As you can see, there is no handwritten card for this recipe. Its whereabouts--if it ever existed--are a mystery. The copy above came from a family cookbook my sister-in-law compiled. She doesn't remember how she got this recipe. It's possible someone stood next to Grandma and wrote it down while it was being made, but no one knows for sure.
While I love a good mystery, I enjoy this dish even more. It conjures memories of hot noodles on cold evenings and afternoons at the counter, watching Grandma carefully cut the strips. I also remember Grandma tutoring me on the right way to add the noodles to the pot. They were to be scattered, not dumped, and it was good if some of the flour went in also because it helped thicken the broth.
I've been making this recipe for years, so I didn't need to test it. However, I felt it deserved a post because it's definitely one of Grandma's signature dishes. I'll admit to making a few tweaks to shorten the time to make the written version. For example, I often use chicken broth and already-cooked chicken, and I rarely let the dough dry for longer than a few minutes. This is also a good recipe if you have a turkey carcass and want to use as many leftover bits on the bones as possible. So, here's . . .
To start the noodles, I added the eggs, water, flour, salt, and baking powder to a bowl.
I used my Danish Dough whisk to mix it because the dough was quite stiff.
It was also sticky, so I heavily floured my baking mat before scraping out the dough and patting it into a lump.
I then rolled it into a thin sheet, rotating it occasionally and adding extra flour to make sure it wouldn't stick to the mat.
I then cut it into fourths as Grandma directed.
Grandma says to cover the quarters and let them dry for three hours. However, the noodles are just fine without the drying time. I used a pastry wheel to cut strips, but a knife works just as well.
After cutting the dough into noodles, I tossed them with flour to keep them from sticking together. I then let them sit while I prepared the soup.
After dicing the vegetables, I added them to 6 cups of chicken broth, cooked chicken, and the seasonings. I covered the soup with a lid and brought it to a boil.
I then gathered the noodles and scattered them over the top, bringing along as much of the surrounding flour as possible. I gave the mixture a brief stir to separate the noodles then placed the lid back on the pot.
I lowered the heat while the noodles cooked, and when the twenty minutes were up, I lifted the lid to behold this sight.
The noodles were gorgeously plump, and the broth had thickened slightly. Grandma always served her chicken noodles over buttery mashed potatoes, a tradition we've been happy to keep.
As always, it was delicious. The broth was perfectly seasoned, the noodles tender, and the whole of it utterly satisfying. This dish is comfort food at its most comforting.
If you don't already have homemade chicken noodles in your recipe collection, you'll want to add this one. Click on the upper right-hand corner of the image below to download or print it out.
You're welcome.