Black Bean Mole Ramen
Mexico has this thing with dark, complex flavors that Americans completely misunderstand, and mole is probably the best example of that. Everyone thinks Mexican food is bright and spicy, lime juice and jalapeños, but mole is something else entirely, smoky and mysterious and built from ingredients that have no business tasting that good together. Black beans, meanwhile, are the most underrated legume on the planet, and I'll die on that hill. When you simmer them in a mole-spiced broth and tangle ramen noodles through the whole thing, something strange and good happens, the kind of meal that makes you pause mid-bite and wonder why you haven't been making this your whole life. It's technically a fusion dish but it doesn't feel like a gimmick, because mole and ramen share the same fundamental philosophy: layered complexity built from simple ingredients treated with patience. The ancho and guajillo chiles give the broth that specific smoky darkness, and the dark chocolate, just a small piece of it, rounds out the bitterness in a way that sneaks up on you. This is a bowl you make on a cold Sunday afternoon and feel slightly smug about, which is exactly the right energy for mole.
Smoke curls from the pot—Black beans braised in mole's kiss—Ramen drinks it in
Let Me Tell You...
Mole is the kind of thing people lie about.
They'll tell you their abuela spent three days making it from scratch, thirty chiles, dark chocolate, turkey fat, the whole production, but what ends up in the bowl is usually a jar they grabbed at the grocery store and hoped you wouldn't notice.
I get it.
Real mole is intimidating, and the first time I tried making it I toasted the chiles too long and the whole apartment smelled like the inside of an ashtray for two solid days.
Pull them the moment they smell fragrant.
Smoke means they're already burned.
Here's the thing nobody tells you about mole: the fundamentals, toasted chiles, dark chocolate, and a long patient simmer, translate surprisingly well to a ramen broth.
The liquid goes dark and complex, almost like something from a restaurant that takes itself very seriously, and black beans make it filling without being heavy, which is a magic trick Mexican grandmothers have been pulling off for centuries.
You end up with something ancient and something completely modern sharing a bowl, and that tension is sort of the whole point.
Gritty mole means you stopped too soon.
A smooth sauce coats the noodles better and the flavor is cleaner.
I made this for the first time on a February Sunday with dried chiles from the back of the pantry and ramen bricks I'd bought in a moment of optimism and then mostly ignored.
The result was so dark and smoky and genuinely good that I felt a little guilty about how easy it had been, like I'd accidentally found a shortcut to something that should have required more suffering.
The chocolate melts into the broth and you barely taste it as chocolate, you just taste this deep, round richness that makes you go back for another spoonful before you've finished the first.
Anything sweeter and you'll tip the whole bowl from savory depth into something uncomfortably close to dessert.
There's a cultural collision built into this bowl that is part of what makes it worth eating.
Mole is ancient, rooted in pre-Columbian Mexico, one of those preparations that survived empires and colonization and still shows up on family tables every Sunday like nothing happened.
Ramen has its own centuries-deep history, its own rituals, its own devoted practitioners who will absolutely judge your broth.
Putting them together is either deeply respectful or mildly absurd, and I've decided it's a little of both, which is exactly why it works.
Ingredients
- 6 oz dried ramen noodles (2 bricks, seasoning packets discarded)
- 2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 3 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
- 2 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded
- 1 oz dark chocolate (70% cacao or higher), roughly chopped
- 1 tablespoon sesame seeds, toasted (plus more for serving)
- 1 medium white onion, roughly chopped
- 4 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
- 2 roma tomatoes, halved lengthwise
- 1 chipotle pepper in adobo sauce, plus 1 teaspoon of the adobo sauce
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 4 cups low-sodium vegetable broth, divided
- 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or vegetable oil), divided
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- Kosher salt, to taste
Preparation
- Heat a dry skillet over medium heat. Add the ancho and guajillo chiles one at a time, pressing each flat with a spatula, and toast for 30 seconds per side until fragrant but not smoking. Transfer to a heatproof bowl, cover with 2 cups of boiling water, and soak for 15 minutes until softened and pliable.
- While the chiles soak, heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add the chopped onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5-6 minutes until golden and softened. Add the smashed garlic cloves and the tomatoes cut-side down, pressing lightly, and cook for another 3-4 minutes until the tomatoes are lightly charred and collapsed.
- Drain the soaked chiles and discard the soaking liquid. Transfer chiles to a blender along with the cooked onion, garlic, and tomatoes, the chipotle pepper and adobo sauce, dark chocolate, toasted sesame seeds, cumin, cinnamon, cloves, smoked paprika, and 1 cup of the vegetable broth. Blend on high for 2-3 minutes until completely smooth.
- Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil in the same large pot over medium heat. Pour in the blended mole sauce and cook, stirring constantly, for 3-4 minutes until it darkens slightly and thickens. Add the remaining 3 cups of vegetable broth and stir to combine. Bring to a simmer.
- Add the drained black beans to the mole broth. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the broth is thick, deeply flavored, and coats the back of a spoon. Stir in the lime juice and season generously with kosher salt to taste.
- Bring a separate pot of salted water to a boil. Add the ramen noodles and cook for 2-3 minutes until just tender with a slight chew. Drain and rinse briefly under warm water.
- Divide the noodles between serving bowls. Ladle the hot black bean mole broth generously over the noodles, making sure to distribute plenty of beans into each bowl. Finish with a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds and serve immediately with any optional toppings on the side.