Dango is best fresh off the grill. — Mitarashi dango grilled over a shichirin

There are days when I have an irresistible craving for mitarashi dango. That snack of white dumplings on a skewer, grilled and coated in a sweet and savory sauce. You could buy them, but grilling them at home over a shichirin charcoal grill is something special. The fragrant aroma of them fresh off the grill is something you can only experience right there on the spot.

At our house, we occasionally grill dango on the shichirin in the garden. We place the skewered dumplings over the charcoal and give them a nice, golden char. Then, we coat them in the sweet and savory sauce and give them one more quick sear. The sauce bubbles up, and a fragrant aroma fills the air. Today, I am writing about those mitarashi dango.

■ First, get a nice char

First, grill the dango as they are, without any sauce. Roll them over the charcoal fire, letting the surface develop a nice, golden char. A little bit of scorching here and there adds a wonderful, savory flavor.

As they grill, the surface of the dango becomes slightly firm, while the inside remains chewy. This texture—crispy on the outside and soft on the inside—is the greatest joy of grilling at home. With charcoal, you also get the scent of the open flame, giving them a character quite different from store-bought ones.

■ Coat with the sauce

Once they are charred, coat them in the sweet and savory sauce. It is a thick, glossy sauce made from soy sauce and sugar (along with mirin or potato starch). Coat the grilled dango generously with this, and pass them over the fire once more. The sauce will bubble, become glossy, and the fragrant aroma will intensify even further.

This sauce is the star of mitarashi dango. It is sweet, salty, and fragrant. When this sauce coats the chewy, grilled dango, it is simply irresistible. The recipe for the sauce seems to vary slightly from house to house and shop to shop. Our sauce is our own unique flavor.

■ Eat them hot off the grill

Once they are done, eat them while they are hot. As you eat the fresh dango, you have to huff and puff because they are hot as you take them off the skewer one by one. The outside is fragrant, the inside is chewy, and the sweet and savory sauce spreads through your mouth.

Freshly grilled dango get a bit hard as time passes. That is why eating them right as they come off the grill is the privilege of grilling at home. I eat them with my children, both of us saying, "It's hot, it's hot!" This time spent eating them freshly made together is nothing extraordinary, but it is wonderful.

■ The effort makes them taste better

Grilling the dango, coating them in sauce—it would be faster to just buy them, but we go to the trouble of doing it ourselves. However, they taste all the better for that effort. The fragrant char and the bubbling sauce are only possible because they were grilled right there.

This is one of Japan's home-style snacks. It is not flashy, but I would be happy if the fragrance of these sweet and savory dango, grilled over a shichirin, could be conveyed to people overseas as well.

(Note: There are various theories regarding how to make dango, the sauce recipe, grilling methods, and the origins of mitarashi, and they differ greatly by household and region. This text is just 'one example from our home.' Please be very careful with fire, charcoal, and burns. When eating mochi or dango, small children and the elderly should chew well to avoid choking.)

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[English] Dango is best fresh off the grill.

Some days you just crave mitarashi dango — those skewered white rice dumplings, grilled and coated in a sweet-savory sauce. Buying them is fine, but grilled at home over a shichirin (charcoal brazier) they're something else; the smell of them fresh off the fire is only had on the spot. We sometimes grill dango on the garden shichirin: skewers set over the coals until nicely charred, then coated in the sweet-savory sauce and given one more quick pass over the fire, the sauce bubbling and a savory smell rising.

First you grill them plain, no sauce — rolling the skewers over the coals to color the surface, a little scorched here and there being the good, savory part. As they cook the surface firms while the inside stays soft and chewy; that "crisp outside, soft inside" is the best of grilling at home, and over charcoal there's a smokiness that gives them a different face from store-bought.

Once colored, you coat them in the sauce — soy and sugar (and mirin or a little starch) cooked to a glossy thickness — heaping it on and passing them over the fire once more, so the sauce bubbles up, turns glossy, and the savory smell grows stronger. That sauce is the star of mitarashi dango: sweet, salty and savory, and against the chewy grilled dumpling it's irresistible. The blend differs a little by house and by shop; ours is our own taste.

Then you eat them hot, prying them off the skewer one by one, huffing at the heat — savory outside, chewy inside, the sauce spreading in your mouth. They firm up as they cool, so eating them as they come off the fire is the privilege of grilling at home; with the kids, everyone going "hot, hot," that time of eating them just-made is nothing much but good. You could just buy them, yet you go to the trouble — and it's worth exactly the trouble it takes; the charred color and the bubbling sauce only happen because you grilled them right there. It's a home snack of Japan, and I'd be glad if the savor of these sweet-savory dango off the shichirin came through. (Recipes, sauce and origins vary; take care with fire and burns, and chew mochi and dango well — young children and the elderly should be careful not to choke.)