I have a tough time with Asian cuisines, because they demand restraint, care, accuracy. I favor things where it’s okay to belly up to a thing incrementally, and if you overshoot there are ways to balance it back. Like baking bread, where you can make up for a multitude of sins with enough hours to step back and think it through, seek advice. At the hot wok’s maw, it’s already done before you have a chance to reconsider. But the combination of flavors draw me in, time and again: chiles, cilantro, mint, soy, peanut, sesame, lime, garlic, ginger.
And Hillary made an irresistible teriyaki sauce for our salmon(s): both farmed and steelhead. Special thanks to Derrick for that incredible Iwachu Nabe iron wok.