
With its emphasis on foods that suggest longevity and prosperity, Chinese New Year makes a good excuse to revisit a cuisine that often gets shunted aside in favor of the latest culinary trend.
Of course, not everyone buys into the notion that noodles lead to a long life, but the arrival of the lunar new year, the celebration of which ran from Jan. 29 through Feb. 12, made for a great excuse to visit Noodles & Dumplings, an El Paso-based chain that made its San Antonio debut last spring.
Seductively fragrant from a fistful of garlic, the bowl of Spicy Yo Pu Noodles that hit our table at Noodles & Dumplings seemed to imply longevity which stretched into infinity. At one point, my fellow diners and I were convinced that the dish consisted of a single broad and bouncy noodle with no end in sight.
But the endless noodle came by its length not through magic but from the hands of true craftsmen. Behind a cinematically broad pane of glass in the restaurant, a real master performed his aerial ballet of stretching, tossing and thwacking a formless lump of dough into silken strands.
And said strands were the best part of the Yo Pu dish. Despite the alluring aroma and cohort of colorful vegetables accompanying its sliced meat — we chose the beef option — there was little actual zest. The condition was easily remedied by diverting a little of the vinegar-based dipping sauce that comes with an order of Green Onion Pancakes.
Less dramatic in their creation, the pancake’s preparation nevertheless requires skill and patience. Traditionally made from a hot-water dough, the pancakes are rolled repeatedly to achieve a lamination that’s somewhat like that of a croissant. Scallions go into the dough — just enough and just at the right time — and the pancakes are lightly fried. I can’t vouch for meticulous hand fabrication, but the result at Noodles & Dumplings is both flaky and chewy, and it’s bright with the contrasting green onion.
Bao seems to be a somewhat slippery definition in Cantonese cuisine. Most often the name refers to a doughy white bun stuffed with filling. Apparently, though, steaming is also a defining factor. The xiaolongbao are neither doughy nor pillowy but form a delicate, pleated “purse.” Often called soup dumplings, these bao aren’t meant for floating in actually contained soup inside.
Magic, or so it seems. However, once again, the trick comes down to skill and culinary wizardry rather than witchcraft.
The combo set at Noodles & Dumplings is composed of three chicken and three pork dumpling-like bao. The wrapping process of the ground meat stuffing is easy to imagine, but the soupy component? Turns out it’s usually a stock-based gelatin that melts with the steaming.
The packets are served in a bamboo container with a pair of large spoons and a dipping sauce that could use just a tad more ginger. The spoon-plus-bao duo is just large enough to allow for consuming the package in a single bite — for maximum soup reveal, of course. It’s a little unwieldy, but you’ll figure it out. The experience is highly recommended however you work it.
The menu cautions that diners should expect a 15-minute wait on all dumplings.
That suggests they’re hand-fabricated to order — something we confirmed on our visit. The restaurant’s dumpling lady stood next to the noodle slinging guy, although her work was overshadowed by his more dramatic performance.
During out visit we also sampled the Colorful Combo Dumpling, which offered two each of beef with scallion, chicken, pork and vegetable. They can be ordered steamed or panfried.
The fried option arrives linked together under a lacy skin that allows some bashful color to peek through. For no obvious reason, pale purple equals chicken, while the green tint standing for the vegetable option was more expected. The veg option proved to be the most flavorful of the four, though all are worth your attention.
Soup is naturally another showcase for noodles, especially of the hand-pulled variety. As reported last October in our review of Mian Noodles & Dumplings, the Northern Chinese city of Lanzhou is a kind of noodle ground zero, making Lanzhou noodle soup a legend in its own right.
Mian’s clear-broth approach is somewhat purist, though that restaurant offers three noodle options. At Noodles & Dumplings there’s no choice, but the broth is augmented with tomatoes, broccoli and chickpeas, all bolstering a choice of sliced beef, chicken or shrimp. I have yet to try this version, but it will be the first thing I will order when I return for soup and a show.
The remainder of the menu doesn’t exert the same siren song. Dishes such as deep-fried pork chops, General Tso’s Chicken and “lightly battered protein” served with lemon or orange sauce may be perfectly good, but they’re more universally available.
Chili Oil Beef Noodles on the other hand…
Noodles & Dumplings
4818 Walzem Road, (210) 233-8797, noodlesanddumplings.com.
Hours: 11 a.m.-9:30 p.m. Sunday-Thursday, 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Friday-Saturday
Best Bets: Green Onion Pancake, Colorful Combo Dumpling, Xiaolongbao Combo
The Lowdown: Noodles & Dumplings is a Texas-based chain that entered San Antonio last spring. The décor of its local outpost isn’t especially remarkable, but service is practiced and efficient. The real draw, however, is the hand-pulled noodles. If you arrive at a propitious time, you’ll see the noodle wrangler slinging his lasso-like strands behind a large plate-glass window — and you’ll order said noodles in plate dishes or soup bowls. The restaurant’s handmade dumplings are equally billed and equally desirable. Try various combos, then concentrate on what pleases you most.
Subscribe to SA Current newsletters.
Follow us: Apple News | Google News | NewsBreak | Reddit | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter| Or sign up for our RSS Feed
This article appears in Feb 19-25, 2025.

