By Arielle Nguyen
Oh my goodness, I’ve been a little prawn out lately. Downright shell-shocked from hunger, actually. And what better way to krill that craving than by diving headfirst into a steaming bowl of noodles?
To satiate that hunger, the Le Shrimp Noodle Bar was my victim—a restaurant where shrimp drowned my taste buds in a full-fledged flavor war.
This joint, located on Brookhurst Street and Talbert Avenue, specializes in mixing Chinese and Japanese flavors into a delicious, piquant broth—just thinking about it has me wonton more.
Signature Trio Shrimp Noodle Soup
This soup is a fan favorite and their bestseller. For good reason, too.
This dish is a seafood lover’s dream, featuring prawn, ebiko prawn balls and chicken wontons swimming in an eight-hour shrimp broth. When picking a noodle dish, you have the choice between wide noodles or thin noodles, and I thought, “Go big or go home!” So, wide noodles. Best choice I ever made.
This soup stayed hot even after fifteen minutes of sitting in front of my face. The shrimp broth—I’m salivating just thinking about it—it was deep, rich and packing a shell of a punch. At times it may have been a little too fishy or a little too strong, but the wide noodles acted as a sort of barrier, muting down the taste just a tad. There was a light kick after each bite, but even people who have no spice tolerances (for example, me) can eat this.
Spicy Braised Scallion Soy Chicken Noodle Soup
Spicy? With my tolerance? Yeah, no. But this soup? Worth the two seconds of pain.
The braised chicken was tender, pairing perfectly with the eight-hour chicken broth. The spicy level—a solid 4.5/10—was enough to kick but not enough to scald your soul. It’s the type of spice that lingers after each bite, but again, not enough to push me away from devouring that entire bowl.
The only issue was the sweat beading on my forehead. But hey, that’s the good kind of suffering.
Trio Shrimp Dry Noodle
This dish was the holy grail of the menu. This bowl was loaded with prawn, shrimp, chicken and prawn wontons and ebiko prawn paste, tossed with shredded cucumber, green onion, fried garlic and a house sauce of soy sauce and hoisin. Oh, my days, my taste buds were doing a victory dance; this was my new fixation.
Unfortunately, the shrimp was plain on its own in a non-spicy bowl, but drop it in some chili oil, and BAM! Flavor explosion. The prawn ball—an absolute game-changer. It had tiny little fish eggs inside that burst in my mouth like a firework of umami. I’m unashamed to say I shed a tear.
The verdict?
Whether you’re here for a broth that stays hotter than concrete on a summer’s day or shrimp balls that should be their own dish, this place delivers. Just make sure to have a handkerchief on you at all times if you’re prone to sweating—if the spice doesn’t get you, the shrimp-packed intensity will. Trust me. I’ve been here five times already.
Would I come back? You know me… shell yeah.
