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Chicken Sausage Patties — Small Enough for Three-Year-Old Hands

Late April. A month of lockdown. I have cooked ninety meals in this kitchen in thirty days and each one has been a small defiance — a refusal to eat cereal, a refusal to surrender to the formlessness of pandemic life, a refusal to let the days blur into a paste of sweatpants and streaming and despair. The cooking is the structure. The cooking is the spine of the day. Without the cooking, the day is a jellyfish — shapeless, drifting, at the mercy of whatever current pushes it.

I made Japanese Hamburg steak — the ground meat patties that are Japanese yoshoku comfort food, served with a demi-glace-style sauce and rice and salad. Fumiko did not make Hamburg steak — it was too Western for her sensibility — but I make it because Miya loves it, because the patties are small enough for three-year-old hands, because the sauce is sweet and rich and the kind of food that makes a child say "again" and the again is the highest compliment a three-year-old can pay.

Brian and I have found a quarantine equilibrium that works by maintaining maximum distance in minimum space. He stays in the bedroom. I stay in the kitchen and living room. Miya moves between us like a diplomat between nations, carrying messages: "Daddy says he's hungry." "Mama says dinner is ready." The diplomacy is natural to her — she has been navigating between her parents her whole life, which is three years, which is too long to have been doing this. Children should not be diplomats. Children should be children. The fact that my child is a diplomat is evidence that I am failing at something, and the something is the marriage, and the failure is not something I can fix from inside the marriage. The fixing requires leaving. The leaving requires courage. The courage is coming. It is slow and it is certain and it tastes like January miso soup — the good kind, the kind that is finally right after years of being almost right.

The Instagram yoga classes have a following — two hundred people watch regularly. I teach from the living room, Miya occasionally wandering into the frame, which the viewers love and I find both charming and exhausting. "Your daughter is so cute!" they comment. She is. She is also the reason I am awake at five AM doing yoga before she wakes, because the practice requires silence and children do not provide silence. The practice holds. The practice always holds. Even in a pandemic. Even in a dying marriage. The mat is rolled out. The breath continues. The mat does not care about the virus. The breath does not care about Brian. The practice is the practice is the practice.

The Hamburg steak I made for Miya during those thirty days of lockdown cooking was never really about the recipe—it was about the ritual of putting something small and golden and finished on her plate and watching her say “again.” These chicken sausage patties carry that same spirit: seasoned simply, sized right for little hands, pan-seared until the edges catch and the inside stays tender. When courage is still gathering itself and the day needs a spine, this is the recipe that provides one.

Chicken Sausage Patties

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 4 (about 8 small patties)

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground chicken
  • 1 teaspoon soy sauce
  • 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 tablespoon neutral oil (avocado or grapeseed), for the pan
  • Steamed short-grain rice and simple green salad, to serve

Instructions

  1. Mix the patties. In a medium bowl, combine the ground chicken, soy sauce, Worcestershire, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, ginger, salt, and pepper. Mix gently with your hands until just combined—do not overwork the meat or the patties will be dense.
  2. Shape. Divide the mixture into 8 equal portions and press each into a flat round patty about 1/2-inch thick. Slightly smaller patties cook more evenly and are perfect for small hands at the table.
  3. Heat the pan. Warm the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Lay the patties in the pan without crowding—work in batches if needed.
  4. Cook the first side. Cook undisturbed for 4 to 5 minutes until a deep golden crust forms on the bottom. Resist the urge to press or move them.
  5. Flip and finish. Flip each patty once and cook for another 4 to 5 minutes, until cooked through (internal temperature of 165°F). The edges should be set and the surface lightly glazed.
  6. Rest and serve. Transfer patties to a plate and let rest 2 minutes. Serve over steamed rice with a simple salad alongside. For a richer yoshoku-style finish, spoon a little warmed ketchup and Worcestershire mixture over the top as a quick pan sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 23g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 390mg

Jen Nakamura
About the cook who shared this
Jen Nakamura
Week 206 of Jen’s 30-year story · Portland, Oregon
Jen is a forty-year-old yoga instructor and divorced mom in Portland who traded panic attacks for plants and never looked back. She's Japanese-American on her father's side — third-generation, with a family history that includes wartime internment and generational silence — and white on her mother's. Her cooking is plant-forward, intuitive, and deeply influenced by both her Japanese grandmother's techniques and the Pacific Northwest farmers market she visits every Saturday rain or shine. Which in Portland means mostly rain.

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