BTS Fills Every Space On One Billboard Chart
BTS Dominates the World Digital Song Sales Chart
This week, BTS completely owns the World Digital Song Sales chart. The tally only features 10 spaces, and the septet fills all of them, not allowing any other name to appear. All 10 of the boy band's wins at the moment are brand new, as they all come from the group's newly-released album Permission to Dance On Stage (Live).
A Record-Extending No. 1 Smash
BTS earns a record-extending thirty-ninth No. 1 on the World Digital Song Sales chart, as "Permission to Dance (Live)" launches in first place. The group's latest roundup of new wins includes live renditions of some of its most famous singles, such as "On," "Black Swan," "Fake Love," and "Life Goes On." In many instances, the studio versions of those cuts also performed incredibly well on the same tally, and now the live takes — which are counted separately from the first editions — are successes in their own right.
More Than 100 Top 10 Bestsellers
Throughout the years, BTS has pushed 158 tunes to the World Digital Song Sales chart. When the group first began appearing on the roster, it featured 25 spaces, though some time ago, Billboard shortened it to just 10. The troupe has scored 127 placements within the top 10, including all 10 new arrivals this time around.
Permission to Dance On Stage (Live) also brings BTS to No. 1 on the related World Albums chart. The live set is also a top new title on both the Billboard 200 and Top Album Sales rankings as well.
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Eater
2 hours ago
- Eater
Rice Cakes Can Do Anything
is a senior reporter at covering restaurant trends, home cooking advice, and all the food you can't escape on your TikTok FYP. Previously, she worked for Bon Appétit and VICE's Munchies. In 2023, the Los Angeles izakaya Budonoki, then just a few weeks old, decided to 'dress up' as a different kind of restaurant for Halloween. For one night, the Japanese restaurant transformed into an Italian trattoria with Negroni slushes, arancini, and checkered tablecloths. Someone on staff offered the pun 'Budo-gnocchi,' recalls co-owner Eric Bedroussian. 'We were like, wait, that's actually really good.' Nobody in the kitchen had expertise in making pasta and no one had much interest in making gnocchi from scratch, so the team reached for something more convenient: Korean rice cakes, also known as tteok. Like gnocchi, rice cakes offer a bouncy chew, especially the long cylindrical rice cakes that the restaurant uses. (Tteok can also be found in flatter rounds that are sliced on the diagonal.) The team steamed the rice cakes to soften them, then seared them to create a crisp outer layer. Sauteed mushrooms, a dashi-butter pan sauce, and Parmigiano-Reggiano rounded out the pasta-like vibe. The Budo-gnocchi was 'so incredibly well-received,' Bedroussian says, that it had to become a part of the permanent menu. It hit the notes the restaurant was going for with every other dish. 'It's comforting and it fills you up if you've been drinking a lot,' he says. Once a happy accident, Budo-gnocchi has since become a signature dish at the restaurant, which was named an Eater Best New Restaurant in 2024. The dish has since evolved into a loose template, changing with the whims of the kitchen. The restaurant might upgrade it by finishing with black truffle shavings, or bringing in corn and tomatoes in the summer. 'It can be whatever we want it to be,' Bedroussian says. As Korean cuisine gains popularity across the United States, rice cakes — a popular street food — have established themselves as a promising ingredient for chefs cooking both inside and outside Korean cuisine. While you'll find them cast as other types of noodles (Sunny Lee's baked ziti-like rice cakes at New York City's Sunn's, for example, or chef Beverly Kim's tteokbokki pad Thai at Chicago's Parachute HiFi), chefs especially like the way their playful, chewy texture makes them a natural substitute for gnocchi. This idea isn't entirely novel; in a 2006 New York Times review of New York's Momofuku Ssäm Bar, Pete Wells recommended the rice cakes topped with Sichuan pork ragu and whipped tofu as 'dead ringers for gnocchi.' Chefs in Korea have been working on a similar culinary track for a little while now too. Traditionally, restaurants and street stalls generally use tteok to make tteokbokki, in which the rice cakes are simmered in sauce that's slightly sweet, spicy, and fiery red from gochujang. In recent years, they've been riffing with rosé tteokbokki, which adds cream to the typical tteokbokki base, inspired by both the Italian rosé sauce and Korean-style carbonara. 'Italian food in general has become more popular in Korea,' says bar owner and forthcoming cookbook author Irene Yoo. Given that Korean-style carbonara is made with cream and served with ham or peas, breaking from Italian tradition, rosé tteokbokki is 'an interpretation of another interpretation,' she says. The rice cakes at Sunn's are topped with mozzarella cheese. Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet/Eater NY Across the U.S., rice cakes have recently transcended pasta dishes altogether. In New York City alone, there's the culinary boundary-blurring rice cake fundido at Haenyeo; the nacho-like chopped cheese rice cakes at Nowon; rice cakes bulking up galbi bourguignon alongside potatoes at Sinsa; and blanketed with mornay sauce until they resemble gratin at Gurume. At Yoo's Orion Bar in Brooklyn, rice cakes also turn sweet, morphing into churros: deep-fried until puffy and crispy on the outside, then tossed in cinnamon sugar and served with cream cheese-makgeolli dip. 'I grew up in LA, so I definitely had a lot of churros growing up,' Yoo says. While testing deep-fried rice cakes, 'I immediately thought of that as a taste memory.' For chef Nick Wong of Houston's new 'modern Asian American diner,' Agnes and Sherman, a dish of rice cakes with beef ragu filled the slot for a 'comforting, saucy starch' on the menu, since there's no pasta. It also represents a 'kind of 'if you know, you know' situation,' he says. Wong spent years cooking at Ssäm Bar, so the dish is in part a reference to the ragu rice cakes there, though with pork in place of beef because 'it's Texas,' Wong says, and to account for Houston's Muslim population. More specific to Houston, the dish has another reference: The Korean braised goat and dumplings, also made with rice cakes, was the signature dish at Chris Shepherd's now-closed Underbelly; the dish was beloved for the way it evoked the foods of many different cultures. With a sauce featuring Korean gochujang and doenjang, West African uda pepper, and Mexican chile de árbol, Wong's rendition is emblematic of Houston, where, he says, 'it's hard to tell where one thing ends and another thing begins.' When it comes to his rice cake dish, Houstonians 'just get it,' he says. With all its iterations, Budo-gnocchi is a 'chameleon' too, Bedroussian says. For a recent collab dinner with Indian sports bar Pijja Palace — an Eater Best New Restaurant that's known for its malai rigatoni (pasta with a creamy tomato masala) — the two restaurants served malai Budo-gnocchi. It's a little bit of everything: Italian, Indian, Korean, all through the lens of an LA riff on a Japanese izakaya. Between all those influences, rice cakes are in the middle, bridging the gap. Sign up for Eater's newsletter The freshest news from the food world every day Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.
Eater
2 hours ago
- Eater
Mexican Asian Fusion Is One of North America's Signature Cuisines
In early 2009 in Los Angeles, there was no food experience more exciting than Roy Choi's Kogi truck. You'd wait in a long line in a dimly lit parking lot with a menagerie of trendy people, some of them drawn by the truck's latest Twitter post or Jonathan Gold's review in LA Weekly, others stumbling out of a nearby bar. Then you'd order too many tacos and stand next to your car to eat, perching your sagging paper trays of Korean Mexican fusion on the trunk. The truck felt new and surprising, and the big flavors demanded attention. The cheese oozing out the sides of the kimchi quesadilla rounded out the fermentation, while the salsa roja on top amplified the gochugaru. The blend of Korean and Mexican chiles in the salsa coaxed complementary flavors out of the punchy marinade on the kalbi. Funky one-off specials, like pork belly tteokbokki or the Kogi Hogi torta, constantly introduced new combinations. Leaning on the strengths of Mexican and Korean cuisines, Kogi probably would have worked if the food was only a novelty. But it also tasted definitively of Los Angeles. Choi (and his partner, Philippines-born, California-raised chef Mark Manguera) put many facets of his life into Kogi, including his training in fine dining, his rebellious spirit, and his Korean heritage, but most of all his experience growing up in LA, where Koreatown abuts several predominantly Mexican American neighborhoods. Choi's cooking prioritized innovation, but it still smacked of home. 'I think it became a voice for a certain part of Los Angeles and a certain part of immigration and a certain part of life that wasn't really out there in the universe. We all knew it, and we all grew up with it, and it was all around us, but the taco kind of pulled it together,' Choi told Terry Gross in a 2013 interview on Fresh Air. 'It was like a lint roller. It just kind of put everything onto one thing. And then when you ate it, it all of a sudden made sense, you know?' Kogi, parked in Venice, California, in 2010. Ted Soqui / Corbis / Getty Images Choi tapped into culinary histories that run deep in the American Southwest and California, where immigrants coming north from Mexico built lives alongside immigrants crossing the Pacific from Asia. (Kogi wasn't the first in the U.S. to serve food at this cultural intersection; spots like Avatar's, which has been serving Punjabi burritos in the Bay Area since 1989, are notable precursors.) But the truck marked a turning point for Mexican Asian fusion as an enduring cultural passion among interconnected communities. Over the last 16 years, Korean Mexican fusion has spread all over the country; in Portland, Oregon, and Austin, Texas, bulgogi burritos now seem as natural as coffee and chili, respectively. A legion of chefs have also popularized all kinds of Asian Mexican fusion, serving birria ramen, halal carne asada, and furikake esquites. Years before the term 'chaos cooking' entered the conversation, these restaurants created cuisine that was fun and different, blending foods from distinct cultures in ways that make emotional sense, even when they sound far out on paper. And chefs keep finding new ways to capture how Mexican and Asian foods crisscross in the U.S. and in diners' hearts. Asian immigrants have been forming communities in Mexico, from the La Chinesca neighborhood of Mexicali to Mexico City's Pequeño Seúl, for decades or in some cases centuries. Chefs in these areas naturally adapted their cuisines to local ingredients and dishes; in the process, they started unpacking some of the natural affinities across cuisines that would grease the wheels of fusion projects well into the future. To Cesar Hernandez, associate restaurant critic at the San Francisco Chronicle and a street food aficionado, it makes sense that items like tacos and burritos became go-to formats for fusion cooking over the years. 'They truly are blank canvases for whatever. They play well with other flavors,' he says. Hernandez also points to the common ingredients that unite Asian and Mexican cuisines. 'A lot of these cuisines love citrus. A lot of these cuisines love chiles. And when you can coax those flavors out with the other cuisines, that's when it really works.' For Rhea Patel Michel of Mexican Indian fusion restaurant Saucy Chick in Pasadena, California, the connection between these foodways is elemental. Her background is Gujarati Indian, and her husband Marcel Rene Michel is Mexican American. In combining their cuisines, they found a natural synergy in ingredients like cumin, citrus, rice, and legumes, but they also discovered a connectivity of spirit. 'It's generous, it's vibrant, it's dynamic, and we were really energized by what it could look like,' to bring their food together, Patel Michel says. The Picoso Roll at the Sushi-lito food truck in Tucson. Nick Oza/Eater When chefs in historic Asian communities in Mexico couldn't get access to ingredients from back home, they often developed fusion dishes out of necessity. But the clearest progenitor for many contemporary projects might be Sinaloan sushi, created in Culiacán, Mexico, not out of necessity but creative conversation within the restaurant community. Japanese immigrants to the area, in Mexico's Sinaloa state, started opening sushi restaurants around the late 1980s, often hiring Mexican chefs. But it wasn't until those chefs left to open their own spots, bringing their own ideas and style to sushi — and building on recent sushi inventions from the north, like the California roll — that the genre really developed its modern personality. One foundational operation, Sushi-Lo, brought sushi out to the streets in a cart, and introduced the modern classic, deep-fried mar y tierra (surf and turf) roll filled with carne asada and shrimp. Today, Sinaloan spots both in Mexico and the U.S., like Culichi Town, tend towards extravagance, incorporating aguachile, plantain, beans, melted cheese, jalapeños, or Hot Cheeto dust. And the cuisine only went further when it jumped from Sinaloa to neighboring Sonoroa, edging its way toward the U.S. 'Sonoran-style specialists are more like sushi bars attached to a Wingstop,' writes Bill Esparza, 'with menus touting fried chicken wings and fried potatoes covered in melted cheese alongside the calorie-rich sushi.' Alongside Culichi Town — which has 12 locations in the U.S., including in Dallas and Las Vegas — Sonoran sushi can be found all over the American West, but it especially thrives in Tucson, alongside terroir-defying, cross-cultural icons like the bacon-wrapped Sonoran dog. Unlike contemporary fusion restaurants of the '80s and '90s that became reviled for carelessly throwing together half-assed hybrid dishes and wearing culture as costume, the impetus for Sinaloan and Sonoran sushi wasn't colonial. Even as chefs tended toward monchoso, a sort of thrilling overindulgence, their fusion remained rooted in mutual respect and open collaboration. Neither culture was being absorbed or assimilated, trod on or lifted over the other. 'Mexican food is not fucking precious,' Hernandez says. 'People in Mexico are the first to break the rules. It's part of the tradition.' Roy Choi at work at his latest project, Taco Por Vida, in 2024. Rebecca Roland/Eater That spirit has persisted in Kogi and the projects that followed, even as restaurants spread beyond the Southwest, more Asian cuisines entered the conversation, and chefs developed all kinds of fusion. Almost immediately following Choi's success, chef Bo Kwon created Koi Fusion in Portland, Oregon, in 2009, bringing Pacific Northwest style, a lighter touch on sauces, and an eye for local vegetables to the cuisine. In 2010, Señor Sisig launched as a Filipino Mexican food truck with sisig burritos and tacos, citing Kogi as major inspiration. That same year, the Korilla food truck in New York pushed rice bowls alongside tacos and burritos, drawing winding lines and mostly stellar reviews. Along the way through the many mid-2010s pivots at Mission Cantina in New York, chef Danny Bowien served Mexican kimchi, avocado sashimi, and a Chinese burrito special featuring mapo tofu or kung pao pastrami. More recently, Taqueria Azteca in New York rolled out phở birria, Phở Vy in Oakland, California, unveiled bò kho quesabirria tacos, and Baysian in nearby San Leandro whipped up Filipino queso-adobo. Back in LA, Holy Basil offers Thai-style prawn aguachile, while New York-born Baar Baar serves birria-influenced tacos with Kashmiri duck and tostadas with tuna bhel. Hernandez is especially excited about chef Sincere Justice's Tacos Sincero pop-up, born in Oakland in 2022. The chef draws on his experience growing up in LA's San Gabriel Valley (which has large Mexican and Asian American populations) to create eclectic dishes like a konbini-style egg salad tostada, calamansi tinga, and a saag burrito. '[Justice is] a real student of 'I want to try different shit and present it in these formats,' using tortillas and tostadas,' Hernandez says. 'He and a couple other folks are keeping that [multicultural cooking] alive.' All of it is constantly evolving, even within individual restaurants. At Saucy Chick, the Michels are always creating new dishes, like birria de chivo that incorporates masala spices, halal carne asada marinated in amchur and coriander, and esquites amped up with fenugreek and turmeric. Along the way, something surprising has happened during all this R and D. '[I've been] digging deep with my mom and my dad, [asking,] 'How do we make this dal?' or 'How do we make aloo?'' Rhea says. 'I've found myself getting even closer to my culture.' 'Kogi came at that right moment,' Choi told Mashed in 2020. In the midst of the Great Recession, the truck offered accessible, boundary-pushing cooking. 'People couldn't afford to go out all the time. People were struggling, lost their jobs, looking for what their next meal could be. And then this funny little beat-up truck came along, serving this delicious little taco.' The team's creativity and hustle helped them nail the tenor of the early social media era. During Twitter's ascendance, the Kogi team tweeted their locations and specials in real time as the truck rolled around town, drawing mobs of fans wherever they went. 'It felt like a scavenger hunt when we needed some sort of positive direction,' Choi told Mashed. Online appeal has remained an important piece of Mexican Asian fusion, clear in dishes like birria ramen (or 'birriamen'). Generally said to have been invented by chef Antonio de Livier at the Mexico City restaurant Animo, birriamen builds on the internet popularity of the Tijuana-style stewed beef dish. It might be made with instant noodles or higher-grade stuff, ramen broth or consomé, stuffed into tacos or piled onto vampiros — but in almost every case, it's big and bold and attention-grabbing, making it ideal for social media feeds. Aguachile at Holy Basil in LA Wonho Frank Lee/Eater But in other ways, Mexican Asian fusion no longer resembles Kogi's scrappy street food operation, especially when it starts climbing into fine dining territory. At Michelin-starred Los Félix in Miami, the tétela is filled with Japanese sweet potato, the esquites get a hit of basil furikake, there's miso-grilled corn with fish, and corn dumplings come with scallions and trout roe. Anajak Thai Cuisine's Thai Taco Tuesday, a pandemic-born lark, grew into a signature experience; dishes like a carnitas taco and a sashimi-style yellowtail tostada with nam jim-salsa negra marisquera topped with papaya salad powered the restaurant to national acclaim. Today, fusion dishes show up at restaurants that are nominally neither Mexican nor Asian. Birria dumplings appear on the ever-changing menu at San Francisco icon State Bird Provisions, while Chicago restaurant Mfk serves suzuki crudo on a tostada with both guacamole and sambal. This cuisine is everywhere now. It's not uncommon to see culinary combinations at an airport, the Taco Bell Test Kitchen, or floating up beneath the gaze of social media's Eye of Sauron. It has been in the mainstream for more than 20 years, practically forever in the modern food era, fully engrained into the way we eat. Alongside other types of third-culture cooking, Mexican Asian cuisine has largely shed the stigma that fusion picked up in the '90s. Chefs once chafed if their food was labeled fusion. Now, the pendulum has largely swung back. For Hernandez, it's a generational thing; the old distaste has fallen by the wayside as new chefs and new diners have come into maturity. 'Fusion' is just a convenient shorthand for what so many are doing: transforming culinary building blocks, wherever they come from, to create something new — and awesome — from the parts. Hernandez brings it back to a conversation with Justice of Tacos Sincero. As much as the chef's food reflects his upbringing, the specific labels just aren't important anymore. 'Whatever people want to call it, it doesn't matter,' Hernandez says. 'It just has to bang.'
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
Park Chan-wook's ‘No Other Choice,' Starring Lee Byung-hun, to Open Busan Film Festival
Arguably, there was no other choice…. The Busan International Film Festival has selected the latest wildly anticipated feature from Korean maestro Park Chan-wook to open its landmark 30th edition on Sept. 17. A black-comedy survival thriller starring Korean leading man Lee Byung-hun, Park's 12th feature, No Other Choice, will have its world premiere in competition at the 82nd Venice Film Festival before heading to Korea's biggest cinema event for its Asian debut. No Other Choice stars Lee and beloved Korean actress Son Ye-jin as a married couple struggling to hold their family together amid mounting economic desperation. The film follows Man-su (Lee), a once-content middle-class family man who is abruptly laid off from his job, sending him into a spiral of anxiety and desperation. As he scrambles to regain employment and preserve the life he's built, his wife Miri (Son) becomes equally determined to protect their children and home at any cost. More from The Hollywood Reporter 'The Seasons' Is an "Archaeological Film" Uncovering Tales and "Shared History" (Exclusive Trailer) Blue Ant Media to Go Public After Completing Reverse Takeover 'The Office' Alum Anthony Q. Farrell Boards Cricket Comedy 'Strikers' as Showrunner (Exclusive) The project reunites Park with various longtime collaborators and introduces a fresh pairing in its leads — marking the first time Lee and Son, two of Korea's most celebrated stars, have appeared as a couple onscreen. The supporting cast includes Park Hee-soon, Lee Sung-min, Yeom Hye-ran and Cha Seung-won. No Other Choice is based on Donald E. Westlake's novel The Ax, which was previously adapted to the screen in French by Costa-Gavras. Park first teased the project during a public appearance at BIFF in 2019, describing it as a long-in-the-making passion project he hoped would come to be seen as his 'masterpiece.' The director's many fans are anticipating his signature blend of muscular craftsmanship, elegant mise-en-scène, psychological intensity and moral ambiguity. 'I am deeply moved and excited to experience the premiere of Park Chan-wook's desired project alongside diverse audiences on the festival's opening day,' said BIFF festival director Jung Hanseok in a statement. 'I sincerely hope that its selection will build meaningful momentum to garner greater attention and foster renewed interest in Korean cinema.' The selection of No Other Choice underscores BIFF's efforts to champion the vibrancy and global reach of contemporary Korean filmmaking during its landmark 30th anniversary edition, organizers say. The festival runs Sept. 17–26 in the southern port city of Busan. No Other Choice is Park's first directorial effort since 2022's Decision to Leave, which won him the best director prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Neon has acquired North American distribution rights to the new film. A major awards season push is expected from the hit-making distributor after its breakthrough success with Bong Joon Ho's Parasite. Best of The Hollywood Reporter The 25 Best U.S. Film Schools in 2025 The 40 Greatest Needle Drops in Film History The 40 Best Films About the Immigrant Experience Solve the daily Crossword
