
Feng Ying Guilin Rice Noodle
A small chain from the San Gabriel Valley brings rice noodle bowls from South China to Santa Ana
Opened in May 2026, Santa Ana’s Feng Ying Guilin Rice Noodle (also stylized FengYing) specializes in a recipe from South China that you’ll find breathlessly touted online as “famous,” “legendary,” and “over 2,000 years old” – Guilin noodles from the province of Guangxi. The concept pairs rounded, medium-thickness rice noodles with a small portion of light brown meat stock and soy-based sauce, proteins of your choice, and sour vegetables, then gives you access to a set of additional toppings to customize the flavor and texture to your liking.
Half of Feng Ying’s single-page, double-sided menu offers varied toppings for this dry noodle dish, ranging from a $10 vegetarian version to a $20 “house special” with six different proteins. The other half offers soups pairing the same basic ingredients with pickled cabbage, at prices from $11 to $18 based on proteins; most entrees are $15 or $16 with a single choice of meat. Several cold appetizers ($8 to $12) include cucumber salad, tofu with pepper or chilis, century eggs, and two sliced beef options.
Offering seating for roughly 30 people in a space near Costa Mesa’s Ikea and Kaiser Permanente’s Harbor-MacArthur offices, Feng Ying turns out to be the third location of a small San Gabriel Valley-based chain that has added one restaurant each year since opening in 2024. In Santa Ana, Feng Ying chose a corner shop at the somewhat anonymous Harbor Promenade Shopping Center, which is also home to fine dining establishment Darkroom, Tommy Pastrami New York Delicatessen, and Vietnamese restaurant Nguyen’s Kitchen. Even by its neighbors’ widely varied standards, the service model here is somewhat minimalistic – guests seat themselves, and may or may not be greeted by a server when they arrive. A smartphone/QR code-based service system handles orders; on our visit, the “order placed” chime roused both Feng Ying’s lone cook and single server to reappear in the otherwise empty space.
Next to the cash register, there’s a “free condiment bar” with peanuts, toasted soybeans, chili sauces, garlic, green onions, cilantro, vinegar, and oil. Rather than bringing our bowls of dry noodles and soup to our table, our server handed them off at the bar with instructions to customize them before eating anything. Guests are expected to add some chili, garlic, onions, and cilantro at a minimum with dry noodles, and probably augment the soup with cilantro and onions; Feng Ying leaves you to select your preferred heat and vinegar levels, as well as how much crispy texture want to add with the nuts and soybeans.
Interestingly, the condiment bar advertises the ability to achieve five levels of heat across “garlic chili” (5-pepper), “black bean chili” (4-pepper), “special roasted chili” (2-pepper), and “chili oil with red oil” (1-pepper) options, though it’s not instantly obvious how to assemble each of them from the mostly unmarked condiment bins. As only three contain chilis – one jalapeno, one red chili, one chili oil – first-time guests will need server assistance to replicate those recipes.
We tried three items on our visit. To sample appetizers, we chose the “spicy” version of Feng Ying’s otherwise plain-sauced beef ($12), thinking that we might need something to tide us over while waiting for the lone cook to assemble our entrees. To see what the online Guilin noodle hype was about, we selected the house special dry rice noodles with crispy pork, pork intestine, snails, beef, beef ribs, sausage, and sour bamboo shoots ($20), covering most of the menu’s protein options (besides chicken). And since we also wanted to see what the soups were like, we ordered the Liuzhou snail meat rice noodles soup with pork intestines and sour bamboo shoots ($18); a small bowl of plain broth with green onions also arrived for free. Everything came out fairly quickly, partially because the place was empty when we arrived, but also because the dry noodle and soup bowls turned out to be easy to prepare and substantially similar in ingredients.
The spicy sauced beef arrived first and was good if not remarkable: a small bowl of fully cooked but chilled beef slices, soaked in a red chili oil that was surprisingly mild given its bright red color, then garnished with sesame seeds and green onions. It was just the right size for a snack before our entrees arrived, and could easily be shared by two not particularly hungry people while waiting.
Despite the online hype over Guilin noodles, we were more whelmed than overwhelmed by Feng Ying’s most deluxe dry noodle bowl, which was essentially the sum of its (many) parts: The signature rice noodles are closer to vermicelli than udon in thickness, lightly chewy and elastic rather than firm or al dente, and not particularly enhanced by the small pool of stock brown sauce at the bowl’s bottom. Proteins and the condiments you choose make all the difference in adding textures and flavors, though the sour bamboo shoots and umami-rich meats tend to guarantee at least those tastes as a base. As dry noodles go, we’d call the Cambodian/Chinese/Vietnamese options (and multiple types of thinner noodles) at Hu Tieu De Nhat more compelling, but your mileage will vary based on both customizations and how much you like thicker rice noodles.
The same noodles were at the core of Feng Ying’s Liuzhou snail meat rice noodles soup, which arrived approximating beauty thanks to a red chili oil-tinged broth, pickled vegetables, a scoop of snails, and multiple thin slices of tofu-like pork intestine on top. Our server’s recommendation to add cilantro and green onions further beautified and diversified the texture of the dish but didn’t do much to alter the flavor, which used Sichuan peppercorn to produce a mildly numbing spice level with a dull, mostly salty aftertaste. Although we actively enjoyed hunting for pieces of snail meat in the bowl, and the intestines provided some fun, spongy chew, the noodles lost whatever distinctive characteristics they’d independently have when soaked in this hot (but neither too hot nor too spicy) broth. It was a fine, forgettable soup that we wouldn’t choose over similarly priced alternatives at, say, Ramen Nagi.
While everything we tried at Feng Ying was fine or pretty good, we weren’t wowed in any way – as meals from South China go, we’d sooner return for similar Yunnan-style rice noodles and better appetizers at Ten Seconds or Xishang Roodle than come back here for Guilin noodles. Some of that choice comes down to Feng Ying’s experience: The seemingly abandoned space didn’t make a great initial impression, and both the service and menu options felt underwhelming. Unless you’re already a fan of Guilin noodles (and not sated by the basic version offered at Qin West), we wouldn’t recommend this place, but if you’ve previously traveled from OC to the San Gabriel Valley just for this regional Chinese specialty, Feng Ying will save you a drive.
Stats
Price: $-$$
Service: Smartphone
Open Since: 2024 (CA), 2026 (OC)
Address
3701 S. Harbor Blvd. Suite F
Santa Ana, CA 92704
626.528.3618