Pin It There's something about a bowl of cold noodles that hits different on a warm afternoon. I discovered this recipe during one of those lazy Sundays when I had leftover chicken and a craving for something bright and refreshing, but nothing in my pantry screamed traditional. I started rummaging—peanut butter, lime, a half-forgotten bottle of sesame oil—and suddenly the kitchen smelled like a Thai street market I'd visited years ago. What emerged was this vibrant tangle of noodles that somehow tasted both comforting and unexpectedly elegant, the kind of dish that makes you feel clever for throwing it together without a plan.
I made this for a potluck once, nervous because I was bringing a salad to a gathering full of casseroles and baked goods. The bowl came home completely empty, with a sticky note attached asking for the recipe. It was the moment I realized that sometimes the simplest, most honest food—cold noodles with barely any fuss—wins over everyone else's carefully timed oven dishes.
Ingredients
- Boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 300 g): Shred them while still warm and they'll absorb the dressing better; you can poach, grill, or even use a rotisserie bird if you're short on time.
- Spaghetti or rice noodles (300 g): Rice noodles give a lighter, more delicate texture, but regular pasta works beautifully too if that's what you have.
- Red bell pepper, thinly sliced: The raw crunch is essential here; it's what keeps every bite interesting.
- Shredded carrots (1 cup): They add natural sweetness that balances the tangy lime and salty soy perfectly.
- Spring onions, thinly sliced (2): Use both the white and green parts—the white brings a sharper bite, the green brings freshness.
- Fresh cilantro, chopped (1/2 cup): If you're cilantro-averse, mint or Thai basil step in beautifully.
- Roasted peanuts, roughly chopped (1/4 cup): Don't skip the final topping; they're what keep this from feeling like a diet salad.
- Cucumber, julienned (optional): Summer's best cameo role if you have one on hand.
- Creamy peanut butter (1/3 cup): The soul of the dressing; don't use the natural-oil kind unless you want a broken, separated sauce.
- Soy sauce (2 tablespoons): Use tamari if you need gluten-free; it's earthier and won't make you miss anything.
- Honey or maple syrup (1 tablespoon): Just enough sweetness to round out the lime's sharp edges.
- Lime juice (2 tablespoons): Fresh is non-negotiable; bottled juice tastes like regret.
- Rice vinegar (1 tablespoon): It whispers in the background instead of shouting like regular vinegar would.
- Sesame oil (1 tablespoon): A little goes a long way; too much and you're eating a massage oil.
- Fresh ginger, grated (1 teaspoon): Microplane it so it dissolves almost invisibly into the dressing.
- Garlic clove, minced (1): Raw garlic here; it stays bright instead of mellowing into sweet nothing.
- Warm water (2–3 tablespoons): Add slowly so you don't overshoot and end up with dressing soup.
- Chili flakes or Sriracha (1/2 teaspoon, optional): Heat is up to you; I usually add it because life is short.
Instructions
- Cook the noodles until just tender:
- Boil according to package instructions, then drain and run under cold water until they're completely cool—this stops the cooking and keeps them separate instead of clumpy. Shake them dry in a colander and set aside on a plate so they don't steam themselves into a sad mass.
- Whisk the dressing into something silky:
- Combine peanut butter, soy sauce, honey, lime juice, rice vinegar, sesame oil, ginger, and garlic in a large bowl, then add warm water a tablespoon at a time, whisking constantly. You want something that flows but still clings to the noodles—thinner than mayo, thicker than vinaigrette.
- Combine everything in one bowl:
- Add the cooled noodles, shredded chicken, bell pepper, carrots, spring onions, and cucumber (if using) to the dressing, then toss with your hands or two spoons until every strand is glossy and coated.
- Finish and rest:
- Scatter cilantro and peanuts over the top and serve immediately if you like warm noodles and crisp vegetables, or cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes if you want everything cold and the flavors a bit more settled.
Pin It A friend once told me that she always keeps this on rotation for the days when she doesn't want to cook but still wants to feel like she did something good for herself. There's something dignified about a salad that doesn't apologize, that tastes like you meant it.
Make It Your Own
This recipe is a starting point, not a rulebook. Use whatever vegetables are calling to you—shredded cabbage, sliced snap peas, roasted broccoli, even grilled zucchini. The framework of peanut butter, lime, and soy sauce is sturdy enough to hold almost anything, and that's what makes it reliable for last-minute cooking when inspiration is low but the appetite is real. I've made it with turkey, with tofu, with just beans and nothing else, and every version has felt exactly right in the moment.
For Those Who Want Heat
The optional chili flakes or Sriracha aren't an afterthought—they're there because peanut and lime without heat can sometimes feel a bit flat. Start with a quarter teaspoon and taste as you go; you can always add more, but you can't take it back. I usually add a full teaspoon and let the eaters adjust at the table with their own spoons, giving everyone the power to decide how bold their lunch should be.
Storage and Timing
This dish is genuinely better the next day, when all the flavors have gotten to know each other overnight. Make it for dinner and wake up to lunch that tastes intentional instead of improvised. The noodles will soften slightly and absorb more dressing, which some people love and others find too clingy—store the dressing separately if you're prepping ahead and want to control the texture, or just make it fresh each time if you live for that just-tossed texture.
- Keep leftovers covered in the refrigerator for up to three days, though by day three the vegetables start to surrender their crunch.
- If the dressing seems to have separated or thickened overnight, whisk in a tablespoon of warm water to loosen it back to silky.
- Never freeze this—the noodles turn grainy and the vegetables lose their life, making the whole thing taste like a sad, cold memory of itself.
Pin It This pasta is proof that the simplest recipes can be the most generous, giving you something that tastes thoughtful without asking you to struggle. It's the kind of dish that settles into your regular rotation and stays there.
Recipe FAQs
- → What type of noodles work best?
Spaghetti or rice noodles are ideal, with rice noodles offering a gluten-free alternative.
- → Can I substitute the chicken?
Yes, cubed tofu or edamame provide a vegetarian protein option.
- → How do I adjust the dressing consistency?
Add warm water gradually to the peanut lime dressing until it reaches a smooth, pourable consistency.
- → What gives the dish its spicy kick?
Chili flakes or Sriracha can be added for heat according to your preference.
- → How should I store leftovers?
Keep leftovers chilled in an airtight container and consume within two days for best freshness.