Lemon Chicken Orzo Soup

ByClaire Laurent August 4, 2025

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Let’s Talk Lemon Chicken Orzo Soup (and Why I Can’t Stop Making It)

Okay, so picture this: it’s raining cats and dogs outside, you can’t find your other slipper, and you just want something warm that feels like a hug in a bowl. That’s when I first made this Lemon Chicken Orzo Soup—right in the middle of one of those “blah” weeks. My youngest was snuffling on the couch, and honestly I only had chicken thighs because the store was out of breasts (classic). I went for it. It somehow became our little family’s “comfort crisis” recipe. To this day, whenever someone’s got the sniffles, or even just an attitude, this is what I whip up. But hey, even when it’s sunny, I crave it—must be the lemon. Did I spill some orzo on the floor once? Absolutely. Did the dog eat it? Yes. Did it stop me? Not a chance.

Why You Might Love This (Or Why My Family Does, Anyway)

I make this whenever I need something that feels both healthy-ish and satisfying. My family goes absolutely bonkers for it because it’s got that fresh lemon flavor, plus it’s just creamy enough without being heavy. And for me, it’s a total fridge clean-out moment—half the time I use leftover rotisserie chicken (saves a ton of time), and nobody’s the wiser. Oh, and the orzo is like sneaky comfort food. The only *tiny* pain is fishing out the bay leaf, but trust me, it’s worth it (just don’t be like me and forget it in there; nobody likes a surprise bay leaf in their spoonful!).

What You’ll Need (Feel Free to Wing It)

2 tablespoons olive oil (sometimes I use butter, or both if I’m feeling fancy)
1 small onion, chopped (red onion works in a pinch)
2 large carrots, diced (honestly, baby carrots are fine, just cut ’em up)

2 stalks celery, diced (or just skip if you hate celery, I won’t judge)
3 garlic cloves, minced (I’ve used garlic powder when lazy, it’s okay, not great)
6 cups chicken broth (my grandmother swears by homemade, but store-bought is just fine—Better Than Bouillon is my “cheat”)

1 pound cooked chicken, shredded (rotisserie, leftover roast, whatever you got)
3/4 cup orzo pasta (I once used ditalini when I ran out—also works!)
2 lemons (zest and juice; sometimes just one, if I’m low)

1 bay leaf (or skip if you don’t have, but it adds a little something-something)
Salt & pepper to taste (I sometimes throw in a dash of Italian seasoning, too)
Fresh parsley, chopped (totally optional, but looks pretty)

How I Make It (And Things I’ve Messed Up)

Start by heating the olive oil in a big-ish pot, medium heat. I always forget to let it get hot enough and end up with sad onions, so wait ’til it shimmers.
Chuck in the onion, carrots, and celery. Let them soften up for about 5 minutes—sometimes I get distracted and let them go longer, and it’s actually fine.
Add in the garlic; give it 30 seconds, just ’til you smell it. Don’t wander off at this stage or it’ll burn and then you get that weird bitter thing (learned form experience).

Pour in your chicken broth. Scrape up any bits on the bottom; that’s flavor right there. Add the bay leaf too.
Bring it to a boil, then drop in the orzo. Lower the heat a bit. Stir it now and then or you’ll end up with a sad orzo lump at the bottom.
After about 8 minutes, toss in the chicken. Simmer until the orzo’s cooked (about 10 minutes total, give or take). This is where I usually sneak a taste, just to “check the seasoning.” (Okay, maybe two tastes.)

Turn off the heat. Fish out that bay leaf (seriously, don’t forget). Stir in lemon zest and juice. Go easy—you can always add more. Taste. Season with salt and pepper. Sometimes I add a splash more broth if it gets too thick.
Ladle into bowls. Scatter parsley on top, if you’re feeling fancy or want to impress someone.

Notes from My Messy Kitchen

This soup thickens a lot as it cools. Honestly, next-day leftovers are basically a pasta dish; I kind of love it, but add a splash of water or broth if you want it soupy again.

If you want more “oomph,” try stirring in a spoonful of Greek yogurt at the end. I know it sounds weird, but actually, it works better than cream (in my opinion).
I used to be fussy about chopping everything evenly, but after a few rushed Tuesday nights, I realized nobody really notices.
For extra brightness, add a squeeze of lemon just before serving. But don’t overdo it or it’ll taste like lemonade gone rogue.

Ways I’ve Tweaked It (Some Worked, Some Not So Much)

Once tossed in spinach at the end (great way to use up the bag before it wilts into mush).
Swapped chicken for turkey after Thanksgiving. Tasted just fine.
Tried making it vegetarian with chickpeas instead of chicken—okay, but honestly, I missed the chicken (maybe I’m just set in my ways).

Attempted with quinoa in place of orzo. Not my favorite, but maybe you’d like it?

What You Need to Cook This (And What to Do If You Don’t Have It)

Big soup pot or Dutch oven (mine is ancient and chipped, still works like a charm)
Sharp-ish knife for chopping veggies (or just use kitchen scissors for the parsley, it’s quicker)

Wooden spoon or spatula (I’ve used a regular spoon, too; honestly, use whatever won’t melt)

If you don’t have a big pot, you could probably make a half batch in a deep skillet. Or, worst case, borrow from a neighbor—gives you a reason to share a bowl later!

How Long Does It Keep? (Spoiler: Not Long in My House)

Supposedly, it’ll keep in the fridge for up to 3-4 days in a container. But between my teenagers and my late-night snack attacks, it barely lasts 24 hours. Reheat gently, and add a splash of broth or water if it’s too thick.

How We Eat It (Feel Free to Start Your Own Tradition)

I usually serve this with crusty bread—sourdough is my weakness—or just a big hunk of whatever loaf is on the counter. Occasionally, I do a little Greek salad on the side, but that’s only if I’m feeling ambitious. My sister dips her cheese toast in the soup (it’s weird but oddly satisfying).

Stuff I Learned the Hard Way (Pro Tips, If You Will)

Don’t rush the veggie sauté step—once I tried skipping ahead, and the soup tasted flat. Take your time here, it pays off.
Orzo likes to hang out at the bottom. Stir more than you think you need to, or you’ll find a clump later (and yes, I have done this more than once).

Go easy on the lemon at first. I once dumped in both lemons at once—wow, that was…intense. Add a bit, taste, then add more if you’re feeling zesty.

Real Questions I Get (And My Honest Answers)

Can I freeze Lemon Chicken Orzo Soup?: Technically, yes, but the orzo gets a bit mushy after freezing. If you know you’ll be freezing, maybe cook the orzo separately and add it fresh when reheating. Or just embrace the mush!
What can I use instead of orzo?: Pastina, ditalini, or even small rice work fine. I once used broken spaghetti—just snap it into little bits.
Is there a way to make this dairy-free?: Sure! This soup doesn’t actually have dairy (unless you add cheese or yogurt at the end, which is optional). Easy win.
How do I make this for a crowd?: Double everything, use your biggest pot, and, on second thought, leave out the lemon until the very end and add little by little. Learned that one the hard way.
Where did you get your favorite soup pot?: Bought it secondhand, actually! But if you’re looking for a new one, I genuinely like the options at Food52 or good old Le Creuset (if you’re feeling fancy).
How about a vegetarian option?: See above—I’ve done it with chickpeas and extra veggies. Not bad, but the chicken version just wins out for me.

Oh, quick aside: If you want more lemony goodness, Serious Eats has a slightly fancier version that I tried and liked, but I always come back to my no-fuss method. Anyway, let me know if you try it—I love hearing how other folks tweak this soup!