You get way more biang for your buck at this inconspicuous noodle house where comfort food is king
On a Saturday lunchtime in Bloomsbury, central London, very few people were eating in Master Wei. This was surprising because Wei Guirong, a Xi’an noodle specialist, recently opened the doors of her first solo venture to much excitement from the type of folk who can tell hand-pulled biang biang noodles from cold skin liangpi, and feasibly do not hold the King Bombay Bad Boy Pot Noodle in terribly high esteem.
“Biang biang” relates to the onomatopoeic sound of the fat, flat dough strands as they’re stretched and shaken into shape. They hail from Shaanxi province. I am not an expert on the geographical nooks of China’s 9.6bn sq km, but I am a consummate professional at consuming large amounts of biang biang, savouring how their flat, sturdy, slippery surface gives great purchase to thrusts of garlic, oil, spring onion, ground chilli and peppercorn. Biang biang, to the unaccustomed eye, might look more like sparsely dressed pappardelle than vegetable-packed, sauce-soaked chow fun Cantonese noodles. They are substance deliciously overriding style, like all the very best foodstuffs.
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