Nothing satisfies in the winter like a big bowl of noodle soup. We hit Chinatown’s Nan Zhou, the noodle house where bolts of dough are smacked, stretched, and spun into springy, chewy wires right before your eyes. The oxtail spare rib soup regressed us to bone-gnawing primates. The short ribs were tender after a long braise in the beefy stock flavored with bunches of cilantro. And the noodles… oh, man. Long, wavy, and honey blonde, you could taste the freshness bouncing back in each strand, reminding that in Chinatown ancient tradition is often alive and well. Went walking around after, and hey, check out those durians!