CHICKEN SATE W/ “DIRTY” PEANUT SAUCE

[ezcol_1half] WHY NOW?  WHY THEN?  NO REASON.  IT WAS JUST A SWITCH TURNED ON, LIKE THE DAY WHEN A GIRL STARTS TO LIKE A BOY. Craving, is a strange thing. It's been 8 years since the first and last time I visited the island of Bali, and not in the almost 3 decades before nor the years after, had I given this thing called sate (or satay) even the slightest attention.  Weird, given that I have, since then, graced through the feeding grounds of Malaysia, Thailand, Vietnam and Hong Kong, trapped in the seduction of rice noodles folding under that intoxicating broths, infatuated with fish heads bubbling inside the sinisterly red gravy, undistracted from the fetish pursuit of just how transcendently sexy it could be, inside the supple thighs of a chicken gently poached in herbed stock and served over rice.  Might I even add that when it comes to meats-on-a-stick, I did plenty damage around the globe. [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] But sate?  Yeah sure I saw it somewhere here and there.  But what, why and how, honestly, I couldn't care less. Perhaps I've always suspected them to be dry, a reasonable doubt given the skimpy amount of meats having to fully char over charcoal.  Or that they, out of the mere once or twice close encounters, appeared to