![]() It’s not as beefy in flavor as the soups at other Taiwanese spots in the Dallas suburbs, but not lacking in flavor either Wu Wei Din’s recipe is focused more on the spices in the stock. “Original” broth is a deep reddish-brown, gently spicy. We prefer them because their flavor and texture don’t get lost in the mix. Diners choose a flavor of broth and a type of noodle from thin, thick or clear the thick noodles zigzag into twisting, unexpected shapes and are slightly chewy. One order per person would be indulgent, but not crazy.īeef noodle soup ($8.50), one of Taiwan’s national dishes, is highly customizable here. It’s utterly addicting stuff, which even kimchi-phobes could devour compulsively. Golden kimchi is a kinder, gentler version of the Korean favorite, with harmonious, flawless balance between the moderate chili spice and the crisp, very slightly sweet cabbage. ![]() ![]() There was similar agreement about “golden kimchi,” an appetizer found at, internet searching suggests, no other restaurant in Dallas ($4.75). They come seven to an order everyone at my table agreed that we could have finished off at least one order per person. The wontons themselves have fresh wrappers and come with a chili oil-based dipping sauce that’s spicy, but not excessive. The spicy wontons are fantastic, with either flavorful pork filling or a surprisingly good combination of pork and shrimp ($7.99). Kathy Tran What’s good? Almost everything. There’s a short list of appetizers and then a carb-heavy onslaught of wontons, dumplings, noodle soups, noodle bowls without soup and, at the end, a few vegetables to provide the meal with a veneer of nutrition. The paper menu, a single front-and-back sheet in English and Mandarin, couldn’t be much simpler. And with good reason: Wu Wei Din’s food is the kind of glorious stuff that inspires mad cravings and long drives. This is Wu Wei Din, a Taiwanese noodle-and-wonton restaurant that opened early last year and has been filled with hungry customers ever since. (It’s a dog training school.)Īll the cars in the lot are parked in front of one tiny storefront, next to the auto parts store, facing 15th Street. Over in one corner, a sign declares “Cosmic Canine,” as if no other explanation is needed. ![]() There’s a closed, unfriendly looking office for the ride-hailing company Uber, an indoor bouncy castle venue and a series of closed offices for the likes of a local swimming league and a ballet school. Hidden away in a leafy residential corner of Plano, Prairie Creek Village is an unusual collection of businesses. It’s noon on a Sunday, and the strip mall feels abandoned. ![]()
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