The spicy peanut butter noodles I've made 73 times and still crave weekly

I started counting after my roommate asked if I was "okay" because I'd made the same noodles three nights in a row. That was two years ago. The current tally sits at 73, though honestly it's probably higher—I stopped tracking after week six when it became clear this wasn't a phase. These noodles have seen me through deadlines, breakups, celebrations, and approximately forty Tuesday nights when cooking felt impossible but ordering in felt worse.

The recipe takes thirteen minutes if you're moving slowly. The peanut butter sauce comes together while the pasta boils, and somehow it tastes complex despite using ingredients that live permanently in my pantry. My friend James, who "doesn't really like peanut butter," has requested this four times. My mom made it for her book club. The seventy-three times aren't about lack of imagination—they're about finding something that works and not overthinking it.

The basic formula

Yield: 2 servings as main dish
Prep time: 5 minutes
Cook time: 8 minutes
Total time: 13 minutes

Ingredients

For the noodles:

• 8 oz (225g) spaghetti or rice noodles
• 2 tablespoons sesame oil (1 for tossing, 1 for finishing)
• Salt for pasta water

For the sauce:

• ¼ cup (65g) natural peanut butter (smooth or chunky)
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
• 1 tablespoon maple syrup or agave
• 1-2 teaspoons chili garlic sauce (or sriracha)
• 1 clove garlic, grated
• 2-3 tablespoons hot pasta water

Quick toppings:

• 2 green onions, sliced
• Handful of cilantro, roughly chopped
• 1 tablespoon sesame seeds
• Crushed peanuts
• Extra chili oil if you want heat

Instructions

Start the pasta water. Salt it generously—this is your only chance to season the noodles themselves. While it comes to a boil, make the sauce so everything's ready when the pasta is.

Make the sauce. In your serving bowl (yes, the same bowl you'll eat from), whisk together peanut butter, soy sauce, rice vinegar, maple syrup, chili garlic sauce, and grated garlic. It'll look thick and suspicious. Don't panic.

Cook the pasta according to package directions minus one minute (usually 7-10 minutes total, check your package—you want al dente). Before draining, scoop out about ½ cup of the starchy pasta water—you'll need it.

Bring the sauce together. Add 2-3 tablespoons of hot pasta water to your peanut butter mixture and whisk vigorously. Watch it transform from thick paste into smooth, glossy sauce. If it's still too thick, add more pasta water one tablespoon at a time. You want it pourable but not watery.

Toss everything together. Drain the pasta (don't rinse it—you want that starch), immediately add it to the sauce bowl with 1 tablespoon sesame oil, and toss until every strand is coated. The residual heat will finish cooking the pasta and help the sauce cling.

Add toppings and serve immediately. Pile on the green onions, cilantro, sesame seeds, and crushed peanuts. Drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon sesame oil and extra chili sauce if you want more heat. The first bite hits with creamy peanut richness, then the heat builds slowly while the sesame oil rounds everything out.

Why this works

The hot pasta water is crucial—it loosens the peanut butter and creates a sauce that actually coats the noodles instead of clumping. The sesame oil added at the end brings everything together and adds a subtle nuttiness that makes the dish taste more complex than it is.

I've made this with rice noodles when I'm feeling it, soba when I'm pretending to be fancy, and regular spaghetti most of the time because that's what's always in my pantry. All versions work. I've doubled it for meal prep, halved it for solo dinners, and tripled it when people come over. The ratio holds.

Storage notes

These keep in the fridge for 3-4 days, though the noodles will absorb some sauce and firm up. Add a splash of water and a drizzle of sesame oil when reheating, either in the microwave (1-2 minutes, stirring halfway) or in a pan over medium heat. Some people prefer them cold straight from the fridge—that's how I eat the leftovers for lunch, if there are any.

The sauce itself can be made ahead and stored in a jar in the fridge for up to a week. Just add pasta water when you're ready to use it.

The point

Seventy-three times sounds excessive until you find your version of these noodles—the thing you make when you're too tired to think but still want to eat something that tastes intentional. This isn't about culinary adventure or expanding your repertoire. It's about recognizing when something works and giving yourself permission to make it again. And again. And probably next Tuesday too.