Fans start lining up well before the wooden doors swing open at noon, eventually to walk through corridors that lead them to a bi-level dining area that evokes an old Chinese village, complete with a water wheel, koi, and a faux fire at the foot of each table. One private section is elevated on stilts. Chongqing Lao Zao stands out from the high concentration of nearby hot pot spots — Hai Di Lao, Liuyishou, 99 Favor Taste. It offers varying grids: nine compartments to keep track of each ingredient, or three for just as many broths. On nearly every table, a hunk of red beef tallow slowly melts into the restaurant’s signature spicy broth that’s bubbling and fiery red — and can be ordered mildly spicy for the low of tolerance.

This compact, no-frills noodle spot fills with families slurping together on glass-topped tables dressed with paper menus. It runs a streamlined operation where you choose up to three toppings to go with your solo broth, noodle soup or dry lo mein. Treasured toppings include wontons that burst with fresh, buoyant shrimp wrapped in slippery skin. The beef crumbles and the tendon jiggles in the beef stew. And the oblong fish balls exude a smoked meat — and not fishy — taste. They’re a balm for the starving who’d see the truth in the funny messages like “I’m sorry about what I said when I was hungry,” posted around the space.

This shiny new mixed-use complex from the folks behind One Fulton Square injected another deluge of diverse options in sleek, modern settings. You’ll often find lines outside Shoo Loong Kan, the first U.S. outpost of a massive 1,000-plus-store hot pot chain from the Sichuan province. Newcomer Ju Qi landed in mid-August from Beijing with regional fare like Peking duck. For sweets and drinks, head to Cuppa Tea for Hong Kong-style milk teas; Machi Machi for fun and colorful boba drinks, and Meet Fresh for icy grass jelly and taro ball concoctions.

Of the three exceptional Sichuan restaurants in the handsome and suburban-looking One Fulton Square development, Szechwan Absolute is the most no-nonsense — slightly cheaper than the other two. Hidden away on the third floor and accessible by elevator, the restaurant features a menu that mainly sticks to Sichuan standards like ma po tofu, sliced fish in chile oil, and Chongqing chicken, improved with the stylish dough twists called mahua. Don’t miss northern Chinese dishes such as boiled beef with Chinese sauerkraut. 

Jiang Nan is part of the influx of modern Chinese establishments like Che Li and Szechuan Mountain House brought in by developer F&T Group to its One Fulton Square restaurant complex. Here you’ll find luscious rods of okra (without all the goo) in a delicate soy sauce seasoning, slices of lotus root with each cavity fastidiously stuffed with glutinous rice sweetened with osmanthus flower syrup, and fork-tender pork belly braised in black tea.

For a simple breakfast or lunch, drop by Miss Li Henan Cuisine, a mural-decorated lunchroom loosely representing the cuisine of Henan. How about a bowl of cold skin noodles, not in swatches but in tendrils, slickened with chile oil and decorated with yellow chives? For handheld snacks, egg-stuffed bing are available, as well as the stuffed dough pocket called pork and chive cake. A version of the Xinjiang favorite known in Henan restaurants as big tray chicken is here rendered as a spicy brown stew. It stays open until 10 p.m.

The soup-squirting dumplings known as xiao long bao are damn near perfect at Shanghai You Garden, whether you pick the plain pork or the pork with crab. In fact, their only local competition is at Nan Xiang at One Fulton Square. In an elegant coffee house setting, You Garden goes far beyond the usual coffee shop menu, offering dishes featuring mushrooms and gluten, pig feet, lion’s head meatballs, other types of Shanghai dumplings, and rice cake stir fries, another dish associated with the city.

This enormous fast-casual chain in China landed stateside in the summer with a sole focus: Sichuan fish and fermented cabbage stew. The five broths hit up all the distinctive traits of Sichuan: spicy, tingly, and sour with tangles of Sichuan peppercorns still on the vine. Take your pick of basa or snakehead (a thinner, flaky white-fleshed fish) fish fillets and toppings like enoki mushrooms. With rice on the side, portions are hefty

Way before Malaysia’s wildly popular Papparich chain landed in 2016, Malay has been doling out sumptuous Malaysian dishes since it opened on a then-seedy side street in 1988. You’ll still catch vestiges of old Flushing before the skyscrapers cropped up. An employee assembles satay sticks in a tiny window at the left upon entry. A sliver of an aisle is made even more narrow by packed tables steaming with chicken curry noodle soup. Other hits include the al dente kang kung belacan, or water spinach heavy with shrimp paste; barbecued skate; roti canai; Hainanese chicken; and beef rendang.

In the last ten years, the food of Yunnan has been increasingly appreciated here, centering on a hand full of dishes featuring floppy rice mixian noodles, and lots of Southeast Asian flourishes. The two Flushing branches of Deng Ji — one occupying the old Fu Run space — have the largest collection of big-deal rice noodle soups that the city has yet scene, most involving dramatic tableside presentations, and add-in ingredients numbering 15 or more. This place is for the real Yunnan aficionado.

The fast-casual Qingdao Restaurant, named after a northeastern port city, where Tsingtao beer has been brewed since 1903, serves fantastic, recession-proof steam table fare, where a tray of three items, soup, and rice runs $8. On the left of the cashier counter, find proteins like lightly fried and battered nuggets of fish accented with white pepper and fist-sized meatballs. To the right, veggie dishes include still-crunchy green beans, and beyond that, a smoky house-made chile oil with a floral essence that calls to mind jasmine tea. Don’t forget the small display case jutting out of the storefront. There’s steamed corn, bundles of baos, and some of the longest sticks of still-warm fried crullers, or youtiao, all under $5.