Want Wonton?

It was Friday. It was a nice day and neither I nor The Guy in the Cube Next to Me had brought lunch. He suggested we drive off to get some food. We were both getting over colds, so we decided to go grab soup. But what kind of soup? He suggested phô, but I never have good luck with phô. So then he suggested this wonton soup place where he knew the owners. Or at least he knew the original owners.

The original owners had a family spat and then one brother opened a place under the original name in another part of town, and the original place was taken over by the other brother and its name changed to something else entirely. But apparently both places were exactly the same, with the same menu and everything.

The Guy in The Next Cube said that everything at this place, from the soup to the noodles to the wonton was made from scratch, but that the place itself was totally ghetto and had almost no parking.

The guy was right about the parking situation: the lot was cramped and there appeared to be way too few spots for the number of restaurants in the plaza.

Chopsticks, spoon and mystery noodle.

I let my coworker order for me because the menu wasn't really in English and my coworker speaks Cantonese. I think the broth was a fish broth. The wontons were these baseball-sized balls of shrimp (you can only get shrimp, not that the English menu mentions this) wrapped in thin wonton dough. The noodles were..something? No one could tell me what was in the noodles. They were "wonton noodles". I sometimes wish that I could get better info whenever I went to an "authentic" Asian place. I mean, seriously, why is it that I can't get a straight answer at these places? Am I just supposed to assume that the lack of straight answers and accurate English menu speaks to the authenticity?

*sigh*

Whetevs. It was tasty. And my coworker was impressed with my chopstick skills.