Excuse me, would you like some chicken with your cartilage? Although this is not a real option at Teriyaki Boy, we certainly wish it was. This guys are about as careful as Jason Voorhees when cutting up their chicken to make the chicken teriyaki. We’ve been surprised to not find necks, heads, feet and beak in our chicken teriyaki, although we imagine we’re just the lucky ones. To call the quality at this joint suspect is really heaping entirely too much praise upon the staff. The “chicken” is a nice mixture of bone, cartilage, gristle, dark meat and darker meat and is topped with this mystically irresistible teriyaki sauce that is somehow crackalicious and keeps us coming back despite the inferior grade grub. The upstairs dining area is like eating lunch on a subway car, with about half the room and a quarter of the charm. The decoration is early-seventies bus station and the cleanliness is mid-eighties crack-den. We suggest skipping the dine-in experience and taking your animal parts to a cozier joint–say your fluorescent-light drenched cube in your hermetically sealed office. [MF]
732 7th Ave.