In Search for Chinatown’s Legendary Hand Pulled Noodles
It was one of those unpleasantly cold early spring evenings, when my husband and I headed out to Chinatown for dinner after our daily tour in New York City. It was already dark and felt more like a typical New York winter than spring. There was an unexpected strong wind that came from the sea, blew through the steep street canyons to finally whiz past our bare heads, letting us duck each time it cut our faces. After a long day, we both were tired. I felt like I could eat a cow. All I wanted at that moment was to slurp down a bowl of steaming hot noodle soup. I read about one place in Chinatown, where they would make their own hand pulled noodles and where true craftsmanship still exists. I pictured a traditionally family run business, where they would pass down their skills and secret recipe form one generation to another. I thought we should check it out, since the last time I had hand pulled noodles felt like a century ago, when I was only a student in China.
After half an hour walking up and down Chinatown, we were still far from our noodles. My ever so happy husband slowly lost his patience and turned into a grumpy one. I guess empty stomachs are poison for any kind of relationships. “Shouldn’t it be a piece of cake to find that place? Aren’t we in the US where roads and maps supposed to be foolproof?” I asked myself. But we were trapped in the maze of Chinatown, it seems. The hunger must have tricked and played a prank on us. After another while, we suddenly spotted “hand pulled noodles” written on a shop sign of a small, inconspicuous restaurant in this narrow, dark inconspicuous street, named Doyers Street. That must be it! Little did we know that Doyers Street indeed had a very dark history. Because of numerous shootings between organized crime members in the past, the bended street was considered one of the deadliest areas and was therefore also called “The Bloody Angle”.
Pot stickers or “guotie”
The noodle shop was just as mysterious as the street itself. It was a simple and modest place with only a few seats, but loaded with all kinds of knickknacks. The store was so small and packed, you could hardly move around. It was a tat outdated and has surely seen better days. The neon coloured lighting made the cluttered place look almost brutal. Everything in that store indicated that it was more a takeout than a restaurant. My husband looked at me as if he wanted to say “The food should rather be nicer than the interior and worth the crazy search!”. My picture of a cosy, happy family run shop quickly crumbled by that sight. “Could this be a culture shock?” I questioned. It certainly was a reality check. This was not a fancy restaurant. This place was the reality of some very hard working immigrants. I realised, this shop could have also been standing somewhere in China. I was actually too familiar with this kind of shop, where you often have to turn a blind eye on hygiene as well. But hey, who cares about ambience and hygiene as long as the food is tasty and well cooked! As a food ranger, this is very much my philosophy. Otherwise you won’t be able to make any discoveries. “Let's call this an adventure” I said to myself “where the stomach has to make a sacrifice every now and then”. Just to let you know, that is how far my pioneering sprit is willing to go!
Pot stickers or “guotie”
In terms of authenticity, restaurants and eateries in Chinatown were never meant to cater to western diners at first place, but have always aimed to feed its Chinese residents with affordable meals, which allowed them to keep the flavours of their hometowns across all regions of China most original. Therefore, Chinatown is famous for its much down to earth eateries and authentic Chinese food that didn’t need to adapt to the “American palate”. This store was no exception. It plates up the most beautiful Lan Zhou hand pulled noodles and a hell lot of other dishes. You can choose between 5 different kinds of wheat noodles, from regular to fat hand pulled noodles or small and flat, big and flat, even knife peeled noodles and 2 other kinds of rice noodles.
Flat and wide hand pulled noodles with lots of Asian greens
As soon as we were seated and placed our orders, I jumped off to the kitchen in hope to get a glimpse of how our food was made. And there stood in a tiny, dark, sultry kitchen, this hard working man behind a small counter, totally immersed in his thoughts, busily massaging, pulling and swinging the dough in steady motions while his assistant scurried back and forth in the background. Unlike most kitchens, this one was unusually quiet. Only the humming of the kitchen appliances and the simmering and hissing in the pots and pans could be heard. When he noticed me with the camera, his face beamed with pride and a little smile seemed to pull up the corners of his mouth, as if he wanted to welcome the intruder. There was no talking between the chef and his assistant either. Both knew exactly what to do. They were a well-functioning team. The man was a master of his craft. Every move of the chef was quick and precise, as if all he had done in his whole life was making noodles. I thought it was a shame there was no open kitchen. He deserved a stage to perform and showcase his talent to a wider audience. It would have been a fantastic show.
The special bowl
Having seen how the noodles were made, I couldn’t wait to try the food. We ordered some pot stickers and two bowls of flat wide noodles. Compared to other Chinese dumpling places, the skin of the “guotie” was super thin, like those of Japanese or Korean “gyoza”. The inside was moist and filled with pork and vegetables. They were great with vinegar and chilli oil. We soon regretted that we haven’t ordered the regular beef noodles or stir-fried noodles, when we realised that the house special bowls that we had placed did not only contain beef, ox tail and a fried egg but also tendon and tripe and all other sorts of cuts that we were not a fan of. The house special was a bit too special for us. But the flat noodles that were made to soak up the rich broth were just beautiful, slippery and smooth. This odd place really turned out to be a hidden gem. I liked the idea, that I somewhat had a very intimate and private noodle show all to myself, including a very small bill at the end. That evening we staggered back to our flat that we have rented for our stay with mixed feelings and a bit queasy too. But our stomachs were full and totally fine!
As I am writing this post, I found out that this eatery flourished in the past few years and was even able to redesign its original store in Manhattan’s Chinatown while opening another store at the Hong Kong Food Court in Flushing with the same chef. Every time I find out, that a small business is still up and running, surviving despite all odds, I feel very humbled, since life it is not easy for such small businesses. I’m glad these people are doing so well and hope the noodle master will bless hungry customers with his wonderful noodles for a long time to come.