Dish 69: Chicken Teriyaki at Ooka, Montgomeryville, http://www.ookasushi.com/new/montgomeryville.html
The ride to Ooka started much as any of my outings with Colleen begin, climbing into the passenger seat of a white Japanese luxury vehicle, and ended quite the same, filling up 24 ounce cups with Wawa coffee. And, let’s face it, the middle was pretty standard, too. Case in point; upon entry into the car, Colleen gushes:
“Lauren, I saw the two cutest old ladies today at the grocery store, wearing Chanel boucle suits and riding off in their Mercedes S-class. They were telling stories about men and couldn’t stop laughing. That’s going to be us!”
Possibly. I always preferred the mental image of us in our riding outfits. Not that we ride now, and not even that we own Chanel boucle suits, but that these are the sorts of activities we might pursue post-obtainment of great success. So we sat down in the hibachi section at Ooka to enjoy the communal bonding associated with catching food in one’s mouth (Which I refuse to do. I am not a seal.) and watching young men light onions on fire, drawing to mind the time I tried to convince Greg that we should attempt fire breathing by spitting vodka and lighting it. He declined. Which is precisely the reason I surround myself with people with great judgment. And why I still have eyebrows.
The chicken teriyaki is not part of the hibachi menu, but it does arrive on a sizzling hot metal skillet, which roasts the savory bed of onions directly into the earthly sweet sauce, which has exceptionally clear notes of beer and molasses, a far cry from the bland sweetness that makes me dread teriyaki. Colleen helped me finish off the onions, and, though the chicken was moist and tender, we barely finished half.
Satisfied and entertained, we gathered our cardigans and headed to Wawa for our traditional after dinner fix, discussing the versatility and usefulness of chino shorts and where to locate her birthday party (Distrito); every word, a moment closer to our goals, every thought a second closer to being two old ladies wearing boucle suits and gossiping as they meander joyfully through their daily routines.