My 5 Favorite Spots For Noodles In NYC's Chinatown

I once awoke from a dream that I was in a pool of noodles, unable to move under the tangled weight of stretchy carbohydrates. After waking up disappointed by my tragically inedible bedroom, my first stop was Chinatown, the noodle capital of New York City. I've been combing the streets of Chinatown for the last fifteen years on a quest for the best noodle restaurants, and now I know where to go when a need for noodles hits.

If you haven't looked at a world map lately, let me tell you that China is an enormous landmass, and the diversity of noodles being boiled, dressed, dunked, and slurped there is, as you might imagine, staggering. Not only does Chinatown offer the best Chinese food on a budget in NYC, but the neighborhood is brimming with noodles. Cultures from across China have converged in this single lower Manhattan neighborhood, providing New Yorkers and tourists a taste of the country's chewiest, bounciest, richest, most satisfyingly starchy noodles. The restaurants on this list offer noodles swimming in soup, smothered in sauce, and even flavored with peanut butter, highlighting the rich variety of noodles packed into NYC's Chinatown. Here is my curated list of the absolute most delicious noodles you can possibly get in the neighborhood.

If you're somebody who dawdles, ambles, and takes your time, you'll be rudely awakened by the efficiency of this Chinatown noodle heaven. Just a couple of minutes after you pay at the counter at Shu Jiao Fu Zhou (it's cash only), you'll find yourself at a dinky table in front of a hot pile of peanut butter noodles, the restaurant's signature dish. Cooking with peanut butter may seem like an American pastime, but these noodles are distinctly Fujianese, the regional cuisine served at this famously frill-less eatery on Grand Street.

This dish is offered with two choices of noodles: a thinner, chewier wheat noodle or a thicker, more absorbent rice noodle. You can't go wrong with either, but the wheat noodles are a bit stretchier and have more surface area, which means more peanut butter sauce makes its way into each bite. On each table is a metal serving dish full of chili sauce. It's not too spicy, but it's extremely flavorful, and the salty intensity of the chilis complements the richness of the peanut butter. There are also a few noodle soups on the menu that are perfectly slurpable on a chilly winter day.

If there's no place to sit after you place your order, don't worry — the turnover is lightning fast. And why wouldn't it be? The seats are uncomfortable, the acoustics are atrocious, and the lighting is hospital hallway meets frathouse. Also, you'll likely end up sharing a table with a couple of strangers, so it's a shy guy's nightmare and an eavesdropper's paradise. Despite the harsh ambience, Shu Jiao Fu Zhou is always packed — a testament to the quality of the product.

One glance at this eatery's name and you've probably guessed what the main attraction is. Located on Doyers Street, Chinatown's most photogenic alley, Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodle prepares several types of noodles: thick rice, thin rice, knife-peeled, and, of course, the titular hand-pulled variety. Each has its merits and drawbacks, but knife-peeled and hand-pulled offer the most in the way of the unforgettable texture you associate with a delicious homemade noodle.

The hand-pulled noodles have the perfect stretch and snap, and they're almost comically long (great for a "Lady and the Tramp" moment). They're chewy and soft, with a mild nuttiness that hovers in the background of the savoriness of the protein pairing of your choice. While the classic shape and texture of hand-pulled noodles is a big draw, knife-peeled are my preferred type.

Knife-peeled noodles are made by slicing dough off a block with a sharp knife above boiling water, which gives each noodle a unique shape. Some are fatter, with more bounce and a more robust doughy flavor, while others are skinnier, great for absorbing the flavors of sauces and fading into the backdrop as salty roast pork or pan-fried shrimp takes center stage. Even in Chinatown, knife-peeled noodles aren't as common as other varieties, so I recommend ordering at least one dish with this carb. And hit the ATM on your way! This restaurant is cash only.

Every time you slurp a noodle in Chinatown, you're eating centuries of history. The noodles at Bo Ky, for instance, come from the Teochew people, an ethnic Chinese subgroup whose roots in Southeast Asia give this restaurant a particularly Vietnamese take on noodle culture.

If you go to Bo Ky on Bayard Street, you may notice the ducks hanging in the window, waiting to be ordered. In this humble noodle lover's opinion, the duck is best enjoyed atop a steaming hot pile of yellow noodles, stretched thin, with a rich flavor and slightly more brittle texture than your average pulled noodle. If you're in the mood for pho, a Vietnamese dish you need to try if you haven't already, order Bo Ky's beef flat noodle variety. The noodles in this pho are thicker and chewier than typical pho noodles, and pair perfectly with a deep, velvety broth and thin slices of beef that crumble at the mere suggestion of an encounter with your chopsticks. Like many of the greatest Chinatown institutions, Bo Ky is cash only.

At least among my group of friends, eating a meal served on a lazy Susan is a sign of intimacy. We're all digging into the same dishes and sending them around in circles to be picked on by the whole table. That said, at Great NY Noodletown, a friendship can be broken if somebody finishes the last of the noodles before I get my fill.

Among the noodle offerings at this decades-old Chinatown institution are the e-foo noodles, a springy, spongy Cantonese noodle that, if you're feeling like a high roller, you can order atop a plate of lobster. The claws and tail poke out of the noodle pile like the crustacean is snuggled up in a fringed coat made of carbohydrates (though if you're superstitious, you'll want to avoid lobster on New Year's Eve). You can also opt for the classic lo mein, which is served thick, fresh, and stretchy along with the protein of your choosing (I recommend the roast duck). 

It doesn't stop there. There are also soy sauce noodles, wonton soup with noodles, or Singapore mai fun — each dish offers a fresh take on this versatile substrate. No matter what you order, you'll leave this restaurant, located on the corner of Bayard and Bowery, feeling like the mayor of Noodletown.

When you walk into 1915 Lanzhou Hand Pulled Noodles & Dumplings, you know immediately that the noodles are, in fact, hand-pulled. Through the open kitchen, you can watch the stretchy spectacle take place before your very eyes. The restaurant may not have the neighborhood legacy of other NYC noodle houses (the original Kips Bay location opened in February 2024), but the noodle dishes served here honor the traditional recipes of the owners' grandparents. Despite its short tenure on the Chinatown food scene (by way of a second location on Mott Street), there's often a line stretching down the block. These noodles are worth the wait.

Each bowl is beautifully presented, which, despite my love for each and every restaurant on this list, I can't claim is universal among my favorite noodle spots in Chinatown. You can order the noodles here stretched to your desired thickness, and for beginners, I recommend getting the "regular" thickness — a bit thinner than your average chow mein. When you get the Lanzhou beef soup (a must-try), you can just see the noodles' silhouettes through the cloudy beef broth you'll soon be slurping. As you pull a bite up through the bright red chili and sesame oil on the soup's surface, they drip with the multi-layered flavor that hand-pulled noodles like these deserve. The oil looks spicy, but it's actually quite mild. The soup is also adorned with crunchy, daikon radish slices and a garnish of cilantro and green onions.