Let’s Talk Chicken Pot Pie (And Why My Dog Always Hangs Around the Kitchen)

Okay, so you know those recipes that just smell like home? For me, it’s chicken pot pie. Every time I make it, I remember my mum rattling pans on a rainy Sunday, the dog hovering like a culinary vulture, and my brother trying to sneak a spoonful of the filling when no one was looking (he thought we didn’t notice; we did). Honestly, if you can resist eating half the filling before it hits the crust, you’ve got more willpower than I do. Plus, there’s something about making a pie from scratch that just makes you feel, I dunno… like you’ve really accomplished something. Even if you’re still in pajamas at 3pm.

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Chicken Pot Pie

I make this when I want everyone to gather round the table and actually talk (phones down, mouths full, good luck). My family goes wild for it because it’s creamy, cozy, and—this made me laugh the first time—a reliable way to get peas into my husband. I’ve tried shortcuts and frozen versions for busy weeknights, but honestly, nothing beats the homemade version. I did once try skipping the crust and just serving the filling with biscuits, but it wasn’t the same (though no one complained; carbs are carbs). Oh, and if you accidentally overcook the chicken? No one will notice because it all gets blanketed in delicious sauce anyway. That’s the magic.

Stuff You’ll Need (But Not All at Once, Promise)

2 cups cooked chicken (leftover roast, rotisserie, or even poached chicken breasts—sometimes I use thighs for extra flavor; Grandma swore by them)
1 cup carrots, diced (out of fresh? Frozen mixed veggies are totally fine, and nobody’s judging)
1 cup peas (I once used lima beans by accident; would not recommend but you do you)
1/2 cup celery, chopped (if you’re not a fan, just skip it; I’ve done that when I ran out and didn’t miss it much)
1/3 cup butter (any butter works, but my neighbor swears Kerrygold is magic)
1/3 cup all-purpose flour (I’ve used whole wheat in a pinch, but it makes the sauce a bit heavier)
1 3/4 cups chicken broth (I usually go for low-sodium but, honestly, I’ve used bouillon cubes in a pinch)
2/3 cup milk (full-fat is best, but 2% works—oat milk once, not bad!)
Salt and pepper to taste (I’m heavy-handed with pepper because I love a little kick)
2 9-inch pie crusts (homemade if you’re feeling fancy, but store-bought is just fine—try this pie crust recipe if you want to go the extra mile)
1 egg, beaten (optional, for a shiny crust; sometimes I forget and it’s still good)

How I Actually Make It (Plus a Little Rambling)

Preheat your oven to 425°F (218°C). Unless you forgot to take the crust out of the freezer, in which case, wait a few minutes while it thaws. (Been there.)
Start with the veggies: In a big saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Toss in the carrots, celery, and cook for 5 minutes or until they’re, you know, soft-ish. Sometimes I add a bit of onion if I have one rolling around.
Add the flour and stir until it looks like a weird paste. Don’t worry if it clumps; it always does at first. Cook it for about a minute.

(This is where I usually sneak a taste, but it’s mostly butter and flour, so maybe hold off.)
Gradually pour in the chicken broth and milk while stirring (don’t dump it all at once or you’ll get lumps). Let it simmer until it thickens up; it should coat the back of a spoon. If it looks a bit too thick, add a splash more milk. Salt and pepper to taste.
Stir in the chicken and peas. Mix it all together and turn off the heat. If your mixture looks a bit sad, I sometimes add a squeeze of lemon or a dash of dried thyme.
Line a pie dish with one crust. Pour in the chicken filling. Top with the second crust, crimp the edges (or just kind of squish them together; no one’s grading your crimping). Cut a few slits for steam.
Brush the top crust with beaten egg if you remember. (I forget about half the time.)
Bake for 30-35 minutes until the top is golden and you get those little bubbling bits at the edge. If the crust gets too brown, cover it with foil (or, as I did once, a baking sheet perched on top—I’m nothing if not resourceful).
Let it sit for 10 minutes before slicing. I know, waiting is torture, but it’s worth it.

Also, if you cut it early, the filling kind of gushes out, which, hey, is still delicious.

Notes from the Frontlines of My Kitchen

If your sauce is lumpy, whisk it like you mean it. Or use an immersion blender, which I didn’t own until last year (life-changing, honestly).
Sometimes I make the filling the day before—actually, I think it tastes better the next day. Also, it saves time when I’m rushing around at dinnertime.
Don’t stress about the crust looking perfect. I’ve patched holes with extra dough scraps, and nobody’s noticed.

Variations I’ve Tried (Some More Successful Than Others)

Turkey leftovers instead of chicken—works great after Thanksgiving!
Mushrooms instead of peas (for the anti-pea crowd, you know who you are)
Biscuit topping instead of pie crust. Not bad, but it turned into biscuit stew—tasty but not a “pie” really.
Once I tried adding curry powder for a twist… Let’s just say I probably won’t do that again (my husband still teases me).

What If I Don’t Have a Pie Dish? (Been There!)

Honestly, as long as it’s oven-safe and holds everything, you’re good. I’ve used a square cake pan, a deep baking dish—even a cast-iron skillet. Just watch the bake time; thinner layers cook faster.

Storing Leftovers (Assuming You Have Any)

Wrap leftovers tightly, and keep them in the fridge for up to 3 days—though honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day! You can reheat slices in the oven at 350°F for 10 minutes or zap ’em in the microwave, but the crust gets a bit less crisp that way. Sometimes I like it even better the next day, cold, with a splash of hot sauce.

How I Serve It (AKA The Only Way My Kid Eats Veggies)

I love a big green salad on the side, maybe some crusty bread if I’m feeling extra. Sometimes we’ll have it with pickles (my grandmother’s weird tradition, but it’s grown on me). And a generous scoop of pie for everyone—seconds are pretty much expected. If you want something sweet after, I recommend these chocolate chip cookies (because why not?).

Pro Tips (Learned the Hard Way)

Let the filling cool a bit before putting the top crust on; otherwise, it gets soggy. (I rushed this once, regretted it.)
Don’t overfill the pie—learned that when my oven got a cheese volcano situation. Use a baking sheet underneath if you’re nervous.
If you’re making ahead, keep the crusts separate until just before baking. Trust me, it gets less gluey.

Real Questions People Have Actually Asked Me

Can I freeze this? Sure! Freeze before baking for best results. Wrap it tight. Bake straight from frozen at 400°F for about an hour, but check the middle.

I’ve also frozen leftovers, though the crust gets softer; still tastes good!
Does it work with puff pastry? Oh yes, and it’s actually kind of fancy. Just keep an eye on it—it browns quick. I like this homemade puff pastry if you’re feeling wild.
Gluten-free? Yep, use a GF flour blend for the sauce and buy or make a GF crust. I’ve tried Bob’s Red Mill and it’s worked out just fine.
How do I avoid a soggy bottom? Bake on the lower rack and try chilling your bottom crust before filling. Or don’t worry—sometimes it just is what it is.
Can I make minis? Totally! Use ramekins or a muffin tin. They’re adorable and freeze well for lunches (though a bit fiddly).

Right, so if you’ve made it this far, thanks for letting me ramble. If you try it, let me know how it goes—or if you find a way to sneak in even more veggies without getting caught. And if you happen to forget a step, don’t sweat it. The kitchen’s for fun, not perfection.