THE SIZE OF HUNGER
From the archives, March 2003

And as to fast food, for my money there is none better than the ancient but always fresh onigiri, which takes about ten seconds to make from the cooked rice that's always around in the Japanese household, and takes its shape from the hands that made it, usually those of a loving wife or grandma (self-made onigiri just don't taste as good as that kind).

Molded by wet salted hands around a center of pickled plum or a bit of salmon or scrambled egg or just about anything (nothing is good, too), the whole then wrapped in a sheet of nori seaweed (nothing is good, too), the onigiri needs no further explanation before eating with wide-open delight.

Nor does the onigiri require any ketchup or mustard, 1000-island dressing or Worcestershire, or any sauce whatsoever, it doesn't need a styrofoam box to keep it warm inside a bag inside another bag. Warm or cold, it works just as well either way. But if you do happen to grill your plain onigiri over, say, the small charcoal fire you're grilling your fish or chicken on, be sure to brush it with a little soy sauce and turn it frequently so that it gets equally brown and crispy everywhere. Much delight will follow.

The neat thing is, the onigiri is always exactly the size of your hunger.