Creamy Potato Smoked Haddock

My neighbor brought over a jar of smoked haddock she'd bought at the fish market, insisting I make something proper with it instead of just pan-frying it plain. That same afternoon, I had potatoes and cream in the kitchen, and something clicked—I'd make a soup that would let the haddock's delicate smokiness shine without getting lost. The first bowl I ladled out had that perfect balance of richness and restraint, and I knew immediately this would become one of those recipes I'd make on quiet weekday evenings.

I made this soup for my sister after she'd had a difficult week, and watching her take that first spoonful—the way her shoulders dropped and she actually smiled—reminded me why cooking for someone matters. The creaminess coated her spoon, flakes of fish scattered through like little treasures, and she asked for the recipe before she'd finished the bowl. Now whenever she mentions feeling under the weather, this is what she requests.

Ingredients

• Smoked haddock fillet, 350 g (skinless and boneless): This is the soul of the soup—buy it fresh if you can, as frozen haddock releases more water and dilutes the flavor.
• Whole milk, 500 ml: Poaching the fish in milk creates a silky base and captures all the subtle smokiness before it has a chance to escape.
• Potatoes, 400 g (peeled and diced): Waxy potatoes like Yukon Gold hold their shape better than floury varieties, giving you a chunky, satisfying texture.
• Medium onion, 1 (finely chopped): The foundation for everything—cook it gently so it melts into the background rather than shouting.
• Leek, 1 (white part only, sliced): Milder than onion, it adds sweetness and a delicate earthiness that complements the fish perfectly.
• Celery stalk, 1 (diced): Just one stalk is enough to add structure and aromatic depth without making the soup taste vegetal.
• Fish or vegetable stock, 500 ml: Use good-quality stock if you have it—the difference shows in the final bowl.
• Double cream, 100 ml: This finishes the soup with velvet, but add it off the heat to keep that delicate texture intact.
• Bay leaf, 1: Floating in the poaching milk, it steadies the fish's flavor and prevents any fishiness from taking over.
• Fresh chives, 2 tbsp (finely chopped): Stir these in at the very end so they stay bright and oniony, a little spark of freshness against all that richness.
• Salt and black pepper, to taste: Taste as you season—the haddock brings its own salt from smoking, so hold back at first.
• Unsalted butter, 2 tbsp: Better to start with unsalted and control the seasoning yourself than battle an overly salty soup.

Instructions

Poach the haddock in milk:

Pour the milk into a saucepan, drop in the bay leaf, and bring it to a gentle simmer—you're looking for small bubbles creeping up the sides, not a rolling boil. Lay the haddock fillets in carefully and let them sit for 7 to 8 minutes; the flesh will turn opaque and flake easily when nudged with a fork. Once cooked, lift the fish onto a plate and let the poaching milk cool slightly before straining it through a fine sieve into a bowl, which captures every bit of that briny, subtle flavor.

Soften the aromatics:

Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat until it foams gently, then add the chopped onion, leek, and celery all at once. Stir every minute or so, letting them soften and release their sweetness—this should take about 5 minutes, and you'll know it's ready when the vegetables have collapsed into a fragrant mass and smell almost sweet.

Build the broth:

Stir in the diced potatoes and cook for 2 minutes so they start to absorb the butter and flavors already in the pot. Pour in both the reserved poaching milk and the stock, then bring everything to a boil before turning the heat down to a gentle simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, until the potatoes are completely tender and a fork pierces them without any resistance.

Blend to texture:

This is where restraint matters—remove the pot from heat and use a hand blender to break down about half the vegetables and potato, leaving plenty of small chunks so the soup feels rustic and substantial rather than smooth and school-canteen. If you don't have a hand blender, you can transfer half the soup to a regular blender, blend it, and stir it back in.

Add the fish and cream:

Flake the cooled haddock into bite-sized pieces, checking carefully for any stray bones, then fold it gently into the soup along with the double cream. Give it a slow 2 to 3 minutes over low heat to warm everything through—bubbling it hard will toughen the fish and break the cream into greasy flecks.

Season and serve:

Taste a spoonful and season with salt and pepper, remembering that the haddock already brings saltiness, so you're fine-tuning rather than building from scratch. Ladle into bowls and scatter the fresh chives over the top so they stay bright and sharp against all that creamy warmth.

Save

There's a particular kind of quiet satisfaction in ladling this soup, in watching the creamy, speckled liquid find its level in a bowl, steam rising off it in gentle spirals. It feels like the kind of dish that earned its place in people's kitchens through nothing but word-of-mouth and repeated success—simple enough not to intimidate, impressive enough to serve with pride.

The Art of Not Overcooking Fish

Poaching haddock in milk is gentler than any other cooking method I know—the milk's fat insulates the delicate flesh and keeps it from drying out. I learned this the hard way, once, boiling fish in plain water and watching it turn to stringy disappointment, so now I always start with milk and a barely-there simmer. The milk itself becomes precious liquid gold, carrying every whisper of the fish's flavor into the finished soup.

On Texture and Partial Blending

A fully blended soup is fine if you're after velvet, but this one needs texture—little chunks of potato that catch your spoon, pieces of flaked haddock to remind you what you're eating. I blend just enough to thicken the broth and make it feel rich, leaving the rest chunky and honest. It's the difference between a soup that feels hurried and one that feels intentional.

Serving Suggestions and Final Touches

Crusty bread is the obvious companion—something dark and grainy that won't turn to mush when you dunk it. A crack of black pepper, a scatter of chives, maybe a sprinkle of flaked sea salt if you're feeling fancy. On very indulgent days, crispy bacon bits scattered over the top add a smoky crunch that plays beautifully against the soup's creaminess.

• Make sure your bowls are warm before ladling—cold ceramic steals heat from the soup and makes it harder to enjoy.
• This soup keeps well in the fridge for 2 days and reheats gently over low heat without the cream breaking.
• If you're cooking for someone with fish allergies, use good vegetable stock instead and the soup becomes a simple potato and leek version—less dramatic but still silky.

Save

This soup tastes like care, like someone took the time to poach fish gently and let potatoes soften the way they wanted to. It's the kind of recipe that makes a quiet evening feel less lonely, or turns an ordinary day into something warmer and more nourishing.

Recipe FAQ

→ How should the smoked haddock be prepared?

Simmer the haddock gently in milk with a bay leaf until just cooked, then flake into bite-sized pieces for the final dish.

→ Can I substitute the smoked haddock with another fish?

Yes, smoked cod or other white fish can be used as alternatives for a similar smoky flavor and texture.

→ What is the best way to achieve the right texture?

Partially blending the soup leaves some chunks for a pleasant mouthfeel, balancing creaminess with hearty bits.

→ How can I make the soup thicker?

Blend the soup longer or add an extra potato to increase body and thickness.

→ What garnishes complement this dish?

Chopped fresh chives add a mild oniony brightness, and serving with crusty bread or crispy bacon enhances flavor.