Biang Biang Noodles
油泼扯面
English: Biang Biang Noodles
Chinese: 油泼扯面
Pinyin： youpo chemian
Literal: Oil-pplashed pulled noodles
This bowl of noodles is so big, bold and beloved it needs two names: biang biang mian, with its famously impossible-to-write character, and youpo chemian (油泼扯面), that is ‘oil-splashed pulled noodles’, a more literal description.
Over the past decade, biang biang has become the coolest noodle dish in Chinatowns all around the world. Why biang biang rose to fame might have little to do with it’s flavour. There are hundreds of incredible noodles across China from Chongqing xiao mian to Beijing’s zha jiang mian to Shanghai’s scallion oil noodles to Guangxi’s array of rice noodles and more. In her essay D is for Dan Dan Mian, Jenny Lau suggests that part of biang biang’s rise is because of its fun double-word name; it’s easy to pronounce and easy to remember for casual eaters of Chinese food.
Even in Chinese, the name is fun and playful. The sound is onomatopoeic - biang, the sound of thick, hand-stretched noodle smacking against the counter again and again - biang biang.
No one really knows where the fantastical character for biang came from—58 strokes, unreadable by any phone or keyboard. One story tells of a hungry scholar who, too broke to pay for his noodles, invented the character in lieu of coin. The restaurant, so the tale goes, accepted. Oh, and just in case you want to see the character, here it is:
Despite its fame, there’s no flashy ingredients in these noodles, just wide, chewy ribbons of hand-pulled dough, raw garlic and a good heap of chilli powder. This last bit matters - for the best results make your own powder using a blend of of spicy, fiery-red Facing Heaven chilies (朝天椒 / chāotiān jiāo) and the milder, more fragrant Erjingtiao (二荆条) (or at least find a good Chinese chilli powder). When hot oil hits the chillies and raw garlic, it sizzles and smokes. The chilli oil then trickles through the the noodles, pooling with the soy sauces and vinegar at the bottom. A quick stir at the table and the flavours blend.
There used to be a little Shaanxi spot near my old gym in Beijing that served their biang biang mian with a ladle of stewed pork and a soft mess of tomato and egg on top. It was a perfect post-workout bowl—warm, salty, just fiery enough and definitely filling. Then one day the store gone. This recipe is an ode to their noodles.
Serves 2
Ingredients
For the noodles
250g all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
120ml water (plus more as needed)
Oil (for coating the dough strips)
For the toppings
5-6 cloves garlic, finely minced
3 scallions, finely chopped
2 handfuls of bok choi
2 handfuls of beansprouts
For the sauce
2 tablespoons light soy sauce
1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
1 tablespoons Shanxi black vinegar
½ teaspoon salt
For the chilli oil splash
1 tbsp Chinese dried chilli flakes (辣椒面）
½ raised teaspoon - ground cumin
Pinch of ground Sichuan peppercorns
6 tbsp oil (peanut, soybean, or canola)
For the extras (optional)
2 tablespoons of egg and tomato
2 tablespoons of leftover meat sauce
Method
Notes
Flour type: All-purpose flour is standard, but high-gluten bread flour can give extra chew.
Chilli: In a pinch, Korean gochugaru could work in place of Chinese chilli flakes.
Vinegar: Shanxi black vinegar, the best you can find, is where most of the subtle flavour comes from in this dish so do try to use it if you can find it
Make the dough (ideally the night before)
1. Make the dough. For amazingly stretchy and chewy noodles, I make this the night before. If you can’t do that, they still need 1-2 hours rest.
2. In a large bowl, mix the flour and salt. Slowly pour in the warm water while stirring with chopsticks until the dough comes together in shaggy lumps. Knead for 8–10 minutes until smooth, firm, and slightly springy.
3. Place in a lightly oiled bowl. If resting overnight (recommended), rub a little oil over the surface to prevent drying. Cover with plastic wrap or a damp cloth and let it rest for at least 1–2 hours, or overnight.
Shape and rest the noodles
4. Once rested, roll the dough into a sausage about 40cm long. Brush with oil, then cut into 7–8 even pieces. Brush the cut sides with oil too.
5. Roll each piece into a flat strip about 15cm long—they’ll look a bit like cleaned squid bodies.
6. Stack them on a plate, brushing with oil to stop sticking, and cover with plastic wrap. Let them rest for another 30 minutes.
Prep the chilli mix and extras
7. Mix the chilli flakes (or ground if using whole dried chilies), cumin, and Sichuan pepper. Set aside.
8. If using extras like egg and tomato or a meat sauce, cook those now. (For a quick meat sauce: brown minced pork, add a splash of Shaoxing wine, soy sauce, and cook down.)
Pull the noodles
9. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil.
10. Take a dough strip and roll it gently to flatten further—about 5–7cm wide and 15–20cm long. Pick it up and stretch it by hand, letting gravity do the work. Aim for about 50cm long. You can slap it on the board for fun (and tradition), but I usually don’t - it tends to tear.
11. Repeat with all the dough strips.
Cook the noodles and greens
12. Drop the stretched noodles into the boiling water one by one to avoid sticking. Cook for 2–3 minutes until chewy and cooked through.
13. While they cook, blanch the bok choi and bean sprouts in the same pot (they only need 1 minute).
Build the bowls
14. Divide the soy sauces, vinegar, and salt between two large serving bowls.
15. Drain the noodles and divide between the bowls. Top with the greens, sprouts, garlic, scallions, chilli-cumin mix, and any extras (egg, tomato, meat sauce).
The chilli oil splash
16. Heat 6 tablespoons of oil in a small pan until shimmering. Test it by dropping in a chilli flake—it should sizzle.
17. Carefully pour the hot oil over the garlic and chilli mix in each bowl. It’ll sizzle and release a fragrant cloud of steam. Toss everything together and serve immediately.
