Sydney's Chinatown, the southern hemisphere's largest, is notable not just for its size, but for its scope. Among the large-scale Cantonese palaces, there are restaurants specialising in Sichuan, Hunan and Yunnan cuisines. There are Hong Kong-style tea houses, Malaysian establishments serving charry noodles, and strips known as Thai Town and Koreatown. Nearby, in Darling Square, new openings are bringing spark and buzz to the precinct's fringe.

But amid the brightness, Chinatown is changing. The seafood tanks at big, bustling Golden Century have been drained, the building sold, the wine cellar auctioned off. Marigold, a yum cha institution for 39 years, has shuttered, too, its famous trolleys loaded with pork ribs and buns no longer trundling past. BBQ King, revered for its roast meats, glazed its last duck in 2020. If there's an epicentre for the impact of COVID-19 on Sydney's restaurants, this is it.

Near Broadway, though, Chinese Noodle Restaurant is thriving. Known affectionately for the plastic grapes strung from the ceiling, and its generous plates of dumplings, hand-pulled noodles and soy-braised eggplant, the venue has kept the lights on with a mix of luck and graft. The luck in being able to give its clientele outdoor seating; the graft in leaning hard into takeaway and delivery apps.

It's worth remembering that this is a restaurant with graft baked in. Owner Xiao Tang Qin grew up outside Urumqi, in China's Xinjiang region. He taught himself music and worked as a concert violinist before coming to Sydney in 1991. After enduring 19-hour days washing dishes, he launched the first Chinese Noodle Restaurant and spent 19-hour days working for himself, pulling noodles from mountains of wheat dough, then entertaining guests with his violin while they ate.

Today, Qin and his family run six restaurants. The latest is the reason we're here. Anyone who has enjoyed the original restaurant over the past 31 years will find good reason, or indeed several, to head up Quay Street to its successor.

First, it does breakfast. Turn up from 10am and a line of rice cookers is ticking over keeping congee ($3-$4) at serving temperature. There's a pumpkin variety, one with purple rice and one made with pork and century egg that's nicely textured and gently satisfying, with just a hint of ginger and spring onion. Fried bread is on hand, and the kitchen runs a short menu of dim sum.

It's also more comfortable. They've inherited the space from the former tenant and left it pretty much alone, which means the terrazzo floor, wood panelling and timber banquettes are still in place. There are no grapes, but the counter is now a bench for shaping dumplings, right next to where Qin might perch with his violin.

The lunch and dinner menu, meanwhile, is a little more in line with Qin's Xinjiang roots. The signature dish here is the Uighur-style lamb pilaf ($12.80), which sees rice, carrots and sultanas cooked in stock with bone-in meat. The trick is in letting the lamb fat render out, lending everything an oily gleam and rich scent. The result is mellow, sweet and fatty, the rice grains distinct and just a little scorched. It's a plain dish, but the pleasure builds bite after bite, and it almost always sells out. Order something sharp – a plate of shredded onion doused in black vinegar ($6), maybe – to really see it come into its own.

If the pilaf's sold out, other Xinjiang specialties abound. The lamb skewers ($4 each) are nicely charred and dusted with chilli and cumin.

The noodles, pulled into irregular strings, are presented a few different ways: stir-fried and saucy ($14.80), in a soup or in a northern-style cold dish ($14.80) topped with mince and a salad of vinegary tomato, cucumber and lettuce. 

As at the original, it's mandatory to throw in some dumplings, which can be steamed, boiled or pan-fried, with your choice of filling (egg and chives, perhaps, or beef and celery). Fried ($14.80 for 12) is the pick; the dough is thick, the base satisfyingly crisp. Mix your own dipping bowl of vinegar, soy and chilli and have at it.

A warning: the new CNR is comfortable, but it's still low-rent. Service is friendly and quick, but that's about it. And while some dishes stay just under the limit for oiliness, the fried lamb buns ($14.80 for two) positively drip. The generic Australian-Chinese-style dishes, such as honey prawns, can be skipped entirely.

One dish that shouldn't be skipped, though, is the soy-braised eggplant ($15.80). Fried, then coated in a sweet, sticky sauce, it's a classic for a reason, one that picks up the spirit of the original restaurant and drops it right here on the corner with Qin and his violin. Oh look, here he is now, playing Vivaldi.

Vibe: Family-run place with a touch of polish – and occasional violin

Go-to dish: Xinjiang lamb pilaf ($12.80 for medium)

Drinks: BYO, with corkage just $2 a head

Cost: About $50 for two

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine