Prosciutto & Peas Ramen
Look, I don't know who decided that prosciutto belongs in ramen, but they were probably some kind of genius or complete lunatic—maybe both. This dish is what happens when Italian nonna meets Japanese ramen master at 2 AM and they're both slightly drunk on possibility. The prosciutto does this incredible thing where it gets crispy on the edges but stays silky in the middle, like it can't decide if it wants to be bacon or butter. Those little green peas? They're not just decoration—they pop in your mouth with this sweet brightness that cuts through all that salty, creamy richness like tiny flavor bombs. The whole thing comes together in this Parmesan-laced cream that's so good it makes you question every other soup you've ever eaten. It's fancy enough to impress your pretentious foodie friends but simple enough that you won't hate yourself for making it on a Tuesday. Honestly, if you're not putting cured meat in your noodle soup, what are you even doing with your life?
Pink curls meet green pearls—Cream whispers of soft meadows—Spring coats every slurp
Let Me Tell You...
Buried in the back of my fridge, behind the expired yogurt and that takeout container I was afraid to open, I found half a package of prosciutto and a bag of frozen peas that had been giving me guilt trips every time I opened the freezer.
I was standing there at 7 PM on a Thursday, hungry and slightly desperate, when I had what can only be described as a moment of either brilliance or complete madness.
Why not throw Italian cured meat into Japanese noodle soup?
It sounded like the kind of fusion disaster that would either be amazing or land me in food jail, but I was too hungry to care about cultural appropriation.
The moment that prosciutto hit the hot pan, my kitchen transformed into something that smelled like a fancy Italian restaurant had collided with a ramen shop.
The meat started curling up into these perfect little ribbons, getting crispy and releasing this incredible salty, porky aroma that made my neighbors probably wonder what the hell I was doing over there.
Then I threw in those peas, and they started popping and sizzling like tiny green fireworks, adding this bright sweetness that somehow made the whole thing make sense.
It was like watching two completely different food cultures shake hands and decide to be friends.
When I finally sat down with that bowl, I had to admit I'd accidentally created something pretty spectacular.
The prosciutto had this perfect texture—crispy where it needed to be, silky where it mattered—and those peas were like little bursts of spring sunshine cutting through all that rich, creamy goodness.
The Parmesan in the broth added this nutty depth that tied everything together, making it taste like someone had taken the best parts of carbonara and ramen and forced them to have a beautiful baby.
I found myself eating slower than usual, partly to savor it and partly because I couldn't believe something this good had come from my disaster-prone kitchen.
By the time I scraped the bottom of that bowl, I was already planning my next batch and mentally apologizing to every Italian grandmother I'd probably offended.
But here's the thing about good food—it doesn't care about borders or traditions or what's "supposed" to go together.
Sometimes the best dishes come from throwing caution to the wind and trusting your taste buds over your preconceptions.
That prosciutto and peas ramen became my go-to comfort food, proof that the most unlikely combinations can create the most memorable meals.
Now whenever I have random ingredients staring at me from the fridge, I remember that night and think, "What's the worst that could happen?"
Ingredients
- 8 ounces dried ramen noodles (2 bricks, seasoning packets discarded)
- 4 ounces prosciutto, sliced into thin strips
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 small shallot, finely minced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
- 1/4 cup dry white wine
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- Kosher salt, to taste
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
- 2 tablespoons fresh mint, chopped
Preparation
- Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook ramen noodles for 2–3 minutes until just tender, drain, rinse under cool water, and set aside.
- In a large skillet or saucepan, heat olive oil and butter over medium heat. Add shallot and sauté for 1–2 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook for 1 minute more.
- Add prosciutto strips and cook for 1–2 minutes until just beginning to crisp at the edges.
- Add peas and toss to combine, then pour in white wine. Simmer for 2 minutes to reduce slightly.
- Stir in heavy cream, Parmesan, lemon juice, and lemon zest. Simmer for 2–3 minutes until slightly thickened.
- Season with black pepper and salt to taste. Stir in half the parsley and mint.
- Add cooked noodles to the pan and toss gently to coat in sauce.
- Divide noodles among bowls. Top with remaining herbs and desired toppings.
Chef's Tips
- Add prosciutto strips just until edges begin to crisp - overcooking will make them tough and chewy.
- Use frozen peas and add them directly to the hot pan without thawing to maintain bright color and firm texture.
- Variation: Substitute prosciutto with pancetta or guanciale, and peas with asparagus tips for seasonal variation.
Serving Suggestion
Serve in shallow pasta bowls with freshly cracked black pepper, extra Parmesan, and a glass of chilled Prosecco for an elegant Italian spring dinner.