The best Chicago soups for sick days and cold fronts

It’s a winter craving, to be sure. But a hot bowl of soup also represents a nearly universal balm for the sick, homesick or hungover that’s totally unique to each person.

When a vicious cold recently incapacitated the whole house, I craved Mexican caldo de pollo with whimsically large bone-in chicken and vegetable pieces. (Does anything beat mama-inspired chicken soup?) In fact, deciding what soup to order from the diverse tapestry of Chicago restaurants proved the sole highlight of each interminable day. Heady, sweet pho. Hearty lentil with warming cumin and a shot of lemon. Sinus-clearing tom yum. By day four, short on ideas and clean spoons, I requested a friend’s brothy prescription. She replied, without a beat: wonton soup from the Southeast Asian street food spot Sweet Rice in Bucktown.

Slurping its clear, chickeny broth and fumbling delightedly for shocking-green bok choy and slippery parcels stuffed with shrimp and pork, I briefly forgot about the congestion and body aches. Such is the fortifying power of great soup.

Fortunately, whether your preferred liquid comfort veers toward allspice-scented, Afro-Caribbean fish stews; golden chicken soup; pepper-laced, Indian drinking broth; or earthy borsch, Chicago has a soup for that. As we traverse the long dark months of post-holiday winter amid surging flu cases, here are nine soups to revive the worn-out body or soul. Unless noted, the dishes below are all available for pre-order and carryout.


Akahoshi Miso Ramen at Akahoshi Ramen, Logan Square

2340 N. California Ave.; $19

Have you gotten a seat at Akahoshi Ramen yet? Do keep at it, if only to taste what might be the city’s best ramen at this beloved Logan Square storefront. Cliché though it seems, start with the namesake, which envelops your senses in a savory hug. A blend of misos and blob of lard lend deep, mouthcoatingumami to the soup’s chicken broth base. Fatty half moons of soy-braised, chashu pork belly float amid crisp bean sprouts; fermented bamboo shoots; and ( housemade!) crinkly noodles with satisfying chew — all easier to pinch thanks to textured chopsticks. It speaks to the care in every detail at this temple to a dish loved by so many and perfected by so few. Note: Dine-in only. Plan to book your reservation about a month out, or walk in early.


Duck borsch at Anelya, Avondale

3472 N. Elston Ave., $20

Leave all preconceived notions and spellings of borsch at the door. Anelya’s elegant, punch-pink take on borsch (no “t” in Ukrainian) turns the thin, staunchly utilitarian soup you think you know on its head. This soothing, harmonious homage to the style of Poltava in central Ukraine smacks of gentle sourness with sweet, campfire whiffs of charcoal-dried pears; luscious, gamey duck helps tame the earthiness of a mountain of shredded beets. The bowl comes gilded with a dollop of house cultured cream that dissipates its cooling richness with the deft swirl of a spoon. Even better, the dish’s very existence helps preserve an endangered cultural heritage item, per UNESCO.


The Menudo soup at Barca Birrieria at 4754 W Belmont Ave.

Chefs Margarita and Ozzy Nunez coax mild, liver-like beef tripe to spongy submission over hours in a broth that includes lime juice and plenty of chilies for the menudo at Barca Birrieria y Restaurant.

Anthony Vazquez/Chicago Sun-Times

Menudo at Barca Birrieria y Restaurant, Belmont Cragin

4754 W. Belmont Ave; $16.50

Neck deep in the debaucherous holiday season, my husband and I dragged ourselves to a hungover lunch at Barca, which slings meaty comfort food from the Mexican state of Jalisco. As if through telepathy, co-owner Alice Martinez deposited two small cups of menudo just as we were finishing our bone-in birria in consommé. For this famous Mexican hangover cure, chefs Margarita and Ozzy Nunez coax mild, liver-like beef tripe to spongy submission over hours in a broth that includes lime juice and plenty of (top secret, possibly guajillo) chilies. The offal honeycombs bob amid hominy in brick-red broth reminiscent of smoky, vinegary Mexican hot sauce tinged with minerally funk and bright citrus. A heap of warm, just-pressed corn tortillas arrive wrapped in cloth for dunking. As I rose, reanimada, from my bar stool to pay, I swore I felt a spring in my step. Note: Only available on weekends. 


French onion gratinée at Boeufhaus in West Town

The beefy broth of the French onion gratinée at Boeufhaus exudes the caramelized depth of roasted bones and sweet, long-cooked onions, scented with thyme.

Courtesy of Maggie Hennessy

French onion gratinée at Boeufhaus, West Town

1012 N. Western Ave.; $18

One can find many outstanding bowls of rich, comforting French onion soup around the city. But my favorite is this decadent, seasonal stunner from handsome West Town brasserie Boeufhaus. The beefy broth exudes the caramelized depth of roasted bones and sweet, long-cooked onions, scented with thyme (and a shot of booze, perhaps?). The topper — a giant, half softened sourdough crouton — is enveloped in so much blistered Gruyère that it erupts down the sides of the crock, like cheesy magma. Note: Dine-in only. 


Hudut Baruru Tikini at Garifuna Flava

The hudut baruru tikini features cabbage- and sweet pepper-laced gravy seasoned with warming cumin and allspice.

Courtesy of Garifuna Flava

Hudut baruru tikini at Garifuna Flava, Marquette Park

2518 W. 63rd St.; $28

This Marquette Park spot specializes in cooking from coastal Honduras, Belize, and Guatemala. And though known for fiery jerk chicken wings that’ll make you sweat like it’s a sticky summer day, this eatery also churns out plenty of sustaining stewed meat and fish, like this savory, sweet and sour tikini, meaning brown stew. As it simmers, kingfish infuses its oily umami into the rich, cabbage- and sweet pepper-laced gravy seasoned with warming cumin and allspice. Scoop your own dumplings from the accompanying, dough-like hudut, or boiled and mashed green and ripe plantains, which soften at the edges when you dunk them in the spoon-coating liquid.


Phở đặc biệt at Hai Yen, Uptown

1055 W. Argyle St.; $16.50

Hiding midblock amid shinier Little Saigon storefronts, Hai Yen draws those in the know about its bò lá lốt, lemongrass-scented beef and pork sausage grilled in betel leaf. The dish I nudge newcomers about most is the phở đặc biệt. At once light and unapologetically beefy, it teems with brisket, flank steak, eye of round, meatballs, tripe, and tendon and slippery rice noodles. The almost clear broth gets subtle sweetness from rock sugar and mint, with a piquant edge from slivered jalapeños and red and green onions.


The mushroom noodle soup at Lao Peng You located at 2020 W. Chicago Ave. in West Town.

No shirt is safe in the presence of this satisfying, chili oil-slicked vegetarian soup at the always-packed Lao Peng You.

Candace Dane Chambers/Chicago Sun-Times

Mushroom noodle soup at Lao Peng You (vegetarian), West Town

2020 W. Chicago Ave.; $20

No shirt is safe in the presence of this satisfying, chili oil-slicked vegetarian soup at the always-packed Lao Peng You. The broth, redolent of toasted garlic and nutty sesame oil, sports lip-tingling heat and magnetic umami thanks to a slew of mushrooms, including dried shiitakes, bamboos, morels, cordyceps and enokis. The reddish, oily liquid flies every which way as I excavate springy handpulled noodles, chewy wood ear mushrooms and peppery, fresh watercress stems. I prefer to sip the broth directly from the bowl between bites; might as well coat my lips in that oily goodness, too.


Samgye-Tang at Ssyal, Albany Park

4201 W. Lawrence Ave.; $31.99

Since opening in 1988, this Albany Park institution for traditional Korean cooking has cured countless real and perceived ails with its ginseng chicken soup. In a dish that hearkens back to agrarian Korea in the 1800s, whole cornish hens are boiled with gently bitter ginseng, prune-like Chinese dates (jujubes), garlic and a heap of medicinal herbs until its meat practically melts at the touch of a chopstick. A generous spread of banchan accompanies the bubbling cauldron of comfort. I, for one, have been known to pluck the chicken pieces out of the broth and dab them in salt and scallions.


Rasam at Thattu in Avondale

Meaning “pepper water,” this Indian drinking broth arrives in a dainty cup alongside entrees at indie-owned Keralan restaurant Thattu.

Courtesy of Vinod Kalathil

Rasam at Thattu (vegetarian), Avondale

2601 W. Fletcher St., $6

Meaning “pepper water,” this Indian drinking broth — an invigorating amalgam of sweet-sour tamarind vigorously boiled with chopped tomato, garlic and loads of fire-breathing black pepper — arrives in a dainty cup alongside entrees at indie-owned Keralan restaurant Thattu. The soup is presented for sipping or gingerly pouring over matta rice. However, I am anything but dainty when I consume this fiery curative, slugging rudely as if my life force depends on it. The first gulp races down tangy, sweet and full of umami. I roar an invigorated “ahhhhhh!” By swig three, tears fill my eyes and my nose runs as the pepper-laced broth tingles and sparks its magic throughout my entire being. I unwittingly emit another “ahhhh!” Did I see smoke that time? Note: Dine-in only.

Maggie Hennessy is a Chicago-based food and drink writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times, Bon Appetit and Food & Wine. Follow her on Instagram.

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