Radiance Tea House & Books Promotes Calm and Wellness

Radiance Tea House & Books - Midtown West
158 West 55th Street, New York, NY 10019

Radiance Tea House & Books channels the refined elegance of a traditional tea house at the foot of tea hills across mainland China. The slender menu book of teas contains a range from Chinese green, jasmine, or pu'er; to wellness teas that list a variety of health benefits; to teas of other origins, such as caramel Rooibos. Sit among the Chinese books--in both Mandarin and English--that you can peruse or buy while you sip tea in one of the few truly quiet spots you can find so close to Times Square. 

On the opposite side of its mini-library there is a small restaurant section. The menu has typical Chinese fare that holds true to origin while catering to Westernized palates--such as egg custards and hot and sour soup. Between the two of us, we ordered one "wellness soup", one green tea soba noodles, and one shrimp wanton noodle soup.

Goji berries, ginger, ginseng, and dates jived brilliantly in this small pot of soup (served with a lid to maintain heat) that packed bold flavor into a sweet, calming brew. No one flavor stood out boastfully, and whether placebo, mental satisfaction, or the true power of the ingredients, this soup managed to turn the tide for my fellow diner who had been feeling unwell.

The green tea noodles, served cold with chilled chopped cucumbers and a lonely bok choy, added substance to the small soup order. For me, I had my own wanton soup, which made the first bitter cold Fall day fade into the distance. The first slurp of soup disappointed me; but after a couple of stirs I awoke the seasonings that had settled at the bottom and could not have been happier with the order. Essentially, this was Grandma's Jewish Chicken Noodle Soup--except Chinese (and with shrimp wantons). Good for the body and the soul. 

We didn't have to get dessert (when do you have to get dessert?), but obviously we decided on a little something sweet to finish the meal. Splitting the mochi sampler was a strategic success--this much ground gluten is not a good idea for one person.

I'm not sure if my next dining experience will be with a friend for dinner or a good book for tea, but either way I look forward to it.

Watch A Man Pull Your Noodles Before You Eat Them

Lam Zhou La Mian - Chinatown
144 East Broadway, New York, NY 10002

The storefront's ambiguous name was no help in confirming we made it to the right place. However, once inside, the yellow and red sign on the wall listed the restaurant's name as well as the menu items, which are essentially all a variation of noodle soup.

As the sign is in traditional characters, it was not until later that I realized something about the name was amiss.

Traditional: 蘭州工手拉麵
Simplified: 兰州工手拉面

Pinyin: LánZhōu Gōng Shǒu Lā Miàn

Translation: Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodles

The translation/English name listed on the menu is "Lamzhou". However, the Chinese confirms that this is supposed to be Lánzhōu, the capital and largest city of the inland province Gansu.

I don't know if this should make me question the authenticity of the establishment, but I do know that we enjoyed it all the same. Sitting at questionably clean wooden tables looking at open bottles of various half-used sauces I felt like I was back in China. Ordering in Mandarin (given the waitress's shaky grasp of English) also felt like flexing a stiff muscle. And when the enormous ceramic bowl of pulled noodles came out--complete with whole leaves of bok choy and a fried egg--I was reminded of my daily noodle soup lunches in Nanjing. Squirting a bit of vinegar and dropping in dangerously hot flakes of chili added just the right amount of flavor to make you sweat it out on a warm evening.

Just as in China, the noodles curled and twisted with the imperfections of manual labor. As you sit and eat, you can watch a man at the front of the kitchen pull long threads of dough. Every now and again I would flinch when the high-pitched slapping noise of slamming the dough down pierced the restaurant quiet.

The one drawback I would say is their dumplings. As the name suggests, this restaurant's forte is in pulled noodles--which I highly recommend. But if you're looking for authentic, Chinese dumplings, go elsewhere (possibly Prosperity Dumpling a few blocks over).

We took leftover soup home so we had room enough for bubble before departing Chinatown. Next time--and I do expect a next time--I will have to try the lamb pulled noodle soup. 

Where's The Best Cheap Food In Manhattan? Chinatown.

Prosperity Dumpling - Chinatown
46 Eldridge Street, New York, NY 10002

I--along with every other New Yorker--bemoan a lack of good food in Manhattan at a price that doesn't make me feel like I'm being stabbed in the back as I buy it.

Chinatown is the only neighborhood in the city I know that sells most of its food under black market prices. And in Chinatown, I recommend Prosperity Dumpling.

It's a hole-in-the-wall dumpling joint--anything but glamorous. The floors are dirty and the menu mounted to the wall has been updated using black Sharpie. I squeeze through the doorway and stand quietly, shoulder-to-shoulder with the other patrons like a gang of meerkats.

But ten minutes after I place my order, I walk out with a mound of dumplings, an egg pancake, a few pork buns, and a tub of noodle soup. Dinner and leftovers for two just cost me less than $10.

Unlike at many Chinese-American restaurants, the dumpling skin is not too thick here. The veggie dumplings are packed full of exactly the chopped carrot and cabbage flavors I used to order late at night in Nanjing. Everything tastes a bit nostalgic.