One rainy autumnal day in London I was on my way to a Tarot reading at Watkins Bookshop, not that I frequently partake in such things, although I do have a set of tarot cards that have tended to predict things with astonishing accuracy, which I interpret via my trusted friend, ChatGPT…

Anyway, as I was saying – I was en route and it was absolutely sloshing it down with rain, it was some of the most torrential rain I’d ever witnessed in London – the type that’s so aggressive it gets into your shoes as you walk across the puddles. But I was a woman on a mission. I needed answers. The wind was strong too, and my weak little umbrella was flying around inverting itself, so the walk was something out of a cartoon.

I arrived at Watkins, the walls filled with esoteric culty books, the smell of insense filling the air, odd looking characters floating around with wide eyes. I came up to my desk and announced my appointment but to my great annoyance the tarot reader was unavailable. Apparently they even tried calling me but I didn’t have any missed calls. So I made the journey there in the pissing rain for absolutely nothing…. Or did I?

I don’t know whether it was the rain, the walk, the fact that I hadn’t had any lunch, or just the sheer disappointment that I wouldn’t get the answers I was seeking, but I started feeling very shaky and hyperglycaemic – when you need sugar immediately or you’ll faint. Mind you this happens to me incredibly rarely. In any case, I started searching around for a place where I could get some food and hide from the rain.

Suddenly the most delicious aroma filled the air in front of me and I could see steam billowing out of a small, inconspicuous little restaurant to my right. I could almost paint it, it was so poetic. I poked my head inside and saw a counter of stir fried noodles, sticky fried chicken and other things and my expectations sunk as I thought this would just be another all-you-can-eat trashy Chinese.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man pulling noodles. HAND PULLED NOODLES. Before I even had the chance to gasp a militant Chinese lady projected “table for ONE???!” at me, and I – being too polite to decline and with my head already half way to the door – obliged her. She sat me down inside in a warm little corner of the room and I dried off, inspecting the menu.

I am not a frequent Chinese food eater but having grown up in Australia where there’s a very large diaspora, I was aware of good Chinese food and the green flags of Chinese restaurants which are:

• There other Chinese people there
• You don’t understand most of the menu and it’s as long as an arm
• The staff never smile
• The decor is diabolical
• They have horrid overhead LED lighting like you’d find in a hospital
• A Chinese man or woman who doesn’t look like they want to be there or understands a word of English is pulling noodles or making dumplings in the corner

If you have all the above – you’re about to have the best food of your life…

I ordered the following and it was hands down the most perfect order and needs no further refinement – I confirmed this on my third visit, because I asked for further recommendations and for the first time the staff smiled at me and said “you already make very good choice”.

1. H7: Cucumber salad with garlic £8
2. C4: A portion (or two) of fried pork dumplings £8 (insanely good value given you get 8 of them and they’re all handmade)
3. G11: The fried, knife cut noodles with Char Sui pork £12.80

Get more if you must, but don’t get less – just take it away if you can’t finish it. I like to take the leftover juices from the cucumber salad and pour it on top of the noodles for an extra kick. Also make use of the giant pots of chilli oil, it makes everything taste that much better.

I have now started combining it with a visit to The Chandos pub down the road or Gordon’s wine bar if I’m coming from Embankment – high on my list of favourite boozers (a post for another time).

So if my walk in the rain taught me anything it’s that sometimes in life you don’t get the answers you seek – you get something even better!

Restaurant:

Lanzhou Lamian Noodle Bar – 33 Cranbourn St, London WC2H 7AD

Rating: 10/10

Atmosphere: 0/10 but also somehow incredibly authentic and appropriate

Service: 10/10