I like a lot of things about King of Noodles, the little Chinese noodle shop that opened recently near my apartment. The noodles, for one — they’re about three feet long and handmade, served in what might be the finest broth on earth. I like that the owners barely know a word of English but are so proud of said handmade noodles that they halting insist new customers watch the tiny woman in the back as she pulls and stretch the dough by hand. I like that the fried tofu is utterly amazing, if a bit heavy on the salt. But I think my favorite thing is that the menu — with the usual inexpert English translation serving more as a general guide to the printed hanzi than as a source of information about the food itself — lists the appetizers section as “freshest little dishes.” This, of course, conjures up the image of a plate of dumplings making lascivious comments to passersby.
Needless to say, this place is quickly becoming my favorite hole in the wall.