Growing up in an Italian American household meant that Sunday mornings were spent watching cooking shows with my mom as she started preparing elements of dinner—likely served around 2 p.m. The main dish varied from a classic bowl of pasta to an Italian-inspired meal beloved by my parents from South Philadelphia (think paper-thin chicken cutlets, stromboli, panzarotti, DIY hoagie bars, etc.)
But I will say, soup was never a staple in my Italian household, which may be surprising. Sure, I had my fair share of pastina when I was sick, but never in a broth, just with some butter and Parm. So full candid, when I tried Alex Guarnaschelli’s Stracciatella, it was my first time ever eating the soup—better yet, making it! My eyes were bigger than my skill set, so while I looked forward to building the grocery list and creating this traditional soup, I was nervous. The last thing I want is for my ancestors to be rolling in their graves.
That’s where my mom comes in. When I visited one weekend and chatted with her over a post-dinner cup of coffee, I mentioned my plan to make this soup. She stopped me right there and insisted that she would help me (as Italian mothers do). That same night, we went to the grocery store to grab the chicken and veggies, and restock on pantry staples, so we could try out the comforting dish right here, right now.
You would assume that cooking a whole chicken for a soup would make things complex, but it’s actually quite simple. And definitely worth the extra step, as the juicy flavors from the chicken are front and center in this soup. While Mom handled the chicken, I chopped up the veggies and grated the fresh cheese. The liquid gold bubbled on the stove as each ingredient was added in—and the best part is the soup’s namesake. The “little rags” of the beaten eggs forming onto the surface of the soup made this dish all the more gorgeous and unique. But the most important part, the taste: each spoonful was brothy, comforting and simply delicious, embracing the classic ingredients every time.
I ended up freezing this soup and reheating it for lunch throughout the week, and it held up beautifully. Make-ahead tip: If you know you’ll save a few servings for later, leave the cooked pasta on the side and add it to your bowl when you reheat. It’ll leave the pasta firm, not letting it get too soft after sitting in the soup—and you can serve yourself the exact amount of pasta you’d like to have in your bowl. Win-win!
Stracciatella is a traditional meal: my mom reminisced about when her own mother would make classic soups like this for the family. Classic yet timeless, I can see this soup being added to the seasonal rotation for colder months—and I definitely want to whip up another Grandma-approved dinner with my mom, as this experience was fulfilling for both my heart and my stomach.