“Except for the fact that we’re here, this restaurant could be in Korea,” observed my sensible, midwestern mother-in-law as she peered around the bustling, majestically situated dining room at Gaonnuri, which opened several weeks back on the 39th floor of 1250 Broadway, overlooking Koreatown and Herald Square. My mother-in-law has never been to Korea, as it happens. As far as I know, she had never been to a Korean restaurant before. She does not know what kimchee is, and if she did, she’d probably seal it in a Tupperware container and confine it to the nearest hazmat bin. My mother-in-law has never experienced the glories of mandoo dumplings or sweet japchae noodles or bibimbap. She isn’t a fan of red meat, or barbecue in general, and on the rare occasion that she does order a steak back home in the suburbs of Detroit, she instructs the kitchen to broil it at such a high heat that the end product has to be cut with the proverbial hacksaw.