Clear soup, white radish, red chilli, green coriander, yellow noodles — Lanzhou mornings begin with a bowl.
A day in Lanzhou is woken by a bowl of beef noodles.
Lanzhou noodle shops open before five in the morning. The puller stands at the board, the dough flying through his hands — pull, fold — in seconds becoming noodles of even thickness. Capillary-thin, medium, chive-leaf, wide: whatever the customer orders, the master pulls.
An authentic bowl follows the rule of five: clear broth, white radish, red chilli oil, green garlic sprouts, yellow noodles. The beef broth simmers beef bones all night, crystal clear and fragrant.
Lanzhou people call it niu da. At seven or eight in the morning the shops are full, the sound of slurping everywhere. A bowl of noodles, an egg, a plate of pickles — the most solid morning in Lanzhou.
