Up For Some Wings?

Eating chicken wings is the closest dining experience we have to our primordial ancestors. You know, it’s raw. Savage. It’s one of the few foods you can acceptably consume with your hands, pulling and tearing flesh from intricate-structures of airy bone like a wild baboon feasting on the recently gnawed-off leg of a small mammal.

Unlike other “finger” foods however, wings require more attention. You need to stare at your food, concentrate even and work at it. It’s eating with reward – you feel good about yourself because there’s a work ethic involved.

If you’re doing an adequate job, your face and hands will be covered thoroughly in hot sauce, signifying the spilled blood of your kill. At the end of the meal, you sit back, relax and you lick the sauce (blood) from your fingers and chops as would a lion after over-gorging on the still-warm innards of a downed gazelle.

So see, going for wings is a lot more than just a snack and an excuse to stare down the top of some dumb Hooter’s girl.

Well…going for wings with me anyhow.