>tree ring cake, Baumkuchen

Running out of good birthday or anniversary cake ideas? Not approving theme cakes' current trend toward way too much colored frosting?Baumkuchen, "tree cake", is a non-seasonal cake that does not drown in too much icing and food coloring, that could also be a more elegant alternative to bûche de Noël, come the winter holiday season. (Kransekake, resembling a tree, sounds interesting, too, but it doesn't come with fine baked-in growth rings.)

Secure a Baumkuchen, then admire its resemblance to a large log's cross-section. Count from the "bark," label your significant years with small flags attached to toothpicks. Alternatively, place a row of candles along the circle that represents the year you want to celebrate.

What could be a more delicious intro to a discussion on dendrochronology?

Can't find a Baumkuchen baker who does the old-fashioned labor-intensive spit-baking? You may be able to find a company that makes it with specialized automated equipment. A business idea for you talented bakers out there?

I could definitely use a slice with my tea here.

>nurunuru/nuranura-textured yam paste, tororo とろろ

When little baby birds thrust their open beaks straight up in the air, eyes closed and mouths fully open, they are expecting some regurgitated goo to drop from their parents' beaks.

Not sure how this relates to slippery, viscous goo meant for adult human consumption. The strange fact is, slimy texture (likened to... puke ... and various body fluids...) is precisely what some people crave and relish. How can I possibly put a positive spin on it after that observation? Explore slime advocates' Jungian psyche? Oooh... primordial goo...

Better known examples of this texture are stringy natto with mucus threads (糸ひき納豆) and raw eggs with rice (卵かけご飯).

The featured dish today is tororogohan,とろろご飯, yam paste-topped rice. The glutinous paste is made from certain kinds of yam (山芋, 自然薯, 長芋) roots, grated into tororo (とろろ). This dish is surprisingly common in home cooking, but it flies under the radar. Grated yam is also used on udon (とろろうどん) and soba (とろろそば).

Gross? Too gluey? Go for "crunchy" then, (paripari ぱりぱり, sakusaku さくさく, zakuzaku ざくざく), and stay away from anything nurunuru ぬるぬる or nuranura ぬらぬら.

>웰빙 "wellbing","luxual","slowbie" fast food, Kraze burger

The "well-being" or "wellbing" (웰빙) movement is an enormous economic and cultural trend in South Korea. When it's applied to food, the core idea is to opt for healthful, fresh, organic (유기농) choices and enjoy them in style and leisure whenever possible. Meat, vegetables, fruit, candy, rice cakes, you name it. (American beef? No thanks!)

A few English-sounding words seem especially well-suited to this "wellbing" concept. For example, 럭셜 "luxual," 슬로비 "slowbie," as in, "That slowbie looks amazingly luxual savoring his wellbing Kraze burger (크라제버거)!"

Kraze Burger, Korea's confident answer to MOS burger (モスバーガー), may not be the undisputed king of wellbeing burgers, however. Any number of humble regional burgers might welcome the chance to vie for that title.

Contestant #1... from Jeju, 30cm, HERB BURGER... and contestant #2...

>gnudi di ricotta di pecora, nude ravioli with sheep's milk cheese

Who can object to generous portions of homey comfort food? Gnudi, no less. Meaning "nude" in a Tuscan dialect, I'm told, pronounced "nudie". Nude, because it's unrobed of its usual pasta covering.

Made famous at Spotted Pig (served with brown butter and sage, pictured right), gnudi at Mia Dona is served with truffle butter sauce, mushrooms, crispy speck and sage (pictured below). It was early in the evening at Mia Dona, but it was still odd to see the rail car-narrow room partially empty. Recession, I know. The long hall is divided up smartly into three distinct spaces, however, and the inner and middle sections were actually all seated, so it didn't look as desolate as my photo might suggest.

(photos also courtesy of roboppy, MidtownLunch)

>Roditis and Negoska wine, dashed Άνθος τ' όνειρό µου

Michael Psilakis, formerly of Onera ("Dreams", Όνειρα) on the Upper West Side, has been offering diners a somewhat unfamiliar concept of high-end Greek fare in the form of Anthos ("Flower", Άνθος) in Midtown West.

I had high hopes for this Greek restaurant, since I adore Greek food. In summary, it is sad to report that food here is no more special than the more reasonably priced casual fare at its cozy (Italian) sister restaurant Mia Dona. However, you'll be all right as long as you remember that "Greek fine dining" is still an oxymoron. Also, be prepared not to be disappointed if they've run out of the braised lamb shank.

And my choice of wine soured the meal as well. I am really not a picky drinker, but the Greek wines, Roditis/Moschifilero, Skouras, Peleponnese, 2007, "bright wine distinguished by its floral characteristics," and Negoska, Angels peak, Macedonia 2006, "rose wine with undertones of strawberry," were downright... awful.

>bánh mì sandwich, cleaned up and ready for recession

Warning: for you foodie people in the know, there's nothing new here. This is
1) a public service announcement mostly for the folks on the East Coast
2) recession food idea #1
***
Have you ever declined something potentially good precisely because it was too cheap?

For instance, you've looked down your nose at humble bánh mì/bánh mỳ sandwiches because they cost a mere 2 bucks?

Hygiene issues? Have you ever read a headline, "Man dies from bahn mi poisoning"?

When your wallet feels light, you'd still rather do a Subway sandwich? (Bleh.) You poor souls, please do try Lee's Sandwiches. It's a chain, a sanitized and modernized version of mom-and-pop-hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese shops.

Mind you, these are not as good as the real mom-and-pop-hole-in-the-wall stuff, some of which taste as good as anything anywhere costing ten times more. Still, a sandwich here is at least as good as one from Togo's at half the price.

Pictures are from a light dinner at Lee's in San Francisco's Tenderloin district. Read the numbers on the receipt. (Cream puffs are on another receipt, not pictured. And please excuse my bite. I had to try my dessert first.)

I don't feel poor yet (knocking on that wooden table!) but there's something wonderfully satisfying about a good cheap meal.