What Makes Drunken Noodles So Moreish

Drunken noodles, or pad kee mao, is the dish I cook most often when I want something on the table in twenty minutes that still tastes like a proper treat. The name has nothing to do with alcohol — the story goes that it was the late-night dish cooked for drinkers, or simply that the chilli heat will make you feel a bit giddy. Either way, it is one of the great weeknight stir-fries of Southeast Asia, and it rewards a bit of attention to detail far more than it demands expensive ingredients.

At its heart it is wide rice noodles, a hot wok, a punchy sauce and a generous handful of holy basil. What sits alongside that is entirely up to you, which is precisely why I make it whenever the vegetable drawer is looking a bit sad and half a pepper, a handful of green beans and a lonely onion need a purpose.

The Ingredients That Actually Matter

You can improvise almost everything in this dish, but there are four things worth getting right.

• Fresh wide rice noodles are ideal, but dried ones are perfectly good. Look for the flat, ribbon-like sen yai if you have an Asian grocer nearby; otherwise a good dried flat rice noodle from the supermarket will do the job.
• Holy basil (bai kaprao) has a peppery, almost clove-like edge that ordinary sweet basil cannot match. Thai basil is the next best thing. If you can only find sweet basil, use it — but add a small pinch of crushed black pepper to mimic that heat.
• Oyster sauce, light soy and fish sauce form the backbone of the sauce. Dark soy is what gives the noodles their deep mahogany colour, so don't skip it if you can help it.
• Thai bird's eye chillies bring the heat. Use as many or as few as you dare, and remember the seeds carry plenty of the fire.

One more thing: a wok that is genuinely hot. A crowded pan steams the noodles instead of charring them, and that smoky edge — the wok hei — is what separates a good plate of drunken noodles from a forgettable one.

Prepping the Noodles and Chicken

If you are using dried noodles, soak them in warm water for about thirty minutes until they are pliable but still firm. They should bend without snapping but not be fully soft. Drain them well and toss with a teaspoon of oil so they don't clump together while you get on with everything else. Fresh noodles just need a quick rinse and a gentle separating by hand.

For the chicken, use thigh meat if you can. It stays juicy under high heat where breast can turn dry and stringy. Slice it thinly against the grain, around half a centimetre thick, so it cooks through in under a minute. A small splash of light soy and a teaspoon of cornflour rubbed into the slices will keep it tender and give it a head start on seasoning.

The sauce takes thirty seconds to mix: two tablespoons of oyster sauce, one tablespoon of light soy, one teaspoon of dark soy, one tablespoon of fish sauce, a teaspoon of sugar and a splash of water. Stir it together in a mug and have it ready by the hob.

Cooking It — Order, Heat and Timing

Get everything chopped and within arm's reach before you turn on the heat. This dish moves fast.

• Heat your wok over the highest flame until it just begins to smoke, then add two tablespoons of neutral oil.
• Add the crushed garlic and chopped chillies and stir for ten seconds — no longer, or they will burn and turn bitter.
• Tip in the chicken and spread it out. Leave it for thirty seconds to catch some colour, then stir-fry until just cooked through.
• Add your harder vegetables — green beans, sliced carrot, broccoli stems — and toss for a minute.
• Add the noodles and pour the sauce down the side of the wok, not over the middle. Toss and lift rather than stir, so the noodles coat evenly without breaking up.
• Throw in softer vegetables, the basil leaves and a good grind of black pepper. Toss for thirty seconds until the basil wilts.

If the noodles seem dry or stubborn, add a tablespoon of water rather than more oil. If they are claggy, your pan was not hot enough — turn up the heat and keep everything moving. Serve immediately, straight from the wok, with nothing more than a lime wedge and perhaps a fried egg on top.

Using Up Whatever You Have

This is where the dish earns its place in the weekly rotation. Almost any vegetable that stir-fries well will work: red or green pepper, mangetout, baby corn, sliced courgette, pak choi, Chinese cabbage, spring greens, even leftover roast chicken or prawns added at the end just to warm through. Firm tofu, pressed and cubed, makes a fine vegetarian version — fry it separately first so it keeps its shape.

What you want to avoid is anything watery. Tomatoes, cucumber and soggy mushrooms will release liquid and stew the noodles. If you are using mushrooms, give them a hard sear on their own first and add them back at the end.

A note on heat: if you are cooking for people with different tolerances, leave the chillies out of the wok and put a bowl of sliced chillies in fish sauce on the table instead. Everyone can then dial in their own fire without ruining the base dish.

Serving and Storing

Drunken noodles are at their best the moment they leave the pan, so call everyone to the table before you start cooking. A squeeze of lime cuts through the salt and richness, and a few extra raw basil leaves on top add a fresh, almost minty lift. If you like it properly Thai, serve with a small dish of prik nam pla — chopped chillies in fish sauce with a squeeze of lime.

Leftovers keep in the fridge for a day or two, though the noodles will soften. Reheat them in a hot pan with a splash of water rather than in a microwave, which tends to turn them rubbery. Cold drunken noodles, straight from the tub, are also a guilty pleasure I would never discourage.

Once you have cooked it a couple of times, the whole thing becomes instinctive: hot pan, quick hands, a handful of basil at the end. That is really all Thai home cooking asks of you, and it gives back far more than it takes.