Judith Lerner’s Chicken Soup

Ingredients

1 Whole Empire or organic chicken
A good handful whole curly parsley on stalks, well washed, remove before serving
A few whole stalks dill weed, well washed, remove before serving
2-3 Apples, whole, Remove before serving
3 Bay Leaves, remove before serving
3 Carrots, Peeled and Sliced
3 Small Parsnips, peeled and sliced (optional)
1/2 to 1 cup Turnips or Rutabaga, Peeled and diced (optional)
3 3 large celery stalks with leaves, sliced
1 pound onions, sliced
2 or to taste whole, unpeeled garlic cloves
1 large leek including the green parts, well cleaned, sliced
1 teaspoon sea salt or 2 teaspoons Kosher salt
Pinch of Cayenne

Directions

water to cover well
garnish finely minced fresh curly parsley and dillweed
garnish: lukshen/noodles, farfel/chopped noodles or mandlen/baked soup nuts, preferably homemade
Prepare soup a day ahead. Soup will be best if all ingredients are organic.
Tie parsley and dill stalks together in a bunch. Bring all ingredients except garnishes gently to a boil. This produces better flavors and textures than bringing rapidly to a boil.
Cover. Lower heat to simmer. Cook slowly two or three hours to develop rich flavor. Skim foam if you like; I do not do this.
Chill overnight. Remove most but not all of the congealed fat. A few drops of fat between the garnishes in each soup bowl is traditional.
Gently reheat. Remove apple skins -- the apple pulp will have melted into the soup -- bay leaves, parsley & dill before serving. Serve in wide, flat bowls garnished as desired.

Prep time: 30 minutes
Cook time: 90 minutes to 3 hours
Total time: 1 hour 20 minutes - 3+ hours

Yield: Serves 6 to 8

Categories: Heirloom Recipes, Special Diets

Tags: Judith Lerner, chicken soup, traditional chicken soup

The Story

Winter is a season of great quiet. It entices me both to lie low and to make things. I have 16 1/2 windows and two skylights in my kitchen/dining/living/workroom through which I watch snow fall and wind blow as I cook, eat, read, write, visit with friends.
Some evenings I curl up on my rocking recliner, under my flannel-covered down quilt, with piles of my old clipping-filled cookbooks and classics I like to acquire. I want to add something to chicken soup besides to the usual suspects. Or, I’m looking for the perfect banana bread.
I just might just wake up in the morning -- or the middle of the night -- thinking, "ginger in the chicken soup," or of a new soup entirely or invent a chili and call a dinner party.
While I’m reading, a pot of pasta sauce might burble on my stove, based on my mother’s old-fashioned recipe using a pound of onion and a head of garlic for each pound of meat but with more herbs than she knew the names of. Or I’m looking up all the salsa cruda recipes I can find while that chicken soup is giving up its flavors and aroma.
Although she did not use many herbs or spices mother was a consistently good cook. Onion and garlic, butter and salt were her main flavorings. She baked fish on a bed of onions. Every night her salad dressing was shaken with a clove of garlic. Onions, scallions or olives zipped up the salad. She stuffed slivers of garlic into little slits she poked all over sirloins and Sunday’s roasts. And she rubbed butter and garlic powder all over the chicken, capon, duck and turkey before broiling it or roasting it over onions and potatoes.
Aroma. As a child my bedroom was above the kitchen. Irresistible odors wafted upstairs from mother’s lamb stew, potato soup, moist, tender meatloaf and those Sunday roasts. These smells strongly shaped my culinary expectations.
Mother cooked nearly 20,000 meals for our family and they were always absolutely delicious. However, we children often complained about them.
“Oh, Mommy! Steak again?!!”
Kids!
Eating was valued and rewarded in my family. Eventually, I became the best eater willing to try anything and usually enjoying it although roasted ants and bumblebees are just not for me no matter how many times I taste them.
My mother was an artist of food. She cooked with ease, apparently intuitively, and never wanted any help -- her kitchen was her domain. I taught myself to cook as a bond with her.
A lifetime of eating fresh food from all over the world has made me more adventurous than she so my chicken soup has morphed.
Starting with mother's basics, the usual chicken soup suspects are: an organic, natural or kosher chicken -- try a roasted chicken sometime; 1 teaspoon sea salt or to taste (I do not use black pepper in chicken soup, it remains too distinct); 2 or 3 large sliced or chopped onions; some well-washed sliced leeks, green parts and all; peeled carrot chunks or slices; celery chunks or slices including leaves; maybe a chopped turnip or a bit of rutabaga; a small, peeled, thinly sliced parsnip, a couple of whole apples for sweetness -- they will melt into the soup.
A handful of fresh parsley on the stem, a few bay leaves, some peppercorns, a couple of whole, unpeeled cloves of garlic may all be wrapped in layers of cheesecloth and tied with string, a twist tie or a rubberband to be removed before serving.
I might add a sliced bulb and/or stalks of fennel. This does not make the soup licorice-y, it adds subtle sweetness to the celery. I might also include grated, unpeeled fresh ginger to the bag of seasonings -- maybe an inch worth -- and a whole, fresh jalapeño or Serrano pepper for sparkle and health; one hot pepper that will be removed will make the soup lively, not spicy.

Recipe by Carole Murko

A tablespoon of cider vinegar or fresh lemon juice, added at the end of cooking, brightens the soup’s flavor and marries its complexities. Cover all with water and cook until the chicken is soft, 90 minutes to 3 hours, depending on your mood. Exact quantities are up to you. Use a big pot. Leftovers freeze well.