There is something very Chungking Express about the food court at Uwajimaya--the permanent daylight of harsh fluorescents, the mix of harried/exuberant Asian teenagers and shuffling older people with nowhere else to go. You get the feeling that time passes somehow differently, circularly, as it does in Wong Kar-Wai's rather bewitching film; everything is the same, and not the same.

Cinematic metaphysics aside, it's also not a bad place to eat. In an aisle carved out of the new mega-supermarket, the planners at Uwajimaya Village have created a Little Asia that's as international as the International District, with representation from not only the empires (China, Japan), but from Korea, Vietnam, Thailand, and the Philippines as well. This is not terribly fancy food--it's almost aggressively homey, featuring every country's version of meat served with rice: the adobo, the donburi, the Korean barbecue, the Thai curry. The more upscale offerings, such as the prepackaged sushi, look uninspired, and although the atmosphere is more ambient high-school cafeteria than rustic kitchen, you can, in fact, get quite cozy with a big bowl of meat and rice.

For this outing, I was feeling flu-ish and my companion was grumpy as all getout--but it was nothing a big bowl of yuk-ge-jang (extremely spicy Korean beef stew, $5.95 from Shilla Korean BBQ) couldn't cure. The happy surprise of this dish was the use of shredded brisket--a cut of meat that just loves to be stewed--instead of something leaner and tougher. The broth was not terribly subtle, but was absolutely sinus-clearing, and I was reminded that pain is a flavor.

I opted instead for a katsu donburi (pork cutlet with egg over rice, $4.95), which is (as I understand it) the Japanese equivalent of plain old home cooking. And everything about this dish suggests comfort in the extreme: breaded and fried pieces of pork, eggs somewhere between lightly poached and lightly scrambled, pickles, cabbage, scallions, and lots of fluffy rice. This version was a bit dry--I like a little broth, for a swimmy effect--but really quite good nonetheless, very salty and delicious with the pickles keeping things interesting.

You could graze for a week here and still turn up new things. There are manapua, the Hawaiian version of humbao, which to me taste exactly the same as the Chinese style, but on account of being stuffed full of pork and egg and rice, I could only compare on the basis of a single lap-zuong (Chinese sausage, $1.40). This was like a pig in a down comforter; there is really nothing like a humbao to satisfy your occasional craving for pillowy foods. Next time I'll try one stuffed with purple taro (also $1.40, and a charming lavender color), or one of any number of Hong Kong-style stuffed buns from the Yummy House Bakery counter: ham and sweet corn, ham and scallion, and the most alluring of all, the bacon bun. As it was, I only had room for a sweet bean paste bun (90 cents), a perfect oval-shaped piece of Chinese sweet-and-savory philosophy (I don't understand how in the world those two flavors can coexist in one item and not make me gag, which they usually do). We also had a quartet of spring rolls from Saigon Bistro ($4.25) that were downright greasy, but ever since I tasted my first unfried spring roll (summer rolls, I'm told) at the late, great Viet My, I have never looked back.

Someday, when I'm a little less flu-ish and a little more flush, I'll definitely be returning for a barbecued duck ($12 for the whole bird... amazing)--a terribly beautiful thing, mahogany, crisp-shelled--and perhaps the deli folks will whack the head off for me. And I will finally approach the perplexing snack subset of sweet bubble teas (at Honeymoon Tea) with flavors such as green apple and watermelon. I don't yet understand the attraction of pasty tapioca balls clogging up your straw, but perhaps I need to be properly initiated, preferably by a knowledgeable teenager.

This is, after all, Asian junk food. You gobble it, you feel guilty, you throw the Styrofoam away.

Uwajimaya Village

4601 Sixth Ave S, 381-8454. Open daily 9 am - 10 pm.