We go this month in search of spicy food, and our first stop need be no further than Japan's next-door neighbor. Why Korea--which received its first chilies via Japan--built a cuisine around a family of flavors mainly ignored here is a matter of some historical interest. But let's eat.

The "Korean izakaya" Dondonju prides itself on serving the food and drink you'd find on a Korean family's table. Tokyo has long had obscure little restaurants that do this. But for a place this big, public and stylish to offer sochan (spicy beef intestine stew) and yan (grilled beef stomach) and usoru (this same poor animal's tongue), well, the times they are a-changing.

Just to get the disappointment out of the way: don't bother with the kalbi, a plate of stingy slices of meat and bone. Look rather to the chijimi, a Korean-style okonomiyaki "omelet" that's as good as you'll find in Japan. Or the bosamu, a dish of steamed pork and Chinese cabbage with a memorable hot sauce garnish. Heat seekers should also check out the various spicy tofu dishes and of course the whole range of kimchi. To cool you down they have good draft beer, saké, and Jinro ginseng liquor, but the house beverage is (no surprise) "Dondonju," their word for makkoli, Korea's ambrosial rice beer. You're given a choice of karakuchi "dry" and more common "sweet" amakuchi versions. The photo menu will lead you to other discoveries, although even Japanese readers may be baffled by the obtuse descriptions. Portions are smallish and prices all in the Y300-Y980 range. The mood is relaxed, with long wooden tables and benches, monochrome decor, a high ceiling and more open space than seems forgivable in downtown Tokyo. These people are clearly not paying rent.

In a city besieged with new "eclectic" izakaya, it's reassuring to find one that features not a synthetic fantasy, but a true ethnic cuisine. A nitpicker could make the same criticism here that I'm always making about Japan's European restaurants: a kind of unnecessary precision, a pervasive desire to make things tinier and cuter and more disciplined than they need to be. Japan's diners, for better or worse, still prefer it that way. Given that nothing quite like Dondonju has ever existed before in Tokyo, don't worry too much about this. Go, eat, drink and be fortified with chilies.

P.S. Next door to Dondonju and run by the same folks is a fast-food shop that at first glance looks like another gyudon ("beef bowl") place. Take a closer look at the sign (or your dish): that's yaki bibimba, the Korean meal-in-a-bowl of rice with sizzling barbecued meat, vegetables, and spicy sweet miso. Highly recommended for a hearty snack anytime you're crisscrossing the city and find yourself in the Akasaka/Kokkaigijido-mae area.

Goa

3-24-3 Jingu-mae, Shibuya-ku

Tel: 3402-7370

Open: 11:30am-2pm & 5-11pm; Sun., noon-9pm; closed Mon.

Average check for two: Y4000

Burma, Thailand, and Laos all serve up hotter specialty foods, but for day-in, day-out spiciness, the Indian subcontinent can still bring tears to the eyes. Not that you'd know it from Tokyo's big, popular Mogul-style eateries. Tasty food, yes, but apart from a couple of exceptions (like Raj Palace, 3780-6531), hot they're not. So our first question when stumbling onto a new Indian restaurant is: how willing are they to crank up the heat?

In this case our subject is the café-style Goa, which sits geographically and stylistically halfway between Harajuku's two older Indian places, Moti-wannabe Jamuna (3402-0701), and bohemian Indian pioneer Ghee (3401-4023). Goa, however, does better food than either. The menu shows a notable lack of Goanese dishes--never take the name of an "ethnic" restaurant at face value in Japan--but almost all of the northern Indian favorites are here. Particularly promising on the spice front was "katei-fu hot chicken curry." Katei-fuu ("home style") is another term that can mean next to nothing, but just occasionally it's code for "OK, now we'll take off the gloves and do it right." This one was fairly genuine, with that satisfying slow burn unique to good curry. Yes, it would have been at least twice as spicy back in its homeland, but it was headed in the right direction. Probably a couple of trips back and a chat with the chef would do the trick. The tandoori dishes (chicken reshmi kabab, prawn tandoori, etc.) seemed even more self-assured, and the breads approached downright brilliance. Even the common nan here is soft and buttery, nothing at all like the dry, oversized, bone-white objet served at too many places. They do a whole bunch of other varieties too, but the pride of the house is the garlic cheese kulcha.

Rajput

4-13-12 Takadanobaba, Shinjuku-ku

Tel: 3360-8372

Open: Noon-3pm & 5-9:30pm; hol., 5-9:30pm; closed Mon.

Average check for two: Y4000

By now we were in an Indian trance, determined to find the full-strength, fire-breathing curry of our dreams. Rumor and chili-scented whispers led us to Rajput, a no-frills Pakistani joint just outside the loop on Waseda-dori.

Hussein gives his curries their body by reducing large amounts of vegetables down to a soft, thick compote. Then in go the spices and the meats. This results in a base of subtle, slightly caramelized vegetable flavors overlaid with a napalm burn. It's a distinctive Pakistani village style that relies neither on butter nor salt, so it might take a little getting used to. I hesitate to call it "healthy" if only because it's still incredibly rich (even the nan and other breads here are extra dense and filling) and because portions are so generous that everyone leaves with bulging bellies. Most people order chicken or mutton curries, or else go vegetarian with dishes built around things like chick peas and lentils. The one mandatory order is the karai, an explosive Pakistani/Afghani chicken stew that confusingly but accurately shares its name with the Japanese word for "spicy hot."

And that brings us back to our theme. Rajput will cook almost any dish to 10 levels of heat: three increasingly sweet "minus" ratings, and seven "plus" ratings. Note the numerology: seven, as in steps to heaven, circles of hell, etc. From zero the descriptions rise up through "hot" and "very hot" to "very very hot" and finally--religious revelation--"Muslim hot." Anyone who finds Rajput's Muslim hot inadequate should probably see a doctor.

TIDBITS

Cosmopolitan Curiosities
The city's best one-stop shop for obscure salsas, bulk-pack frozen tortillas, rare Asian spices, discount European delicacies and other edible exotica? Try Hakurai Shokuhin-kan, a.k.a. "World Import Foods Shop," on the corner of Meiji-dori and Omotesando-dori at 6-4-1 Jingu-mae, Shibuya-ku (3797-0938).

Wine o' the month: 1992 Frey Petite Sirah
House red at your columnist's house, and everyone begs to know how to get it. OK, what the heck: call importer Mitoku (3201-6701) and ask where it's sold near you. It's massively grapey, intensely fresh and absurdly affordable for Japan at Y1000. Pretty user-friendly too, thanks to organically grown grapes and zero added sulfites.