A single slice of gimbap standing on end on a wooden board, photographed in macro, whose cut face is a cross-section of an apartment building. The seaweed wrapper is the outer wall, the ring of rice is the corridor slab, and the fillings inside are read as rooms: the yellow pickled radish strip becomes a lit hallway, the egg strip a kitchen with a tiny table, the carrot a child's room, the spinach a balcony thick with plants, the burdock a stairwell running through. Tiny figures 3mm tall inhabit them — one at a window, one carrying a box up the stair, laundry strung across one opening. Each room is lit from inside with warm points of light. Everything else about the gimbap is real food: glossy rice grains, sesame seeds, slightly torn seaweed at the edge, oil sheen, a few grains fallen on the board. Real photographic macro, shallow depth of field, the cut face sharp. The food is the architecture. No real company logo, no real brand name.