Noodles bar none

To be honest, it took me a long time before deciding to blog about this place. The reason is because I didn't really feel like sharing it with you guys. Yes, I know, I am a selfish prick. But before you call me names like selfish prick, hear me out please.

Noodle Bar is tiny. It is one of those eateries that believe small is beautiful - very much like Yotsuba. It seats just about a dozen and unlike Yotsuba, it doesn't take reservations. Yes, it is even more a pain in the ass than that sushi bar. So when you consider the fact that I already have to contest with 16 million Beijingers who are almost all faster and more desperate for noodles than me, I am sure you can understand why I would prefer to keep it hush hush.

As it is, turning up at Noodle Bar during lunch is already a contest in desperation. Hidden in this place called 1949 Hidden City - a former factory - Noodle Bar offers you three options when they politely tell you that they are full. One, stand in the cold and wait. Two, go to the nice coffeeshop (below) and wait. Three, be a super cock, order the noodles right away and eat at the bench in the cold in your five layers of winter clothes.


Most people go for Option 2. I was so hungry I chose Option 3. The wait staff was none too pleased because that meant they had to serve me in the sub zero degrees too. Haha. But credit to them for not showing their displeasure too openly, and perhaps knowing that I would freeze to death soon, served me a yummy bowl of beef noodles in less than 5 minutes.

With hands that were fast resembling frozen fish fingers, I scooped up the noodles and ate like my life depended on it. Come to think of it, that may not just be a figure of speech. But if Beijing's cruel cold was going to take away my life, the noodles breathed warm dough into my existence. It was the best beef noodles I have tried here.


The noodles were springy but not too hard and the thick wedge of winter melon in the dark soup was a delight in, erm, winter. A tray of shallots, spring unions, chilli and garlic allowed me to further spice up my soup and the delightful bottle of vinegar that they placed in front of every customer gave the noodles extra zing. Ah, perfecto!

Noodle Bar serves basically just beef noodles (32 yuan each bowl). You can choose either thick or thin noodles and really, they are both good. There was the chef's special lamb noodles when I was there, but I didn't have a chance to try. Despite a thin menu, it offers superb cold side dishes to go with the noodles. Try the century egg with tofu, which is drenched with lots of vinegar. The spicy beef shanks is a good bet too. But of course, try the side dishes only if you get a seat indoors. Not funny to eat cold dishes in such cold.


Midway through my slurping, seats opened up indoors and the kind waiters ushered me in. The place is cosy and just like Yotsuba, the meal is prepared in the open, right by your stool. It is infinitely better than Noodle Loft. Its contact is 10-6501-1949, but it is kinda useless to have its number since it doesn't take reservations. Just head to the Hidden City, walk past the art galleries and you will find the nondescript hut (below). See, told you I am not a selfish prick.