From Spaetzle to Saimintosoda

The European Noodle

Deli foods of Russian extraction, and the noodles of Greece, Germany and Mittel Europe, are seemingly on the wane. Yet they are thriving, if you know where to look. Kasha varnishkas, the bow-tie noodles with toasted buckwheat, used to be one of my favorite Jewish-deli dishes. Lately I’ve found sloppily made versions in Nate ’n’ Al’s, Art’s, Canter’s and even Brent’s. But Langer’s, the King of Pastrami, puts forth a perfect, steaming plate of bow ties, encrusted with still-slightly-toothy buckwheat redolent with sweet, smoky notes of caramelized onion. Langer’s also prepares one of the best noodle kugels. It looks kind of homely next to the tall, beautiful one from Greenblatt’s, which ties with Brent’s for second place. But Langer’s pudding is a soft, meltingly tender, egg-rich custard, rather than stiff or dry and rubbery, as inferior versions can be. Pastitsio — macaroni layered with ground beef or lamb, infused with Greek seasonings and crowned with a savory cheese-custard topping — has to be one of the great Greek noodle creations of all time. I remember loving the pastitsio at Joseph’s Café, yet when I last ate it there it was truly a sad example. Fortunately, I’ve found two marvelous replacements. Delphi, an okay restaurant in Westwood, surprised me with its savory, tender-topped version, and the Greek Bistro in Encino not only does a fine, creamy pastitsio, but offers a long menu of Greek-inspired linguine with charbroiled octopus or crumbly, aged mizithra cheese, both with garlic and olive oil, or with oven-roasted lamb in its own juice.

Spaetzle, a German grandma’s answer to world peace, can be tasteless dough knots designed merely to absorb soups and sauces. At Knoll’s Black Forest Innrestaurant, the spaetzle is the best I’ve had. These noodle drop-lets are so egg-rich and tender they’re almost like mini-omelets. Spaetzle usually accompanies roast goose and roast pork. The kitchen will also obligingly serve it with any entrée. Another good spaetzle bet, if you happen be near Long Beach, is Anneliese’s Bavarian Inn. And I so love the fact that Polka, one of only two Polish places in the city, serves every entrée — not just the expected gulasz — with eggy noodles. Voluptuous beds of noodles hold carefully cooked watrobka-chicken livers and onion, or klopst (ground mixed-meat patties), in gravy, as well as stuffed cabbage rolls.

Chinese Noodles

Wherever Chinese immigrants spread throughout Asia, they introduced noodles, and every culture added its own local ingredients and flavorings. Without leaving L.A. County, it’s possible to follow noodles around the Asian map to places as far-flung as Myanmar, northern Thailand, and Penang, Malaysia. The best way to discover the subtleties of Asian noodles may be with handmade Chinese noodles because, according to food scholar K.C. Chang, these are what got the Asian-noodle ball rolling after wheat milling was introduced in China in the first century. Of the many subtle variations noodles can take — from angel-hair fine to thick and clunky, and with textures from gelatinous to soft — the handmade ones at Dumpling Master are the most basic. Insiders know that unless you specifically request the “special noodles,” you’ll likely get the mechanically made ones. Rolled out like thin pie dough and cut by hand into hefty half-inch ribbons, the dense, wheaty special noodles almost require a knife and fork to eat. Someone with an impeccable sense of timing cooks the toppings: Shrimps are juicy, pea pods snap, pork-chop topping is seared crisp yet juicy, and the soup broths are elegant and deeply flavored.

The chefs at Beijing Islamic in Torrance, and at Heavy Noodling (formerly Dow Shaw Noodle House) in Monterey Park, make their noodles by kneading a thick, football-size dough cylinder and from it shaving elastic noodle ribbons into boiling water. They emerge as rugged, beefy, irregular, wheaty-flavored bands that stand up to the most scorching, ã chile- laced broth, yet bring out the best in a light seafood soup. Originally from the countryside outside Beijing, these noodles go especially well with the lamb so often used in northern-style Chinese cooking. Both restaurants serve them in lamb soups, lamb stir fries and in about a dozen other preparations. At Heavy Noodling look for noodles tossed with chile, with sesame paste or soybean paste, and for seafood ton mein. Beijing Islamic gives the noodles the unappetizing sobriquet of “dough slice,” but never mind, they’re the same fabulous noodles.

Transforming a blob of dough by twisting, stretching and pulling it into a springy coil of noodles has to be one of chefdom’s most miraculous feats. We rarely see it in restaurants, though, for as one demonstrating noodle master responded to David Letterman when asked why he didn’t serve hand-swung noodles at his restaurant, “There’s no dough in it.” We are privileged, then, to have a few places around town that bother to make them. At Dumpling House, customers get a ringside seat to watch a noodle maker ply his art in a window facing the parking lot. The resulting irregular strands are delicious magnets for a Korean-Chinese-style soup that’s intense with dry-chile flavor, and for a rich, dense, brown bean sauce with chopped meat, or for broth loaded with seafood or for half a dozen other flavorings. San Tong in Artesia has virtually the same dishes with handmade noodles, but you don’t get to watch the show. Nor can you see it at Chu’s Mandarin Cuisine in San Gabriel Square. What you will see there are photos of Mr. Chu posing with Arnold Schwarzenegger behind a mound of dough. Chu’s hand-pulled dough strings served cold flaunt their slithery attributes better than anything I know. With chicken, in unctuous peanut sauce or with seafood, they’re indeed a rare noodle treat.