[Photographs: Krista Garcia]

Yooglers

Vivoli

Two foreign purveyors of chilled treats—each with a very different M.O.—have recently opened in Manhattan.

Yooglers, a kid-friendly, rainbow-drenched candyland with fuzzy green cube seating and winged cartoon cows decorating the walls, gives little indication that this self-serve frozen yogurt store is a Spanish offshoot straight from Madrid. There's just something distinctly American about taking a nonfat (or dairy or sugar-free) foodstuff and piling on sticky sweet toppings.

And the options for excess are myriad. Two stations are stockpiled with over 90 add-ons like crumbled Pop Tarts, every breakfast cereal imaginable, cheesecake bites, mini peanut butter cups and gummies. Of course there's no rule against sticking with fresh fruit and a few walnuts in honey.

The one and only nod to the home country is helpfully described above the dispenser as Horchata from Spain (presumably made with tiger nuts, not rice like Latin American versions). The U.S. location has a few unique flavors, and Yooglers clearly did its market research: fruit punch and cinnamon roll appear homegrown and the maple bacon doughnut and sea salt caramel couldn't be more zeitgeist-y.

Light, slightly nutty and hit with vanilla and cinnamon, the horchata yogurt could be enjoyed naked or used as an unobtrusive base if you wanted to layer on the animal crackers and hot chocolate (52 cents per ounce).

Gelateria Vivoli, tucked away on the sixth floor of Macy's Herald Square flagship, is a different beast, altogether. Attached to Stella 34 Trattoria, a sprawling new Italian restaurant with a menu developed by Lincoln's Jonathan Benno, Vivoli is run by the granddaughter of the famous Florentine original that opened in 1930.

This purist is on par with other imported gelato concepts, Grom and Amorino, and sticks to the earthier tones on the color spectrum. Rainbow-free and lacking neon green pistachio, nine gelati (and three sorbetti) are made fresh daily with no special concessions to the American palate, though, owner and gelato-maker, Silvana Vivoli, joked about coming up with a peanut butter version.

Peanut butter and chocolate isn't really necessary as long as gianduja, the sweet chocolate-hazelnut blend, is available. The most unusual flavor may be the riso, like a frozen rice pudding made with Aborio, of course. Though chewier—the grains are very present—the cinnamon and vanilla profile, also shared by the horchata, is the only thing Vivoli has in common with Yooglers.

Available in cups only, no cones, the densely packed gelato can be deceptively substantial. Visually, the medium ($5.75) seemed reasonable for one, but could easily satisfy two dabblers.

Yooglers

791 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 (map)
646-590-2251
yooglers.com

Vivoli

151 West 34th Street, New York, NY 10001, 6th Floor (map)
www.vivoli.it

About the author:Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

[Photographs: Krista Garcia]

Country of origin: Denmark
Locations worldwide: Just two in Copenhagen and the US
NYC locations: One in Tribeca

Not to be confused with Swedish smorgasbord, smorrebrod are Danish open-faced sandwiches typically topped with cold cuts, spreads, fish, and vegetables, fresh and pickled. In Copenhagen, the commonplace dish has been elevated at Aamanns, a restaurant and deli, by using local ingredients, focusing on seasonality and making the bread and everything possible in-house.

This ethos has been replicated at the first international branch that opened in Tribeca in November. Despite a year-long delay, the timing couldn't be better, as New Yorkers have embraced the New Nordic trend at restaurants like Acme and Aska, the new incarnation of Williamsburg pop-up, Frej. And though not exactly treading in Big Mac territory, this modern smorrebrod, portable and available to go, is the closest thing we currently have to Danish fast food.

Beautifully composed and jam-packed with complementary components, the sandwiches would fit in the palm of an outstretched hand. One would be more of a snack; two more of a meal. Those with bigger appetites should make sure to try one of the meatier options.

One of the lighter sandwiches contains thin slices of cured salmon, a watercress emulsion and is garnished with pickled onions and small endive leaves ($9). Though still dainty, the hardboiled egg version was a little heftier with a base of dill-spiked mayonnaise, small peeled shrimp, and mini potato chips ($9).

The smorrebrod heaped with beef tartare is a signature, and it's clear why. The rich, almost sweet meat matched with tarragon leaves, cornichons, and more of those tiny fried potatoes standing at attention, is a dynamic blend further brightened with capers and onion ($10).

A forest of raw kale nearly hides the slab of pork pâté sitting beneath another modernized sandwich. The charcuterie is chunky and flavored with parsley, hazelnuts, and aquavit. And though the minced green apple lent a nice tartness, the pickled lingonberries ($8) advertised on the menu description may have been more interesting.

What's immediately apparent is that the dense dark rye known as rugbrod isn't a supporting cast member. I can't recall ever being excited by rye bread, but this version, baked with malt and sourdough, is sweet and a little nutty, nothing like the caraway-laden deli style that hides under pastrami.

You can skip dessert for the cheese plate (not Danish, by the way) with more rye fried in butter ($14) and a flute of cranberry-infused snaps ($7). For a post-smorrebrod sweet, though, I suspect most would be interested in traditional marzipan cake or koldskål, a cold buttermilk soup with toasted oats.

Aamanns

13 Laight Street, New York, NY, 10013 (map)
212-925-1313
aamanns-copenhagen.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

[Photographs: Krista Garcia]

Country of origin: China
Locations worldwide: Over 700 in Canada, China, Hong Kong, Japan, Macau, Korea, Taiwan and the US
NYC locations: One, in Flushing

Hot pot has never been in short supply in New York City, but that didn't stop Little Sheep, a big-in-China, Inner Mongolia-based chain from opening its first local branch in Flushing. Up until now, the restaurant's few US locations have been clustered in California, but since the company was bought by Yum! Brands (parent of Taco Bell, Pizza Hut and KFC) in 2011, it's likely you'll be seeing more American branches soon.

And the crowds have descended. Only a few weeks old with grand opening lucky bamboo plants in the foyer to show for it, diners with an urge for DIY dipping will likely face a wait, at least on weekends. If you snag a chair in the small waiting area, though, you can watch an entertaining propaganda video on a flat screen explaining the history of the company, and observe sliced beef getting packed on an assembly line with subtitles extolling the virtues of the "culture of grassland" and "chaffy dishes." It passes the time.

Though the hot pot procedure may appear overwhelming for a first-timer, it couldn't be any easier at Little Sheep, where everything is hyper-efficient, starting with the headset-augmented staff. There is a glossy photo menu, and miscommunication is mitigated (though not eliminated—I never received my mixed seafood, but let it go when I realized I'd over-ordered) by the placemat-sized paper order form divided into meats, vegetables, seafood, mushrooms, and tofu, with both whole and half orders available (prices range from to $2.95 to 12.95). The biggest decision will be what and how much to order.

And the soup base, of course ($3.75). If you like variety, the yin yang style that gives you two types of broth in one giant metal vessel is the way to go. When the crimson side, fiery with chile oil and peppercorns, starts numbing your tongue, you can switch over to the milky-looking herbal half dotted with goji berries and jujubes (Chinese dates, not the chewy candy), and perfumed with ginseng and ginger.

A crowd-pleasing approach is to order combo plates like this one, with both thinly sliced marbled lamb shoulder and beef ribeye. They cook in seconds and retain their distinct identities.

But unctuous pork belly gets kind of lost in this paper-thin format. If you love a slippery, chewy cut of meat, the chunky beef tendons might be more texturally interesting.

Bean curd puffs, lotus root wheels, udon noodles, shiitake and enoki mushrooms, cabbage and baby bok choy are just a few of the non-meaty add-ins to choose from. There's not really any right or wrong choice, though it's smart to save noodles until the very end so you can make a concentrated, flavor-packed bowl of soup; otherwise, they get lost in the pot.

Don't forget to pay a visit to the sauce stations in the back of the dining room. The selection is more like the greatest hits of hot pot condiments rather than the exhaustive rows of metal canisters you typically encounter (I never know what to do with the sugar and MSG anyway). Go purist with a single ingredient or make a mashup of creamy sesame paste, hot chile oil, sweet and starchy shacha sauce, and top it with a small fistful of cilantro and green onions, like many do.

There are also non-hot pot dishes on the menu, like these grilled lamb skewers ($5.95), if you get burnt out on cooking your own food. The hot version is genuinely spicy, though you don't notice it until the initial blast of cumin and salt gives way.

Despite the corporate messaging and sleek uniformity, the hot pot at Little Sheep is on par with any of the independent shops in the area. I would definitely not call Little Sheep "the Applebee's of China," as it has been dubbed by the media. It might not woo lovers of outre offal and those who favor semi-secret holes-in-the-wall over well-lit spaces with clean, modern design, but it's no less Chinese because of its accessibility.

Little Sheep

136-59 37th Avenue, Queens, New York 11354 (map)
718-762-8881
littlesheephotpot.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

[Photographs: Krista Garcia]

Country of origin: South Korea
Locations worldwide: Over 500 in South Korea and the United States
NYC locations: One, in Times Square

With its airy wood and concrete interior, staff in fedoras, indie pop soundtrack, and library-style back room with walls of books illuminated by a cluster of dangling light bulbs, you'd be forgiven for not realizing that this is the first US outpost of a popular South Korean chain. It's in, after all, Times Square, not a hotbed of small businesses.

The concept isn't unfamiliar: the emphasis on coffee drinks and customers parked with laptops feels Starbucks-y; the pick-your-own pastries in the front wouldn't be out of place in Au Bon Pain; and the refrigerated case of salads, sandwiches and wraps is reminiscent of Pret a Manger. The Korean influence is not particularly obvious.

To find it, you should bypass the espressos and cappuccinos for misugaru, a multigrain blend that tastes distinctly of barley but also contains black beans, sesame seeds and brown and black rices. It's said to grant amazing health properties to those who imbibe (gray hair prevention and heart disease risk are just two). It's available as a hot latte (small, $3.95) as well as iced, jazzed up with flavors like cinnamon, caramel, and whipped cream, as a frappe (small, $4.95). The lightly sweetened warm beverage is soothing, almost like liquefied oatmeal. The chilled version can be a little gritty if you're accustomed to a smoother blended coffee drink.

Cooked to order waffles are one of Caffe Bene's signatures, and some of the flavors skew outre, but none so much as the chili, cheese and fried egg waffles sold in Korea that didn't make the trip to America. In New York, the one topped with ricotta, almonds, fig jam, and bacon ($6.95) is an attention-grabber, but the thick cheese dominates, as if they were afraid of being too aggressive with the smoked pork (I was warned about its presence when I ordered). Bacon doesn't demand subtlety.

A blueberry and cream cheese waffle ($5.95) hits on more typical breakfast flavors, though it also translates well as a sweet snack. I wouldn't exactly call these a meal—or a bargain exactly—since each is a fairly small raggedy-edged square. The cardboard to-go containers they're presented in are handsome, though, and if you order hot food you'll get a classic chain restaurant accoutrement: the plastic beeper.

Soon enough, anyone looking to take a break from the usual coffee chains won't have to travel to Times Square; Caffe Bene has an aggressive expansion plan that calls for 50 more shops in New York.

Caffe Bene

1161 Broadway, New York, NY 10019 (map)
212-586-2010
thecaffebene.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of origin: Turkey
Locations worldwide: Around 175 in Austria, Belgium, England, Germany, the Netherlands, Turkey, and the United States
NYC locations: One, in the East Village

I initially wanted to say that this new Turkish chain, which has arrived with little fanfare, was so under the radar that they had forgone any signage, but it turns out that the bare storefront was only due to a Coen Brothers movie being filmed on that block. The colorful awning and window menu should now be back to their original state.

Though less bare than the take-out restaurant's temporary appearance belied, the concept couldn't be more simple. Çiğköftem is the name of both the establishment and the base for all three menu items. The product is a mixture of bulgur, tomato paste, and an unnamed 18 spices that sits in plastic-wrapped pre-formed balls waiting to be used. The slightly ruddier ones are spicy, though even the mild has a little kick.

This is the closest thing I've encountered to vegetarian tartare, and in fact, that's exactly what it's meant to be. Traditional çiğ köfte (sometimes spelled chee kufta) is a Turkish raw meat preparation using beef or lamb that looks exactly like these red, squiggly hand-formed logs.

Like at Subway, you can view and pick your accompaniments. The works will include green onions, tomatoes, lettuce, parsley and mint. Before rolling, wraps are finished off with a squirt of lemon juice and tarted up further with a drizzle of more-tangy-than-sweet pomegranate molasses.

Wraps ($4.50) are crammed with six links of mock çiğ köfte in a tortilla-like pita for a substantial hand-held meal. Once you get past the Play-Doh appearance and texture of the raw main ingredient, the chile-hot soft filling and crisp vegetables are a great combination and would make a healthier falafel alternative for anyone seeking a Mediterranean vegan fix.

You can also order what they call a portion ($6) which is a ready-to-assemble package of ten patties with all of the trimmings and a pita to roll your own.

The burger ($3) looks a little sad compared to the other items, but it's also priced accordingly. It was developed specifically for this first US branch (a New Jersey outpost is coming soon) so perhaps it's a work in progress.

And if you buy enough food, they'll send you off with a reusable fabric tote.

Çiğköftem

438 East Ninth Street, New York NY 10003 (map)
212-777-8767
cigkoftem.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: Australia
Locations Worldwide: 70 in Australia and one in the US
NYC Locations: One, in midtown

Midwest transplant Steak 'n Shake may have initially stole the thunder from down under meat pie chain, Pie Face, just two storefronts over. But the Australian café is having the last laugh—at least that's the impression given by the animated faces piped onto the pastry tops. Taking its name literally, each variety of pie has a unique identifying expression (there's a code to crack: for instance, a squiggly S mouth means steak) so cute you'd be forgiven for mistaking the 24-hour takeout counter for a Japanese import.

Available in regular or mini ($5.95 or $2.95) the portable meals are meant to be eaten out of hand (there's no harm done if you use a fork). So far, the most popular flavor in Australia has proven successful in the US too: chunky steak, pure and simple. The Thai chicken curry tastes more like the homey pot pies we're accustomed to than anything you'd find in Bangkok, but the mild green curry flavor, barely spicy, a little herbal, adds a fun twist to the cubes of poultry, potatoes and carrots.

Snackers can also order pastry-encased sausage rolls--which reportedly outsell the pies in their homeland--that also come in two sizes ($2.95 or $3.95). All-American ketchup would be the condiment of choice; ignore the plastic to-go containers of barbecue sauce. The stack ($7.95), which piles mashed potatoes, mushy peas, and gravy atop a meat pie, is also available for a more substantial meal.

Covering all bases, the list of sweets is actually longer than the savories. Sure, they have lamingtons, the classic coconut-dusted Australian sponge cake squares, but also flourless chocolate cakes, lemon tarts, croissants and assorted French pastries. My favorite was the chocolate pie ($3.25) with a thin layer of cherry preserves hidden at the bottom.

While you might imagine washing down your meat pie with a cold Foster's, Pie Face is very serious about coffee, a predilection Italian immigrants brought to Australia. Less serious are the cheeky names given to the blends from the mildest Open My Eyes! to the extra strong Kick My Arse!

Drip coffee was a concession for this first international branch--what are we, weaklings?--as well as a few other regional tweaks. We might not get to sample the lamb and rosemary or beef and peppercorn pies, but we do get a few specials of our own: the Mexican pie that incorporates beans and jalapeños and a still seasonally appropriate pumpkin pie for dessert.

Pie Face opened on Monday but is holding a grand opening today, Australia Day; according to their PR team, you can get a free mini-pie or free cup of coffee all day.

Pie Face

1691 Broadway, New York, NY 10019 (map)
212-247-9065
piefacenyc.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of origin: Canada
Locations worldwide: Six in Canada and NYC
NYC locations: One in the East Village

The new year has already seen the arrival of a delicious foreign invasion. Vancouver's Japadog is proving that there's more to Canadian fast food than Tim Hortons. Right at home with the ramen and yakitori on Saint Marks Place, these Japanese-style hotdogs are already attracting lines out the door of its first US branch.

Seaweed, bonito, daikon, miso: all traditional Japanese ingredients. And at first glance, all strange on an American frank-stuffed bun. These are no mere stunt dogs, though. Despite the seemingly outre toppings, the flavor combinations make perfect sense after you taste them and the proportions remain on the sane side of overstuffed.

Explorers should start with the signature Terimayo ($4.75) to acquaint themselves with the concept. The beef frank is drizzled with slightly sweet Japanese mayonnaise and sprinkled with bonito flakes and porcupine-like slivers of nori. The hidden bed of caramelized onions and teriyaki sauce add another layer of sweetness, but the overall flavor is beefy with a hit of pleasant fishiness tempered by the mayo's fat. It's kind of like a surf and turf in tube steak form, but very Japanese.

The Croquette ($5.98) pairs crispy fried potato cakes with Arabiki, a snappy, smoked pork sausage. The two star components are accented like a traditional Japanese croquette, with tangy Worcestershire-heavy tonkatsu sauce and livened-up with a small amount of sauteed cabbage. Carby or not, this hotdog was a good little meal in a bun.

Fries ($2.39) can be ordered with a variety of seasonings like aonori (seaweed powder), curry, butter and shoyu, and lightly spicy shichimi and garlic (pictured). The fried potatoes aren't anything special, but they are a nice starchy vehicle for the wasabi mayonnaise.

Along with said spicy mayonnaise and standard pickle relish, ketchup and yellow ballpark mustard, you can also find cornichons, barbecue sauce, and Sriracha to dress fries or dogs, the only two categories on the menu.

Japadog promises rich and fatty Kurobuta pork wieners soon. In the mean time, high-rollers can order a $13.04 Kobe beef dog dressed with caviar, a special exclusive to the NYC outpost.

Japadog

30 Saint Marks Place, New York NY 10003 (map)
646-476-2324
japadog.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of origin: Mexico
Locations worldwide: Nine in Mexico and NYC
NYC locations: One in Soho

Lower Manhattan just went from zero to two kaiten (conveyor belt sushi) spots in the same week. One kosher, one Mexican. Yes, Mexican.

Known as Moshi Moshi in Mexico City, where the stylish chain has flourished, this sushi en banda concept took a new double name when it crossed the border. They tout Mexican sushi and Japanese tacos, but the menu covers much more territory than that. You'll also find shabu shabu, salads, robatayaki, and all sorts of hot and cold appetizers. And that's before taking in the parade of eye-level color-coded plates snaking past the counter and booths.

Twenty-four different types of sushi are prepped for the conveyor belt and range in price from $3.50 to $6.50. Each is given a number which corresponds to the description on the placemat.

If you've ever eaten sushi in Mexico City (I can't resist trying cuisines that aren't native to foreign cities I visit, even if it rarely ends well) you know that Chilangos have a penchant for cream cheese in their rolls. The same is true at Taka Taka; more than half of the pick-your-own sushi styles contain spreadable dairy. Oh, and they also have no fear of combining eel with mango.

While the maki isn't wildly unorthodox--various chiles grace a few offerings--dipping sauces are provided in addition to the standard bottle of soy. Continuing the love of all things creamy, mayonnaises come spiked with both wasabi and chipotle, and chopped serranos infuse the more traditional soy sauce.

Visually reminiscent of a Taco Bell pizza (though infinitely better tasting) the tostada ($11) topped with salmon sashimi, black olives, jalapeños, tomatoes, red onions, masago, and drizzled with chipotle mayo, is a worthwhile starter.

The idea of sushi caliente was off-putting at first, but frankly the more the rolls stray from their Japanese roots, the better they are. The Garces ($9) contains tempura shrimp and avocado, and the rice is capped with a thin bubbly layer of melted Manchego crowned by jalapeño slivers. If cream cheese gets a go, why not Spanish cheese, too? It adds an unexpected savory quality and isn't obtrusive at all.

The tacos are the most inexplicable part of the menu. They're more like what we'd call a burrito in the US (the dreaded wrap might be an even more apt description) and are priced like a rare delicacy. Miss Carnitas ($18) were described as tuna marinated in soy-yuzu and served with guacamole and pico de gallo. In practice, the dish is like something I'd throw together in desperation while scavenging my fridge and cupboards. Curious diners should focus elsewhere at Taka Taka.

Overall, the concept is fun--if you know what you're getting into. Currently, the cultural mash-up isn't explicitly apparent from any outdoor signage, which resulted in a lot of confused walk-ins during my visit. Anyone seeking serious sushi will be undoubtedly disappointed. Everyone else has the potential to be pleasantly surprised by chipotles and cheese.

Taka Taka

330 West Broadway, New York, NY 10013 (map)
212-966-8252
takataka.mx

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and reformed librarian. Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of origin: France
Locations worldwide: 56 in Austria, England, France, Germany, Italy, New Caledonia, Spain
NYC locations: One, in Greenwich Village

In a city already teeming with chilly treats—both homegrown and from abroad—you might wonder if we really need a new interloper. Maybe we do. Amorino, a Parisian import that opened in early June, is the latest gelato chain to make an appearance in NYC. It strikes a balance between the purist seriousness of Grom and Timi's unabashed kookiness (don't forget those sundaes with faces).

The closest thing Amornio has to a gimmick is the way that the young counterwomen use spatulas to scoop and mold as many flavors as you'd like into the shape of a rose. Cups and cones are purchased by size; how many varieties you want crammed inside each vessel is up to you. With the lines that have been permanently snaking through the corner shop, though, I wouldn't have the nerve to ask for the entire menu in a single serving.

A cup, though less pretty—as you can see, this mélange barely resembles Amorino's precise promo shot—is more practical (gigante, $9.50). The smooth, pliable texture is perfect for those who like their gelato soft like I do, but the softness doesn't hold up well in the heat. The cones' creamy petals start wilting before even making it out the door.

Some flavors are more striking than others. This quartet was made up of a mild salted caramel that only gave off a saline hit with every few bites, a wonderfully chunky sorbet made from Sri Lankan coconut, distinctive toasted hazelnut, and a vanilla striped with Amarena cherries.

Nothing is terribly out there; Amorino's premise is simply quality ingredients, no artificial coloring, and a tightly edited list of 20 flavors that are variations on chocolate, nuts and fruit with diverse geographic sources like Indian Alphonso mangoes, Belgian speculos biscuits and raspberries from the Northwest's Willamette Valley.

For $7.50 you can have a literal ice cream sandwich. The focaccina, which is really a powdered-sugared brioche, can be stuffed with as many cold, creamy choices as you'd like and then its edges are sealed tidily in a machine. The dark chocolate and rich, not overly sweet banana was a great duo. Combining ice cream with bread might seem a little odd at first (unless you're Singaporean and rainbow bright bread is the norm) but it's far more tooth-friendly than the thick, stiff cookies Americans favor. This portable (and substantial) sandwich solves both cookie shift and press-down ooze. Maybe not life's biggest problem, but summer is for small victories.

Amorino

60 University Place, New York, NY 10003 (map)
212-253-5599
amorino.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: South Korea
Locations Worldwide: Over 1,850 in Australia, China, Japan, Malaysia, Singapore, South Korea, Spain, the US and Vietnam.
NYC Locations: Two in Flushing, one in Little Neck and one in Sheepshead Bay

When South Korean 'BBQ Chicken' came to NYC in 2007, it took a familiar path and set up on the international fast food row of St. Marks Place, and Chelsea; the chain followed this typical trajectory and eventually shuttered both Manhattan locations. Now, there are two remaining branches walking distance from each other in Flushing, a logical location, and one that makes no sense geographically in Sheepshead Bay.

It's difficult think of a more generic name for a restaurant than BBQ Chicken (supposedly the acronym stands for "Best of the Best Quality Chicken") and maybe that works to its advantage in neighborhoods lacking a substantial Korean population. The clean and modern takeout joint certainly doesn't scream "Korean," even after a quick scan of the menu. There is chicken, all right, in 14 fried and grilled varieties including Cajun, buffalo, and herb-marinated. And don't forget the Col-Pop, a chicken nugget and soda all-in-one takeout contraption.

The restaurant's signature olive chicken ($8.95 for five drumsticks), deep-fried unusually in olive oil and touted as being healthier, is the best place to start. These tender dark meat vehicles may be all you need. The substantial, nubby crust is flaky and greaseless with a barely perceptible hint of chile heat. Though olive oil has a distinct flavor, you wouldn't necessarily guess that the poultry had been been bathed in it.

Those looking for the spicy, Korean-style fried chicken that's become so popular in NYC will prefer the sticky drumsticks of fire ($9.95 for five).

The American sides aren't any more compelling than what you'd find at a KFC; a sweet corn salad ($2.95) dressed in mayonnaise is a step up from standard coleslaw, but not a must-try. The spicy rice sticks ($3.95), though, are different in a good way. The fat tubular noodles are mixed with kimchi and thin flaps of fish cake and coated in a thick chile paste. You will not miss mashed potatoes or mac and cheese.

It's not clear if the number of locations in NYC will continue to shrink or if the restaurant will branch out to more unexpected neighborhoods to compete with Kennedy Fried Chicken, but BBQ Chicken has great potential for crossover appeal.

BBQ Chicken

35-22 150th Place, Flushing NY 11358 (map)
718-353-3350
bbqchickenusa.com

158-23 Northern Boulevard, Flushing NY 11358 (map)
718-353-3350

251-16 Northern Boulevard, Little Neck, NY 11362 (map)
718-428-0300

3512 Nostrand Avenue, Brooklyn NY 11229 (map)
718-646-3512

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: Turkey
Locations Worldwide: Four in Turkey and the US
NYC Locations: One near the United Nations and one in JFK

Like Juan Valdez Cafe, Turkish chain Eat & Go has an airport presence as well as one Midtown location. Situated in a small greenhouse-like structure in Dag Hammarskjold Plaza, it's not immediately obvious that overgrown kiosk is anything more than a standard café. It's not until the word Istanbul and the charmingly awkward slogan "Superior Food by Dessertist" comes into view that the stand's foreign origin becomes apparent.

At first glance, the menu feels conflicted. Above the grill, there's a sign for both döner and hamburger and the glass cases display baklava as well as muffins, croissants, and brownies. No one would stop you from ordering a chicken Caesar salad or turkey wrap, but that would defeat the purpose of visiting this Turkish/American hybrid.

Savory phyllo-based pastries would make a better snack or light meal, though you must possess a Popeye-level love of spinach to enjoy the dense gül börek ($3.75). The spiral confection didn't appear to be mixed with cheese or any other distractions beyond salt and the sesame seeds on its surface. The saline greens played such a dominant role that they almost came across as seaweedy—not an unpleasant flavor, just unexpected.

Where the gül börek was stuffed to the gills, the gölzleme put more emphasis on the wrapper. The thin, pliable pastry, kind of a cross between a flour tortilla and a crepe, was presumably griddled at one point (the pre-made food here is simply warmed once ordered). Krymali, pictured, is filled with a thin layer of ground beef and chopped parsley. Spinach and cheese varieties are also sold. The flavor was a little bland and doughy for my taste. (Luckily, I keep a container of Sriracha in my desk drawer. Maybe you do, too?)

If anything, I would recommend Eat & Go's intensely sweet desserts. The flaky, pistachio-crammed baklava ($1.50) is tasty and the ideal-for-sharing, square kadayif ($5.25) has a great texture, from its pecan pie-like gooey center to its crunchy noodley top.

Definitely a fast-food stop, Eat & Go isn't quite a dining destination, but could make a fine place for a snack (particularly when the warmer weather outdoor seating is brought out) if you happen to be near the United Nations. The only trouble is that the superior Güllüoglu is just six blocks away.

Eat & Go

342 East 47th Street, New York NY 10017 (map)
eatandgoinstanbul.com

JFK Airport, Terminal 1, Jamaica NY 11430 (map)
718-751-2824

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: India
Locations Worldwide: 57 in Bahrain, Canada, France, India, Malaysia, Oman, Qatar, Singapore, UAE, US, and the UK
NYC Locations: One, in Gramercy

One of the many brightly lit Indian restaurants lining Lexington Avenue's "Curry Hill," vegetarian Saravanaa Bhahan (also listed as Saravanaas and Saravana by the company) isn't instantly recognizable as a chain. And being a franchise certainly doesn't repel crowds; on any given evening there will be a wait for seating. Turnover is a priority, so the food has a tendency to come from the kitchen in rapid-fire secession, creating a battle for space on the small tables.

As Saravanaa specializes in Southern Indian cuisine (only two of their 27 home restaurants are located in the Northern part of the country), it's wise to stick with regional strengths like uttapham, idly, and massive dosas, despite a sign advertising new tandoori dishes.

Of the 25 dosas available, the cheese masala ($9.50) might be the best. The thin crepe made of lentil and rice flour is stuffed with melted white cheddar (not paneer, as you might expect) and turmeric-and-mustard seed-spiked mashed potatoes. Hefty and a little greasy, this is a far cry from the more delicate versions simply sprinkled with nuts and raisins or topped only with onions; it's a meal in itself. Dosas are served with sambar and three chutneys: red, white and green from tomatoes, coconut and cilantro respectively.

Poori ($5.70), deep-fried puffed bread, comes with two default curries—on this occasion, the potato masala that was also in the dosa, and spicy kidney bean stew. Light with a chewy texture, the starchy accompaniment isn't oily at all and a change from more common naan (which is also on the menu).

Idly (also spelled idli) are small, steamed circular cakes made from a fermented lentil-and-rice flour batter, the same as the dosas. Kaima idly ($7.99) are fried idly, then chopped into chunks and served them in a reddish tandoori-style sauce with raita on the side. This was an interesting preparation, and felt substantial for an appetizer, as it was billed.

A la carte curries are also available, and the gobi masala ($10.50) a notch below fiery and just a little creamy, is a good choice if you need another vegetable. It's hard to go wrong with Indian cauliflower preparations.

Saravanaa Bhavan

81 Lexington Avenue, New York NY 10016 (map)
212-684-7755
saravanabhavan.com

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: Israel
Locations Worldwide: 119 in Canada, Israel, Kazakhstan, Romania, Ukraine, and US
NYC Locations: One each in Soho, Midtown, and the Upper West Side

Unlike many coffee chains, Israeli Aroma Espresso Bar is as much about the food as the java. In fact, most of the customers filling the red leather chairs at communal tables aren't drinking coffee at all, but nibbling on the tiny chocolate bar that comes free with each order.

With a breakfast menu that ranges from mini pancakes to shakshuka, poached eggs in a tomato-pepper sauce, and serves fresh salads and vegetable-heavy, multi-grain sandwiches well into the evening, the food has an appealing wholesome bent. Since I've never been to an Aroma Espresso Bar on its home turf, I can't say first-hand if we're missing out on the original's quality. One thing we are lacking is some of the geographic-based names for the dishes; what we simply call a tuna sandwich is dubbed the Tunisian in Israel.

If you make to Aroma before the lunch rush, there are likely to be more savory pastries left. I was too late for the fully loaded bureka with feta, hard-boiled egg, tomatoes, tahini and pickles--ingredients that make many repeat appearances--but the flaky, sesame-topped crescent ($4.90) filled with only the salty cheese is still worth trying. All that buttery richness could've used a little pickle tartness for contrast, though.

A half sandwich and small salad combo ($11.90) offers variety, and the salad is larger than its name would indicate. The warm garbanzo salad, re-named from the Jerusalem on the Israeli menu, is a mix of temperatures and textures and combines the chickpeas with chopped tomatoes, onions and cucumbers, dresses with tahini, and garnishes with croutons and a fluffy mound of grated hard-boiled egg. Crammed with vegetables and protein, it's the perfect antidote to more common leafy salads.

The Mediterranean, known as the Iraqi in Israel, is served on nice, chewy bread; it goes down a similar path with the addition of grilled eggplant to the tomatoes, hard-boiled egg slices, and tahini. No one's keeping customers on a Mediterranean diet, though; roast beef, BLTs, chicken and mozzarella sandwiches using cheese from Soho's Joe's Dairy are all available too.

Rugelach may be the more traditional sweet, but Aroma's popular alfajores ($2) are pure South American bliss. Aroma's dulce de leche-stuffed shortbread dusted with coconut is a highly recommended sugar blast to end a healthy meal.

Aroma Coffee Bar

145 Greene Street, New York NY 10012 (map)
212-533-1094
aroma.us

205 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 (map)
212-557-1010

161 West 72nd Street, New York, NY 10023 (map)
212-595-7700

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: Japan
Locations Worldwide: Over 120 in Australia , Canada, China, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, Philippines, Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, the US
NYC Locations: One in Manhattan's Chinatown and one in Flushing's

Most people don't go to Chinatown looking for Japanese food (especially not during the Lunar New Year) but if you find yourself in the neighborhood with a ramen craving and hand-pulled Chinese la mian won't suffice, Ajisen, near Mott Street's hold-out video arcade, will do in a pinch.

The large room with burnt orange walls, bamboo beams and stylized hanging lanterns is more inviting than a typical fast food restaurant, though the food feels more assembly-line than at other imported ramen chains like Setagaya or Ippudo. Dishes come out fast and in no particular order. Not that Ajisen is trying to attract a serious audience; the blasting techo—ranging from the "Numa Numa" song to a bizarre version of the "Axel F" theme from Beverly Hills Cop—appears to work as an aural repellent for anyone over 30.

Maybe because my expectations weren't very high—Ajisen rarely makes best-of ramen lists and round-ups—the steaming bowl of springy noodles in a cloudy tonkotsu broth was better than I had anticipated ($7.95). The shredded cabbage, dried mushrooms and halved tea egg added interest, but the "tendrous" pork ribs are what made the dish. The three hunks of meat had been braised down to gooey, collagen-rich treats. The porcine fattiness was welcome since the pork bone broth didn't have a distinct flavor beyond salt.

I wouldn't stray into the full-page sushi menu, but if you weren't feeling like soup they also serve a number of straightforward items over rice. The grilled eel ($8.50), glazed in sweet soy, is unadorned and satisfying.

Starters include tidbits like vegetable-heavy gyoza ($3.50) and a list of yakitori that used to include liver and "beef guts." Now, the grilled proteins don't get weirder than fish balls ($5), served off the stick in a similar sticky sauce as the eel.

As is often the case, adhering to a restaurant's namesake offering is usually a good guide. Ajisen Noodles is really about the ramen—served quickly and cheaply.

Ajisen Noodle

14 Mott Street, New York NY 10013 (map)
212-267-9680
ajisenusa.com

38-10 138th Street, Flushing, NY 11354 (map)

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.

Country of Origin: Italy
Locations Worldwide: 29 in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Honduras, Italy, Mexico, Turkey, and the US
NYC Locations: One, near Union Square

Maybe because Piola has been covered in scaffolding for ages, but the Italian chain (which has been kitty-corner from The Strand since 2005) is the kind of restaurant you could walk by countless times without noticing it.

Inside, however, the cacophonous room is begging for attention. The walls are etched with quirky pictograms and covered with art for sale; dangling pendant lamps add even more color. The company produces their own quarterly magazine, available free from racks, and the front of the restaurant houses a wooden shelf filled with reading material including picture books on Brooklyn, the only indication of place. Minus that signifier, you could be in a '90s coffeehouse in any college town. Yet this look that originated in Treviso, Italy has been reproduced in countries as far flung as Turkey and Honduras.

Pizza is their calling card, and they sell over 50 styles that are eclectic to say the least. The global pies have names like The Beirut (zaatar, mozzarella, tomatoes and scallions), The Sarajevo (smoked mozzarella, ricotta and spinach) and yes, The Brooklyn (chicken, broccoli, gorgonzola and mozzarella). Slice was not impressed on a visit last year, and I can't blame them from their single-focused pizza standpoint.

That's why I restricted myself to only trying one pizza, one that seemed unusual and un-New York. Ham and pineapple, a not-so-guilty pleasure, wasn't going to cut it. South American flourishes are present in many of the pies, likely due the chain's substantial presence in São Paulo and Buenos Aires. I went that direction with the Curitiba ($14.50) employing hearts of palm, artichoke hearts, and catipury cheese, similar to cream cheese but tangier, to create a rich, vinegary combination. My mistake was ordering a white pizza. Not only is such a monochromatic pizza unphotogenic, it'll kill your appetite too. One slice and I was done for. A tomato sauce base definitely would've been more balanced with the already thick Brazilian cheese.

A pizza-free meal is also easily put together. There are countless and starters and hearty salads like the Rigoletto ($11), featuring thin slices of beef carpaccio, arugula, huge squares of shaved parmesan, and a little more of that Latin flair: avocado wedges. Diners are expected to use the olive oil, vinegar and salt on the table to make their own dressing like you might in Italy--or Argentina.

Penne Cividale ($14) mixed with fresh tomatoes, parma ham, parmesan and rosemary in a light cream sauce certainly trumps the Olive Garden, and the portion is a little more manageable, as well.

Diners are sent on their way with a shot of lemon sorbet spiked with Prosecco.

The obvious question presents itself: why someone would choose chain pizza in a city with so many options? Simply, Piola's audience isn't concerned with 00 flour, the pH of the water used to make the dough, or if the pizzas are cooked with gas or coal. The customers--who appear to be a mix of students and middle-aged couples--want variety, likely somewhere near Union Square and an easygoing experience. Piola also lures with numerous promotions like all-you-can-eat pizza and live music on Sundays, bottomless wine with entrees for the fairer sex on Wednesday nights and limitless gnocchi the 29th of every month. Value can certainly be a strong motivator.

Piola

48 East 12th Street, New York NY 10003 (map)
212-777-7781
piola.it

About the author: Krista Garcia is a freelance writer and librarian (who does not work with books). Being obsessed with chain restaurants and Southeast Asian food, she would have no problem eating laska in Elmhurst and P.F. Chang's crab rangoon in New Jersey on the same day. She blogs at Goodies First.