Let Me Tell Ya About My Chicken Pot Pie with Biscuits

Alright, gather round! So the first time I made this chicken pot pie with biscuits, I was 22, fresh out of my folks’ house, convinced I could conquer roast chicken in a tiny apartment oven. (Spoiler: it was dry as shoe leather, but that’s another story.) Since then, this recipe’s become my weeknight hero, especially when it’s raining cats and dogs outside or my family’s dropping hints that pasta—again—would be a crime. Plus, there was that one time my cousin Matt tried to eat it straight from the baking dish. Still teases me about my over-browned biscuits, but you live and learn!

Why I Think You’ll Love This (Or, At Least, Not Hate It)

Honestly, I whip this up when the fridge looks sad and I need comfort food—sometimes I’m even a little lazy and use rotisserie chicken (don’t judge, it’s Tuesday!). My family eats seconds (okay, thirds), probably because it’s creamy and biscuits make everything better. And if you, like me, have ever made a pie crust out of desperation and flour-dust regret, this biscuit topping’s a piece of cake. Or, uh, you know what I mean. Sometimes the hardest part is not eating the filling before it hits the oven, truly. (My youngest calls dibs on the crunchy biscuit bits—no negotiation.)

What You Need (But Swaps Are Welcome!)

2 cups cooked chicken, shredded (rotisserie works, or honestly, leftover turkey or a clutch of cooked thighs—whatever’s easiest)
1 cup carrots, diced (though frozen mixed veg is my go-to when life gets busy)
1 cup frozen peas (sometimes I skip peas for corn, if that’s what’s lurking in the freezer—no one complains)
1 small onion, chopped (my gran swore by yellow onions, but red or shallots do fine, promise)
2 garlic cloves, minced (or a hefty spoonful of pre-minced from a jar when I’m feeling lazy)
3 tbsp butter (I once tried with margarine… not my best move)
3 tbsp all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups chicken stock (homemade is nice but boxed is 100% fine too)
1 cup milk (whole makes it richer but if you’ve only got skim, use that and pretend it’s intentional)
1/2 tsp dried thyme (fresh is great, but who has fresh thyme in May?)
Salt and pepper (start with a good pinch; adjust as you go, trust your tastebuds)
Biscuit Topping: One batch of your favorite biscuit dough (even the tube biscuits from the store work, though shhh, don’t tell my aunt!)

How I Actually Make It (Some Steps Are… Flexible)

Prep the oven & stuff. Preheat your oven to 400°F (about 200°C, or “hot enough to make the kitchen cozy”). Butter a medium baking dish—mine’s 8×8 inches—but if you only have a big dish, it still works. Just add more biscuits!
Sauté the veggies to fragrant glory. Grab a big skillet, melt butter over medium heat, and toss in onions and carrots. Cook until soft (takes 5-7 minutes? Just don’t let it burn). Garlic joins the party for a minute, then comes the flour; sprinkle it in and stir till everything’s pasty and weird-looking (this is normal; don’t panic).
Magically transform it to sauce. Pour in the chicken stock, a bit at a time, whisking out lumps. Add milk and thyme, then simmer until thick enough that you can run a spoon through it and see a trail—usually about 5 minutes. If it gets too thick, add a splash more milk or stock. I sneak a taste here; the family never notices.
Bring in the chicken and peas/etc. Stir in your shredded chicken and peas (or whatever veg you grabbed). Season with salt and pepper. Give it a stir and let everything get cozy for a couple more minutes.
Pour and biscuit it up! Tip the filling into your baking dish, then gently spoon (or plop, honestly) your biscuit dough on top. I aim for 8 big dollops but sometimes get distracted and end up with 7 weird ones—still tasty.
Bake till golden and bubbly. Into the oven for 25-30 minutes, or until the biscuit tops are golden brown and the edges bubble up. If your biscuits look pale, crank on the broiler for a minute, but DON’T walk away (ask me how I know).
Let it cool a smidge (hotter than the sun, right out of the oven) and serve. It’s best not to burn your tongue, but who am I kidding? I never wait long enough.

Notes From the “Whoops” Files

If you’re out of milk, half cream/half water honestly works (don’t tell the dairy police).
Using self-raising flour in the biscuit dough? It’s a little fluffier, but you might want to cut the baking powder by half.
Don’t stress about the biscuit shapes; rustic is in, and family cares about taste, not geometry.
Once, I cooked the sauce too long and it got clumpy. A whisk and extra stock fixed it mostly, so don’t toss if things go sideways!

Variations I’ve Actually Tried (Plus A Dud)

Swapped chicken for mushrooms & white beans—turns out, the vegetarians at my table were delighted!
Added chopped bacon to the filling because, well, bacon. So much flavor.
Once tried with sweet potatoes. Good in theory, but everyone missed regular potatoes; maybe it’s a mindset thing?
Have even used puff pastry on top when I had a half sheet lingering in the fridge (works, but biscuits are cozier in my opinion).

What If I Don’t Have Fancy Equipment?

I use my trusty 8×8 baking dish, but you can totally use a big pie pan or even a heavy skillet. If you don’t have a pastry cutter for biscuit dough, two forks or even clean hands work just fine. (I sometimes use a wine bottle as a rolling pin. No shame!)

Will It Keep?

Yes, though honestly it barely lasts half a day around here. You can cover leftovers and refrigerate for up to 2 days; reheat at 350°F until hot, or zap single servings in the microwave (covered, or risk dry biscuit crumbs everywhere—ask my dog why that’s a problem). I think it tastes even better the next day, if you’re lucky enough to have any left!

How We Serve It (Or: Family Rituals, For What That’s Worth)

This is always center table, piping hot. I like a side salad or roasted veggies to pretend I’m balanced, and we always end up fighting over the last biscuit. Sometimes I sneak in a spoonful of cranberry sauce if it’s lurking at the back of the fridge—adds a nice pop, if you like weird combos.

Stuff I Wish I’d Known (Pro-ish Tips)

I once tried to skip letting the sauce thicken properly, thinking it’d finish thickening in the oven. Nope, just floated biscuit islands. So: do not rush the thickening part, trust me.
Don’t forget to taste as you go. I used to be nervous about adjusting seasoning, but honestly, even a little too much thyme never hurt anybody. (Probably.)
If using store-bought biscuit dough, keep an eye near the end—burnt biscuit bottoms are no one’s friend.

FAQ (Yes, People Have Actually Asked!)

Can I freeze this? You totally can, but the biscuit topping sometimes gets a bit dense. Bake, cool, wrap tight, and freeze. Reheat in the oven—not the microwave, or you’ll regret it. Here’s a guide I like about freezing casseroles: Kitchn’s tips.
What about making it ahead? Absolutely. Just keep the filling in the fridge up to 2 days; top with biscuits and bake when ready. If you add biscuits before refrigerating, they go a bit soggy, so I don’t recommend that (unless you like it that way? No judgment).
Best chicken for this? Rotisserie chicken makes life easier—and it’s what Serious Eats always says to do. But any leftover, cooked chicken is fine. I’ve even poached a couple breasts when desperate, but that’s Plan C.
Is there a gluten-free version? I haven’t nailed it, but my friend Lucy swears by Cup4Cup for both the filling and the biscuit. I’m still experimenting; if you find a winner, let me know, hey?
Can I double it? Sure, double everything and bake in a big ol’ 9×13. Just add a tad more time if the biscuits look pale.

Anyway, hope you give this chicken pot pie with biscuits a go. If you figure out a shortcut I haven’t tried, spill the beans next time we chat, will you?

Chicken Pot Pie with Biscuits