Beef + Teriyaki
Both Beef, and Teriyaki represent watershed moments in my culinary journey. Having grown up on the fringes of the great Indian cow belt (irony takes a bow), I had heard the word ‘Beef’ all of fifteen times in my seventeen tender years, until I left home and moved to Bangalore to attend design school. It was here that I received my first ever Steak. There was no going back. Avoiding the circuitous diversion that is my romance with beef, I shall say only this – should you ever find yourself in Bangalore, in need of fulfilment and curious as to what a quintessential Bangalore Steak might be, find your way to Shezan on Cunningham Road. Ask for Altaf, the rotund and convivial heir to the Shezan legacy, who will insist that he knows your father, or your uncle, even if you’ve only met him for the first time. His white lies are endearing, for he delivers them with a beaming smile, rendered all the more spectacular by the immense mustache it holds up; he means only to treat you like family. Order the Chateaubriand Steak. You will not be disappointed.
My first time eating Japanese food would come a few years later, when my perennial friend Abdul, a brother soul to be sure, came into some birthday money, and wanted to treat me to a special dinner. My only brief was to wear footwear that I could easily remove. We made the trip into town on his bike from the erstwhile suburb of Yelahanka, where we lived together. He parked outside what appeared to be a fairly regular, nondescript commercial mixed-use building; the kind that you’d never visit unless some inescapable mundanity of civic life necessitated it. I felt a little confused; this place didn’t look like birthday dinner.
We took an unusually wide staircase up to a floor that looked like it should rightly house a branch office of some mundane public institution, or a series of undistinguished travel agencies at best. 1980’s terrazzo floors and textured wall paint in dull pastel shades, rendered infinitely more bland by the dull white light emanating from a solitary tube light, also a relic, blinking meekly as it approached the end of what had evidently been an unduly prolonged life. Exceedingly plain and oppressively boring. Off to the side though, was a doorway adorned by a Noren curtain, concealing a warm glow. We entered cautiously, immediately aware that this place elicited some degree of conduct. We were asked politely to remove our footwear, and seated in a private dining space fashioned after a Washitsu - a traditional Japanese tatami room. We were seated on the floor and greeted with warm Sake. This was particularly welcome, since the rain had left a chill in the air that evening.
We ordered the customary Sushi platter, some Okonomiyaki, and the Beef Teriyaki. While I proceeded to have many revelations that evening, I remember distinctly, biting into the Beef, presented as small, succulent cubes dowsed in a Teriyaki sauce that shone, and thinking to myself, “This is sorcery”. Never had I experienced such fine juxtaposition of sweet and savoury flavours, with such depth, applied to meat. That evening inspired in me a deep appreciation for Japanese culture. Not only the food, but the sense of sanctity around dining, and the respect for craftsmanship. This marked the beginning of a long-standing romance with Japanese culture. Twelve years down the line, I write you this recipe flanked at my desk by Japanese wall art, poised to return to my current read by a Japanese author.
To complete this recipe, I offer you a read…
‘In Praise Of Shadows’ by Juni’ichiro Tanizaki, which you can find here,
And a song…
‘Obokuri-Eemui’ by Asazaki Ikue, which you may find here..
Ingredients
Beef (I recommend a well-marbled Skirt steak, cut into strips or small cubes. Short rib is great too!)
A neutral Oil
Toasted Sesame Oil
Bok Choy
Scallions
White Sesame Seeds
Light Soy Sauce
Brown Sugar
Mirin
Sake
Salted Butter
Corn Starch
Preparation
Teriyaki Sauce
In a small saucepan, add..
3 Parts Soy Sauce
1 Part Mirin
1 Part Sake
1 Part Brown Sugar
Mix these gently over low heat till they are well incorporated. Don’t let the mixture come to a boil.
Add a small knob of butter. This is not traditional at all, but I like to add some; it helps emulsification and imparts a distinct sheen.
Add a tiny bit of cornstarch to achieve the desired consistency. It should be a thick sauce. When adding cornstarch to anything, always make a slurry - dissolve it in a tiny bit of room temp water and add that in.
Set aside.
Beef
Marinate the beef in salt and a little bit of light soy sauce. Allow it to sit for 10 minutes.
Heat up a deep pan or wok till it’s really quite hot. We need to impart colour to the meat without overcooking it; this requires really high heat.
Add oil to the hot pan/wok. Give it 15-20 seconds.
Add the beef to the pan/wok. You should hear a loud sizzle.
Cook the meat for no longer than 1 minute on each side, such that it is well browned/caramelized, then turn the heat down. High heat and browning is important to lock in the moisture. If the meat ends up boiling, it will dry out and become chewy.
Add your Teriyaki sauce, just enough to glaze the meat, and then some.
Add a spoonful of white sesame seeds.
Allow this to simmer for a few minutes.
Serve
While this can be eaten as an appetizer, I find it is best enjoyed over some sticky rice, with a drizzle of Sesame Oil, garnished with some finely chopped Scallion stalk.
For an accompaniment, stir fry the Bok Choy with some thinly sliced garlic, only till it reaches the peak of its colour, then turn the heat off. Season quite mildly with salt. A generous drizzle of Sesame Oil. This really completes the meal.
For better immersion, skip the plates and use bowls; these are more conducive to the use of chopsticks.
Wink, wink, if you’re feeling frisky, add an ounce of Bourbon to your Teriyaki sauce at the outset. This makes for a delicious variation.
