Lunchtimes, and at all times, Chen Lieh Tang can be glimpsed in his Chelsea kitchen leaning into steaming pots of Chinese egg noodles, mixing sauces, and teaching his cooks the tricks of his trade.
Since the March opening of his restaurant, Shorty Tang Noodles, on Eighth Avenue and 15th Street, the 64-year-old Tang has been in the kitchen every day, overseeing the making of each dish.
His son, James Tang, says he has a habit of micromanaging. Tang says he just loves to cook. He gets it from his father, the legendary chef Yun Fa Tang.
“Some people can cook for 20 years and still be lousy. For some people, it just takes two or three years to get the talent,” Tang said following a recent lunch rush. “My father, he had the talent.”
And now? There’s DŌ, a tiny shop located just a block south of Washington Square Park (where I go to school) that sells cookie dough like it’s ice cream.
People are crazy about it.
Here’s what happens with all food phenomenons (in my estimation):
First, someone thinks, “I really like eating cookie dough. What if I had a shop that sells cookie dough? People would love it!” This happens a lot in New York City, a place where innovation plus wealth plus gentrification equals a new cafe every two feet.
So the cafe opens up. The cronuts are fried. The rainbow bagels rolled. The cookie dough scooped.
Now this next part is vital:Along comes Buzzfeed to write an article about New York City’s latest amazingly cool and delicious and Instagram-worthy food trend. This story gets picked up by all the thousands of other trendy news sites. Soon, its not even 9 am and you’ve already seen three separate short videos about Dō on Facebook. Technology is amazing.
Another important aspect of this phenomenon is that on any given day there are about 3 million people in New York City. If you’ve seen three videos about Dō in the last two hours scrolling through your feed, then chances are high that the other 3 million people have too.
After I got back from winter break, my cousin Evan (who moved to Brooklyn in November) and I got together for brunch at our fave spot in Astoria. We’re catching up, eating pancakes and he mentions this place called Dō. I’m like, “sounds cool we should go sometime!”
But probably at the very same moment that I said that, literally everyone else in New York was having the exact same conversation. Because the shortest the line gets for Dō (according to the bouncer I chatted with outside the shop one day) is a 45 minute wait. Normally, it’s three hours long.
People still wait. Without even knowing if the cookie dough is worth it. And with full knowledge that Target sells edible cookie dough that is probably really similar although way less Instagramable.
Along with having people working inside the shop, Do also has someone working as a kind of bouncer and someone keeping the line in check.
(It should also be noted that while taking stock of the line for Dō, Evan saw his first New York City public fist fight. Tensions are HIGH when it comes to cookie dough!)
But this is why I love this place (sometimes). Trends are tangible here. They come and go so fast, but when something is popular people will wait shamelessly for three hours just for a taste. And sometimes you witness people fighting on the city streets. It never gets boring.
I’ll keep you updated on whether Evan and I ever actually go to Dō.
Lily Haight 