Proof that nothing goes to waste in Japan. Especially the yummy bits

One of the great joys of living in Japan is discovering that the parts of the chicken many Western kitchens throw away are, in fact, the absolute best bits. Exhibit A for today’s Fun Friday deliciousness: yakitori with chicken skin, or kawa, grilled to golden, salty, slightly chewy perfection. And if you’re wondering why mine looks especially beautiful in the photo, it’s because I happen to live with a man who has quietly become an expert yakitori chef. Lucky me indeed.

There is something magical about chicken skin on a skewer. When it hits the grill, the fat starts to render just enough to crisp the edges while leaving the inside soft and rich. A quick brush of tare gives it that glossy, caramelized finish. Paired with negi, the Japanese spring onion that somehow becomes sweeter on the grill, you get this perfect balance of textures and flavors. It’s the kind of food that makes you instinctively lean forward after the first bite, already plotting the next skewer.

But what I love most is how this dish fits into the bigger story of yakitori itself. The whole concept of skewering and grilling small pieces of chicken started to rise in popularity during the Edo period, when urban life was booming and people needed quick, affordable street food.

Back then, chickens weren’t eaten as frequently, and cooks were expected to use every part of the bird, not out of culinary creativity, but because nothing could go to waste. Skin, cartilage, liver, gizzards, wings, thighs, whatever could be skewered was skewered.

Over time, necessity turned into tradition, and eventually into the wide range of yakitori styles we know today.

That’s why using chicken skin is such a perfect example of Japanese food culture. Something that might look humble or even undesirable becomes delicious through care, technique and a respect for the whole ingredient. Instead of throwing the skin away, someone thought, what if we just grill it until it turns into the world’s most addictive bite?

And in our house, this tradition continues in the form of my husband carefully threading neat little accordion folds of chicken skin onto skewers, adjusting their spacing so they grill evenly, and brushing them just at the right moment with his homemade tare. I admire the whole process almost as much as I enjoy eating the final result.

Almost.