A wide, steamy bowl of broth. Winter radish and bits of chopped beef blended in. A nest of soft, thin, hand-pulled noodles. A dark puddle of chili oil. Green onion garnish.

The World’s Best Beef Noodles

牛肉面 (niú ròu miàn). Beef noodles. A cornerstone dish to the Chinese cuisine, for three straightforward reasons:

it’s simple, delicious, and one dollar.

This post honors the Lanzhou-style beef noodles, not to be confused with Sichuan or Taiwanese-style beef noodles. The Lanzhou-style is traditionally prepared by the Hui people. 回族人 (Huí zú rén), or the people of the Hui ethnicity, are mainly found in Northwest China, practice the Islamic faith, and posolutely know how to cook up some noods.

The epicenter of this Chinese soul food is unsurprisingly Lanzhou, the capital of the Gansu province. The noodle bowls I had throughout the rest of Gansu, as well as in the bordering regions in the Qinghai province, that were just as heavenly.

The closer one is to Gansu, the more authentic the dish becomes. This authenticity is well worth the pilgrimage.

The kitchen of beef noodle shops is a stage open for public viewing. Steam clouds ascend from metal vats of broth. A team of sweaty workers divide the roles of noodle cooking.

The one in charge of noodle-pulling, usually a Hui dude wearing his taquiyah skullcap, stretches a shiny ball of dough.  Once the dough reaches the length of the noodle-puller’s wingspan, he loops it on itself, and repeats the technique half a dozen times, each tug halving the diameter of the noodles until they reach an impossible thinness*.

So technically, a bowl of beef pulled noodles is actually just a bowl of one extra long noodle.

One extra long noodle that’s so long, it’s perfect for two ladies to share (though I consistently smashed whole portions), that is.

In one elegant fling, the elongated, stringy dough loops draping from his forearm go soaring into the bubbling beef broth.

The menus at these shops tend to offer other noodle varieties, usually stir-fried, saucier, and with more vegetables. Avoid them if you feel even the smallest inkling of indecision. Classic soupy beef noodles are the safe bet to post-prandial satisfaction.

For devout customers, beef noodles are a breakfast ritual, no days missed. Most noodle shops therefore sell out by early afternoon.

Purists will emerge from their homes every morning at five sharp, hustling to their favorite joints in order to claim the first bowls of the day. Unable to accept broth tainted with the noodle starch of previous customers, only noodles cooked in virgin broth can meet their high standards. This first serving is known as 头汤面 (tóu tāng miàn), literally translating to “leading soup noodles.”

Upon entering a noodle shop, the first step is to order and pay. The cashier will hand the customer a paper ticket with the type of noodles printed on it.

Sliced beef is an extra dollar. Sides include tea-boiled eggs and colorful salads, both of which I recommend and cost 28 cents and can be ordered via finger-pointing. These extras are handed to the customer upon payment, or can be collected at their own station.

Then a tray can be collected if provided, before going to the kitchen counter to retrieve chopsticks and hand the ticket to the worker in charge of garnishing and serving. Here one can specify for extra thin noodles, with “very thin” in Chinese being 很细 (hěn xì). Within minutes, the worker will place the corresponding noodle bowl in front of the customer, ask you much chili oil is desired, and ladle it on.

The fresh noodles are ready to be carried to the dining table. Once seated, the hungry customer doesn’t have to worry about making noises during eating because the whole restaurant will already be full of slurping sounds.

A ceramic pitcher on the table contains vinegar, used as an extra topping, but most people don’t use it as the noodles taste perfect as is. A self-service tap of hot tea should be located somewhere in the room.

牛肉面 becomes 牛肉拉面 (nīu ròu lā miàn), or beef pulled noodles/ beef ramen (lā miàn = ramen), outside of Gansu. Some shops go as far as to label themselves 兰州牛肉拉面 (lán zhōu níu ròu lā miàn), Lanzhou beef pulled noodles. Within Gansu, these extra characters are entirely unnecessary because of how omnipresent this dish is.

Time-tested and gaining popularity, beef noodles have crept their way beyond China and into culinary scenes around the world. Globalization and commercialization have led to franchises and 24-hour beef noodle kitchens. For the truest experience, dine at crowded diners in non-tourist districts or consult native hostel staff.

*The dough of pulled noodles has likely been laced with desert plant ash to increase its elasticity. Unfortunately, modern shops have turned to factory-produced powders, adding to the long list of health concerns in China’s food industry.

Need a ride to Lanzhou? Consider taking the Chinese trains.