Business Spotlight: Eldridge Street Store

What’s behind those neon lights? Eldridge Street Store on pushing the boundaries of what a restaurant can be — one duck lo mein at a time.

Written and photographed by Kat St. Martin

Eldridge Street Store is not your typical casual Chinese restaurant. Nestled off the flashier and more chaotic Delancey and Allen streets, I was lured in by the captivating neon signs hanging in the window. I sat down with Kenney, the 21-year-old leader of the team behind the concept, and soon learned why Eldridge Street Store’s look, feel, and taste is so singular.

Kenney grew up in the neighborhood, skating around downtown with friends from all cultural backgrounds. His roots in lower Manhattan are reflected in Eldridge Street Store, an aesthetic combination of nods to Chinatown staples, skateboarding subculture, and downtown New York legacies. Kenney describes his friend group as a melting pot, sharing he was one of the few Chinatown kids to have friends who weren’t all Chinese. Not seeing the kind of spot they’d want to hang out at, they decided to open their own.

When Eldridge Street Store first opened five years ago, it just offered boba and slushie drinks, which are still the primary focus during the day. The team also opened social-media famous The Sandwich Board, which previewed the kind of cultural flavor fusion that guides Eldridge Street Store’s menu.  

After the pandemic, the team waited for old favorites to go back to their late night hours—but nobody did. They saw an opportunity to revive the downtown spirit that used to be so vibrant, this time by and for a new generation. Eldridge Street Store’s restaurant era was conceived. 

“Everything creative has some sort of tie to Chinatown,” Kenney told me. Whether it be the music scene, the art scene, or food, he sees Eldridge Street Store serving as the conduit for recapturing that old school night-life energy that once permeated Chinese restaurants. True to this mission, Eldridge Street Store stays open till 4am Thursday–Saturday, with food service beginning at 5pm.

“Much of the youth culture is rebellious and noisy…because of that everyone looks down on youth culture even though everyone was a kid at one point.” The Store’s energy is driven by this mentality, resulting in an updated approach to food. The chefs are young, and don’t adhere to the traditional culinary silos that dictate restaurant roles. Everyone helps out, and no job is too big or small.

“Before we had even opened, someone left us a one star review calling us gentrifiers,” Kenney laughed. I asked him if that’s because people do not think of a Chinese restaurant as cool.

“Definitely, and people walk in here expecting it to look like the old movies, like a Netflix show or something.” Eldridge Street store has a different look.

Kenney gave me a tour of the space, and it felt more like entering your artistic friend’s cozy studio than a restaurant. Each element, from the repurposed ornamental door to the hand-sourced red tiles to the signs paying homage to Chinatown restaurants who have since shuttered their doors, was purposefully selected by Kenney and his team. 

“Everything that’s in here was chosen for a reason. Nothing is random,” he explained. 

The team went about furnishing the spot like museum curators, only picking pieces that fit their vibe. An original neon work, on loan from modern artist Timothy Curtis, bathes the back of the store in red light. If something perfect did not exist, they built it. “Our tables are Frankensteins, the chairs are from a ranch in Texas, and the tables from the same company that does Costco’s cafeteria tables, just made smaller.” 

Adorning the walls are signs rescued from demolished buildings and restaurants that had gone out of business. The team handles the acquisitions DIY-style, bringing their own tools and carting off the signs themselves. At a booth in the back, signs hang for 69 Bayard, a since-closed late night Chinese spot. Lower East Side kids and pop culture icons like Andy Warhol used to frequent 69 Bayard, a spirit that now lives on in Eldridge Street Store. As we walk through the space, boisterous shouts punctuate our conversation, diners chatting and laughing, infusing the space with a comfortable glow of familiarity and warmth. Even though it’s my first time here, I can already tell I’ll want to return.  

Like its founders, the menu at Eldridge Street Store is a melting pot of lower Manhattan. Inspired by their visits to favorite restaurants, Kenney and his crew began to develop a flavor profile that was uniquely theirs. On the menu, Duck Noodle Soup sits next to Chicken & Broccoli Chino Dominicano, next to tostones with savory Chinese dipping sauce. Anything that can be sourced within Chinatown is, from the noodles made fresh on Canal street each morning to fruits and vegetables provided by local street vendors. 

“This is true LES, not just one flavor, but everything’s a little Chinese,” Kenney explained when describing the menu. I listened while sipping on a drink called Kenney’s Sorrel, a Jamaican-inspired sorrel made from hibiscus and spices, delightfully bolstered by sweet mango star-shaped jellies. It was delicious, and the perfect summer evening treat.

While the cooks may be young, the flavors and techniques used are rooted in community and tradition. In addition to doing their own tasting, the team spoke to various iconic Chinatown restaurants to get a sense of flavor profiles, learning how to do the tostones from one of their Dominican friends, and how to fry the wings from a Malaysian-Chinese former takeout cook. For every dish, each ingredient is weighed out down to the gram to ensure consistency. 

The food is everything you’d want to eat after a night out. Cold sesame noodles, savory duck lo mein, crisp cucumbers adorned with chili oil, and the creamiest peanut butter noodles I’ve ever had. Eldridge Street Store is pushing back on the idea that people should come to Chinatown only for cheap food. Kenney shared that some customers have complained the prices are not as cheap as Chinatown is known for, but countered that “$8 for noodles is still a pretty good deal.” 

After our meal, the conversation turned to New York’s future. 

“If there’s no youth culture, a city is doomed. New York has died so many times, but for some reason something just sparks it back up. Chinatown was dead for a while, and the rhythm had to get picked up by new people,” Kenney reflects. 

The team behind Eldridge Street Store plans to keep subverting expectations. Kenney tells me that this is just the beginning for them. 

“We want to build a brand beyond just serving good food. We’re trying to represent a world because no one else is really representing us, representing downtown.”

About the Author & Photographer:

Kat St. Martin is a Chinese American adoptee who has found her home in Chinatown. She enjoys browsing the neighborhood for the best produce, and documenting daily life through image and word. She can be reached at kat.stmn@gmail.com.