Creamy Herb Chicken & Basmati Rice: My Fuss-Free Comfort Dinner

Let Me Tell You About This Creamy Herb Chicken & Basmati Rice

So you know those nights when you open the fridge and stare in, hoping dinner will sort of just jump out and make itself? Yeah, this is my go-to for exactly those nights, except a bit more exciting because, well, it actually gets made and doesn’t taste like “just stuff I found.” My Auntie Cath brought something like this to a family picnic once—hers was a little lumpy, which is why I never trusted potlucks for years (sorry, Auntie). But when I gave it a spin at home the next week, tossed in a heap of fresh parsley and honestly a not-small splash of cream, things got out-of-this-world good. Oh, and if you spill the herbs everywhere like I do, the kitchen looks almost, uh, rustic.

Why You’ll Love This (Or At Least Why I Do)

I mostly make this when I’m dead tired, my patience is thin, and I need something that feels like a splashy treat with minimal faff. The chicken sort of melts into the sauce (if you don’t overcook it—I learned that one the face-palm way), and the basmati gets beautifully fluffy and smells like you’re fancier than you are. My lot absolutely demolishes this, even when I don’t bother with the garnish. Although, there was that one time I used way too much tarragon and honestly, the dog turned up her nose. Anyway, it’s forgiving. And you can clean up after dinner in the time it takes to scroll through two TikToks.

What You’ll Need to Make It Happen

• 2 chicken breasts (thighs work, too—actually, I use thighs half the time because they’re forgiving and, let’s face it, always on sale)
• A cup of basmati rice (that’s about 200g, but I just use my tea mug sometimes—works fine)
• 1 cup double cream (use single if you like it lighter, or coconut milk if dairy isn’t your friend)
• 1 onion, diced
• 2 fat cloves garlic, minced. Or a teaspoon of that lazy garlic paste. We’ve all been there.
• About a cup of mixed fresh herbs, chopped (parsley, thyme, dill—honestly, whatever you’ve got; dried works in a pinch but you’ll want less)
• 2 tbsp olive oil or butter (Grandma swore by Lurpak, but really just don’t burn whatever fat you use)
• 1 tbsp lemon juice (when I remember to buy lemons… vinegar actually isn’t bad!)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Optional: A handful of frozen peas or spinach if you want greenery

Alright, Here’s How You Make It

1. Get your rice on the go first—rinse it if you remember (I usually forget and it’s fine), then cook in double its volume of water with a pinch of salt. Lid on, simmer, don’t peek for 12-14 mins. If it sticks a bit, just scrape—no one notices under the saucy chicken anyway.
2. Heat the oil or butter in a wide pan over medium-high until it’s shimmering (or bubbling, if you lean buttery), then chuck in the chicken with a generous slug of salt and pepper. Sear it until crispy and golden – about 4 minutes a side. Don’t worry if it’s a bit wonky-shaped. This is not MasterChef.
3. Lob in your onion and cook until soft—less than 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook another minute. Actually, I find it works better if you turn down the heat a bit here so nothing burns while you scroll Instagram.
4. Pour in the cream and around half your herbs. This is when I’ll usually sneak a taste. Bring just up to a simmer—watch, because cream boils over faster than you can say “goodbye to a clean stovetop.” Chicken goes back in if you removed it for deglazing.
5. Squeeze over the lemon juice; toss in the peas or spinach if you’re using ‘em. Give things a gentle stir. Cook another 5-7 minutes until sauce is cozy-thick and chicken’s just cooked through—don’t go checking too soon, though, unless you fancy dry chicken bits.
6. Fluff up your rice with a fork. Has anyone ever figured out why I only remember to do this half the time?
7. Spoon rice onto plates, top with that gorgeous saucy chicken, then finish off with your remaining herbs. Eat now, or let it sit for a bit—it honestly tastes even better an hour later, I think.

Real-World Notes From Too Many Attempts

• Too much fresh dill can tip the flavour over into “oh wow, that’s a gardening mistake.” Stick to parsley if you’re hesitant.
• Skim milk gives a thinner sauce. Not the end of the world—just, now you know.
• If you’re lucky enough to have roasted garlic, woo boy, chuck that in instead. It sort of melts right in and cuts that sharp edge (in fact, I prefer it).

Variations (Stuff I’ve Actually Tried… With Mixed Results)

• Mushrooms—sliced and fried up ahead add earthy funk. But I used too many once and it got weirdly meaty (not sure why?).
• Chopped sun-dried tomatoes—these were a win; Even a spoonful makes it feel summery.
• Swapping out rice for quinoa… honestly, it just wasn’t the same. Maybe you’ll like it but, for me, basmati wins every time.

Gear You Need (But Improvise!)

• Deep frying pan or skillet (no fancy brands needed—mine’s older than my youngest and yes, it wobbles a bit)
• Pot for rice—don’t have one with a lid? A plate balanced on top works, just be careful not to tip it; ask me how I know
• Sharp-ish knife for herbs and chicken (I’ve made do with a bread knife when all else failed, no shame in that)

How to Store This (Though It’s Usually Gone, Frankly)

This keeps in the fridge, tightly covered, for up to two days; reheat gently with a splash of cream or water. But honestly, in my flat, leftovers are just a daydream. 

How I Usually Serve It Up

I like scooping a mound of rice into big pasta bowls and ladling lots of sauce over—extra herbs on top (my cousin calls this the “green snow”). Sometimes I do a simple salad of cucumber slices with lemon and salt while the chicken’s bubbling away. I’ve also been known to pile it atop naan if there’s no rice—blame the late-night munchies.

The Things I Wish I’d Learned Earlier

• I once tried blasting the sauce to reduce it faster; don’t! Cream splits and looks, not to mince words, pretty grim.
• Stir the rice with a fork, not a spoon. Apparently, that’s what stops it gumming up. Go figure.
• Chicken breast dries out in a flash. If you think it’s just about done, pull it from the sauce, let it rest, then slice back in.

Real Questions I’ve Heard (Or Asked Myself)

1. Can I make this without cream? Sure, swap in coconut milk or even a splash of stock and a bit of plain yogurt. Actually, a friend of mine does that and swears by it. I like it with cream though—classic comfort.
2. Is basmati rice essential? Not at all, but I reckon it smells lovely with the herbs. Jasmine rice is fine; I wouldn’t use brown rice here, though, unless you’re OK with extra chew.
3. What herbs are best? Honestly? A mix! Anything green and soft-stemmed. Parsley is my safe bet, tarragon is nice if you’re feeling posh, and rosemary… well, only a little or it just takes over.
4. Can I make it ahead? Absolutely. In fact, I think this tastes better the next day (just don’t let the rice dry out; add a splash of water before reheating).
5. I don’t have a skillet—what now? Large heavy saucepan works. Or your biggest soup pot. You might need to stir a bit more to stop catching on the bottom.
6. Does it freeze? Sort of. The sauce can split but it’s still tasty. Mix it like mad when reheating and you’re golden.

Oh, one more random thing: if you end up with leftover fresh herbs—stick them in a glass of water in the fridge, they’ll last longer. Or just, you know, make this again tomorrow. Cheers!