
Chef Takumi
Japanese Potato Salad (ポテトサラダ, Poteto Sarada)
Japanese potato salad asks for warm floury potatoes, salted cucumber, a little ham, and Kewpie folded in after the heat has faded. Keep it rough, tangy, and quietly generous.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Daigakuimo is simple student comfort: sweet potato cut stout, fried until the corners take color, then turned in a soy-sugar syrup that sets shiny instead of sticky.
Daigakuimo begins with a sweet potato that already wants to be dessert. In autumn, when satsumaimo are at their prime, the flesh is yellow, dense, and quietly sweet. All we do is cut it into rough angles, fry it, and give it a thin coat of soy-sugar shine.
This dish looks like confectionery, so people suspect a thermometer and a brave heart. No. The first secret is gentler than that: cook the potato through at a moderate heat, then give it one hotter minute so the corners crisp. The skin stays on because it holds the piece together and gives that fine purple edge against the gold flesh. Nothing hidden, nothing fussy.
The syrup is the place to pay attention. It should bubble slowly and look glossy before the soy goes in, thick enough to cling but not dark enough to taste burnt. That is the meeting point: hot potato, thick ame, black sesame. If the glaze runs, wait a little longer. If it smells like caramel, you went too far, and the sugar has started teaching the class without permission.
Daigakuimo sits happily between side dish and sweet snack, the kind of thing that fits a weeknight plate, a bento corner, or a picnic box once cooled. Serve fewer pieces than the bowl could hold. Leave it room, let the black sesame show against the glaze, and the dish reads exactly as it should: cheerful, plain, and honmono.
Daigakuimo means university potatoes, and most accounts place the sweet in Tokyo in the early twentieth century, especially around the Kanda and Hongō student districts. It became tied to students because satsumaimo was cheap, filling, and sweet; one widely repeated story says students sold the fried potatoes in syrup to help cover school expenses. The sweet potato reached Satsuma from the Ryūkyū Islands around the turn of the eighteenth century, and scholar Aoki Konyō promoted its cultivation near Edo after the Kyōhō famine of 1732.
Quantity
2 medium (about 600g)
scrubbed, skin left on
Quantity
for soaking
Quantity
enough for 5 cm / 2 inches in the pot
for deep-frying
Quantity
80g (about 6 tablespoons)
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
2 teaspoons
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| Japanese sweet potatoes (satsumaimo)scrubbed, skin left on | 2 medium (about 600g) |
| cold water | for soaking |
| neutral oilfor deep-frying | enough for 5 cm / 2 inches in the pot |
| sugar | 80g (about 6 tablespoons) |
| water | 2 tablespoons |
| soy sauce | 1 teaspoon |
| toasted black sesame seeds | 2 teaspoons |
Scrub the satsumaimo well and leave the skin on. Cut them into stout 4 cm chunks using rangiri, the rolling cut: turn the potato a quarter turn after each diagonal cut so you get irregular angled faces. Soak the pieces in cold water for 10 minutes. This rinses away surface starch, keeps the cut faces clean, and helps the corners fry crisp instead of scorching before the center is tender.
Drain the sweet potatoes and dry them thoroughly with a clean towel, especially around the skin and cut edges. Water in hot oil spits, and wet surfaces cool the oil at the very place you want quick frying. Dry pieces fry cleanly. Wet pieces hesitate.
Pour oil into a heavy pot to a depth of about 5 cm / 2 inches and heat it to 160 C / 320 F. Fry the sweet potatoes in batches so they have room to move, turning them now and then, for 8 to 10 minutes. They are ready for the final heat when a skewer slides in without force and the edges are just beginning to turn gold. Moderate oil gives the dense center time to cook before the outside darkens.
Raise the oil to 180 C / 355 F and fry the pieces for 1 to 2 minutes more, just until the corners deepen in color and the skin looks a little wrinkled. This hotter finish crisps the outside without drying the middle. Lift them to a rack, not a heap of paper towels, so the corners stay dry while you make the glaze.
Put the sugar and 2 tablespoons water in a wide skillet. Stir only until the sugar is evenly wet, then bring it to a boil over medium heat and leave it alone. When the bubbles grow large, slow, and glossy, 3 to 4 minutes, add the soy sauce and swirl the pan. The syrup should fall from a spoon in a thick thread. Pull it before it turns dark; this is ame, a sugar glaze, not caramel.
Add the hot fried sweet potatoes to the skillet and turn them gently until every angled face shines. Scatter in the black sesame and lift the pieces onto an oiled plate or parchment, leaving space between them as they cool. Hot potato meeting thick syrup is the detail that decides the dish: too thin and the glaze slides off, too cold and it clumps. Serve warm or at room temperature.
1 serving (about 160g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Takumi
Japanese potato salad asks for warm floury potatoes, salted cucumber, a little ham, and Kewpie folded in after the heat has faded. Keep it rough, tangy, and quietly generous.

Chef Takumi
Skin-on satsumaimo rounds, a little sugar, and thin lemon slices simmer into a bright side dish that keeps its shape and tastes even better after resting.

Chef Takumi
Lotus root is all clean cut and crisp bite here: thin coins warmed in sesame oil, glossed with soy and sweetness, and finished before the snap has a chance to leave.

Chef Takumi
Summer eggplant does most of the work here: tender slabs, a sweet aka-miso glaze, a brief spell under fierce heat, and sesame for the small crackle at the end.