Playing with noodles is a time-honored tradition, either via TikTok-style noodle pulls or something sillier—as in the time, during a lengthy discussion of al dente pasta, when my kids and I threw our spaghetti against the ceiling.
The Lanzhou noodles at Chopin Noodle House in Catonsville are pretty great both for pulling and eating, as they are all made on-site and hand-pulled to order—though throwing them anywhere is discouraged, even if you bring some home to your own kitchen ceilings, as they are simply too good not to be immediately consumed.
Chopin is, unsurprisingly, in a strip mall off of Baltimore National Pike, where so many of our marvelous dumpling houses, taquerias, and Korean barbecue joints are to be found, happily coexisting with dental offices, nail salons, foot massage parlors, or, in Chopin’s case, the Great Wall Supermarket—the sprawling and magnificent Chinese grocery that is itself reason for the trip. Here, there’s an added bonus, as Chopin sources much of its ingredients from right next door.
Opened in 2023 by Yang Zi—who three years ago decided to follow his love for noodles back to his hometown of Lanzhou, a capital city in northwestern China’s Gansu province—Chopin specializes in Lanzhou lamian, a regional beef noodle soup featuring the hand-pulled noodles. The bowls combine coils of noodles, beef, a rich beef consommé, and fresh herbs into a synthesis that is both complex and subtle. There are many variations of this pivotal dish—one that is so regionally important that it was added to China’s cultural heritage list four years ago—on Chopin’s menu.
There is the traditional bowl, plus variations with lamb; chicken; sauerkraut and braised noodles; intestines or crispy fish with leeks and radishes; or cold noodles and scallion oil. And then there’s my favorite, the chewy, hefty Oil Spill Noodles, which arrive doused in crimson chiles and a slick of chile oil, combined with bright green bok choy and chunks of beef.
Not only does Chopin make all the noodles to-order—you can see the cooks stretching your noodles like boardwalk taffy through the open door into the back kitchen—but you can stipulate whether you want them skinny, regular, wide, or extra-wide.
It must be said that the best thing to do is ask the woman at the counter which kind of noodles she’d recommend pairing with your soup. She’s the owner’s mother, and thus, arguably even better versed in Lanzhou noodles than he is, having eaten them, she says, most days her whole life.
In a kind of hilarious juxtaposition, on the screen above her, along with the menu, is a video playing clips of her son noodle-hopping around Lanzhou, removing his glasses to slurp bowls, doing his own noodle pulls, and talking about noodles. The video jumps from Zi at various tables to tutorials on how to make the soup to maps of China and Silk Road history, mostly in Mandarin with subtitles.
Other than watching the excellent noodle tutorial and chatting with the owner’s mom, the thing to do at Chopin is to play the piano that dominates the dining room. That this noodle shop, as well as the shop’s other locations—Catonsville is the original, followed by others in Gaithersburg; Fairfax, Virginia; Chino, California; and a fifth, opening in Flushing, New York, this weekend—are all named for the Polish pianist and composer Frédéric Chopin, and that there is that piano, as well as violins on the wall, is because Zi’s wife is an accomplished musician. Zi himself also teaches music. Students from Baltimore’s Peabody Conservatory and Johns Hopkins trek to Catonsville to play while they eat noodles, says Zi’s mother as she delivers bowls.
So if you’re lucky, your dining experience may be extra entertaining. But even without an impromptu piano concerto, it’s worth a trip to Catonsville just for the twisty strands of happiness.