Pin There's something about the smell of butter and cream reducing on the stove that makes everything feel right in the kitchen. Years ago, on a particularly gray Tuesday, I made this dish almost by accident—I had chicken, noodles, and a cream craving, so I just started building from there. What emerged was something my sister couldn't stop eating, and now it's become the recipe I turn to when I want comfort without complicated technique.
I remember making this for a dinner party when I was stressed about impressing people, and it was the one thing that came out perfectly. Everyone went quiet for that first bite, and then someone asked for seconds before finishing their plate. That's when I knew this recipe had something special—it doesn't need flash, just honest flavors and a little care.
Ingredients
- Chicken breasts or thighs (500 g): Cut into bite-sized pieces so they cook fast and distribute evenly through the sauce.
- Butter and olive oil (2 tbsp and 1 tbsp): The butter gives richness, the oil prevents burning and adds stability.
- Yellow onion (1 medium): Finely chop it so it softens into the cream without chunks distracting you.
- Garlic cloves (2): Minced fine releases their sweetness into the sauce without overpowering.
- Carrots and celery (2 each, medium and stalks): They add subtle sweetness and body that keeps the sauce from feeling one-dimensional.
- All-purpose flour (2 tbsp): This thickens the sauce into something velvety rather than thin.
- Chicken broth (480 ml): Low-sodium matters here because you're building the flavor yourself, not relying on the broth to carry it.
- Whole milk and heavy cream (240 ml and 120 ml): The milk keeps it light, the cream gives it that luxurious feel you're after.
- Dijon mustard, thyme, parsley, and paprika: These are the quiet workers that make people ask what you put in it.
- Egg noodles (250 g): Wide ones hold the sauce like little boats; they're worth seeking out.
- Frozen peas (60 g): They don't need cooking, just warming, which means you can't accidentally overcook them.
- Fresh parsley for finishing: A small touch that makes it look like someone who knows what they're doing made this.
Instructions
- Season and sear the chicken:
- Pat your chicken dry if it's wet, then season generously with salt and pepper. Heat your butter and oil together over medium-high heat until the pan sizzles when you add the chicken—this takes about 2 minutes.
- Build the aromatic base:
- After removing the chicken, let the pan calm down slightly, then add your onion, carrots, and celery. You'll hear them hit the pan, and they need about 4 minutes to soften and start releasing their sweetness before you add the garlic.
- Make the roux:
- Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir constantly for 1-2 minutes. It will look grainy at first, then start to toast slightly—that's when you know it's ready to accept the liquid.
- Create the creamy sauce:
- Pour in your broth slowly while whisking, then the milk and cream. This gradual approach prevents lumps from forming and keeps everything smooth.
- Flavor and simmer:
- Add your mustard, thyme, parsley, and paprika, then let everything bubble gently for 5 minutes. Taste it and adjust salt and pepper to where it feels right—this is your moment to own the flavor.
- Combine everything:
- Return the chicken to the pot, add your cooked noodles and peas, and toss until every noodle is coated. The whole thing should come together in about 2-3 minutes of gentle heat.
Pin My mom ate this and said it reminded her of Sunday dinners from when she was young, but somehow better. I think that's what this recipe does best—it feels familiar but tastes like someone paid attention.
Why This Dish Works
The magic here is restraint. There's no fancy technique, no ingredient you've never heard of, but the flavors layer in a way that makes you pause between bites. The cream mellows the herbs, the vegetables give it texture, and the Dijon mustard adds a whisper of sophistication that nobody can quite identify. It works because every component is doing a job, and nothing is trying too hard.
Timing and Flexibility
I've made this on nights when I had 45 minutes and nights when I was slower. The beauty is that nothing here requires precision timing—if your vegetables soften a minute longer, the sauce is still creamy. If your noodles cook while you're finishing the sauce, you just rewarm them together. The whole thing bends to your pace in a way that perfect recipes usually don't.
When You Want to Play Around
Once you've made this a few times, you'll understand the structure well enough to improvise. A splash of white wine when sautéing the vegetables deepens everything. Mushrooms add an earthy note that makes it feel more grown up. Even rotisserie chicken works beautifully if you're short on time and don't mind sacrificing that first sear.
- A pinch of nutmeg in the cream sauce can feel like an accident or like genius—taste as you go.
- If you have fresh thyme, use it instead of dried; the difference is subtle but real.
- Serve alongside a sharp green salad or steamed broccoli to cut through the richness without apology.
Pin This is the kind of recipe that gets better the more you make it, not because you perfect it, but because you relax into it. Make it for people you care about, and it will become theirs too.
Recipe Q&A
- → What cut of chicken works best?
Boneless, skinless chicken breasts or thighs cut into bite-sized pieces ensure even cooking and tenderness.
- → Can I use frozen vegetables in the sauce?
Yes, frozen peas are added near the end, but for best texture, fresh carrots, onions, and celery are recommended.
- → How do I make the sauce creamy?
Creating a roux with flour, then slowly whisking in milk and cream, thickens the sauce to a rich, velvety consistency.
- → What herbs complement this dish?
Dried thyme, parsley, and a hint of paprika enhance the flavor with aromatic and slightly earthy notes.
- → Can this dish be prepared ahead of time?
Yes, it can be made in advance and gently reheated, though fresh parsley should be added right before serving.