北門田不辣

The menu is a single line: tianbula, large or small. In the bowl go slices of fishcake, fried tofu, pig's blood rice cake, white radish and fish balls, all sitting in a broth built on miso, with a heavy spoonful of sweet sauce over the top and a jar of house-made dried-anchovy chilli beside it — heat with the savour of dried fish, and if you like it hot you can stir the whole bowl through. The radish is stewed to translucency, the blood rice cake soft with a grain to it. When you're done, ask them to pour broth into what's left of the sauce, scatter chopped garlic chives over it, and finish it as a soup.

The shop is on Beimen Street, an old glass cart parked under a blue roller door, a piece of calligraphy reading 田不辣 on the wall with the price board pinned up beside it. It is a small room, a few tables and a television, and mostly filled by locals who walked a few steps to get there; one review says, "As good as ever, still the taste I remember from childhood." It opens at noon, closes Mondays and Wednesdays, and shuts once it sells out, so arrive late and you'll be coming back another day.