There are four stools. There is no menu translation. There is a woman named Auntie Lee who will decide what you're eating based on how tired you look when you walk in.
The chili oil is the point. It's rendered slowly with star anise and bay, and it lands on everything: the salt-and-pepper squid, the hand-pulled noodles, the free bowl of cabbage soup she brings out while you wait.
Come at 2 p.m. on a Wednesday. Never a weekend. And bring cash — the debit machine has been 'broken' since 2019.
“Come at 2 p.m.”