Teriyaki Fried Chicken

Every half-decent Asian meal starts with rice. I use short-grain rice and let my ride-or-die Zojirushi rice cooker handle the magic. At around $300, this is probably one of the best kitchen gadgets you can buy (it’s well worth the money). This thing’s been with me for over a decade, and unlike the Caitlin Jenner, it hasn’t changed a damn thing about itself and still performs like a champ.

Make sure to rinse the rice, load it up with water, hit start, and in about a hour — fluffy perfection. No fuss.

Now, traditional teriyaki calls for mirin, but I went rogue and used Japanese whisky — mostly because I forgot to buy mirin and really thought I need a booze-y element.

Toss in soy sauce, water, brown sugar, and a lazy-person spice mix (garlic powder, ginger powder, white pepper — the holy trinity of “I can’t be arsed to chop anything”). Sometimes when you are trying to make a smooth sauce, the powdered version is just easier. Alternatively, you can chop up fresh ginger or garlic and infuse them into the sauce. Once cooked, add your water and cornstarch slurry and stir until it shines like Kim Kardashian’s ass in a magazine spread.

Cut your bok choy and carrots into non-choking-hazard chunks. Here is a pro tip: blanch the bok choy and ice-bath it so it doesn’t taste like you licked a garden. This will cut out the bitterness.

Then hit your pan with oil, fry the veggies until they’ve got those sexy, golden edges, and hit them with garlic, salt, sugar, and MSG. Yes — MSG. It makes everything taste like you know what the hell you’re doing.

Another cornstarch and water slurry moment here makes the veggies glossy and saucy.

Today’s victim: bone-in chicken thighs. Step one: dry them like you’re prepping them for a hot date. Moisture = oil fire = goodbye eyebrows.

Sprinkle with salt, garlic powder, and a generous cornstarch massage. Then into the hot oil they go for at least 20 minutes. You want golden skin, not medium-rare poultry roulette.

I even made this exact meal the next night — because I had leftover thighs silently judging me from the fridge like my Asian parents when I told them I wanted to be a YouTuber.

Here’s a pro tip: I made this dish again the following day and I deboned those sexy thighs. It makes for faster and more consistent cooking. Giving me extra time for a double-fry! The first fry draws moisture out. The second fry? That gives you crust so crispy, it should come with a warning label. Think: “Khloé Kardashian’s face post-filter” level of crisp.

So… is this my final form? Probably not. Maybe I’ll evolve into some a Michelin-star wannabe. But for now? This is me. A chaotic kitchen gremlin telling bad jokes and attempting to make great food.

If you’re into that kind of energy — stick around. It only gets weirder from here.