Is there anything more felicitous than sinking your teeth into a moist beef rib, caramelized to perfection and bursting with smoky, peppery notes? It tingles on the tongue in a way that hits all parts of it like an electric current. I love the way the four flavors of sweet, salt, hot and omami (that's savory to some of us) hit your mouth in one bite. I first stumbled on these luscious, lacquered wands of paradise a few years ago when I went into Koreatown in midtown Manhattan to investigate a bathhouse some of my fashionista friends had discovered.

I still go to the bathhouse, and I always revive myself after being pummeled, steamed, oiled and baked in the sauna for two hours (looking good is exhausting) by sampling one of the many Korean barbeque joints in the neighborhood. My friends roll their eyes, telling me the point of going through that kind of medieval torture is to be more svelte, and here I am with a plate of ribs piled high. But I can't resist.