The Wing and I

Though the origin of the Buffalo wing is drenched in equal parts controversy and blue cheese dressing, the leading legend has it that the deep-fried delicacy is turning the big 4-0 this year. But thanks to Hooters’ menu, competitive eating contests and countless happy-hour specials, the poultry limb has remained eternally youthful--sort of the snack food equivalent of Dick Clark.

Much ink--and even more hot sauce--have been spilled over the genesis of Buffalo, N.Y.’s, most famous export. But the tale with the most traction began at the Anchor Bar, when Teressa Bellissimo stuck a tray of wings under the broiler, pulled them out, coated them with a hot sauce mixture and served them up into culinary history. The date was Oct. 30, 1964. I was born 11 months later, and our lives have been intertwined ever since.

In college, my fraternity roommate Bolt and I consumed enough chicken wings that we took it personally when a favorite restaurant of ours abandoned its “all you can eat” wing promotion. In a particularly weak moment, I even contemplated a summer job as a dancing chicken mascot for the local wing joint--Mountain Wings & Things--merely for the promise of an employee discount.

It was this same weakness that propelled me to my one and only brush with competitive eating--a contest I won (wings’ down) by picking clean 9 1/2 wings and drums in one minute, an exercise in public gluttony that earned me bragging rights, a winged baseball cap and a gift certificate for 120 wings. All told, I spent most of my 20s and 30s in a poultry buzz, lips afire, eyes glassy, palms greased with evidence of my addiction.

As I round the corner toward my 40th birthday, I now realize that the wing is no longer appropriate as the cornerstone of my personal food pyramid. Ordering a bucket of 50 extra-hots for dinner when the wife is out of town now seems the equivalent of wearing a baseball cap backward in public or calling another grown man “dude”--it’s just not done by men of a certain age.

Don’t get me wrong--once in a blue moon I still find myself yearning for the heady scent of crispy chicken in my nostrils and the slight forehead sweat that mark post-poultry euphoria. I had all but abandoned the idea that I’d ever be able to satisfy my cravings in public when I discovered the aptly named Buffalo Club in Santa Monica.

At the hands of chef Patrick Healy, the frat-boy staple gets an upscale twist. By pushing the meat down the bone and coating it with Japanese bread crumbs and Vietnamese chili sauce before cooking, he’s transformed the lowly wing into a kind of chicken lollipop that you can enjoy without having to deglaze your fingertips.

I finally have found a wing-man to grow old with. After a lifetime of a six-basket habit, there is an acceptable adult version of the chicken wing--one that can be noshed in mixed company, one that whispers “cocktail party” instead of screaming “kegger,” one that’s spicy to the taste but neat on the napkin.

If you’re not quite ready to hang up your bib, you can go out in a blaze of hot sauce glory at the National Buffalo Wing Festival (Sept. 3-5 in Buffalo, naturally). It is perhaps the perfect place to spread your wings one last time. Offerings include 100 versions of the dish from around the country, a wing-eating competition and a chance to bob for wings in blue cheese dressing. As for the Wing and I, when you’re done you can come join us at the grown-ups’ table.

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Buffalo Club Wings

Serves 4

10 large chicken wings

3/4 cup Tuong ot Toi Vietnamese chili sauce

2 tablespoons chipotle peppers in sauce

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon dried mustard

1/4 cup ketchup

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup cold water

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

1 teaspoon, plus 6 cups canola oil

3 egg whites, lightly beaten

1 1/2 cups panko (Japanese bread crumbs)

Cut the chicken wings at both joints, leaving three wing pieces. Discard the wing-tip piece. For the wing piece that attaches to the breast, scrape the meat down the bone from the smaller end until about a half inch of the bone is clean and exposed. For the middle wing piece, cut the very end of one side of the wing. Using a dish towel, push the meat down until both bones are partially exposed. Remove one of the bones by pulling it out with the help of a dish towel. When the chicken wings cook, the meat will pull downward even farther so that the wing resembles a lollipop.

Combine the chili sauce, chipotle peppers, sugar, salt, mustard, ketchup, cayenne, black pepper, cold water and white wine vinegar in a food processor and blend until smooth. Strain the marinade through a fine chinois into a bowl. Toss the wings in the marinade and leave them covered in the refrigerator for 48 hours.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Lightly grease a baking sheet with 1 teaspoon of canola oil, add the wings, leaving plenty of space between them, and bake for 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool to room temperature. Dip each wing in the lightly beaten egg whites, then dredge in the bread crumbs.

Heat 6 cups of canola oil in a heavy pot until it reaches 375 degrees. Carefully plunge the wings into the hot oil, frying them three or four at a time. Cook until they are golden brown, about 45 seconds, then drain on paper towels. Serve warm.