Christmas week. Brian's family descends on Portland like a warm, loud, beer-bearing avalanche. Eileen and Patrick drive up from Tigard. Brian's brother Sean and his wife come from Seattle with their two kids. The Callahan Christmas is a production — matching pajamas, competitive gift-wrapping, a Secret Santa that somehow involves more drama than a reality show. I participate with the energy of a diplomat visiting a friendly but bewildering foreign country.
Eileen asked me to bring "something Japanese" for Christmas Eve dinner, which I appreciate because it means she has accepted that I come with a cuisine attached and that the cuisine is welcome at the table. I made Japanese fried chicken — karaage — which is the gateway drug of Japanese cooking, the dish that converts skeptics, the food that makes people say, "Wait, this is Japanese?" Marinated in soy sauce, sake, ginger, and garlic, coated in potato starch, fried until shatteringly crispy. I made five pounds of it and it disappeared in twenty minutes. Patrick ate most of it. The Callahans have adopted karaage the way they adopted onigiri: completely, enthusiastically, without reservation.
Miya's first Christmas morning: wrapping paper everywhere, Brian filming, Miya more interested in the paper than the gifts, which is the universal truth of babies and presents. Brian gave me a necklace, which was sweet and not what I asked for but I wore it and smiled because marriage is an ongoing exercise in receiving what is given instead of what is wanted. I gave Brian a book about the history of beer in the Pacific Northwest, which he was genuinely excited about, because knowing your partner's interests and honoring them is the easy part of love. It is the hard parts that are hard.
I called Fumiko on Christmas Day. She does not celebrate Christmas but she answered the phone and said, "Merry Christmas, Jennifer," in a formal tone that suggested she was reading from a card. She asked what I cooked. I told her about the karaage. She said, "Did you use potato starch or cornstarch?" I said potato starch. She said, "Good." This is approval. This is the Fumiko standing ovation. I will carry it for weeks.
After the Callahan chaos, after the wrapping paper and the noise and the beer and the matching pajamas, I sat alone in the kitchen at eleven PM and made miso soup. Just for me. The quiet after the noise. The ritual after the celebration. The self after the performance. I drank it from the chipped ceramic bowl and thought: both things are real. The loud Christmas and the quiet soup. I live in both. I always will.
The karaage that vanished in twenty minutes at the Callahan Christmas taught me something I already knew but keep needing to confirm: crispy, boldly seasoned chicken is a universal language. If you want to bring that same energy to your own table — the kind where people hover near the serving dish and someone definitely eats too much — this Fabulous Orange Chicken is where I’d start. It has that same shattering crunch and deeply savory-sweet sauce that makes skeptics lean in and say, “Wait, can I have more of that?” Consider it the dish you bring when you need something that disappears fast and earns the quiet, two-word approval that means everything.
Fabulous Orange Chicken
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4–6
Ingredients
- 2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1/2 cup cornstarch
- 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp kosher salt
- 1/2 tsp black pepper
- 2 large eggs, beaten
- Neutral oil, for frying (vegetable or canola)
- 1 cup fresh orange juice (from about 3 oranges)
- 2 tbsp orange zest
- 3 tbsp soy sauce
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 2 tbsp rice vinegar
- 1 tbsp cornstarch (for the sauce)
- 1 tsp sesame oil
- 3 cloves garlic, finely minced
- 1 tsp fresh ginger, grated
- 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
- Sliced green onions and sesame seeds, for garnish
- Steamed white rice, for serving
Instructions
- Mix the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the orange juice, orange zest, soy sauce, sugar, rice vinegar, 1 tbsp cornstarch, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes (if using). Set aside.
- Coat the chicken. In a shallow bowl, combine the 1/2 cup cornstarch, flour, salt, and pepper. Working in batches, dip chicken pieces into the beaten eggs, then dredge in the cornstarch-flour mixture, pressing to adhere.
- Fry the chicken. Pour about 2 inches of oil into a large, heavy skillet or wok and heat to 375°F. Fry the chicken in batches — do not crowd the pan — for 3–4 minutes per batch, until deep golden and crispy. Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate to drain.
- Build the sauce. Discard the frying oil and wipe out the skillet. Over medium heat, pour in the orange sauce mixture. Stir constantly and cook for 2–3 minutes until the sauce thickens and turns glossy.
- Toss and finish. Add the fried chicken back into the pan and toss to coat evenly in the sauce. Cook for 1–2 minutes more so the sauce clings to each piece.
- Serve immediately. Spoon over steamed rice and top with sliced green onions and sesame seeds. Serve hot — it does not last long.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 430 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 710mg