Like so many things, I just don't get it.
I've never liked chicken wings. Ever. From the wrinkled, bumpy skin that looks like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly, to the search and rescue party you have to send out to find any meat on the bone, there's absolutely nothing appetizing about them.
So I'm at a total loss to understand the seemingly endless proliferation of wing places popping up all over.
For starters, they seem like a food from a time when people were a lot smaller and had tiny little hands. Watching people eat them always reminds me of the scene in Big where Tom Hanks is eating the appetizer he thinks is a little corn cob.
Next, why all the different flavorings? BBQ. Cajon. Ranch. Asian. If these things didn't taste like dry little leftover chicken parts to start with you wouldn't have to smother them with sauce just to make them taste like something.
Obviously I must be in the minority because these restaurants are being built faster than mirrored buildings in Orange County.
And exactly at what point was the decision made that celery would be the perfect accompaniment to chicken wings? Maybe after a few too many Bloody Mary's the chef said, "Well, if celery works in a glass, maybe it'll work with chicken wings."
There's no accounting for taste, especially when it comes to these places. But to each their own.
At least I can still enjoy a real meal at the Frog and Peach.
