.
Bring it all up to a gentle boil, then turn the heat down. Pop a lid on, but leave a little gap for steam. Simmer for about an hour—or, if you’re like me, forget about it and come back 90 minutes later. The chicken should be falling off the bone. (If it isn’t, give it more time. No stew police are judging.)
Fish out the bay leaves (I always forget at least one). Toss in the peas near the end so they stay bright. Taste for salt and pepper. You could try to skim off some fat; or not—it’s homemade, let’s not stress.

(Optional, if you want it thicker) Mash a couple potato chunks right in the pot; makes it lovely and hearty. Or skip this if you prefer it soupy.

Notes (Honest Discoveries)

Definitely don’t rush the simmering stage; I once did and the chicken came out weirdly tough (not recommended).
I’ve tried adding parsnips and honestly, not my thing. But maybe you’ll love them?
If you forget to peel the potatoes, it’s really not a big deal. Rustic charm, right?
Fresh herbs do make it brighter, but most days, dried is what I grab because…life.

Things I’ve Tweaked (Some Successes, Mostly Wins)

Swapped half the chicken for turkey once. It was fine—bit gamier, but nothing tragic.
One time, I dumped in a can of white beans instead of peas; surprisingly solid choice.
Tried thickening with cornstarch—eh, wasn’t my favorite. Gave it a weird glossy look. Wouldn’t repeat.
On second thought, adding a splash of cream at the end actually made it rich—but that’s definitely a treat, not for everyday.

What If You Don’t Have the Right Pot? (Equipment Thoughts)

So the best is a big Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot. But I’ve honestly made it in a chipped old saucepan before (just stir more often because it’s prone to sticking—learned that the hard way). Crockpot? Yep, dump everything in; just brown the chicken first if you want extra flavor, but no one’s going to throw shade if you don’t. And as for sharp knives—sometimes I use my “fancy” one, sometimes the blunt one. Both get the job done (mostly… watch your fingers!)

How to Store This (If You Have Leftovers…)

Scoop leftovers into an airtight container and stick in the fridge. Should be good for 2-3 days, maybe even four. It actually thickens up in the fridge and I (personally) think it tastes better the next day. But, honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day! Freezes fine too—just don’t forget to label it, or you’ll end up reheating stew when you thought it was chili. Not that I’ve ever done that…

How We Serve It (And You Should, Too… Or Not)

My personal favorite: ladle it over a hunk of crusty sourdough (even supermarket stuff does the trick). My kids insist on a sprinkle of cheese (I blame cartoons). Sometimes we just eat it as is, straight from the pot, which feels like camping in your own kitchen. Oh, and bonus: it’s unbeatable with a splash of vinegar on top—super old-school, but so good.

Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way (Pro Tips… Kinda)

Don’t try to cook this on high to save time—it just makes the chicken unhappy. Trust me, I regretted it because it turned rubbery.
Avoid stirring too much after the potatoes soften—unless you LIKE your stew extra mushy, in which case, have at it.
If you’re in a rush and skip browning the chicken, the flavor is… well, fine, but you’ll kinda know what you missed.

Questions Friends Have Actually Asked Me (FAQ)

Can I use boneless chicken?
Yup! I’ve done it when I’m being lazy. It cooks faster; just watch it doesn’t dry out. Actually, thighs stay juicier than breast.
What if I don’t have thyme?
Honestly, toss in whatever herby thing you have—sage, parsley, or even Italian seasoning. It won’t ruin anything.
Can I make this vegetarian?
Sure! Use a bunch of mushrooms or even tofu, veggie broth, throw in extra veggies. It’s not exactly the same, but still comfort food.
What’s the best way to reheat?
Low and slow on the stove. Don’t microwave it for too long or the potatoes get weirdly chewy (ask me how I know!).
How do you get it thick?
Just mash a few potatoes right in the pot. Or, if you want, use a flour-butter paste, but that’s more work than I bother with, usually.

Anyway, if you make this, let me know what goes splendidly—or what goes a bit sideways. Those are always the stories I remember. Happy stewing, folks.

Old Fashioned Chicken Stew