So, About This Creamy Chicken Pot Pie Orzo…

Right off the bat, let me just say if you’ve ever been trapped inside on a cold evening craving something stick-to-your-ribs—but also not up for rolling out any pie dough—this Creamy Chicken Pot Pie Orzo totally has your back. I first stumbled on this as a sort of kitchen accident…too little time, leftover rotisserie chicken, and zero interest in scrubbing lots of pans. (Plus, who actually has puff pastry lying around?) Anyway, one-pot wonder to the rescue! Honestly, the first time was a bit of a mess—forgot to turn the heat down, nearly turned the orzo to glue. Still, my family ate it and then lobbied pretty hard for a repeat (which, ok, boosted my ego). I now make it on purpose.

Why You’ll Probably Love It (Or At Least Like It)

I make this when I want food that feels like a hug (but doesn’t involve a fussy white sauce). My family goes a bit bananas for it, especially when I skip measuring the cheese—more is more, right? Also, if you’re the type who loves sneaking bites straight from the pan (guilty!), you’ll appreciate how creamy the sauce gets. This is cozy food with all the familiar flavors of chicken pot pie, except you don’t have to deal with pastry. I used to dread that part. (If you’re a patient baker, good for you; I’ll wave from my orzo kingdom!)

What You’ll Need (And a Few Swaps I Make When I’m Lazy)

2 cups cooked chicken (rotisserie is my shortcut, but any leftover chicken works)
1 tablespoon olive oil or 2 if your pan is sticky—some days it’s just easier
1 small yellow onion, diced (you can use a shallot if that’s all you’ve got…learned that one by accident)
2 carrots, peeled and diced—or frozen peas and carrots, honestly, works too
2 celery stalks, diced (I’ve skipped this; it’s actually fine without, promise)
2 garlic cloves, minced (jarred garlic in a pinch…nobody’s judging)
1 1/2 cups orzo (about 250g, but you can fudge it a bit)
3 cups chicken broth (homemade is dreamy—storebought is just dandy)
3/4 cup milk (whole or 2%—honestly, some half and half is magic)
1/2 cup frozen peas (give or take—no drama if you hate peas, leave ‘em out)
3/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese (my Gran swore by ‘Seriously Strong,’ but orange cheddar also makes it look more comforting, somehow)
Salt, pepper, and a little squeeze of lemon (I usually forget the lemon, but when I remember, wow)
Fresh thyme or parsley, chopped, if you’re feeling chef-y

How I Actually Make It (With Detours)

Grab a big deep skillet or Dutch oven (one you really like, it’ll make you feel legit). Warm up your olive oil over medium heat. Toss in your onion, carrot, and celery. Cook until stuff looks soft—7-ish minutes? (Honestly, I wander off, then remember and scramble back.)
Stir in the garlic, cook for about a minute, and try not to burn it (I’ve done that more than once and it’s a hard flavor to disguise…)
Dump in the orzo. Stir it around so it picks up a bit of toasty color. No need to stress if some of the bits stick—just keeps things interesting.
Add the chicken broth, milk, and a good pinch of salt and pepper. Stir it up and let it come to a gentle bubble—not a rolling boil, unless you like to clean your stovetop a lot.
Reduce heat, cover, and let it simmer for 10–12 minutes. Stir every couple of minutes. (This is when I do the dishes or, let’s be honest, scroll Instagram; but don’t wander too far, orzo can go gluey fast.)
About 8 minutes in, chuck in your peas and give it a good stir. Keep going until the orzo is creamy but not total mush. Taste for salt, obviously—and this is usually where I sneak a spoonful.
Off the heat, add cooked chicken and cheese. Stir everything together until it’s glossy and melted together. If it looks stiff, splash a bit more milk in—it’s more forgiving than you think.
Squeeze over some lemon, scatter whatever green stuff you have, and that’s it. (Don’t stress if you forget the herbs—sometimes I just get too hungry.)

Notes From My (Sort Of) Well-Organized Kitchen

I once doubled the cheese. Not sorry.
If your orzo drinks up all the liquid before it’s cooked, just add another splash of broth or milk. It’s not an exact science.
It thickens up A LOT as it sits. Sometimes I’ll reheat it with a splash of broth, but I’ll admit I also eat it cold from the fridge (don’t knock it ‘til you try it).

Tinkering With Variations (Not All Are Glorious)

Once I swapped cheddar for a mix of mozzarella and parmesan—surprisingly creamy.
Added mushrooms once, and it was delish (my youngest insisted they were “sneaky”—as if I was running a culinary con).
Tried to make it vegan with almond milk and nut cheese. Ehh. It tasted kind of like regret. Maybe better luck next time?

If You’re Missing Stuff: Kitchen Gear Hacks

So, technically, this is easiest in a Dutch oven or deep skillet with a lid. But I’ve made it in a cheapie soup pot and even a regular frying pan covered with foil; just watch the heat so it doesn’t scorch. Heavy-bottomed pan is key, though—thin ones seem to shrink the patience right out of me.

How to Store It (If You Have Any Left)

Spoon leftovers into a container with a good lid (I am embarrassingly attached to my food storage tubs). Let it cool before freezing if you go that route. Keeps in the fridge for 2–3 days, maybe longer, but honestly in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you do freeze, add extra milk or broth when reheating or it’s going to come out a bit, uh, lumpy.

The Way We Serve It (And Occasionally Jazz It Up)

I usually spoon it into wide bowls and top with extra cheese (because someone always complains theirs is cheeseless in the very center). Sometimes I serve it with a big salad or crusty bread to mop up the sauce. My brother claims it’s best with a side of frozen sweetcorn. Each to their own! (My personal favorite: big mug in hand, eaten straight in front of the TV—don’t tell.)

Pro Tips (Aka, I Learned the Hard Way)

I once tried rushing the orzo on high heat—it turned into one giant noodle blob. Low and slow is better, trust me.
Don’t skip the cheese for “health.” It’ll just taste a bit, well, sad.
Scrape the bottom of your pan when you stir. Otherwise you *will* have mysterious scorched bits sneaking in.

FAQ—Because Apparently People Actually Ask Me

Can I make it ahead? Yep! Actually, I think this tastes better the next day—just add a splash of broth and reheat gently. If it’s bone dry, I probably left the lid off. Oops.
Can I use rice instead of orzo? Technically, yes, but it needs more liquid and takes longer. Orzo’s what gives it that fake pie-crust vibe, though.
Do kids eat it? My little crew does—unless I get wild with too many veggies. So I hide them (the veggies, not the kids… although some days…)
What if I don’t eat chicken? Use leftover turkey, or go full veggie and throw in chickpeas. I’ve tried smoked tofu once—didn’t love it, but it technically worked.
Can I freeze it? You can, but it’s creamiest fresh. If you’ve got freezer space (lucky you), try those freezing pasta tips from Serious Eats—they know their stuff.

And just because I promised quirk: did you know orzo isn’t actually rice, technically? Blew my mind the first time. Anyway, try this out—it might become your rainy day “I’m too tired for pie” favorite the way it has for us! If you want to nerd out on more one-pot pasta magic, check out Budget Bytes’ one-pot wonders—I steal ideas from there often (shh!).

Creamy Chicken Pot Pie Orzo