This Sunset Park subterranean spot specializes in one type of Yunnan rice noodle dish — crossing the bridge noodles — done many ways, some of them incendiary. Try spicy beef navel rice noodle, which features brisket, chile oil, and plenty of Sichuan peppercorns, reminding diners of the proximity of Yunnan and Sichuan.

Hao Noodle and Tea is the first American branch of Madam Zhu’s Kitchen, founded in 2008, with six locations in Beijing, Shanghai, Chongqing, and other Chinese cities. The best deal on the menu might be the ma milky mung bean jelly stacked like railroad ties and enhanced by crunchy peanuts for the spiciest vegan bowl in town. Other Sichuan standards include a version of dan dan mian with the softest noodles imaginable.

This no-frills Sichuan spot in Chelsea serves Cantonese, Vietnamese, and Sichuan dishes but the latter is its strength, especially the liangfen jelly noodles with chile sauce that are saltier and spicier than elsewhere.

Walk past the bouncer for the upstairs karaoke bar and go straight to the dining room of Flaming Kitchen, where nearly everything that qualifies as a Sichuan dish on the menu will be solid. Stick with the dan dan noodles or house special beef flank noodle soup (shown).

The hui mian, or hand-pulled noodles, at Spicy Village make a great base for any of the restaurant’s soups or dishes, but the best bet is to add them to the big tray of spicy chicken. Let the rich, garlicky broth of the chicken dish coat the noodles for the ideal spicy noodle experience. Eat them immediately. It’s very a small restaurant and has up to 40-minute waits at weekend dinner. BYOB.

The family-owned local chain has a slew of spicy noodle options that will fulfill a craving, but the liang pi, or cold-skinned noodles, is a stand-out. The meat-free cold dish with pieces of spongey gluten is spicy, nutty, and just a little bit sweet.

East Village mixian noodle shop Little Tong advertises its cold chicken mala noodles as a “tearjerker.” It’s a combination of pulled chicken, chilled spicy broth, pickled cucumbers, shallot chips, and Yunnan’s famed, fermented, non-glutinous rice noodles, called mixian. A citrus soy imparts the noodles with an acidic punch, followed by a mid-level heat — a pleasant “October in Los Angeles” warmth rather than “Las Vegas summer.” Torn bits of fowl provide chew and a delicate poultry tang, and then the Sichuan peppercorn numbingness sets in.

Without question the spiciest thing on the menu at any Momofuku restaurant: firm ramen noodles that are tossed with Sichuan sausage, spinach, and candied cashews. This isn’t a study in mala numbingness; it’s delicious capsicum-induced pain, which builds with furious intensity. Once upon a time an employee at Noodle Bar told an Eater staffer that it’s a dish he could only eat once a week, max. Share it.

Puffy and springy wheat noodles are a perfect match for tentacles of baby octopus in the Korean dish found just across the river in Fort Lee, New Jersey. And the ferry ride over there and ensuing bus connection is half the fun.

The menu is mainly northern Chinese, and classic dumplings, bao, cold salads, and grilled meat skewers form part of the menu. But the real action is in the section called Ma La Tang, which presents noodle soups in three levels of spiciness, from No Spicy to More Spicy. The heat is achieved with chile oil, chile flakes, and, of course, Sichuan peppercorns. The section of the menu called Noodles also offers several spicy dishes, including a wonderful “chilly and sour rice noodle soup,” which features mung bean thread, peanuts, and ground pork in a bright-red slurry. 

This lively Astoria restaurant specializes in Thai noodles in a tropical-canteen setting, and any of the noodles can be adjusted to exact heat specifications, with an extra bowl of bird’s-eye chiles on the side. Boat noodles is a signature — rice noodles with pork balls, sliced pork, and bonus curls of pork skin floating on top.

For Sichuan peppercorn fanatics, try the vegetarian dish listed as cold jelly Chengdu-style. It’s slippery mung bean jelly noodles, served cold with tons of hot chiles, numbing Sichuan peppercorn, bracing black vinegar, and bright scallion.

In a location that feels more small town than NYC, Little Pepper serves destination-worthy Sichuan fare. Get the spicy cold noodle for a straightforward starter, along with pickled cowpea with minced pork, the double-cooked style Sichuan pork with leeks, and more.

This Sichuan outpost just over the Queens line offers Sichuan favorites. But for something really incendiary, order the Yibin burning noodles, named for a small city in southeastern Sichuan. Found on the restaurant’s separate brunch menu, noodles come gobbed with sweet soy sauce, red chile flakes, and Sichuan peppercorns, which leaves diners gasping and reaching for water. In addition to a little ground pork it also contains Sichuan peppercorns, ground chile, soy sauce, scallions, sesame seeds, and peanuts.