Chicken Enchilada Soup: Cozy, Tangy, and Weeknight-Friendly

If You Need Dinner Magic, Chicken Enchilada Soup Is It

Alright, gather round, friends! I’m probably more excited about this Chicken Enchilada Soup than is strictly normal, but honestly, every time I make it, I’m reminded of cold evenings in my tiny apartment when money was tight and all I wanted was to make something that felt like a hug. I still remember the first time… I made a mess of the kitchen and burnt the onions (twice!), but even the cat looked intrigued by the smell. It’s one of those dishes that whispers, ‘Relax—I’ve got you.’

Now, I can’t promise you won’t get soup splatters everywhere—unless you’re supernatural—but what I can promise is the family will huddle in the kitchen, waiting with bowls in hand. At least mine does, sometimes arguing about who gets the first scoop. (Spoiler: it’s usually me. Perks of being the cook!)

Why I Keep Coming Back to This (and Maybe You Will Too)

I make Chicken Enchilada Soup when I’ve had one of those days where time runs backwards. It’s fast but tastes like you put in hours—my kids call it ‘that spicy orange soup.’ My husband, who claims to hate leftovers, always asks if there’s any left for tomorrow. (Truth: I think it’s even better after a night in the fridge. Something magic happens. Or maybe it’s just the flavors getting cozy.)

And if I’m feeling spicy (figuratively and literally), I throw in extra jalapeño, which gives it a right good kick. The only thing that sometimes drives me batty: when I forget to defrost chicken. Actually, scratch that. I learned you can throw in raw chicken breasts and shred them later, and it’s totally fine.

What You’ll Need (and a Few ‘It’ll-Do’ Swaps)

• 2 cups cooked shredded chicken (leftover rotisserie is my secret weapon for lazy nights—but hey, raw chicken works if you want to cook it in the pot, just up the simmer time)
• 1 tbsp olive oil (or honestly, butter if I’m out)
• 1 medium onion, diced (red or yellow—my grandmother swore by yellow, but I use whatever’s rolling around the drawer)
• 2-3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 can (10 oz) enchilada sauce (sometimes I get fancy and use Kate’s homemade version, but store-bought is totally fine!)
• 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed (pinto beans work if that’s what you’ve got—no one will know)
• 1 cup frozen corn (or just cut kernels right off a cob if it’s summer and you’re feeling all rustic)
• 4 cups chicken broth (sometimes I use half water and a stock cube—it’s not fancy but does the trick)
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp chili powder (or a bit less if your spice tolerance is like my brother’s—zero)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Optional extras: 1 small jalapeño, minced, juice of half a lime, chopped cilantro, shredded cheese, crushed tortilla chips

Let’s Cook (Imperfectly!)

1. Heat the olive oil in a decent-sized pot over medium heat. Toss in your onion (this is where I always get impatient, but letting it go til soft and a little golden is worth it).
2. Add garlic, let it sizzle for maybe 30 seconds. Should smell dreamy, if it doesn’t, give it a minute.
3. Pour in that can of enchilada sauce. Smells wild! Stir it up, then toss in tomatoes, black beans, corn, broth, and all your spices. And a touch of lime juice if you like citrusy things—sometimes I do, sometimes I forget.
4. Bring everything to a simmer (don’t let it boil over, trust me on that—cleaning burnt soup is about as much fun as getting a root canal). If you’re starting with raw chicken, dunk in the breasts now and cook for about 20 mins or until they shred easily.
5. Otherwise, add in your cooked / shredded chicken now, let it mingle for 10 minutes until it’s all steaming hot and glorious.
6. This is when I sneak a taste—and, let’s be honest, probably add more salt. Or cheese. Or both.
7. Just before serving, sprinkle on some cilantro and let people go nuts with shredded cheese and tortilla chips. Or, if you’re like me, eat it straight from a mug while standing over the sink. No shame.

Notes from the Trenches

• I once tried using green enchilada sauce—wasn’t the vibe. Too tangy for my taste (but hey, maybe you’ll love it!)
• Leaving out the corn makes it less sweet, which, actually, I prefer sometimes. On second thought…my family likes the corn, so I usually cave.
• If you like your soup thicker, mash up some beans or toss in a handful of rice. No measurements, just feel it out.

The Things I’ve Tried (Some Better Than Others)

• Added a splash of heavy cream at the end once—super cozy, almost like a Tex-Mex chowder.
• Swapped in turkey after Thanksgiving. Was surprisingly good (plus, everyone loves a leftover hack).
• Tried quinoa instead of beans one time. Not my favorite, kinda weird texture, but if you’re feeling adventurous, do your thing!

What You’ll Need to Make This (But Don’t Panic If You Don’t Have…)

• Big soup pot or Dutch oven (mine is one I bought half-price at Target—no shame!)
• Wooden spoon, because it just feels right.
• Sharp-ish knife for veggies (though, honestly, I used a bread knife last week and survived).
• If you like velvety soup, an immersion blender helps, but a potato masher or even just a fork gets you close enough.

Keeping and Storing (But Honestly…)

You can keep this soup in the fridge for up to 3 days, maybe even four if you stretch the truth a little. But in all honesty, it’s rare there’s any left—my teenager once ate the leftovers for breakfast with a fried egg on top (wasn’t my idea, but actually pretty good?). Freeze it for up to 2 months if you’re more organized than me. I always think I’ll save some, but somehow it’s always gone.

How We Eat It In My House

I’m a big fan of topping this soup with everything but the kitchen sink. We pile on avocado, sometimes some crumbled feta if we’re out of cheddar (sounds odd, but it works). If my friend Amy comes over, she insists on a dollop of sour cream and a squeeze of extra lime because she’s a Texan and, well, Texans just do things bigger. Every now and then I whip up fresh flour tortillas (but usually…not). And if you’re up for it, a cold beer or fizzy lemonade on the side makes it feel like a party.

Pro Tips (AKA, Mistakes I’ve Actually Made)

• Don’t rush sautéing the onions—if you do, they taste harsh. I did once, and regretted it all the way through dinner.
• If the soup looks thin, let it simmer a bit longer; it’ll thicken as it cools. I used to panic and start dumping in cheese, but patience is key here.
• Watch the salt. Canned enchilada sauce and broth can be pretty salty already—better to underdo it early and fix it later.

Your Chicken Enchilada Soup Questions (Because You Asked…)

• Can I use leftover turkey instead of chicken?
  For sure! I’ve done it. Maybe not quite the same flavor, but still delish—just toss it in at the end to warm up.
• Is it spicy?
  Not usually, but if you’re nervous, skip the jalapeño and maybe go easy on the chili powder. Or pile on the hot sauce if you like living dangerously!
• Can I make this vegetarian?
  Absolutely—swap the chicken for extra beans (white beans are nice), use veggie stock, and it’s still great. My sister-in-law tried it and asked for seconds, so there you go.
• How do you shred chicken fast?
  I use two forks and, if I’m honest, sometimes my hands (when it’s not volcano-hot). And you can use a stand mixer, which is wild, but it works—saw that on King Arthur Baking one time.

By the way, has anyone figured out why onions always make you cry more when you’re already tired? Just me? Never mind. Anyway—happy cooking, and if you have a wild variation or fix, send it my way. Always learning!