In the bustling heart of Shanghai’s Old City God Temple (Chenghuang Miao), a humble bowl of noodles has been captivating palates for over a century. Known as kaiyang congyou mian (开洋葱油面) – spring onion oil noodle with dried shrimp – this seemingly simple dish is a masterpiece of balance, fragrance, and texture. With its glossy strands of springy noodles, the deep savoury aroma of caramelised spring onions, and the briny umami of dried shrimp, it is a true icon of Shanghai’s street-food heritage. The locals affectionately call it “congkai” (葱开) for short – a name that speaks to its deep roots in the city’s culinary soul.
What’s in a Name?
Let’s start with the name. “Kaiyang” (开洋) is the Shanghai term for dried shrimp – specifically, the larger variety of sun-dried prawns, also known as “sea rice” (haimi) in other parts of China. These little gems are packed with concentrated savoury flavour, and they are the secret weapon that elevates this noodle dish from simple to sublime. The “congyou” (葱油) is the fragrant oil infused with slowly fried spring onions – the soul of the dish.
The Legend of “Fragrance Drifting Over the Nine-Turn Bridge”
The story of Shanghai’s spring onion oil noodle begins in the late Qing dynasty, in the year 1889. According to culinary lore, a street-food vendor named Chen Youzhi (陈友志) – also known in some accounts as Chen Youzhi or “Lame Chen” – set up a small stall in front of the Chunfeng Deyi Tea House (春风得意楼), right by the lotus pond at the Old City God Temple. Hailing from northern Jiangsu (Subei), Chen brought with him the Subei tradition of slowly frying spring onions in oil until they released their deep, caramelised fragrance. He combined this technique with locally sourced dried shrimp, creating a noodle dish that was unlike anything Shanghai had tasted before.
Chen’s stall soon became legendary. The aroma of his sizzling spring onion oil was so irresistible that it reportedly wafted all the way across the temple’s famous Nine-Turn Bridge (Jiuqu Qiao), drawing crowds of hungry customers. A popular saying soon spread: “Hubin’s spring onion oil noodle – fragrance drifting over the Nine-Turn Bridge” (湖滨葱开面，香飘九曲桥). It was a compliment that captured the dish’s power to enchant from afar.
In 1958, Chen’s stall was incorporated into the Hubin Snack Shop (湖滨点心店) by the lakeside, where the dish became one of the shop’s signature offerings. Over the years, many other eateries began to imitate the recipe, and the noodle spread far beyond the temple grounds. Today, it is recognised as one of Shanghai’s most beloved traditional snacks.
The Art of the Perfect Bowl
Don’t let the simplicity fool you – making a truly excellent bowl of spring onion oil noodle is a test of patience and precision. The dish requires just a handful of ingredients: fine wheat noodles, spring onions, dried shrimp, and a few seasonings. But the technique is everything.
The heart of the dish is the spring onion oil. Fresh spring onions (preferably the local “red-headed” variety) are cut into sections and gently fried in oil over a low flame until they turn a deep golden-brown. This slow, careful process – not a quick sizzle – is what coaxes out the onions’ full, mellow fragrance without burning them. The result is an oil that is richly aromatic, with a deep amber hue.
The dried shrimp (kaiyang) are soaked in Shaoxing wine or water to rehydrate them, then steamed or gently fried until they are tender and fragrant. Meanwhile, the noodles are boiled until perfectly al dente – springy, slippery, and firm. They are drained and tossed with the spring onion oil, a splash of soy sauce (a mix of light and dark for colour and depth), and a pinch of sugar to round out the flavours. Finally, the glossy noodles are topped with the glistening dried shrimp and a scattering of crispy fried onion bits.
The finished dish is a symphony of textures and flavours: the noodles are smooth and chewy, the oil is deeply savoury and fragrant, and the dried shrimp add a burst of briny umami. As one food writer put it, a proper bowl achieves “five layers of fragrance” – wheat, soy, spring onion, shrimp, and a hint of sweetness. There is no broth, no clutter – just pure, unadulterated noodle perfection. As the old saying goes, the qualified spring onion oil noodle should let you “eat the noodles without seeing the toppings” – the flavour speaks entirely for itself.
A Taste of Shanghai History
Spring onion oil noodle is more than just a snack – it is a taste of Old Shanghai. It was born in the bustling streets of the City God Temple, a district that was once the heart of Shanghai’s commercial and cultural life. In the early 20th century, as Shanghai boomed into a modern metropolis, street-food stalls like Chen’s catered to the city’s fast-paced new lifestyle – rickshaw pullers, shop clerks, and office workers all grabbing a quick, satisfying meal on the go.
Today, the dish has earned a place among Shanghai’s culinary treasures. It has been recognised as a “China Famous Snack” and a “Shanghai Famous Snack,” and it continues to be served at time-honoured establishments across the city. In the 2020s, the dish experienced a revival through food media and social platforms, becoming a symbol of Shanghai’s food culture for a new generation.
Where to Find It
For the most authentic experience, head to the Old City God Temple (Chenghuang Miao) area in Shanghai’s Huangpu District – the very birthplace of the dish. The Hubin Food Hall (湖滨美食楼) by the Nine-Turn Bridge is the modern successor to Chen Youzhi’s original stall and has been known to revive the “congkai” after a hiatus.
Other notable spots include:
- Dong Taixiang (东泰祥) – a rising star in Shanghai’s snack scene, known for its excellent shengjian buns and also serving a well-regarded spring onion oil noodle.
- Canglang Ting (沧浪亭) – a long-established noodle house that once offered a memorable version of the dish.
- Lao Songsheng (老松盛) – another time-honoured brand by the Nine-Turn Bridge, closely associated with the “congkai“.
Of course, you’ll also find versions of this noodle at countless small eateries across Shanghai – from hole-in-the-wall noodle shops to humble street stalls. Each has its own subtle twist, but the soul of the dish remains the same: that fragrant, savoury, utterly satisfying bowl of noodles that has been winning hearts for over a century.
A Bowl of Fragrance, a Taste of Memory
Spring onion oil noodle may be one of Shanghai’s simplest dishes, but it is also one of its most profound. It is a dish that embodies the city’s spirit: unpretentious, resourceful, and deeply flavourful. It is the taste of old alleyways and bustling temple fairs, of rickshaw bells and sizzling woks. And with every fragrant, slippery strand, it carries the legacy of a lame street vendor named Chen, who once set up a stall by a lotus pond and filled the air with a fragrance that would never be forgotten.
Leave a Reply