How-To Guides

How to Make Chicken Broth

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Chicken broth served in a casserole dish at the table, with cavolo nero, farro and vegetables visible

How to Make Chicken Broth: I adore a bowl of chicken broth. It’s a regular feature on our midweek dinner table, warming, nourishing, and deceptively simple. The clarity and depth of flavour, though, are hard-won and demand care and attention, which only adds to the pleasure of making it.

The ingredients vary with the seasons and your mood. I like to add a carbohydrate, such as rice, pasta, or another grain, to give it more substance. On this occasion, I used seasonal cavolo nero and turnips, layered over a classic mirepoix of carrots, celery, onions, and garlic. The key is drawing as much flavour as possible from that base. We often finish the broth with a splash of oloroso just before serving.

Prep time: 20 minutes

Cook time: 3.5 hours

Ingredients

Stock

Broth

Method

To Make the Stock

  1. Take the carcass, drumsticks, and any other bones or trim from the jointed chicken, saving the thighs and breasts for another use, and place in a pot. Just cover with cold water.
  2. Set the pot over a high heat and bring to the boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer. After 15 minutes, skim the surface with a spoon to remove any foam or scum.
  3. Add the fennel seeds, peppercorns, garlic, bay leaf, and a pinch of salt. Simmer gently, lid ajar, for 2½ to 3 hours.
  4. Turn off the heat and leave to sit for 20 minutes before straining through a fine sieve.

To Cook the Broth

  1. Set a medium pan over a medium heat and add a generous glug of olive oil. Add the onion, carrots, celery, garlic and bay leaf. Season well with sea salt, reduce the heat to low and cook gently for 15 minutes with the lid on, stirring regularly.
  2. Strip the cavolo nero leaves from their stalks. Finely chop the stalks and add to the pan along with the diced turnips. Cook for a further 10 minutes, stirring regularly.
  3. Roughly chop the cavolo nero leaves and add them to the pan along with the strained stock and farro. Season with salt and black pepper, bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 20 minutes.
  4. Taste and adjust the seasoning as needed with moscatel vinegar and a little more salt.

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For 15 years, George worked in some of London’s most loved restaurants, including Padella and Primeur, and spent five years as Head Chef at the Garden Museum Café. He earned praise for his simple, thoughtful cooking, with dishes rooted in the classics and always respectful of the ingredients.

In 2021, George realised a long-held ambition with the release of his first cookbook, A Year in the Kitchen. It celebrates the annual cookery cycle, guiding readers through the British seasons, showcasing native produce and encouraging creativity year-round.

In 2022, George left London and returned to his native Yorkshire. His passion for seasonal cooking and respect for quality British ingredients have remained central to his work. Like his food, George is led by the seasons, open to new opportunities and always following his heart.

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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
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Follow
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
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Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
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