I made chicken noodle soup and so can you
Your body is a battlefield. Instead of explosions and gunshots, however, cells burst and are consumed by other cells. It would be very exciting if our eyes had one of those magnifying wheels like on microscopes. But alas, we are denied that one small pleasure and instead must suffer. Head stuffy, joints achey, throat inflamed and tender. Being sick is no fun.
However, we must not concede the field too quickly. We can marshall our resources. Fortifying lemsip, hot lemonade, saladas, bad yet funny cartoon shows. And of course, the greatest invention since sliced bread, chicken noodle soup.
Deploy the aldi le creuset casserole. Marvel at the economy of everyone’s favourite bargain supermarket, with everyday classics such as Cørn Flarkes and Végëmità, and nine kilogram bags of slightly used parsnips for only $5.
Into the pan, pour a few litres of freshly reconstituted chicken stock. Slide in as much chicken as you could get defrosted in time for soup making. I used thighs, but drumsticks, wings, and of course the gold standard of a whole chicken would be sehr gut.
Now raid the pantry for things that would impart deliciousness. Lemongrass—suitably bruised—garlic—smashed into near oblivion—ginger—turned into match sticks—kaffir lime leaves—roughly torn—and the top green parts of a friendly neighbourhood leek. Into the pot these go, joining the chicken and stock.
Apply heat. Heat, as it is often forgotten, is the key to cooking. Bring to a boil, then a simmer, then put a lid on and wait for an hour or so. Maybe less. Maybe more. Look, this isn’t rocket science. It’s chicken soup science, infinitely more useful.
When the liquid is suitably flavourful, remember as a sick chap your usually acute sense of taste is numb, evacuate the chicken into a bowl. Then with the aid of another larger bowl, a strainer, and your Other to assist—a cold makes for weak upper body strength—separate the golden liquid from the detritus. Be not sad, as it has completed its duty. Thanks ingredients, thingredients.
Return the clear liquid to the pot. Hum a dirge while you mash the flavour pottage to extract every last iota of flavour.
Cube, or shred if the idea of a world without the rule of law is somehow appealing, the chicken. Put aside. Thinly slice a leek. Thinly dice carrots. Retrieve with dignity some frozen corn from the ice chest. Put the vegetables into the soup. Allow to float and gently cook.
When the vegetables are almost soft, put the chicken back in the pot.
For the noodle part of the dish, take a packet of noodles. We used thin hokkein. Slice into appropriate five to eight cm ribbons. Then into the pot with them.
This is a good time to put one’s head over the pot and inhale deeply. When politicians say they never inhaled, they must never have had chicken soup this good.
It is also a good time to add some more flavour. A few tablespoons of soy, shaoxing wine, and perhaps one tablespoon of fish sauce.
Stir up everything, but with a risotto like lovingness, not a harsh vinaigrette like whisk.
Ladle generous serves into comforting bowls. Sprinkle with sesame oil and thinly sliced shallots.
It does a body good.
