Rice Noodle, Carrot and Mint Salad with Peanut-Lime Dressing

I've come down with a tenacious strain of spring cleaning-itis. It must be the beautiful weather; I want the house to look and feel light and fresh, too. So yesterday, the refrigerator and floors were scrubbed, the cookbooks were codified (and dusted), the equipment was polished and systematized, and last, the walk-in pantry (which was approaching nightmare status), was given a massive overhaul. In the process of that final activity, I discovered not one, or two, nor even three, but four jars of peanut butter.

The discovery got me thinking of my tried and true, though occasionally unorthodox, relationship with the stuff.

It's best if I begin with a confession: I'm a peanut butter deviant. When the masses opt for the normalcy of peanut butter and jelly, I reach for bananas, raisins, marmalade, or toasted coconut. Family socialization--namely a father for whom peanut butter is the foundation of his nutritional pyramid--explains these mild, sandwich-based transgressions, but it was my later exposure to Southeast Asian food that prompted my more serious peanut butter breaches.

It began with chicken satay and rice paper-wrapped spring rolls, served at a local Vietnamese restaurant, and accompanied by salty-sweet-sour chile-lime peanut sauce. I was infatuated. I attempted the sauce in the privacy of my own kitchen, where I whirled blenders-full of the peanut butter stuff, free from reproach. The early batches were ghastly--I had no sense of direction. But with the help of a short stack of Southeast Asian cookbooks, I blundered (and blendered) until I had it right. In the weeks to follow, most every food that passed my lips was enrobed in said sauce.

These days, peanut butter sneaks it's way into my stews, soups, marinades, wherever a touch of sweetness and creaminess are needed; I have no boundaries. It adds just the right note to the my carrot and noodle salad; a scant tablespoon, whisked into the dressing, helps the dressing coat the noodles, and balances the tang of the lime juice and umami of the fish sauce.

Though I think it is just right as is, it is delicious with chicken or tofu, too, to make it more of a main dish to (I didn't want Kevin to say "we're having carrot noodles for dinner???").

One final confession. It turns out that a two-year-old can temper one's peanut butter ways: before making the salad, I sat down with Nick to share and savor my/our new favorite snack: plain peanut butter on plain graham crackers. Straight-laced can be darned delicious, too.


 
Rice Noodle, Carrot and Mint Salad with Peanut-Lime Dressing 

Thai chile peppers are not available in my neck of the woods, so I opt for smaller, squatter red finger peppers when making Southeast Asian foods; they have a mild sweetness and just the right amount of zing to enliven the noodles without burning the palate.

I use my ersatz version of a mandolin (it looks like a piece of infomercial junk, but works well) to grate the carrots into long, thin shreds; it's not necessary--a box grater is fine, too--but I like the way the mandolin-cut mimics the noodles in size and shape.

4 ounces rice vermicelli noodles
3 tablespoons Thai fish sauce (e.g., naam pla) (or Braggs aminos if making it vegan/vegetarian)
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons freshly grated lime zest
1 tablespoon light brown sugar
1 tablespoon creamy-style peanut butter
2 shallots, finely sliced
2 red chiles, very thinly sliced crosswise (or 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper)
3 large carrots, peeled, then finely grated
About 1 packed cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped
1/4 cup roasted, lightly salted peanuts, chopped
Optional: shredded chicken or diced firm tofu

Follow the package directions to soak the noodles until soft and pliable.

Meanwhile, whisk the fish sauce, lime juice, lime zest, sugar, peanut butter, shallots and chiles in a large bowl; let sit about 5 minutes (to dissolve the sugar).

Add the carrots, drained noodles and cilantro and toss everything together. Top with the peanuts. Makes 4 servings.