So, About This Brothy Miso Ginger Chicken and Rice Thing…

This is the kind of meal I dream up on a drizzly Tuesday when I just want to hunker down (that’s what my aunt from Yorkshire always says). There was this one time I started making it after coming back from a long walk, completely soaked, and honestly, didn’t measure a thing—just kept adding maybe a little too much ginger… and it was still fantastic. That’s kinda the beauty of it.

Now, is this absolutely, entirely authentic miso soup or chicken rice? Probably not. But I promise it’s the best sort of mash-up when you want comfort food that practically hugs you back. If this dish were a sweater, it would be that slightly baggy, soft one you always reach for.

Why You’ll Love This (I Definitely Do)

I make this when I’m craving something brothy and nourishing, but can’t deal with complicated recipes. My family goes bonkers for this because it’s SO cozy, and there’s always someone asking for seconds (even my picky nephew—go figure). It also helps on those days when you open your fridge, see random leftover rice, some chicken, and think: “eh, what now?” Here’s what now. Oh, and once my miso accidentally plonked into the pot way too early and it still turned out okay—so there’s that.

All the Things You’ll Need (with Options!)

2 chicken thighs or breasts (with skin for flavor, but boneless works if that’s what you have; I use drumsticks in a pinch!)
4 cups good chicken stock (Boxed is fine. My grandmother always insisted on making it from scratch, but honestly, I don’t bother most weeknights.)
3-inch piece of fresh ginger (peeled & sliced, but if you only have ground ginger, just use a teaspoon or so—just don’t tell any food snobs.)
2 garlic cloves, smashed (or, um, a heaping teaspoon of garlic paste does the trick, too)
3 tablespoons white miso paste (red miso is okay but gives a stronger, punchier flavor—maybe save that for braver palates)
1 small onion or 2 shallots (I swap these freely, sometimes even use a leek—delightfully unruly)
2 tablespoons soy sauce (or Tamari if you’re gluten free. I’m sure someone’s tried coconut aminos… I just can’t vouch for it)
2 cups cooked rice (leftover, cold rice is absolutely fine—sometimes even better, really)
A handful of greens (spinach, bok choy, or even kale; once I used arugula and the pepperiness was surprisingly good)
Optional: sliced scallions, sesame oil drizzle, sriracha for heat, handful of frozen corn if you’re feeling wild

Alright, Here’s How You Make It

Brown the chicken: Grab a heavy-bottomed pot (I just use my battered Dutch oven). Splash in a bit of oil, heat it up, then sear the chicken till golden-ish on both sides. Don’t fuss if it sticks a little—extra flavor. Take it out and set aside.
Sweat the aromatics: Toss in your onion, ginger, garlic—with another splash of oil if needed. Stir till all soft and fragrant. Sometimes my onions get a little brown, which I secretly like.
Simmer: Pour in the chicken stock, add the chicken back in, plus soy sauce. Scrape up the stuck bits; they’re liquid gold. Let this all bubble away gently, lid half-on, for about 20 minutes. This is a good time for a quick cup of tea—or, if you’re like me, maybe check what’s happening on Bon Appetit for inspiration.
Miso moment: This part is important, actually— fish the chicken out onto a plate (careful, it’ll be super tender), whisk the miso paste in a bowl with a ladle of the hot broth first (makes it smoother) then pour that back into the pot. If you chuck the miso straight into boiling soup it gets grainy and loses its magic flavor. Trust me, I’ve done it more than once.
Shred the chicken: Using two forks, pull apart the cooked chicken into bitey pieces. Put it back in the pot over low heat so it all gets cozy together.
Finish: Stir in your rice and greens, just until everything’s warmed through. The rice soaks up the broth, but not all of it. Check seasoning—more soy, or a whisper of sesame oil for a bit of gloss. This is where I sneak a taste. I mean, how else do you know if it’s ready?
Serve: Ladle into bowls. Top with scallions, chili oil, maybe a fried egg if you’re feeling hungry. Or if it’s just Thursday.

Notes From My (Middling) Experience

If you’ve only got leftover rotisserie chicken, just shred and chuck it in with the rice at the very end instead
The miso dissolving step matters—if you skip whisking it, it gets lumpy and grumpy
I keep rice in meal-prep containers most weeks, and honestly, I think it tastes better the next day (but rarely makes it that long, so this is just a theory)
Leftover broth makes a great lazy lunch with boiled egg and a splash of soy—it’s pretty forgiving

Variations I’ve Tried (and, Well, Regretted)

Tofu instead of chicken—works if you’re vegetarian, just pan-fry till crispy. It was a hit with my cousin’s vegan boyfriend—though he did drown his bowl in chili oil
Quinoa instead of rice—ehh, not my favorite. Something about the texture just wasn’t right? But if quinoa is your thing, don’t let me stop you
Add mushrooms—shiitake or even those little brown ones, gives it a deeper, woodsy flavor. My last batch had enokis and it was stellar
I once tried a lime wedge at the end thinking it’d be fresh, but it clashed with the miso! Not all experiments are gold

What If I Don’t Have Special Equipment?

I always use a Dutch oven but any big pot will do. If you only have a regular saucepan, just keep the heat a little lower and watch for splatters. Oh, and if you’ve not got a whisk for the miso, a fork does fine. You’re not being graded, promise.

Storing Leftovers (If There Are Any!)

This keeps fine in the fridge for two days in a tub with a tight-fitting lid, though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. You might have to add a splash more stock or water when reheating; the rice is thirsty stuff. Freezes okay, but I find the rice gets a bit mushy and weird, so, not my preference.

How I Like to Serve It (Just an Idea!)

Big, wide bowls with lots of toppings. If it’s Sunday, I’ll toast up some sesame seeds and sprinkle over everything. Occasionally a little kimchi on the side (here’s a great kimchi recipe, if you fancy making your own). My mum always insists on an egg on top, and she’s usually right.

Pro Tips I Learned the Hard Way

Don’t rush the simmer! I once skimped on time, and the chicken was tough as old boots (as my dad would say)
Miso + boiling broth = grumpy, split soup. Take the time to whisk it gently on the side
Taste as you go. One time I forgot and accidentally made it like a salt lick. Not my finest work

FAQ: People Genuinely Ask Me These…

Can I make this gluten-free?
Yep—just use Tamari instead of regular soy sauce. Easy swap!
What kind of miso?
I usually use white (shiro) miso, it’s mellow. Red gives a bolder flavor; totally edible, just different (maybe try both and see what floats your boat?)
Can you use uncooked rice?
Technically? Sure, but it’ll need more broth and longer simmering, maybe 15–20 mins extra. I prefer leftover rice—it doesn’t get all gloopy.
Do the greens matter?
Nope! Spinach wilts super quick. Bok choy is great too. Arugula’s a bit weird, but I kinda liked it that one time.
How spicy is it?
Not spicy at all unless you want it to be—add sriracha or chili oil if you need that tingle!
Can I skip the chicken and go veg?
Absolutely, just boost the miso and aromatics for that extra oomph.

Anyway, that’s my best shot at explaining Brothy Miso Ginger Chicken and Rice. Let me know if it works out for you—or if your kitchen smells like ginger for three days, like mine did recently (worth it though).

If you’re feeling lost, drop me a note, or go down a rabbit hole with Serious Eats—so many good soup and rice ideas over there.

Brothy Miso Ginger Chicken and Rice