One of Manhattan’s First Uyghur Restaurants Reopens Following Eviction

The lagman noodles at Uyghur Caravan Cuisine.

Uyghur restaurants are rare. So rare, that when Abdul Ahad Ababakri set up a small kitchen in the Financial District, he was called the owner of the first Uyghur restaurant in Manhattan. There were kebab shops and skewer carts before him, but for the most part, finding a full Uyghur meal used to mean taking the train to Brighton Beach, or descending multiple escalators at the New World Mall.

Caravan Uyghur Cuisine changed that. The restaurant, known for its hand-pulled noodles, opened on Water Street during the pandemic. The restaurant had fans in the area, including Eater’s critic. Then, after two years, it closed overnight: Bakri was evicted by its landlord, allegedly over a series of miscommunications. He started a petition to save the restaurant, but it never materialized.

Miraculously, Caravan Uyghur Cuisine has reopened. The restaurant returned earlier this month at 60 Beaver Street, near William Street, not far from the original location. It’s celebrating the reopening with a party on Saturday, February 24.

Different from the last location, the new restaurant has gas — essential for stir-frying noodles over high heat — and a 50-seat dining room that’s about twice as large as before. There’s a new tandoor oven in the kitchen, for making naan, and because I’m sure at least one person will ask: Yes, you can still order a whole grilled lamb for $600.

In 2020, Eater’s critic estimated there were about a dozen Uyghur restaurants in the city, the most famous of them being Kashkar Cafe in Brighton Beach. Unless you’ve been to one of them, you haven’t had noodles like these. Bakri stretches the noodles by hand in long arcs, then cuts them into different shapes. There are stir-fried noodles, as wide as worms, and thinner lagman noodles, cooked separately from their sauce. The diced-fried noodles are shaped like small corn kernels, and the flat ones in the “big tray chicken” are as wide as ribbons.

The noodles have to be made by hand each morning. Why? “If the noodle isn’t good, the food is nothing,” Bakri says in Uyghur.

Beyond the noodles, there are cucumber salads and big plates of pickled cabbage. There is also naan, but it’s different than in South Asia. Uyghur naan designed to soak up soups and sauces, and in several recipes, it’s served right in the broth. It’s sour and malty, like a good pretzel, but also dense and porous, like a sponge.

If you’re lucky, the restaurant will be making its lamb soup when you visit. The dish, known as “special braised lamb,” is a family recipe. Chunks of slow-simmered lamb float around with bones and fat in the broth. In the family, the hot soup is rumored to have healing powers: “It fixed my mom’s back,” says Ahmed Bakri, the son of the owners.

The younger Bakri is one of several family members who work at the restaurant. And depending on when you visit, you’ll find a different combination of them behind the counter, or finishing their homework at a table in the back. Originally, the Bakris opened in the Financial District because the children attended school nearby. After they were evicted, the family looked for another space in the area.

Oliver Crane, a founder of the non-profit Uyghur NextGen, helped the family find the new location. After the original Caravan closed, Crane and the local group Welcome to Chinatown raised several thousand dollars for the restaurant through a series of food pop-ups and donations. “There are very few Uyghur restaurants in New York,” Crane says. He wanted to help this one keep its doors open.

TK contributed translation to this story.