Cold Lipton’s Chicken Noodle Soup with Mouldy Bread: A Struggle Meal

Let’s be honest, folks. Life isn’t always a perfectly orchestrated symphony of perfectly poached eggs and precisely measured herbs. Sometimes, it’s a little… chaotic. And sometimes, it’s a little *deliciously* chaotic. Today’s dish? A Chicken Noodle Soup, born from a moment of desperate resourcefulness and a very specific brand of stubbornness. It’s a soup that demands patience, a little bit of luck, and a whole lot of cold. It’s a challenge, really, a little bit of a struggle, but the payoff? It’s profoundly satisfying. I’ve been experimenting with this recipe for years, chasing the ghost of a forgotten childhood memory – a simpler time, fueled by late-night cooking and a somewhat unhealthy obsession with Lindsay Lohan’s *Freaky Friday.* It's a little… evocative, isn’t it?

The Story Behind the Soup (And the Mould)

The inspiration started with a late-night craving, a particularly dreary Tuesday. I was feeling adrift, staring at a bowl of wilting spinach and contemplating the sheer volume of beige in my life. My grandmother, bless her soul, used to make chicken noodle soup. But hers was *perfect*. It was warm, comforting, and smelled like sunshine and home. I wanted to capture that feeling, that fundamental warmth, but with a slightly… darker edge. This soup, born of a fridge raid and a stubbornness I hadn't known I possessed, became a symbol of that journey. The mouldy bread? A tangible reminder of a time when things weren't quite as shiny as they seemed.

I’ve spent countless hours tweaking this recipe, searching for that elusive balance between taste and texture. The key, I’ve discovered, isn’t a perfectly crafted recipe. It’s about embracing the imperfections. It’s about letting the ingredients speak to you, even if they resist your attempts at control.

Ingredients

• 1.5 lbs Chicken, bone-in, skin-on (the chicken is the canvas, after all.)
• 1 tbsp Olive Oil
• 1 large Onion, chopped
• 2 Carrots, peeled and chopped
• 2 Celery stalks, chopped
• 6 cups Chicken Broth (homemade is best, but a good quality store-bought will do)
• 1 tsp Dried Thyme
• 1/2 tsp Dried Rosemary
• 1/4 tsp Black Pepper
• 1/2 tsp Salt (adjust to taste)
• 4-6 slices Mouldy Bread (the *crucial* element – and the one that requires a bit of… ingenuity.)
• Fresh Parsley, chopped (for garnish – and a touch of green, a reminder of life’s little comforts)

Steps

1. Heat the olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat.
2. Add the onion, carrots, and celery and sauté until softened, about 5-7 minutes. Don't rush this step - patience is key.
3. Add the chicken and cook until browned on all sides. This isn’t about perfection; it’s about a little bit of character.
4. Pour in the chicken broth. Bring to a simmer.
5. Add the thyme, rosemary, and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings. Remember, a little salt and pepper can make all the difference.
6. Once the chicken is cooked through, add the carrots and celery. Simmer for 15-20 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld.
7. Just before serving, crumble the bread over the soup. It’s important to let it get a little soggy – that’s where the magic happens.
8. Garnish with fresh parsley.

Why This Is a Struggle Meal

This soup isn't about ease. It’s about confronting the unexpected. It’s about accepting that sometimes, the most rewarding experiences are the ones that require a little bit of stubbornness, a little bit of improvisation, and a whole lot of patience. It’s a reminder that beautiful things often emerge from challenging situations. And it’s a reminder that even the most meticulously crafted recipe can benefit from a little bit of… mess.

Let me know in the comments below if you've ever attempted a similar challenge! And if you've ever accidentally created a soup that's gloriously, wonderfully imperfect – share it with me!

Happy cooking, my friends.

Kolbeigh van Keuken

P.S. – Seriously, don’t be afraid to embrace the mould. It adds a certain… depth. (Just kidding… mostly.)