What Is Wrong With Me?

I make this really good chicken, marinated in various things for while. Asian things like mirin and ginger and sesame oil and rice wine vinegar and fish sauce (which is such a bad name it will make you question anything anyone makes with it — they should just call it Top Secret Asian Delicious). After the chicken has been hanging out in this good stuff for a while ("a while" being until you remember that you have raw chicken in stuff in the fridge), then you grill it.

Well, at our house, you throw it on the grill pan, because you musn't go through the elaborate religious ceremony of the charcoal grill for something as pedestrian as the chicken I make all the time. Anyway, I put this chicken on the grill pan — the chicken Lu can eat almost a pound of herself all in one sitting, which is a very satisfying, if star-less, experience for a chef. And I cook it. And all the sugar in the mirin and the soy and who knows what the fish sauce has in it...makes this mysterious, determined crust on the pan.

Which then has to be cooked out of the pan. I cook the crust out of the pan with dish soap and water. And it is more satisfying to me than coooking the chicken itself.