Chicken Yakitori

Late July and I am turning thirty-four next week. The yakudoshi year is almost over. I survived it. Fumiko said to be careful. I was careful. I was careful with the recipes, with the translations, with the grief, with the writing. I was not careful with the marriage, because the marriage does not respond to care the way a recipe does — you cannot add more dashi to a marriage and make it taste better. You cannot follow a card. There is no card. There are two people who used to fit and who now do not, and the not-fitting is nobody's fault and everybody's problem.

I made Fumiko's summer chirashi for my pre-birthday dinner — the scattered sushi with the best fish from Uwajimaya, arranged in the ceramic bowl that Fumiko gave me the year I moved to Portland, the bowl that started the collection, the bowl that predates the grief, the bowl that is just a bowl and also everything. The chirashi was beautiful. The photography was beautiful. The blog post was beautiful. The evening was quiet because Brian was at a work event and Miya was in bed and the beauty was consumed by a single woman at a kitchen table, which is not sad. Which is, actually, a form of luxury. The luxury of enjoying your own cooking without performance, without sharing, without the obligation to describe or praise or respond. I ate the chirashi. I said nothing. The nothing was the best part of the meal.

Miya's preschool had a summer picnic this week. I made bento boxes for her class — twenty of them, each with onigiri, tamagoyaki, edamame, and fruit. The teacher asked me to explain what onigiri is. I said, "Rice shaped with love," which is not a culinary explanation but is an accurate one. The children ate them. Most of them said they were good. One boy said, "This is just rice," which was technically correct and aesthetically devastating. Miya told him, "It is Obaachan rice," which silenced him, not because he understood the reference but because Miya said it with such authority that disagreement seemed unwise. My daughter is defending my grandmother's rice to preschoolers. The chain does not merely hold. The chain fights back.

The week I made twenty bento boxes for strangers’ children and was told by a four-year-old that it was “just rice,” I decided the next meal I cooked was going to be unapologetically for people who wanted it — starting with my own daughter, who has already learned to defend her great-grandmother’s food with the conviction of someone who has tasted something worth defending. Chicken yakitori felt right: skewers you can hand to a small person, a sweet-salty tare glaze that rewards patience, something recognizable enough to share and Japanese enough to feel like home. It is not chirashi. It is not bento. It is what comes after both — the weeknight meal that asks nothing of you except that you show up at the grill.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus 30 min marinating) | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
6 green onions, cut into 1-inch pieces
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup mirin
2 tablespoons sake (or dry sherry)
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
Toasted sesame seeds, for garnish
Bamboo or metal skewers (if bamboo, soaked in water 30 minutes)

Instructions

Make the tare. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine soy sauce, mirin, sake, and sugar. Stir until sugar dissolves, then simmer 5–7 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly and coats a spoon. Remove from heat and stir in garlic and ginger. Reserve half the sauce for basting; use the other half for marinating.
Marinate the chicken. Place chicken pieces in a shallow bowl or zip-top bag. Pour the marinating half of the tare over the chicken, toss to coat, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes (up to 2 hours for deeper flavor).
Skewer. Thread chicken pieces onto skewers, alternating with pieces of green onion. Aim for 3–4 pieces of chicken per skewer. Brush lightly with sesame oil.
Grill. Heat a grill or grill pan to medium-high heat. Lightly oil the grates. Grill skewers 3–4 minutes per side, basting with reserved tare sauce during the final 2 minutes of cooking on each side, until chicken is cooked through and edges are lightly caramelized.
Rest and garnish. Remove skewers from heat and let rest 2 minutes. Arrange on a platter, drizzle with any remaining tare, and finish with a generous pinch of toasted sesame seeds. Serve with steamed short-grain rice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Yakitori — The Quiet Luxury of Feeding People Who Actually Want to Be Fed