The sour-and-spicy sweet potato noodles, stewed pork belly over rice, and boiled dumplings stuffed with leek and egg or chicken and shiitakes have all earned this spare, snug Boulder storefront a legit following. But there’s more to explore on a menu that spans China’s provincial map from the northeast to the southwest. 

This tiny, 11-year-old counter joint just off the Pearl Street Mall was the brainchild of Edwin Zoe and his Taiwan-born mother Anna, who brings decades of experience as both a home and a restaurant cook to her collection of dumplings, stews, rice plates, and more. Here, the za jiang mian, braised beef noodle soup, and potstickers — a “secret family recipe” — continue to get top billing; a slightly different menu is on offer at the Union Station outpost.

The strip-mall digs may be humble, but the array of roasted meats on display at this Cantonese-style barbecue joint is splendid: While roast duck and roast pork are its main claims to fame, the spare ribs, soy sauce chicken wings, and house special fried rice all deserve a takeout spin.

Short on selections but long on fun, the menu at this Avanti stall centers on street food both classic and creative. That means not only rice plates and noodle bowls but bao stuffed with pickled shiitakes drizzled in Thai basil ranch; Sichuan-spiced mozzarella sticks; and, for brunch, steak and eggs wrapped in scallion pancakes.

The first challenger to the throne of contemporary Chinese cuisine on which Hop Alley has been sitting since it opened is a formidable one. In fact, it won Eater’s Restaurant of the Year Award in 2018, and not for nothing: The menu packs a heck of a punch for its size, whether chef-partner Chris Lin is slathering spare ribs in barbecue sauce, chopped peanuts, and fried garlic; reimagining lo mein with confit duck leg; or deftly tossing fingerlings and Chinese cauliflower in black bean vinaigrette. The bar crew pairs it all with light, sprightly cocktails featuring lychee, lemongrass, aloe juice, and the like as well as aptly chosen craft beers and wines (think aromatic whites like riesling and gewürztraminer). 

Sure, it’s been a Denver dim-sum staple since time immemorial, delivering turnip cakes, blood curd, cheung fun, lotus leaf–wrapped sticky rice, and so on with the best of them. But Super Star’s well worth a stop for a Cantonese feast off the regular menu too. Salt-and-pepper squid, clams stir-fried with ginger and scallion, spare ribs in black bean sauce, garlicky pea shoots — it’s all here. 

Don’t be fooled by the fast food franchise–like name and exterior — this family-run find excels at homestyle Sichuan fare. In addition to staples like dan dan noodles, ma po tofu, and Chongqing chicken, best bets include the fluffy pan-fried omelet filled with saucy pork, the tangy sour taste potatoes, and the pungent, numbing spicy boiled fish.

Never mind this South Federal outlet’s online takeout and delivery menu; the list of specials that ensure it lives up to its name is offered in the dining room only. Salt-and-pepper capelin? Deep-fried garlic spare ribs? Taishan cauliflower with preserved pork? Soups like “berries terrapin with chicken” and “fish glue sea conch sea coconut”? Bring it all on — and if some guilty pleasures are in order too, both the Chinese buns and the “fried milk,” reminiscent of Twinkies, double as dreamy dessert. 

Coming here for dim sum is like walking into a kaleidoscope of humanity — carts spin, servers blur past, the din echoes, and hands and mouths make quick work of flavors and textures galore. Every visit is different, of course, but none is complete without at least one order each of the leek, taro, and glutinous-rice dumplings as well as the char siu, pan-fried rice crêpe in XO sauce, and coconut buns. At dinnertime, try any fish dish and the hot pot of eggplant with beef rib in black-pepper sauce. 

Don’t bother with the standard Chinese-American menu — dry hot pot is the only way to go at this DU dark horse. Pick a protein (maybe lamb one day, chicken hearts the next) along with any number of optional items including fish balls, rice cakes, tofu skin, and enoki mushrooms to grace the tabletop wok; the sizzle of the Sichuan peppercorns will linger long after the meal is over. 

There’s no atmosphere to speak of here (unless “shabby” counts) — but there’s no need for it either. A big group of friends with plenty of time to dig into a slew of Sichuan, Shanghainese, and other homestyle standards like crispy shredded pig ears, cumin lamb, fabulous fish in hot chili oil, and ultra-refreshing, creamy-salty chilled tofu with preserved egg is all anyone with an appetite for adventure can ask for. 

Toothy, knife-shaved and hand-pulled noodles drizzled in chili oil or submerged in soup with sliced five-spice beef are reason number one to seek out this DTC hideaway behind a sign that confusingly reads Blue Ocean; rich, savory lamb dishes are number two. There are plenty more, from wontons to the sandwich-like roujiamo, but these make for a good start.  

This cozy little strip-mall find focuses on the staple dishes of Taiwan, each more soothing than the last. Bento boxes featuring braised or crispy pork over rice come with fried tofu, eggs scrambled with tomato, and veggies in garlic sauce, while the beef noodle soup and gua bao with fried chicken are spot-on.

Like several of the places on this list, this gem in the suburban rough offers two different menus. One’s got orange chicken, lo mein, and beef with broccoli; the other boasts tea-smoked eel, a jellyfish salad with the springy texture of noodles, braised pork meatballs so big they come one per order, ultra-tender Nanjing salt duck, and Sichuan-style dry-fried green beans. Choose wisely and then practice patience — the kind folks who run the place move as fast as they can.