Butter Chicken Ramen


Butter chicken and ramen aren’t supposed to meet, but here they are sitting in the same bowl like it’s no big deal. The sauce wraps around noodles with a clingy kind of love, rich and tomatoey with cream that makes it taste almost criminal. You know it’s wrong, but you also know you’d make it again tomorrow. Every slurp feels like cheating on tradition, except it’s too good to feel guilty. The steam rising smells like spice markets collided with a noodle shop. Honestly, this is the kind of comfort food that doesn’t care what anyone thinks.
Tikka meets miso—or sauce clings to every strand—red broth, golden soul.
Let Me Tell You...
My kitchen smelled like something out of a fever dream.
Chicken searing in butter, onions sweating down until they begged for mercy, turmeric staining the wooden spoon like a crime scene.
I wasn’t aiming for a masterpiece, just trying to survive another Tuesday night with whatever I had in the fridge.
Then I saw the ramen bricks sitting there, smug in their plastic.
Rice felt too safe.
Too boring.
So I went rogue and tossed the noodles into curry.
Chaos, yes.
But the good kind.
Pale meat makes a weak curry base and ruins the flavor.
The first forkful shut me up.
Creamy tomato sauce wrapped around springy noodles like they’d been married in secret.
Garam masala hit first, then paprika, then ginger, each spice punching like it wanted to headline.
The cream rounded everything out, made it luxurious without turning it bland.
I ate standing over the stove, no plate, no manners, just greedy slurps that made the walls echo.
It was messy and loud and perfect.
Cold spice in cold sauce is just sadness pretending to be flavor.
My friend stopped by halfway through, wrinkled his nose at the idea, then demanded a bowl once he caught the smell.
He accused me of culinary treason, then polished it off so fast he forgot to complain.
Butter chicken ramen doesn’t beg for approval.
It dares you to hate it, and most people can’t.
The bowl disappears before your brain catches up to what’s happening.
Otherwise they’ll suck up all your sauce and betray you.
The funny part is I can’t go back now.
Whenever I think of butter chicken, I see noodles waiting for their turn.
It feels permanent, like a tattoo I didn’t mean to get but secretly love.
Authentic?
Maybe not.
Worth making again?
Absolutely.
And I’d argue with anyone who says otherwise, just not while I’m eating.
Ingredients
- 2 bricks ramen noodles (about 8 oz dry)
- 1 lb boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-size pieces
- 1 tbsp butter
- 1 tbsp neutral oil (like canola or avocado)
- 1 small onion, finely chopped
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tbsp fresh ginger, grated
- 1.5 tbsp garam masala
- 1 tsp ground cumin
- 1 tsp smoked paprika
- 1/2 tsp turmeric
- 1/4 tsp cayenne (optional)
- 1/2 cup tomato puree
- 1 cup chicken broth
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- Salt to taste
- Fresh cilantro, chopped (plus more for topping)
Preparation
- Heat butter and oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until butter is melted.
- Add onion, garlic, and ginger; sauté for 5–6 minutes until softened and fragrant.
- Stir in garam masala, cumin, paprika, turmeric, and cayenne; toast spices for 1 minute.
- Add chicken pieces and sear until lightly browned on all sides, about 6–8 minutes.
- Pour in tomato puree and chicken broth; stir well and bring to a simmer.
- Reduce heat and cook for 10 minutes until chicken is fully cooked and sauce thickens slightly.
- Stir in heavy cream and simmer 2–3 more minutes; season with salt to taste.
- Cook ramen noodles in a separate pot of boiling water for 3 minutes; drain well.
- Divide noodles into bowls and ladle butter chicken curry over top.
- Garnish with cilantro and desired toppings before serving.
Chef's Tips
- Toast spices in butter for at least a minute to unlock deeper flavor.
- Brown chicken pieces before simmering for richer taste and texture.
- Variation: Use paneer or tofu instead of chicken for a vegetarian option.
Serving Suggestion
Serve in wide bowls with cilantro, toasted cashews, and a lime wedge for a bright, rich finish.