My Obaachan’s (grandmother’s) super secret teriyaki sauce is legendary in my family. It has the perfect balance of sweet and salty and an unparalleled depth of flavor. Despite the tenacious efforts of various friends and family members over the years, she managed to keep the recipe a closely held secret. At least, I thought she had …
On a typically sunny autumn day in Los Angeles, bright sunshine streamed through the second-story window of Obaachan’s nursing home room. Her bed — the kind that lifted her up into a sitting position at the touch of a button — was in the corner closest to the door. The two other ladies she shared the spacious room with had more seniority, and therefore occupied the beds next to the window.
Today, Obaachan was sitting up in her bed, her short silvery hair neatly combed. Her smooth skin, the product of meticulous care using Japanese skincare products, belied her 81 years. She wore a cream blouse and her favorite red knit vest, with a blanket covering her legs. She had the room to herself, as her roommates were out in the common area. After enduring three years of dialysis to treat her end-stage kidney disease, she was now quite thin and frail. But her spirits were high today, because she was expecting a visitor.
Aunty M arrived with a beautiful bouquet of pink roses. She walked into the room with purpose, announced by the staccato clicks of her high heels on the linoleum floor. In her mid-50s, she wore her unnaturally black hair as a stylish pixie cut and had gold jewelry adorning her ears, neck, fingers, and wrists. She placed the glass vase of roses onto a nearby table and sat down on a metal chair next to the bed. They chatted. Obaachan smiled. Aunty M laughed, then pulled out a small notebook and pen from her black designer tote.
Aunty M was triumphant. After years of cajoling, she finally had it — Obaachan’s super secret teriyaki sauce recipe was hers.
A few months later, in her expansive kitchen, Aunty M put on her apron, gathered the ingredients, and got to work. A shiny stainless steel stock pot sat on a professional-quality stove with the burner set to simmer. A rich aroma of sweet and salty filled the air. New mason jars sparkled on her tiled kitchen island. Excitedly, she spooned a small amount of the glossy black sauce onto a plate for a taste. But her smile soon faded and her forehead wrinkled in confusion.
She called Mom and said she thought she must have written the recipe down wrong. They compared notes and yes, there was a discrepancy. The recipes didn’t match, so Mom said she would test her version.
It turned out that both recipes for Obaachan’s super secret teriyaki sauce were fake!
Aunty M was disappointed. And annoyed.
Mom was shocked.
Mom called me and spent several minutes ranting about how embarrassed she was, and how she couldn’t believe Obaachan – her own mother! – gave her a fake family recipe. She was especially upset because she had already passed the recipe around to her friends. She then asked if she could compare her version to mine.
Of course – I said no.
You see, I was Obaachan’s secret-keeper. I knew I had the authentic recipe because we made batches of it together. I wrote down the ingredients in real time and, more importantly, observed the process of making it.
Obaachan and I shared a love of cooking. Like many exceptional home cooks, she rarely measured anything and just relied on her eyes, hands, nose, and sense of taste. She taught me to cook that way too.
She used to simmer the sauce in large pots scarred with long years of use in her cramped apartment kitchen. Instead of new mason jars, she poured the inky black liquid into used sake and soy sauce bottles and Best Foods mayonnaise jars — recycling and reusing before it was in vogue.
A quick brush of the sauce onto grilled rib-eye steaks developed a delicious caramelized crust. A drizzle onto sizzling fried rice or a skillet of stir-fried vegetables imparted a rich color and a perfectly balanced salty and sweet flavor. Marinated and broiled chicken became an easy weeknight meal. Everyone wanted the recipe for this versatile sauce, but she always laughed off the requests — blocking and redirecting like a Public Relations pro — without divulging her secret.
Obaachan fiercely protected her super secret teriyaki sauce recipe. So I was honestly surprised to learn that she had shared it, especially with Aunty M, who had aggressively coveted it for so many years, and with Mom, who could never keep a secret.
But I guess in the end, she hadn’t really given away the recipe to anyone other than me!
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