For a long time, I’ve been buying linguine, thinking it was my favorite pasta shape. But yesterday, as the supermarket was out of linguine, I picked up spaghettini instead, and was quite pleased by the perfectly al dente results. Logically, I realized, round pastas (like spaghettini or spaghetti) are more likely to turn out al dente than flattened linguine-esque shapes; the center of a round pasta is equidistant from each boiled edge, avoiding linguine’s frequent problem of overcooked far (oblong) edges.

Time to stock up on spaghetti, then. And on penne, which also happens to be a very fine pasta shape.

Head over to Fat-guy.com’s Guerilla Sushi Guide. The tubby culinary guru knows of what he speaks.

Here’s the scoop: While the plebeian believe Nobu has New York’s best sushi, any purist will poo-poo the idea. Like Japanese Raku earthenware, Sushi is an art form that has evolved over hundreds of years to a deceptive simplicity. Tossing in a bit of Peruvian ‘flair’ is a bit like painting a Raku vase in pastels – interesting and perhaps oddly enjoyable, but certainly not the genuine article.

True sushi connoisseurs often cite Kuruma Zushi as the city’s best, or perhaps Tsukiji Sushisay, which requires all of its chefs to train for a minimum of five years in the Tokyo branch before coming to prepare sushi here in the New York restaurant. Certainly, both are exceedingly good. Yet a relatively-undiscovered newcomer has thrown down the gauntlet. I suspect that, within the year, Sushi Yasuda will be broadly recognized as New York’s sushi king.

Chef Maomichi Yasuda, of Hatsuhana lineage, starts with one of the city’s widest assortments of extremely fresh fish. He then serves up slightly smaller than average pieces that literally melt in your mouth. (Nota bene: Along with the flawless sushi, make sure to try the nameko (mushroom) miso to start and certainly don’t miss the green tea mochi ice cream for desert.) The perfection is in the details: the chefs vary the size of the sushi pieces according to the size of diners’ mouths, and a different type of tea is served with each course. Topping it off, the minimalist blond wood decor elegantly reflects the simple perfection of the sushi itself. The place is small and increasingly popular, however, so make sure to book in advance (or, if you know Japanese, take my approach and kiss up to the Maitre D’).

Sushi Yasuda. 43rd between Second and Third. (212) 972-1001. Book now, thank me later.

The secret to enjoying a hot dog is avoiding over-thinking. You don’t actually know exactly what a hot dog is made of, and you’re probably better off that way. A bit of consideration, and your imagination is running wild: Just what sort of meat is ground up, died pink and stuffed into a little tube, anyway? And what exactly is that “skin?”

Yet, fillers and preservatives aside, the hot dog is genuine Americana: inextricably linked to our national pastime, the centerpiece of any backyard barbeque, not quite as American as apple pie, but a whole hell of a lot better with beer. And, here in Gotham City, the raison d’etre of another fine establishment: the hot dog cart.

For years, I’ve been fascinated by hot dog carts, perhaps owing to childhood impressionability. In fact, over the last few weeks, I’ve even been working on a series of hot dog vendor portraits. So I was particularly thrilled to discover All American Hot Dog Carts, the one stop super-shop for all your hot dog cart needs. These guys really are at the top of their game – they’re authorized distributors for both Sabrett and Hebrew National. Sure, I may not need a new cart at the moment. But if the corporate life ever gets old, I know just where to turn.