Harris, what is the dish that:

  1. inspired your love of food:

    It was a series of dishes, actually, including boiled calf’s tongue, roast chicken with potatoes and carrots, “prezeleh” (poppy seed covered bialy) and all the other earthy, rustic, beautiful foods my grandmother used to prepare for me when I was a teenager. A Jewish immigrant from Poland, she arrived to Brooklyn late in life, and could only converse in Yiddish and Polish, which I didn’t speak. So food became our common language. She’d cook for me every other Sunday; as I tucked in, she’d just watch me and smile. That was enough. Those unforgettable afternoons taught me what food really meant — not just the dish, but the love and soul that goes into it. I always try to remember that when I write my stories. By the way, after my grandmother passed away, I discovered that back in Poland she raised turkeys on the roof of her tenement and built a still in her apartment to make slivovitz, plum brandy, her favorite hootch. What a cool lady.

  2. is your signature:

    I don’t have one, per se, but your question got me thinking about the idea of signature dishes in Japanese cuisine. I’m a reporter who’s been writing about Japanese food and studying how to cook it for a number of years. I just returned from spending three months training in restaurant kitchens in Tokyo and the city of Fukuoka. Aside from being unbelievably awestruck by how hard and intensely the chefs I met there worked, what really blew me away was the breadth of dishes they cooked — literally hundreds of different preparations. There wasn’t one signature dish at these fine restaurants, the cooking kept changing along with the seasons, sometimes even day by day. So it seemed to me that the sense or feeling of the restaurant itself became its signature. I love this notion in Japanese gastronomy.

  3. you cook on your night off:

    Not everything I cook is Japanese, of course. Roasting a whole chicken in a terra cotta cazuela, a bird I let sit salted and loosely covered in the fridge for a day or two to concentrate its flavor, then slip lemon peel and rosemary sprigs under the skin and in the cavity before cooking, well, how can you beat that?

Can we have an extra helping?

  • What one new ingredient should I add to my pantry and how should I use it?

    Yuzu kosho. A marriage of fiery chilies and tangy, fragrant Japanese yuzu citrus zest and juice, this amazing condiment is super versatile — pair it with salt-grilled chicken, meat or fish, or dab a little into a broth-based food or soup to add an irresistible aromatic kick. I love yuzu kosho and always keep bottles of both the red and green versions handy in my fridge. It lasts for months. (Red is more rounded, for fish, while green is sharper, better for chicken and meat.)

Harris, can you share a recipe for one of these dishes?

Grilled Chicken with Yuzu Kosho

Serves 4.

Debone four chicken legs and thighs (or buy them already deboned) and salt liberally. (I like to use arajio, Japanese sea salt that’s still damp with brine, which has incredibe mineraly flavor.) Grill on a barbecue or broil in an oven until the chicken’s ready. Slice into bite-sized pieces and serve with green yuzu kosho on the side. Eat the chicken together with the yuzu kosho. Amazing.