A soup made from Christmas leftovers can be simple, or spicy, or creamy; light or bulked out with grains, noodles or potatoes; made meatier with ham or more virtuous with sprouts ... Share your favourite recipe.
I sometimes wonder what the best part of roasting a chicken is: the Sunday lunch, or the fragrant, warming soup later in the week. I have no such issues when it comes to turkey. Family tradition dictates that we have turkey rather than goose at Christmas, but even as it arrives at the festive table, burnished and steaming, I'm thinking more fondly of the broth that will follow than the bird currently being carved. So fondly that on short Christmas visits, I have been known to swipe the carcass and take it home with me.
I had my favourite turkey soup, the one I'm always trying to replicate, in a small cafe in Montpelier, Bristol. The broth was tasty and well seasoned, dotted with shreds of pale turkey, pink cubes of ham, vibrant orange discs of carrot and translucent leeks in pale green rounds. Nearly 15 years later, I can still taste its clean, simple flavours.
A good stock is essential for this festive soup - and I'm going to presume we're all starting with that as a base, made delicious thanks to the bird carcass, veg and herbs. Ditto a pile of turkey - I prefer shredded over cubed, but not too fine. Those with proper festive spreads will also have a bowl of delicious porky pieces to add into their soup. Sadly, the tradition of a Christmas ham has completely passed my family by, and ordering a ham just for soup seems to miss the point of a broth essentially made of leftovers. (Although that doesn't mean I'm not tempted).
Generally I prefer a clear turkey soup, dotted with delicious treats. But if there isn't any meat left on the bird - although there usually is, and it usually needs eating up - then I might make a vegetable soup that goes in the blender and emerges thick and comforting. I like them to be bright and appealing: a lurid orange thanks to handfuls of carrots, or a distinctive pea green. Anything but that rather murky mixed vegetable colour.
Usually, however, my soups are the transparent kind, in which flecks of herbs and chunks of veg float. Throughout the year I can often be found with a chicken soup loaded with chilli and spring onions. But festive soup? I'm more of a purist. I sweat leeks and celery as a base, then add fat circles of carrot into the stock along with the turkey. And always something a deep and savoury green.
For a long time, that would always be cabbage: a savoy cut into thin strands and added not too long before serving. At a pinch I'd go with some shredded sprouts, although it seems something of a waste: a plate of these tiny cabbages, roasted and dotted with blue cheese or bacon, is one of the season's great treats. There are never any left over in our house. But this year, I'll be buying kale specially for this soup. All winter I've been dropping it into chicken broths minutes before serving, and nothing can beat its earthy richness.
So: leeks, carrots, kale. That's my veg selection. Thyme, bay, peppercorns and, of course, salt add flavour. And in a wintery soup, I also like some grains. So long as I know the soup isn't going to be reheated the next day - which, it being Christmas is perfectly possible - I'll add a handful of pearl barley to the pot (otherwise it will go to mush and cloud your soup). In chicken soups throughout the year I often prefer a handful of noodles, but here the barley adds a lovely wholesomeness to the broth - some respite from the richness of Christmas food.
But what makes its way into your turkey soup pot? Do you reach for peppers and spice? Add potatoes and blitz for warmth and comfort? Think that noodles are an absolute essential? Let us know what goes into your leftover Christmas soup - and if that ham would make all the difference.
Turkey soup: a good stock is essential. Photograph: Poppy Barach/Getty Images
