INSTANT JAPAN

TERIYAKI SAUCE is the quintessential Japanese condiment. We've updated it.

Between World War II and the arrival of sushi in America, "teriyaki" meant Japanese food, and vice-versa. And before SONY and TOYOTA and NIKON established their market dominance, we post-war Americans mostly owed our views of Japanese culture to martial arts and monster movies.

TERIYAKI! ...a word that sounds like something one hollers when breaking a cinder-block with a karate chop. No other adjective makes an entree-- be it Duck Breast or Chicken or Steak-- so instantly Japanese as does teriyaki, with its deep and dark umami baseline and its tense balance of sweet, salty, and funky flavors. But in the final analysis, what exactly is teriyaki? And can one make it from scratch?

For a number of reasons I've been exploring Asian sauces and marinades as of late, and so my eventual encounter with teriyaki was inevitable. As I perused multiple recipes to grasp its essence and soul, i.e., how it came to be and what it is trying to be, I saw its similarities to what I call "Red China Sauce," my half-humorous mishmash of every Asian ingredient one has on hand (hot pepper sauce, ginger, garlic, soy, sesame, fish sauce, etc.) to achieve a raucous cacophony of far-eastern flavors from every imaginable angle.

And yet more significantly I was dismayed to see that nearly all recipes for teriyaki call for thickening with cornstarch. To me that is just plain wrong, and for two reasons-- one, I'm always skeptical of the need to thicken a sauce (or anything else) with something that contributes nothing to its actual flavor; and two, corn was unknown to the Japanese islands until relatively recently, and thus could not possibly have been included in a genuine traditional Japanese recipe. And so I concluded that teriyaki as we know it-- a sweet, sticky, opaquely black coating loaded with sodium-- is probably just another shallow post-WWII American cultural appropriation, like pizza and "Chinese food."

My mission? To somehow make teriyaki more real... even if that entails substituting my "Champagne Syrup" for the sake-based mirin. For my starting point, here is the most typical and inclusive of all the teriyaki recipes I could find online, complete with its author's suggestions:

Tamari Sauce-- (You can substitute low sodium soy sauce, but tamari sauce has much more flavor while also contributing less sodium.)

Brown Sugar-- adds flavor and sweetness.

Fresh Ginger-- adds flavor and zing.

Fresh Garlic-- adds flavor and depth.

Honey-- adds flavor complexity and sweetness.

Sesame Oil-- adds depth of flavor.

Mirin-- adds flavor complexity and a hint of sweetness. (You can substitute sherry and a pinch of sugar, or omit it altogether.)

Cornstarch-- to thicken the sauce.

In contrast to Soy Sauce, Tamari is made without wheat and is also darker and richer. Mirin is simply boiled and reduced rice wine (sake) with added sugar. My bride and I strenuously avoid rice for health-related reasons, so I improvised a Mirin substitute by boiling a bottle of Champagne-method sparkling wine with half a cup of amontillado sherry and twice that much raw sugar to produce what I'll call "Champagne Syrup." Much more significantly, instead of thickening with cornstarch I stirred in some Ginger Preserves and mashed up some Black Garlic cloves in addition to a few scrapes of fresh ginger and garlic.

After a little tinkering, here is MY recipe for what we'll call NEO-TERIYAKI SAUCE--

Tamari Sauce (the base and the dominant ingredient)

Champagne Syrup (no more than 1/4 as much as the Tamari)

Ginger Preserves (adds sweetness and thickness)

Grated Fresh Ginger

Black Garlic (one large clove or two small cloves, mashed)

Grated Fresh Garlic

Sriracha (a REALLY tiny dash)

Sesame Oil (an equally tiny dash)

Honey (to taste, for balance)

The result? Deep darkness, in both color and flavor; thickness, and yet not quite sticky; and a substance almost over-saturated with a cacophony of all flavors eastern, just like my "Red China Sauce." I'm looking forward to serving it at as a dipping condiment in the center of a sampler plate of, say, seared Bluefin Tuna, Duck Breast, and Beef Tenderloin. Champagne or high-quality American sparkling wine would nicely complement such a variety of flavors and textures without competing for attention. I would also be delighted to serve this incredibly versatile neo-teriyaki sauce with a wide range of dishes including but not limited to Seared Sea Scallops, Roasted Black Cod, Lobster Tails, Chilean Sea Bass, Prime Rib, Kurobuta Pork Chops, Sautéed Shrimp, Sautéed Vegetables, Chicken Breast, Chicken Drumsticks, and Fillets of Salmon.

This is definitely a sauce worth mastering... if only to give just about anything you cook a pleasing hint of "Instant Japan."