Noodles are one of those foods that I have very low standards for--it takes a really crappy kind of noodle to make me not want to eat it. Not sure if that's a good thing, but noodles are like pizza and french fries. Even when it's bad, it's still good enough to eat. I swear, white starch foods are nature's crack. But luckily, there's no shortage of good noodles here in New York, so it's not often that I have to put up with too-soft noodles. That's usually when I cook them myself. Oops.
Knife sliced noodles with minced pork at Lam Zhou. I'm not sure what was in the sauce, but it tasted a lot like jajang myun.
I didn't see knife-sliced noodles on the menu, but I just asked and the really grumpy lady said they make them. Being grouchy must be a prerequisite to working in any Chinatown establishment. The fact that I'm part Chinese and don't know how to say anything Chinese (besides thank you, happy New Year, and my last name) probably doesn't help.
Hand pulled noodles with oxtail
Oh, and Cocoron again.
Soba is my ideal noodle because it's buckwheat and doesn't make my guts want to explode from fullness if I eat too much. Well, maybe it would, but I've never eaten piles and piles of soba. It feels too a little too classy to be the kind of food to shovel endlessly into my mouth.