There’s nothing quite like a hot bowl of soup on a snowy day. Sure, winter can be harsh, but Uncle Cheetah’s Soup Shop (1133 Wealthy SE) is the cozy silver lining in the dark cloud that’s parked over G-Rap right now.
Nestled among tree-lined sidewalks and vintage storefronts in the hippest neighborhood east of New York’s Upper West Side, Uncle Cheetah’s is a steaming bowl of nostalgia wrapped in a ‘90s sitcom vibe. It’s the kind of place you wouldn’t be surprised to see the local mailman ordering a Mulligatawny. Yes, it’s really on the menu.
Uncle Cheetah’s isn’t open year round. It reopens each autumn as the leaves begin to change. I had marked opening day on my calendar—circled it twice—but life being life, I showed up a day early. Through the window, I saw someone setting up chairs. When I tried the door, I got the classic “No soup for you!” (Okay, maybe just a polite “We’re not open yet,” but it felt like that.)
So, I returned the next day. It was already packed, line out the door, chatter humming like a laugh track. Inside, chalkboards listed the 12 fresh soups on offer that day, and hot diggity, the lobster bisque was back! I ordered a bowl with a challah roll—because that’s how I roll and ‘you had me at challah.’
The menu is massive—like, encyclopedia-thick—but delightfully organized. Soups are tagged for every dietary need: GF, DF, V, P… there’s even a key for upcharges and modifications. This place respects your choices and your gut.
On that magical day two, I sampled five soups. The lobster bisque was a creamy, ocean-kissed dream. The red pepper asiago bisque hit like autumn in a bowl—warm, cheesy, with just enough kick. The white chicken chili? A crowd-pleaser. The goulash? Just like mom used to make, if mom had swapped out the shells for cavatappi, knew it was supposed to be a soup, and packed it full of paprika. The potato leek soup was thick and delicious—comforting like a flannel blanket.
Outside, the trees danced in the wind, leaves swirling like they knew soup season had begun. Inside, strangers nodded at each other knowingly, spoons clinking gently. A guy near me said, “Try the 7th Inning Stretch next time—tastes like a White Caps game in a bowl.” Another whispered reverently about the Dill Havarti. And while it’s technically Uncle Cheetah’s SOUP Shop, you’d be best advised to also try the sandwiches. I saw someone bite into the Raspberry Beret—pulled chicken, goat mousse, and jam on challah… definitely not something you’d find in a second-hand store.
Uncle Cheetah’s isn’t just a spot to grab lunch—it’s a scratch-made, affordable experience you can taste in every bite, with a rotating playlist of favorites. Whether you’re all about that bisque (like I am) or “We Got The Beet,” there’s a soup that’s sure to please, waiting on Wealthy Street.
And while Uncle Cheetah keeps things cozy and casual with rotating soups and scratch-made sandwiches, his younger, more refined nephews—the Old Goat and the Electric Cheetah—bring their own flair to the scene, each with distinct menus and a bit more elbow room. Just down the block, you’ll find their long-lost Italian brother, Testa Rossa, turning heads with a dining experience that feels like stumbling into a Roman holiday. But don’t let the quirky names fool you—this restaurant family is serious about food, and they cater, too! Whether you’re dining in on a snowy Tuesday or planning a block party complete with food trucks, they’ve got your back (and your belly).
Editor’s Pick Five—
Uncle Cheetah’s Souperstars
Uncle Cheetah’s Soup Shop offers 12 rotating soups daily, from a list of around 175 unique recipes — all clearly labeled for dietary needs. Of the day’s lineup, these five stood out as my favorites (shown above, from left): the rich, velvety Lobster Bisque, made with real lobster and a touch of sherry; the hearty, paprika-spiced Goulash with cavatappi; the bold and creamy Roasted Red Pepper Asiago Bisque; the spicy yet comforting White Chicken Chili; and the thick, rustic Potato Leek, a simple vegetarian classic done right. Each soup was flavorful, satisfying, and distinct— a perfect sampling of what makes this little soup shop a local favorite.
