I used to work in a pub and bar that had a special wings night every Friday. What is it about the wings and beer combination that is so alluring? Is it the cold contrast of bubbly beer after a smoking hot mouth? I used to love eating wings once a week and besides the usually met-free diet I kept, this was something I could happily indulge in. When I smell a plate of wings walk by my table my mouth still salivates, not for the meat itself, no– it longs for the yummy, spicy, mouth burning sauce, and isn’t that really as chicken wings are– a sauce vehicle? I firmly believe they are just that. We just want the sauce don’t we?



