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Why It Works
- Melting the peanut butter spread and lard in the microwave makes it easier to mix with the other ingredients.
- Garlic oil gives the sauce a sweet, aromatic note.
- Vigorously mixing the peanut butter, lard, garlic oil, dark soy sauce, toasted sesame oil, and noodle cooking water creates a smooth, silky sauce that effortlessly clings to the noodles.
Since moving to New York in 2023, I’ve been on a quest to find the best ban mian—peanut butter noodles—in the city. Now, you might be picturing a fairly ordinary dish with a dollop of this nutty condiment tossed in like an afterthought. But the very best versions are deeply savory and slick with a mixture of creamy peanut butter, soy sauce, and sesame oil.
In Fuzhou, a city in China’s Fujian province, ban mian—literally “mixed noodles”—is typically served alongside other small dishes, such as dime-sized dumplings and sparerib soup. In other parts of Fujian province, cooks toss the noodles with soy sauce seasoned with sugar and white pepper. While the sauce can be made with sesame paste or sesame oil, Fujian families in both China and New York City mostly rely on peanut butter to coat the noodles, making them extra creamy and nutty.
Across New York’s various Chinatowns, where many Fujian immigrants live, you’ll find these noodles in abundance. I’m a regular at Shu Jiao Fu Zhou, a popular snack shop in Manhattan known for its craggly dumplings and fish balls in soup. The restaurant also serves up a delicious rendition of ban mian—and because it’s only a few blocks from my apartment, I often venture in for a bowl. Despite the long line that often snakes out the door, it takes just about five minutes for an order of peanut butter noodles to arrive at the table. The servings are incredibly hearty, sometimes the equivalent of two hefty portions, and yet I always finish an entire plate on my own.
My love for peanut butter noodles has even led me abroad. After sampling over a dozen versions in New York, I did what any compulsive noodle eater should do: I traveled to Fuzhou to taste the noodles that inspired the versions made and served at my favorite Chinatown institutions. Over two weeks, I sampled version after version of these creamy, nutty noodles. It didn’t matter when or where I ate them—somehow, each spot managed to deliver a bowl of bouncy, savory noodles superior to anything I’d ever had in New York.
Back home, Shu Jiao Fuzhou remains my favorite place for ban mian in New York. Still, my trip to China inspired me to drum up my own version—which is how I landed on the recipe below.
Serious Eats / Qi Ai
Recreating the Perfect Bowl of Ban Mian at Home
I turned to several members of Fuzhou America, a cultural organization connecting the Fujian diaspora, for their thoughts on this iconic dish. One member, Christina Chen, founder of Chenzi, a company that specializes in small-batch Fuzhou-style potato balls, recommends tossing the noodles with the starchy noodle water to help the glossy sauce successfully cling to the noodles like pasta water. Meanwhile, Diane Yeung, a fellow writer and noodle evangelist who accompanied me to Fuzhou, likes adding a spoonful of chili crisp to her noodles, an ode to her mom’s version.
There’s also a heated debate among home cooks about whether Jif or Skippy is best. (I’m firmly in the Skippy camp.) Among the ban mian faithful, everyone has a strong opinion about what makes the best noodles with the highest effort-to-reward ratio. Chances are, if you become a ban mian devotee, you’ll likely develop strong opinions about the dish, too.
There are many takes on ideal sauce, but I firmly believe the best versions include creamy peanut butter, lard, dark soy sauce, garlic oil, and sesame oil. The peanut butter must be melted and smooth enough to combine with the soy sauce and sesame oil, and garlic is a must. Some recipes call for minced garlic or garlic powder, but I prefer the subtle, deeply aromatic notes of garlic oil. (For ease and convenience, I call for store-bought garlic oil, but you could use homemade garlic confit oil if you have any on hand.)
Noodle choice varies in this dish, as well. I’ve seen ban mian made with thick, round rice noodles, squiggly instant noodles, and slick, spaghetti-like strands. My favorite noodles for ban mian are the thick, chewy, fresh wheat noodles commonly found in Northern Chinese wonton soups.
Here, I melt the peanut butter spread and lard in the microwave until smooth, then add the garlic oil, soy sauce, sesame oil, and some noodle cooking water. Then it’s time to “ban” or vigorously mix the ingredients, an essential step that creates a smooth, silky sauce that effortlessly clings to the noodles. It may not be as good as the versions I enjoyed in Fuzhou, but it’s pretty darn close.
Serious Eats / Qi Ai


