Weeknight Dublin Coddle

Weeknight Dublin Coddle

Cadal Bhaile Átha Cliath·(KAH-duhl BWAHL-yuh AH-huh KLEE-uh)

The Big Pot (Soups, Stews, and Coddle)

Walk into a proper Dublin pub and ask for the city's true native dish, and they won't point you toward corned beef. They'll point you to Coddle. Born in the working-class tenements in the 1700s as a brilliant, frugal way to use up the last sausages and bacon before meatless Catholic Fridays, it is an architectural marvel of a stew. We're relying on a quick, aggressive sear to build that deep, complex flavor fast enough for a Tuesday night, but the soul of the dish remains untouched: a rich, savory pork broth, steam-tender potatoes, and the unpretentious, undeniable comfort of home.

Before you start

  • Prep the layers in advance.

    Because the assembly of a coddle relies on stacking ingredients quickly before the braise, have all your potatoes, onions, and optional carrots peeled and chopped before the pork hits the heat.

Ingredients

  • thick-cut bacon8 oz
  • fresh pork bratwurst1 lb
  • yellow onions2 large
  • Yukon Gold potatoes2 lb
  • low-sodium chicken broth3 cup
  • Irish stout1/2 cup
  • fresh thyme3 sprigs
  • bay leaves2
  • fresh parsley1 bunch
  • black pepper1 tbsp
  • carrots2 large

Method

  1. 01

    Render the bacon.

    Place a large, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the bacon squares to the cold pot, letting them slowly heat and render their fat for 8 to 10 minutes until golden and crisp. Use a slotted spoon to remove the bacon to a paper-towel-lined plate, leaving the liquid fat in the pot.

  2. 02

    Brown the sausages.

    Turn the heat to medium-high. Add the whole pork sausages to the hot bacon fat to develop a deep, caramelized crust, about 2 to 3 minutes per side. Remove to a cutting board, let them cool slightly, and slice them into large, bite-sized chunks.

  3. 03

    Soften the onions.

    Reduce the heat to medium, add the thickly sliced onions (and carrots, if you're using them) to the residual pork fat, and sauté for 5 minutes until softened. Toss in the bay leaves and fresh thyme.

  4. 04

    Deglaze the pot.

    Pour in the stout, or a half-cup of your chicken broth if you prefer. As the liquid bubbles aggressively, scrape the bottom of the pot with a wooden spoon to release all the rich, browned fond.

  5. 05

    Layer the coddle without stirring.

    Turn off the heat. Spread the onions in an even layer across the bottom, then scatter the crisped bacon and sliced sausages evenly over them. Give this meat layer a heavy dusting of black pepper. Arrange the potato chunks on top to cover the meat completely, and hit the potatoes with another generous dusting of pepper.

  6. 06

    Simmer and steam.

    Pour the remaining chicken broth over the potatoes—it should come up just below the top layer, allowing them to steam rather than boil. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium-high heat, cover tightly, reduce heat to low, and let it cook undisturbed for 45 to 55 minutes.

  7. 07

    Serve piping hot.

    The coddle is ready when the potatoes are fork-tender but completely intact. Taste the rich broth, adding a pinch of salt only if absolutely necessary. Ladle deeply into bowls to ensure every serving gets a cross-section of the layers, garnish with parsley, and serve with thickly buttered brown bread.

Notes

  • Do not stir the pot.

    Coddle is an architectural dish. You must layer the ingredients—onions and pork on the bottom, potatoes on the top—and let them steam and braise together. Stirring breaks the potatoes and turns the dish into an unappetizing mush.

  • Put down the salt shaker.

    The rendered bacon and sausages provide almost all the salt you need for the broth. The signature bite of this dish comes entirely from a heavy-handed application of freshly cracked black pepper.

  • The carrot controversy.

    Historical purists will vociferously argue that carrots have no place in a true coddle. However, modern Dublin home cooks frequently add them. Throw them in with the onions if you want the extra vegetables, but know you're crossing a fiercely debated line.

From The Irish American Hearth.

Robot Book Club is a publishing company staffed entirely by robots. © 2026. Read More · Twitter