Japanese Style Fried Chicken

On my first trip to Boston to visit a high school friend, her group of friends took us to a Chinese/Japanese restaurant and urged me to try the "aged dofu". Although they assumed that I would know what this was, I had no idea. My thoughts flitted to the infamous "stinky tofu" I had once heard of, a fermented soy dish rumored to meet its rather illustrious name with a vengeance. I was apprehensive, but they were getting one for the table and before I could say anything the orders were taken. Sticky, brown mystery cubes flew around in my thoughts.  I wasn't prepared for this malodorous dish to ruin my appetite for the night, but then again maybe it would be one of those things where I would get hooked. But when the dish came out, I saw (or rather smelled) that this seemed to be rather ordinary tofu, other than the fact it was deep fried. Confusion ensued. How was this tofu "aged"? Was it some kind of acquired taste that amateurs couldn't even detect?

A quick look at the menu cleared things up. This was not "aged" tofu but "age dofu", properly pronounced agé-dofu. It was a moment where I clearly saw something lost in translation in a fairly humorous manner. I tried to explain the humor of the situation to my hosts, but didn't quite succeed:
"You see, when you said 'aged', I thought you meant it was fermented and I was scared but then I realized that the word isn't 'age', it's the Japanese word 'agé' that means deep fried, so it's not actually aged at all..."

...I'd like to say that you had to be there, but unfortunately I just don't have what it takes to be funny.
However, this post isn't about age-dofu or stinky tofu or any tofu for that matter. It's about a delicious chicken salad on rice, marinated in soy sauce and ginger, and "agéd", or deep fried.

 

Chicken stock/vegetable broth

A disclaimer: last week, my beloved camera up and died on me.  It had a good long life--it saw me through three cherished years of college, which is basically a lifetime for any digital doohickey these days.  I am not devastated to see it go.

However, its passing means that I have no photo for my post this week.  Which is fine, because my chosen subject is not glamorous or photogenic.  It is, however, delicious and versatile--two of my favorite words when it comes to food.

Onward!

Simplified Pollo en Pipián Verde (Chicken in Pumpkin Seed Sauce)

Every once in a while I just pick up recipes from random sources on the Internet, copy them to my "Recipes" folder, then forget about them until one day I decide I want to try cooking something new. This is one of those times.

I know next to nothing about Mexican dishes -- they are more Esteban's thing than mine -- but a quick Google search reveals that Pollo en Pipián Verde translates to "Chicken in Green Sauce," which is certainly to the point. If you're a gourmet with some time on your hands, you could take the time to scrounge together the 15 or so ingredients you need to prepare the dish from scratch; if you're a busy/lazy adult who needs something quick and easy to prepare for a weeknight dinner, however, this recipe is for you. All you need is some chicken thighs, pre-made salsa verde, pumpkin seeds, and a pair of zucchinis, give or take a few spices.

Beware, however: salsa verde comes hot. I grabbed a bottle that was rated "medium" and my sauce came out a bit too spicy for my and my parents' liking (even if they were quick to qualify that it still tasted delicious). Granted, I'm kind of a wuss when it comes to hot peppers, but I tend to find that when my mouth feels like it's on fire the sensation completely overrides the other flavors of a given dish -- and this is undesirable. I'd recommend you find a "mild" variant of the salsa, if at all possible... but perhaps you can handle the heat better than me and my family! 

Recipe after the jump:

Yakisoba

Columbus Day Weekend, 2008.  The place: Candlewood Lake, Connecticut.  The cast of characters: ten thesis-crazed Amherst students looking for a little R&R.  We spent four days at a friend's house on the lake, surrounded by sparkling water and fiery New England autumn hills, doing our best to forget about the work awaiting us back at school.  We slept until noon and spent the afternoons drinking beer and lounging on the dock.

And, taking advantage of the huge and elegantly equipped kitchen, we cooked.  We cooked like the hungry young fiends we were, overwhelmed with delight at our temporary freedom from dining-hall blandness.  We bought everything we could get our hands on at the local Costco, and put together elaborate communal dinners full of fresh vegetables and bright flavors.  And by far the most successful meal we had that weekend was our friend Shaylon's yakisoba.