I have an easier time believing in aliens and the supernatural than I do finding authentic Asian food in the Palouse. Often the case with naysayers, seeing is believing, but in my case with Golden Teriyaki, eating is believing.

In honor of Lunar New Year, the Vietnamese Student Association (VSA) had a celebratory dinner at Golden Teriyaki. Never turning down the prospect of food, I earnestly tagged along. I prepared myself for a cavalcade of Chinese American courses, something that I happened to be craving at the time, but I was in store for some pleasant surprises.

Golden Teriyaki has two menus. One is a large Americanized menu with the typical fixings of sweet and sour anything, egg rolls and an assortment of other American-invented foods. The other menu is an unassuming front and back page with minimalistic descriptions and provoking plates. This secondary menu is a passport for adventure and authenticity.

Two mystery boxes arrive on the table evoking a hungry curiosity. A suspenseful lifting of the amphora lid releases the seductive steam and wakes up the sleepy piscine parcel. It almost seems angry with you as it swims in a red sea of chili and fire. The combative creature is consumed and conquered with avidity and the table relishes in the fiery dance on their tongue. The fish shows its strength and meatiness by withstanding the singing spices and the bed of noodles surreptitiously tucked underneath. The entire dish was a masterfully crafted illusion, inaugurating the remaining tricks up the sleeves.

Beef with onion is an insipid sounding dish, but the reality was a mind bending proclamation of bovine intervention. Ribbons of caramelized onion flow in pas de deux textural tandem with the logs of leek. Slices of unctuous peppery beef melt at the touch of the tongue and the array of alliums added their natural raw earthy sweetness.

Golden Teriyaki is a member of a pantheon of family oriented restaurants. There was a serene sincerity about the owner who was carefully observing the rush and clamor of his restaurant. Often times I forget that most restaurants aren’t just a business, but rather their way of being. Hyper localized restaurants seem to wear their hearts on their sleeve and it doesn’t take a critic to notice their unshakable pride for what they have accomplished.

Misdirection allows for control during a show of mysticism. If the chefs are the conjurers of ethereal eats, then our amiable waitress was the perfect assistant. She averted our attention away from the obvious choice of the Americanized menu and directed us right into the chef’s hands to highlight only their best arsenal of skills. Many of their recommended dishes demonstrated a proclivity towards braised or stewed dishes. This specialty is noteworthy because the food someone cooks tells their story or character. Braising and stewing are both processes of patience, humility and a robust labor of love. I applaud any restaurant that can illustrate how food can spark domesticity at the restaurant table.

The braised chicken was reflective of the genuine spirit of the restaurant; inviting tones of brown gave the chicken a soulful and hushed warmth. Glistening marbles of fat and tenderness hung on by their bare bones. Cooking anything on the bone grants a piquant and spellbinding flavor and depth. It was the pinnacle definition of stick to your ribs food. Unforgettable.

The final mystical morsel in their secret spell book was a pork stew with tofu and hard-boiled egg. Usually mono textured dishes are unappealing to me, but this one was determined to prove its worth. Soft pillows of tofu elicited a funk for the pork and the briny saltiness of the egg was a lingering delight.

The magical exhibition was not all unfathomable incantations though. My combination dish of pork fried rice, sweet and sour prawn and black bean chicken was straightforward. No hidden gems and no coin pulling out of the ear. Slivers of underwhelming pork were mounted on a dome of dry fried rice. The black bean chicken was the saving grace with its provoking spices and its reservoir of tangy sauce. The sweet and sour prawn became a nonentity as the sickly sweet neon red sauce drowned and demoralized the already flaccid crustacean. The green bean chicken was mild, but the string beans were lively and crisp, done with textbook precision.

With 12 people in our group opting to order family style, their total bill was roughly $120, but with splitting it equally, their meal was a bang for their buck. Golden Teriyaki also doesn’t take gratuity, so it’s a prime choice for group dining.

I now know how Dorothy felt when she was whisked away to the enchanting land of Oz. I certainly wasn’t in Pullman anymore during my dining experience at Golden Teriyaki. They were gurus of not only service, but of culinary sorcery. The next time you’re craving Chinese food, go down the rabbit hole and go for gold. I promise something magical will be on the other end.

Atmosphere: Relaxed and bright.

Address: 1285 N Grand Ave

Pullman, WA 99163

Contact: (509) 332-1018

Delivery: None

Dress Code: Casual

Good for groups

Reservations: No

Sound: Moderate

Rating: ★★★★

Ratings range from zero to five stars. Zero is poor. One star, is fair or satisfactory. Two stars, good. Three stars, very good. Four stars, excellent. Five stars is extraordinary or outstanding.