​Six months ago, my boyfriend Slavko and I made an arrangement that we would meet for lunch weekly at a different Asian restaurant. He was born in Serbia and accustomed to Costco sushi platters, pad thai, and teriyaki. I was born in Japan and eager to introduce him to the awesome authentic offerings, of several Asian countries' cuisines, that this city has to offer.

Slavko has since feasted on Filipino food on Beacon Hill, soothed a hangover slurping ramen at Samurai Noodle, experienced the madness of Chinatown at 2 a.m., and discovered that yes, the Cambodian people have their own style of cooking as well - and Phnom Penh Noodle House's Lok Lak is tasty as hell.

There are certainly more restaurants he needs to try, but come September, Slavko will return to Serbia for several weeks. So it made sense that we stop recapping our lunches via blog. To make our adventure come full circle, I decided to take Slavko back to where it all began: Kimchi Bistro.

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​This late in the game, Slavko has sampled his fair share of Asian cuisine; including Japanese bento, Korean barbecue, and Thai noodles prepared tableside. But he's never experienced the International District's late night dining scene.

Come last call, Asian clubgoers looking to soak up the alcohol coursing through their blood head to the neighborhood. Its Chinese restaurants for greasy Chinese restaurants like Purple Dot, Honey Court, Jade Garden, and Sea Garden stay open until the wee hours of the morning, serving greasy plates of chow mein and deep-fried meat.

Slavko was unaware of this. After a night out, he begs his designated driver to make a detour at the Jack in the Box drive-thru. If they refuse, he buys a sandwich at QFC or orders a pizza.

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​Mochi ice cream is a Japanese confection made of ice cream-filled mochi (pounded rice). The dumpling-like dessert has gained popularity in the United States over the years, flying off the shelves of Trader Joe's and Safeway. For the original mochi ice cream made by Japanese candy conglomerate Lotte, you can visit the frozen section at Uwajimaya.

Given the sudden surge in heat here in Seattle, mochi ice cream seemed like the perfect treat to introduce Slavko to.

Lotte's mochi ice cream box consists of 21 individually-wrapped, pinball-sized spheres in vanilla, chocolate, and green tea flavors. Slavko found this amusing. "This is the smallest ice cream I have ever seen! This must be why Japanese people are skinny!"

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Crack cocaine (honey walnut prawns) at Honey Court

​Chinese restaurants seriously need to correct their menus. Because honey walnut prawns should never be listed under "seafood." It should be under "desserts." The dish consists of deep-fried prawns coated in a sweet-sticky sauce made of mayonnaise, honey, and condensed milks, then topped with candied walnuts. In other words, it is the crack cocaine of Hong Kong-style cuisine.

The addictive qualities of honey walnut prawns seemed like they would translate well to the Serbian palette; high in calories, high in fat, smothered in mayonnaise. (Slavko and his pals after all, spread mayonnaise on their pizza.) So I decided to serve the Serbian the best crack cocaine Seattle has to offer: Honey walnut prawns from Honey Court Seafood Restaurant (516 Maynard Ave. S.).

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Jamjuree lunch combo: rama with tofu pad thai and brown rice

​Jamjuree is a popular Thai restaurant on Capitol Hill that come lunchtime, is packed with customers craving cheap but tasty combo plates.

Having successfully turned Slavko onto peanut sauce, I decided to introduce him to Jamjuree's bathing rama, a dish consisting of peanut-chili sauce over a bed of cooked spinach and meat.

The description didn't please him. Dipping roti into peanut sauce was one thing, having chicken smothered in it was another.

"Meat and peanut butter doesn't even sound right."

"Haven't you ever had a peanut butter bacon burger?"

"No, I haven't. That's disgusting."

"People love them!"

"Who are these people? Are any of them Serbian?"

"All of them."

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Roti Canai

​Malay Satay Hut (212 12th Ave S.) is located in a dilapidated strip mall at a busy intersection. It's easy to overlook, but enough people know better than to do that. Before noon, they begin coming in for their fix of Malaysian food, an awesome blend of Indian, Chinese, and Malaysian influences.

On Slavko's first visit to the tiny restaurant, the busboy is running late. Really late. An old man emerges from the kitchen, stares blankly at us, then walks over to another table of two women. He begins talking rapidly and gestures toward us. They all look our way, then one of the women stands up and approaches us.

"Hello!" she chirps. "The busboy is late today. The cook [points at the old man] doesn't speak English, so I am going to take your order."

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​There is something about Spam that makes people, specifically Serbians named Slavko, shudder. "PASS!" He shouted obnoxiously, as if being weaned on roasted lamb made him superior to pre-cooked pork in a tin.

At Hawaii BBQ Restaurant in the University District, they would beg to differ; ask any of the cooks or the countless college students that come in daily: Spam is awesome.

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​Slavko has long been forbidden from ordering his favorite dishes at Asian restaurants; fried eggrolls, teriyaki, pad thai. The goal of our weekly adventures, after all, is to expose him to all the other awesome options out there.

But it only seemed fair to allow him to return to his comfort zone every now and then. "Comfort zone" being a relative term of course, as he still wasn't going to be eating stuffed peppers and sauerkraut rolls. He could however, rekindle his love affair with Pad Thai.

May Thai (1612 N 45th Street) in Wallingford serves arguably the best Pad Thai in the city. SW's previous food critic, the beloved Jonathan Kauffman, is a big fan. It is certainly the most expensive Pad Thai at $15.50 a plate. But it is prepared so beautifully that the cost is worth enduring - at least once, anyway.

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The Japanese bento puts the American sack lunch to shame.

​During my elementary school years, my doting mother would spend an hour-plus preparing bento for me each morning. These Japanese-style lunches were artistic masterpieces. She would first lay down a neat rectangle of rice with ripples of seaweed (that was the ocean). Then she added sausage, cut carefully at the ends into eight, splayed "legs" (the octopus inhabiting said ocean.) It was tasty, healthy, and most important, super kawaii. Come lunch time, I was always proud to pull out my elaborate bento. It was clear to me, observing my classmates' peanut butter sandwiches (not even cut into triangles!) and bruised apples that my parents loved me a lot more than theirs loved them.

The bento, of course, is a beloved tradition in Japanese cuisine. They're often prepared by mother and wives at home, but it's just as common for people in a rush pick them up at the convenience store, supermarket, or train station. I wanted Slavko to try one, but given my Japanese cooking is limited to yakisoba and tonkatsu, decided to leave the task of creating an aesthetically-pleasing bento to the Uwajimaya Gods at 600 5th Ave South.

As you can see from the above photo, they certainly design a bento with finesse, although it lacks my mother's lovely ocean-theme. This bento came with the works; broiled black cod seasoned with soy sauce, prawn tempura, fried chicken, calamari, tofu, and egg. An umeboshi (picked plum) sat atop the rice, a splash of red that made the entire meal look very much like the Japanese flag. I pointed this out with delight, Slavko asked if I would hurry up and take a photo so he could eat.

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​Mee Sum Pastry is a tiny shop in Pike Place Market that slings assorted Chinese goodies, including humbows, barbecue pork skewers, pot stickers, crab wontons, and almond cookies. They stay busy all day everyday, steaming, baking, and frying without rest to provide for the hungry tourists and residents alike that line up at the walk-up counter and block off an entire segment of the sidewalk.

The business' no. 1 seller is its barbecue pork humbow (char siu bao in Chinese), available for $2.50. These babies fly off the shelves; fresh bread buns (baked, not steamed) stuffed with slow-roasted, sweetened pig meat. Survey the Market, you're more likely to see people holding humbows than you are iPods.

Great girlfriend alert: I made a stop at Mee Sum Pastry late yesterday afternoon to pick one up up as a snack for Slavko to eat while he watched the NFL draft. Not wanting it to get cold, I tightly folded over the white paper bag it came in and just 20 minutes later, was at his apartment, delivery in hand.

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