Japaneats その6 - 焼き鳥 (やきとり - yakitori) - Grilled chicken on skewers

Now that the weather is starting to cool down, the grills are being fired up and we're getting back into all the lovely hot food of the colder months. If you need somewhere to hole yourself up from the rain for a bit, you might want to seek out a good 焼き鳥 spot. You'll know it by the blast of hot air and mouth-watering smells as you open the door, the cluttered little collection of tables and the bellows of "いらっしゃいませ" (irasshaimase - welcome) as you walk in. 焼き鳥 itself is about as old and uncomplicated as food gets  - as soon as we figured out sticks and fire, I'm sure the chicken was only a matter of time.

That's not to say it was always chicken - there was a bit more evolution to it than that. Much like our word "poultry", in the context of food "鳥" (とり - tori - bird) usually refers to chicken but not always. In the early days of 焼き鳥 it was actually grilled 雀 (すずめ - suzume - sparrow). This is old talk though, part of the history of 焼き鳥 that stretches back several hundred years. Of course, some places still do things that way.

I'm told that the gorgeous 伏見稲荷 (ふしみいなり - Fushimi Inari) in 京都 (きょうと - Kyoto), is a good example. It's made up of countless 鳥居 (とりい - torii gates), each donated by a business, forming a snaking path that goes right up and over the mountain. It's usually thought of as a shrine to good fortune in business but strictly, Inari is the god of rice. Given that, any daring 雀 who attempt to pinch the rice offerings at the temple are promptly offed and turned into the shrine's other claim to fame - 焼き鳥. This is probably worth keeping in mind if you're ever reincarnated as a sparrow, unless you want to end up being put on a skewer, grilled and photographed with a smiling tourist.

Most other 焼き鳥 places are only of concern if you're a chicken and they can usually be easily spotted by the 赤提灯 (あかちょうちん - akachouchin - red lantern) outside. 赤提灯 are basically old versions of signboards and are traditionally associated with the cheap-and-cheerful eating and drinking places such as 焼き鳥 and うどん (udon) restaurants. If there's no 赤提灯 to be seen, you'll probably be able to follow your nose to the smells of grilled chicken pouring out of vents on to the street, or your ears to the gales of laughter coming from inside. These kinds of places are affectionately known as 屋台 (やたい - yatai), which can refer to a food stall, a stand at a festival or even a little food cart. Even the more upmarket 屋台 tend to be casual, cluttered and noisy - the money seems to be spent making the food better.

The teacher I'm talking to pauses at this point and looks thoughtful. "屋台 have an... ojisan feeling," he says. "Ojisan" refers to a stereotypical middle aged man and it's usually used to poke fun. Despite that (or maybe because of that), 屋台 are growing in popularity with younger people who seem to see them as a rite of passage - because they're traditionally drinking establishments, going there means you've grown up and started your life as an adult.

This may be a good point to note that 焼き鳥 is not well suited to family dining - if you're under 20 you may be out of luck in terms of the 屋台 themselves. However, a lot of family-friendlier restaurants now serve 焼き鳥 and a what's called 串焼き (くしやき - kushiyaki - grilled skewer) as part of a bigger menu. 串焼き is very similar but with various combinations of vegetables, seafood, red meat and deep fried things instead of chicken; "串" is also one of the easiest 漢字 (かんじ - kanji) to remember, given that it looks like a shish-kebab.

To get back to basics, 焼き鳥 itself is small pieces of bamboo-skewered chicken cooked over charcoal. This can be done on anything from a huge burner in a commercial kitchen to small portable barbeques like those used by the 焼き鳥 stall students at the culture festival. The picture above is 胸肉 (むねにく - muneniku - breast meat) brushed with 塩 (しお - shio - salt)...

...and this is もも肉 (ももにく - momoniku - thigh meat) brushed with タレ (tare - a thick, sweet sauce with mirin and soy sauce). It's also worth pointing out that traditionally, the skewers would just be meat - the ねぎ (negi - spring onion) is a relatively modern invention. In any case, 塩 and タレ are the two most common bastings, but some restaurants add their own touches.

This is もも肉 in ラー油 (らーゆ - raayu - chilli oil). I'm told that other restaurants have been known to use にんにく (ninniku - garlic), しょうが (shouga - ginger) and even their own mixes of spices to differentiate themselves from everybody else.

Some restaurants seem to go off the beaten track more than others - this surprisingly delicious 梅 (うめ - ume - plum) marinade with mayonnaise, for example. Regardless of the shop though, it's not all 胸肉 and もも肉 - no matter how modern their menu is, they all make sure to follow the old rule of not to wasting a single bit of the bird!

つくね (tsukune - chicken mince) is one example of this, essentially chicken meatballs on a stick. Occasionally this contains 軟骨 (なんこつ - nankotsu - cartilage), which gives it a very unpleasant crunch that a lot of people seem to savour. If you're feeling especially adventurous, 軟骨 is often served on skewers by itself, as is the rather chewy ハート (haato - heart), レバー (rebaa - liver), crispy 皮 (かわ - kawa - skin) and nearly every other bit of a chicken you can think of. Personally, after sampling a few different things I'm quite happy to stick with 胸肉 and もも肉, but let a thousand skewers grill.

焼き鳥 has to be one of Japan's oldest and most enduring dining traditions, as popular today as it was centuries ago. It may not be the prettiest, quietest or most sophisticated experience you can have here but when you emerge from the heat and smoke, ears still ringing from the banter of the noisy ojisan, I bet you'll be smiling. As the temperature drops and the rain starts falling, keep an eye out for those 赤提灯 - that's when they'll really start to look inviting.