How Many Cups Is 2 3 2 3

So there I was, staring at a scribbled note on my counter. My friend had texted me her secret cookie recipe, and the ingredient list just said: “butter: 2/3 2/3.” I blinked. Two-thirds comma two-thirds? Was I supposed to stir it twice? Or did she mean two thirds of a cup, twice? I almost threw the note away in frustration. But then, the baker’s math brain kicked in, and I realized that “2/3 2/3” is just a lazy shorthand for two separate thirds of a cup.

You’ve probably seen this weird notation before. Maybe in a family recipe, or a frantic text from a friend who can’t find their measuring cup. It looks like a typo. But seriously, “2/3 2/3” is almost always referring to a quantity of dry or liquid ingredients that you measure twice. Think of it as a repeating decimal in life: add 2/3, then add another 2/3.

So, how many cups is that? Let’s do the quick math so you don’t have to. 2/3 + 2/3 = 4/3. And 4/3 of a cup is the same as 1 and 1/3 cups. That’s it. No magic, no hidden kitchen tricks. Just a little fraction addition that feels ridiculously satisfying once you nail it.

But wait—what if the note said “2 3 2 3”? That’s a whole different beast. If someone writes “2 3 2 3” without a slash or fraction, they might be writing a sequence. You know, like a dance move: two steps, three steps, two steps, three steps. Or, more likely, they’re trying to write two-and-three-quarters cups but forgot the decimal. Honestly, I’ve seen worse. Pinterest recipes are wild.

Let me be real with you: most of the time, when you see “2/3 2/3” in a recipe context, the writer is just being lazy. They mean 1 1/3 cups total. But I’ve also seen it used for layering. Like, “add 2/3 cup of flour, then 2/3 cup of sugar.” That’s two separate measurements, not a total. It’s like they want you to do the math yourself—which, frankly, is a little rude.

The Real Kitchen Confusion

Remember that time you accidentally put double the salt because you read “tsp” as “tbsp”? Yeah, been there. Measuring mishaps happen to the best of us. The “2/3 2/3” ambiguity is just another trap for the distracted cook. Pro tip: If the recipe calls for two separate cups of 2/3, you’ll end up with 1 and 1/3 cups.

But what if you don’t even have a 2/3 cup measure? (I don’t. Mine is at the bottom of a drawer somewhere.) You can just use a 1/3 cup twice. That’s the same thing, and it feels like a tiny victory every time. Or, grab a 1-cup measure and fill it to the 1 and 1/3 mark.

Here’s where it gets funny. I once saw a recipe that said “2/3 2/3 cup of milk”—with the word “cup” after the second number. That’s like saying “two-thirds two-thirds cup.” My brain short-circuited. After a long, confused shower, I concluded they meant 1 and 1/3 cups of milk. And you know what? The cake turned out fine.

How to Avoid This Mess Altogether

Look, I’m not telling you to rewrite your grandma’s recipe box. But if you’re the one writing notes, please use clear fractions. Write “1 1/3 cups” instead of “2/3 2/3.” Your future self (and your friends) will thank you. Also, please don’t write “2 3 2 3” unless you’re teaching a toddler to count.

And if you are the one reading it? Assume it means 1 and 1/3 cups unless the recipe explicitly says “add 2/3 cup, then another.” Trust me, 99% of the time, that’s the answer. The other 1% is probably a typo or a prank.

So next time you see that weird string of numbers, don’t panic. Take a breath, grab your calculator (or your fingers), and add them up. You’re smarter than a piece of paper with a scribble. And if you’re still confused, just google “how many cups is 2/3 + 2/3” like I did. No shame.

Now go make that recipe. You’ve got 1 and 1/3 cups of reasons to bake today. And maybe invest in a liquid measuring cup with metric markings—I hear the French don’t have this problem.