One of north east London’s best noodle dishes can be found in Walthamstow’s Etles on their dedicated Uyghur menu. The ganbian 干煸 in ganbian chaomian essentially means ‘dry fried’ and exists in opposition to the soups which are hale and hearty but don’t quite hit the spot like these perfect fried worms of dough, chewy and glistening with a lick of caramelisation from the wok.

Behind an unassuming facade sits Dilara, one of the very few Uyghur restaurants in London — the others being Etles and Karvon. Dishes here like at Etles can be variable, but the da pan ji or big plate chicken is arguably one of London’s best, if ordered spicy, and is herbal and numbing in a shallow broth and laden with chicken on the bone.

Liang pi. Cold skin. On the face of it, these body temperature noodles are almost a jelly hybrid in a sauce that essentially tastes like a liquid version of Nice n Spicy Nik Naks, which should be off putting but somehow it’s simultaneously one of the best things ever. Oh and the biang biang is also quite good. 

The trick with crispy noodles, with great crispy noodles, is to get that satisfying contrast between the outer bits that should look like burnt wiring after an electrical fault, and the middle bits that have been softened into mush by sauce. This is nailed at Seto in its gomoku noodles, a great chuka (Chinese-Japanese) dish sodden in a thick, savoury sauce and pockmarked with all things delicious — pork belly, squid and fish balls. 

One of Kingsland Road’s few unimpeachable dishes, the bun cha at BunBunBun — so good they named it thrice — comes correct Hanoi style with pork and meatballs bobbing in a slick of oily broth to dip cold noodles into. After so many mediocre versions of bun cha in London the first bite is like Dorothy landing in a technicolor Oz. 

For food as theatre there are very few things more exciting than lobster noodles, the whole beast an angry red and cut up into breakable chunks dripping meaty juices onto ginger, scallions and a tangle of lo mein. To truly find out which restaurant has the best would require a Jennifer Arcuri-sized grant but it’s difficult to do better than Pearl Liang, whose lobster chef defected years ago from the previous holder of the lobster noodle king title — Mandarin Kitchen

Chang’s is the best last resort in Bloomsbury where a baseline level of competent central Chinese and Sichuan cooking is guaranteed. Shan xi yo po is the best of the dried noodle section, hand-pulled belt noodles with shavings of beef, lots of crunchy veg, and their salty homemade chilli oil.

As anyone knows, the best version of Koya’s udon is soupless, so their plain, saintly udon-ness can be fully appreciated by nerds. Then, udon — the texture of elasticated waistbands — can be dipped in sauce, while the prawn and vegetable tempura, which at this point would be soggy in the soup, can be consumed in between, still crisp and filigree.

The place to be to watch all of London’s hypebeasts trying not to splash scarlet chilli oil all over their Vetements purchased 10 minutes ago at Dover Street Market. Food House mainly specialises in northern and central Chinese fare and has a diverse selection of noodles, the best of which is the red oil version with lamb or beef, which can be stirred in at the table adding a kick of chilli to an oily, umami-rich broth.

Those who doubt that the Italians stole pasta from China need only come to Wardour St and order Hung’s spaghettini fritti in soy sauce brodo with crispy capicola to be convinced. For some reason it’s only possible to order the king prawn dumplings on boiled noodles with a fuss, but add them to the crispy version that’s some good tortellini too.

No one does a good char kuey teow, so the next best thing is wat tan hor, which is a song of char and gloop that can cover up an okay char kuey teow by enveloping it in slippery egg sauce. Laksamania does a nice, restrained version but restraint with wat tan hor is like restraint during any other purely pleasure making activity — it’s not the point. C&R’s version hits the spot a little better. Its wok hei is more soot than smoke, but at least it’s there, and the egg sauce just barely coddles the noodles, rather than drowning them.

Murger Han Han and Xi’an Impression share two great noodle dishes — the liang pi and the biang biang. Where Murger Han has the advantage is on the la tiao zi, elastic hand-pulled noodles similar to la mian which come with toppings of tomato, egg sauce and various meats and chilli oils that add compelling textures and flavours in each pull. 

Elephant and Castle is a good place to see some unlikely South American noodle combinations such as the aeropuerto at Sabor Peruano that combines fried rice and noodles for the indecisive. But the best, when it’s on — which is rarely, but Saturday afternoon is a good bet — is Faye Gomes’s Guyanese chow mein which follows the Chinese template with the judicious additions of thyme and scotch bonnets. Umana Yana — London’s other great Guyanese takeaway — will hopefully add this to its roti menu soon.

Hakka noodles, Hong Kong noodles, Szechuan noodles — Desi-Chinese food has a great noodle tradition that can be sampled at pretty much any Indian restaurant from Harrow to Hounslow. One of the best can be found on Bombay Chow’s sizzler section, vivid with nostalgia, the menu promising “an old steam engine, sizzling and steaming and spluttering to a halt in front of you.” Order the triple Szechuan, a vast mound of fried rice, crispy noodles, sauce, gravy and a necessarily unnecessary fried egg.

Everyone’s favourite Xinjiang restaurant has secretly been in decline for years, but no one speaks about it because there’s a south London omerta. There is still one dish that holds up well, and that’s the T.E.P noodles. A variation on the classic Chinese comfort food axis of noodles, egg and tomato, this adds green peppers into the mix for a bowl of what is essentially wriggly shakshuka. Order this plus a few skewers of shish kebab and that’s the best possible one person Silk Road order.