Kungfu Express cart

Next to the Northwestern Famous cart on Broadway by Columbia University is Kungfu Express, a cart run by a woman from Henan.

I asked for some guidance as to what I should try, and sure enough, she steered me toward the Henan-from-Xinjiang favorite dà pán jī, listed as "chicken over rice" (大盘鸡盖饭 - dà pán jī gài fàn , or over handmade wide noodles, if you prefer) on the posted menu. Of course, it's impossible with a cart to make each order on the spot like they do at HeNan Feng Wei, but she scooped up a nice, mild, homey version from a waiting pot: chunks of chicken stewed with potatoes, tree ear fungus, and just enough red pepper and spices to be interesting.

She also does some nice grilled skewers - over charcoal, no less! The Chinese sausage (烤香肠 - kǎo xiāng cháng) was delicious - sweet, with a bit more complexity of flavor than most Chinese sausages - and a chicken skewer I saw looked quite good - not the usual tiny chunks of meat.

Kungfu Express cart
Broadway, east side, @ 117th St., New York 10027
(1 train to 116th St.)

Li's (李記拉麵刀削麵) (New World Mall)

The stall formerly known as Sliced Noodle in the northeast corner of the New World Mall food court has received a facelift in the past few months. Now twice its former size, it sports a nifty new façade and a new name: Li’s (李記). Actually, the Chinese characters that sprawl across the façade say 李記拉麵刀削麵 (lǐ jì lā miàn dāo xiāo miàn, or "Li Ji" pulled noodle and knife-shaved noodle). The English fine-print signage also says "Lanzhou Hand-Stretched Noodles" and "Shanxi Sliced Noodles".

And with all the different place-names mentioned in its menu and signs, there is no mention (in English, anyway) that this place is actually Henan (in its "Sliced Noodle" days there were Chinese characters indicating that on prominent display). The menu, consisting mostly of dumplings, noodle soups and other noodle dishes, is quite similar to that of Henan Feng Wei and Uncle Zhou’s. They even have that Henan favorite from Xinjiang, dà pán jī (新疆大盤雞 - xīn jiāng dà pán jī), or "big tray o’ chicken" (there’s a description and picture of it in my post about Henan Feng Wei).

If you order hand-pulled noodles (拉麵 - lā miàn), the noodle guy comes up front and pulls some fresh for your dish:

Order some knife-shaved noodles (刀削麵 - dāo xiāo miàn), and if you position yourself toward the right-hand side of the counter, you can catch a glimpse of him shaving off the noodles from a block of dough into a pot on a stove in the back.

But when I come here, I can’t resist the pan-fried dumplings (開口鍋貼 - kāi kǒu guō tiē). They are made "open-mouth" style (開口 - kāi kǒu), i.e. not sealed up on the ends, and fried together in a pan in such a way that a starchy film connects the all the guō tiē, which are then turned out onto a plate.

And here’s one of the dumplings, open end visible and some crispy starchy film attached (it can be tricky when using chopsticks to keep the meat from slipping out of its sheath):

Have them with a mixture of hot pepper oil and black vinegar. Along with those at Nán Běi Shuǐ Jiǎo (南北水餃, in the Golden Shopping Mall), some of my favorite dumplings in Flushing. At $4.99 for eight, they’re not cheap, but still a good value.

Li's (李記拉麵刀削麵) - New World Mall food court, stall 12
Main & Roosevelt (enter on Roosevelt), Flushing 11354
718-888-9393
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing)

Uncle Zhou

If I had written about Uncle Zhou (or 大河人家 - "big river people") when I first went there, it would have been the very first English-language notice about it on the internet (a Chinese soprano—from Henan—told me about it). But, I wanted to try more things before writing about it, and then procrastination set in, so here I am finally getting around to it 3 months later.

Comparisons to Henan Feng Wei are inevitable, since it is the only other Henan-style restaurant in New York (that I know of, anyway). The offerings are similar, but by no means identical. Both focus on noodles, dumplings, with some other kinds of dishes along for the ride, and both serve excellent food. And that’s where the similarity ends. For one thing, Uncle Zhou’s serves not only the hallmark handmade wide, ribbon-like noodles in soup (烩面 - huì miàn), but also the fine hand-pulled noodles (拉面 - lā miàn) and knife-shaved noodles (刀削面 - dāo xiāo miàn), a la Sheng Wang (although Uncle Zhou’s are, I think, a shade more delicate). The wide variety of noodle soups here includes something for every taste—I especially love the spicy beef hand-pulled noodle soup and the chicken knife-shaved noodle soup. But, of course, lamb soup with the wide noodles (滋补羊肉烩面) is the most typical Henanese offering.

My beloved dà pán jī (大盘鸡 - spicy "big tray chicken") is terrific here, and quite different from Henan Feng Wei’s. There the flavors are more concentrated and intense. Uncle Zhou’s version, while packing almost all of the same spice, is mellower, more like comfort food. And it comes served on a bed of the wide noodles—at Henan Feng Wei you have to order noodles separately. And like Henan Feng Wei, they have a few kòu wǎn (扣碗 - small casseroles of chicken, pork or spare ribs) and shāo bǐng (燒餅 - baked sesame pancake). The pork stuffed pancake seems to be off the menu at the moment, which is too bad—it’s better than the beef one currently on offer.

There are also a dozen and a half "house special dishes"—various braised and stir-fried dishes. I haven’t tried all of them—yet—but the "house special fried chicken" must surely be the standout on the list. It’s name, zhá bā kuāi (炸八块 – "fried eight chunks") is perhaps as good a description of it as any, and the execution is sheer genius: each "chunk" is made by peeling the dark meat down away from the leg or thigh bone so it forms a nice knot of meat attached to its own bone handle. They are then lightly seasoned and fried to juicy perfection. There are—you guessed it—eight pieces to an order. And be sure to check out the cold appetizers in the case up by the cash register. The marinated cucumbers (蓑衣黄瓜 - suō yì huáng guā) are especially good. Each small cucumber is intricately cut in a spiral pattern, rather like a Honeybaked ham, yet remains intact, reminding one of an accordion—all the better to soak up the sweet-sour-spicy marinade.

And with such eminently reasonable prices, one could eat here almost every day. I have a feeling some people do—I’ve seen quite a few repeat customers besides myself on my visits there. Open until 11 p.m.

Uncle Zhou
83-29 Broadway, Elmhurst 11373
718-393-0888
(G, R, or V train to Elmhurst Ave., south on Broadway)

He Nan Flavor (Henan Feng Wei)

I've been meaning to blog about these places for months... only now do I seem to be emerging from my winter inertia. Much has already been written about these establishments in the meantime. Let me just add my small voice to say: go! They serve the freshest possible food at unbeatably low prices.

The original Flushing outpost is the more fun of the two, simply because if you hang around the counter after ordering, you can watch them make your food: the entire kitchen is there behind counter. You order noodles, and one of the women picks up an oval of dough and begins to stretch it, double it, and stretch it some more. Thirty seconds later she's cutting it into LONG, wide ribbons, which are dropped into a pot boiling on the stove. One evening I had the pleasure of watching the owner prepare the da pan ji (大盤鳮) I had just ordered. He obviously knew what he was doing, and the low-key mastery of his gestures was a thing of beauty. As was the final result (photos courtesy of Pete):


This dish is sensational: complex, spicy, bursting with interesting flavors. Bite-sized chunks of chicken are stir-fried, then braised briefly with some cubes of potato, a LOT of dried red peppers, ginger, garlic, scallion, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, and god knows what else, topped with some cilantro. When you're halfway through with it, get a side order of noodle and add it to the pot--the perfect companion to soak up that great sauce. Interestingly, this dish isn't even from Henan--it's a Hui dish from Xinjiang. An opera singer I know originally from Henan, studying in the States, explained to me that, since Xinjiang is such a harsh, mountainous province, a lot of people leave it to go to Henan to work, buoying the dish's popularity there (although it appears to be popular all over China).

She also took one look at the menu I showed her and said the lamb noodle soup is an especially well-known Henan dish. It is lovely and soothing (with those great, wide, hand-pulled noodles), but perhaps a little too mellow for my taste (what can I say... I like robust flavors!). However, the zha jiang mian (炸酱面-noodles with pork and black bean sauce) is absolutely the greatest version of that dish I've ever had: those noodles, with a hearty sauce of minced pork and bean paste, topped with shredded cucumber and some baby bok choy leaves. Rather like the Chinese equivalent of pappardelle with ragù.


The small size ($4.00) easily satisfies one hungry person... get the large only if you're planning on sharing it. The noodle with tomato and egg (eggs scrambled, in case you were wondering) is also fantastic--quintessential comfort food.

There's a little something for everyone here: almost a dozen noodle preparations (the Manhattan restaurant, as I recall, lists all the noodle dishes as "lo mein" on the wall menu), soup dumplings, steamed dumplings, bing pancake, bing with pork filling. The Flushing location also has a selection of cold appetizers and small casserole dishes (meatballs in broth, a couple of pork preparations). The "crispy meat casserole" ("crispy" must refer to the meat being breaded and fried... after a minute in the broth, it ain't crispy no more!):


Unusual (in a good way), and quite tasty with a fair bit of ginger flavoring things. Pete liked the sour vegetable dumplings in soup a lot (I haven't tried it yet):


You'll really have to work to spend more than ten bucks here. But if, like me, you can eat an entire da pan ji in one sitting (exciting the curiosity--and commentary--of the guy in the kitchen once at the Manhattan location), you'll spend twelve.

He Nan Flavor
68 B Forsyth St., New York 10002
212-625-8299
(between Grand and Hester St.)

Henan Feng Wei
136-31 41st Avenue, Flushing 11355
718-762-1818
(7 train to Main St.-Flushing, 1 block south on Main, then left on 41st Ave.)

Café Kashkar

When I came across Robert Sietsema's mini-review of Café Kashkar, I realized that my quest to try as many different regional Chinese cuisines as possible had to include a trip to this restaurant. It ended up including several. Although Brighton Beach is a long way from Manhattan, it's worth the trip now and then for what is essentially home-cooking at marvelously low prices.

Of course, were it not for the vagaries of history, this would not in any sense be a Chinese restaurant at all, and there is indeed nothing overtly Chinese about it. Café Kashkar serves food of the Uyghurs, which is a Turkic ethnic group that comprises almost half the population of Xinjiang, China's westernmost province. Over the centuries, most Uyghurs ended up settling in what is sometimes called East Turkestan, and now comprises the western third of Xinjiang. Kashkar is the westernmost major city of the province. The area has gone in and out of being under Chinese rule, finally ending up as part of China, apparently permanently, in 1949. In the course of my conversation with the lovely fellow serving me on my first visit, the son of the owners, I learned that his parents are Uyghurs from Uzbekistan and, if I remember correctly, Kazakhstan.

In any case, the food at Café Kashkar has much more to do with Russian cuisine than Chinese, with some occasional cross-pollination. Since most Uyghurs are Muslim, the kitchen is halal--no pork! There is a fairly typically Russian selection of salads here; we had a rich, tasty eggplant salad (photos courtesy, once again, of Pete):


Lamb takes center stage here--it's in almost everything. One of the specialties of the house is lagman (notice the similarity to the word "ramen"?), a delicious, hearty noodle soup made with lamb and vegetables. "Hearty" accurately describes a lot of the menu's offerings... this is great cold-weather food.

Fried lagman is essentially Russian fried lo mein, with lamb, vegetables and egg:


Plov (pilaf) is Russian fried rice, with carrots and lamb. I liked this much more than my dining companions did, but I tend to love good fried rice:


Samsa are like baked rolls, filled with seasoned ground lamb--another house specialty:


That is one samsa there, with four parts, and it will set you back $2.50.

Manty are big dumplings filled with... your guessed it... lamb. We got ours fried:


Another cognate: manty is awfully similar to the Korean word for dumplings, mandoo. I'm crazy about the seasoning of their lamb filling. There are sauteed onions in there, and a subtle blend of spices I can't quite identify.

To complete the triumvirate of lamb-filled dough creations, we had to try the gusht nan, too. Anyone familiar with Indian food ought be able to form an idea what this is--a baked, lamb-filled flat-bread:


I suppose it is possible to overdose on lamb here... luckily, they have a selection of kebabs to add a bit of variety (and none more than $4.00): chicken, ground beef (lyulya), liver, veal, and, of course, lamb. The lamb rib kebab is really pretty great, I have to say--seen here with chicken:


Tender, juicy, and expertly grilled.

They had exactly one dessert the night we asked: homemade chak-chak. It's like a Rice Krispy treat made with fried noodles, and it's good:



Café Kashkar
1141 Brighton Beach Ave., Brooklyn 11235
718-743-3832
(B or Q train to Brighton Beach, then 7 blocks east on Brighton Beach Ave.)