Sanzoku-yaki (山賊焼, Nagano fried thigh)

A whole chicken thigh has a different courage from little pieces of karaage. It lands on the plate wide and rough-edged, crisp at the corners, juicy underneath, the sort of food that doesn't apologize for taking up space. Sanzoku-yaki looks like a feat. It isn't. The trick is to open the thigh flat, season it deeply, and let the starch do its quiet work.

The one detail that decides it is the dredge. Potato starch clings lightly, then fries into a dry, crisp shell that doesn't drink oil the way a heavy flour coating can. Press it on, let it sit until the surface turns a little damp, then dust once more before it goes into the pot. That second touch gives the crust enough body to protect the meat while the thigh cooks through.

Garlic and ginger make this feel more robust than much of everyday washoku, but the seasoning is still honest: soy, sake, a little mirin, and aromatics. Nothing hidden. Use a fresh, boneless thigh with the skin left on if you can, because the skin gives the crust its best crackle and the dark meat stays forgiving. Fry it flat, cut it after cooking, and serve it with shredded cabbage and lemon so the richness has somewhere clean to land.