You ever have those days where, for whatever reason, your brain just wants simple cozy comfort food? Yeah, me too. I think it must be a survival mechanism—probably invented by my grandma, who claimed the soul could heal with potatoes (not sure the science is there, but I like the idea). Anyway, this gluten-free potato soup has quietly crept into my weekly repertoire. The first time I made it, I was balancing a toddler on my hip, forgot to peel half the potatoes (still good, by the way), and created a mess that would make Gordon Ramsay break out in hives. Still, the soup was delicious—total winner.

Just a heads up: I’m not really a “by-the-book” cook, and honestly, that’s half the fun. So here’s how I do it.

Why You’ll Love This (or, Why I Make it So Often)

I make this soup when I want something that tastes like effort but really doesn’t require more than a bit of chopping, some stirring, and a very forgiving ladle. My kids go bananas for it, usually fighting over the last bit—I’ve literally scraped the pot with a spatula to get every drop! It’s super creamy, totally gluten-free (handy for my gluten-free best mate), and, look, it saves me every time I forget to meal prep.

Confession: I used to think all potato soups needed a dozen fancy additions; turns out, most of them are better without all the faff.

Ingredient Stash (Substitutes and Secrets)

Potatoes: About 2 lbs (I usually grab Yukon Gold, but you know what? Any will do—even russets or red potatoes. My gran only swore by Maris Pipers, but, honestly, they’re hard to find unless you’re in the UK!)
Onion: 1 medium, chopped. Red, yellow, white, doesn’t matter much. Once I used shallots, and well, that was a thing.
Garlic: 2 cloves, minced. Sometimes I double this—it just depends on my mood or if I’m feeling a bit sniffly.
Carrot: 1 large, diced (optional; sometimes I sneak in an extra if I need to use them up before they go flabby).
Celery: 1 stalk, chopped (I’ve left this out, and honestly, you can barely tell unless you’re a celery fan).
Butter: About 2 tablespoons. I’ve used olive oil in a pinch—or even that weird vegan butter stuff, and it was fine.
Chicken or veg broth: 4 cups (1 liter, give or take—sometimes I use bone broth for extra oomph. Bouillon cubes dissolved in hot water also do in a pinch.)
Milk or cream: 1 to 1 1/2 cups. Regular, lactose-free, or even coconut milk if I’m feeling wild (gives a nice subtle flavor, promise).
Cheddar cheese: A big handful, shredded (totally optional, but it makes it thicker and yummier).
Salt & pepper: To taste. I end up tasting about a dozen times anyway.
Chives, green onions, or parsley: For garnish (if you can be bothered or need to impress anyone).
Bacon bits: Optional. I mean, is it ever really optional? Depends how healthy you want to be today!

On to the Directions—Grab That Wooden Spoon

Prep everything. Chop your vegetables. (I usually peel the potatoes unless I forget, or they’re too small. Up to you.)
Melt butter in a big pot over medium heat. Throw in onions, carrots, and celery if you’ve got them. Sweat them for about 5 minutes till soft. I don’t brown them—unless I forget and check Instagram for too long.
Add garlic. Give it about a minute—you’ll smell it. That’s your cue.
Toss in potatoes and give everything a good mix. Season with a bit of salt and pepper here.
Pour in broth. Enough to just cover everything (don’t panic if you’re a bit short, it’ll still work). Bring to a boil, then turn it down and simmer for, hmm, 20ish minutes. I poke a potato with a fork—if it falls apart, you’re good.
Time to blend (if you want). I usually scoop half into a blender and blitz it, then return it to the pot for the best texture—thick but with some potato chunks. Or just use a potato masher in the pot (less to wash, thank goodness).
Stir in milk or cream. Taste and add more if it needs it. This is the part where I sneak a taste (or two). Adjust seasoning, and if you’re feeling indulgent, stir in that cheese until melty. If it’s too thick, splash in more milk.
Serve hot, topped with whatever you’ve got: bacon, chives, maybe a dollop of sour cream? Actually, my niece loves it plain with crackers, so…you do you.

Notes from My Soup Experiments

Using the wrong potato: I’ve made it with new potatoes, didn’t mash as well but still tasted great! Just chunkier.
Overcooked veg: If you accidentally cook the onions and garlic too long, it gets kind of sweet, but that’s not a disaster.
Leaving skins on isn’t a crime—adds fiber, right? (And saves time. I guess that’s two wins.)

If You Fancy a Change—Variations I’ve Tried

Loaded version: Stir in sour cream, top with extra cheese and crispy bacon—seriously indulgent.
Dairy-free: Use olive oil and your favorite plant-based milk. I tried oat milk once; worked but needed more salt. Almond milk was, um, not my favorite for this one.
Extra veg: Sometimes I’ll throw in some frozen peas or sweetcorn near the end. It works fine, but once I tried spinach and, well, it looked odd but actually tasted all right. Just not pretty.

What If You Don’t Have All the Equipment?

I use a basic stick blender most days (less faff, easier to clean), but a regular blender is fine. Or just mash with a potato masher, honestly. If all you’ve got is a fork—hey, rustic is in, right?

Can You Store It? (or, Will It Even Last?)

Store leftovers in the fridge for up to three days, technically. Though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—at most, until breakfast if you’re stealthy. Reheat gently with a splash more milk if it’s gone thick (it always does). I think the flavor is actually better the next day, not that I ever get to test that theory more than once a month.

How I Like to Serve (or, The Toppings War)

I love it with a swirl of cream and a heap of fresh chives. My family sometimes does things their own way—my brother dunks thick slices of gluten-free bread in (I recommend this one from Gluten Free on a Shoestring if you want to bake your own), my mum likes it with a soft-boiled egg (bit posh, but it’s good), and if it’s a chilly night, I’ve been known to put extra cheese on top and pop it under the broiler. Great with gluten-free soda bread too!

Things I Learned the Hard Way (Pro Tips)

I once tried rushing the simmering step and ended up with slightly crunchy potatoes. Not recommended unless you fancy an accidental jaw workout.
Doubling up the garlic seemed like a good plan, but, on second thought, two cloves is about right unless you want soup that bites back.
Don’t skip seasoning. I sometimes get lazy, but a little patience here really makes it sing.

Questions People Actually Ask Me

Can I make this vegan? Yeah, just use plant-based milk and butter, skip the cheese or go for a vegan version. Easy as.
What if I don’t have broth? Hot water plus a good bouillon cube or two. It’s never failed me yet!
Can you freeze it? You can, but sometimes the texture gets weird. I do it anyway, but then blitz it again after thawing. Might as well; otherwise it’s lumpy city.
Is it really gluten-free? Yep, just double-check your broth cubes and bacon if you use them—sometimes there are hidden bits in there, annoyingly.
Mash or blend? Personal call. Sometimes I just go at it with a masher, other times I go full smooth with the blender. Both are lovely.
Any way to spice it up? Toss in smoked paprika, a pinch of cayenne, or (if you’re me) a dash of hot sauce. My daughter puts sriracha on her bowl. She’s wild.

Anyway, if you’re still with me—thanks for reading all this! Honestly, making soup is a little like life: occasionally messy, usually forgiving, and often tastiest when you do your own thing. Want more gluten-free recipes? Minimalist Baker has loads. Happy cooking!

Gluten-Free Potato Soup