Lewis Black said that he watches the Super Bowl, not because he likes football, but because he isn't religious and humans need tradition. Personally, I enjoy all kinds of to-do, and I'll jump on almost any kind of event that allows me to get people together and eat certain things in celebration. Combine that tendancy with my love of sports, and it's hard for me to let a Super Bowl go by without some kind of beer-intensive gathering.
Yesterday I made the food that is to sports and beer as turkey is to Thanksgiving-- buffalo wings. The process was simple, albeit a little messy, as deep frying tends to be if you don't own a splatter guard. The chicken wings get cut up and deep-fried in 350-ish degree oil.
When they're cooked through and crispy, the wings are briefly drained and tossed with spicy buffalo sauce (a straightforward production of Frank's or Louisiana hot sauce, butter, and some extra cayenne if you're a bit of a masochist).
Since I cut up the wings before the game started, the whole frying and tossing part took me about half an hour, meaning it was a perfect distraction from the traditionally lame Half Time Show. I served them up with homemade blue cheese dressing and some carrot and celery sticks. Honestly, they were easy enough that I don't understand why I've had so many terrible, greasy, too-sweet or wierdly sticky wings in restaurants and bars.
Mine were crisp and spicy, delighfully messy, and pleasing in that visceral way that only really tacky food can be. There seems to be something special about the combination of peppery, vinegary sauce cooled off with a slather of blue cheese. Or maybe people just like to eat with their fingers. Either way, they were a perfect fit for this particular to-do.
(Added bonus: Don't Glyn and Stephen look manly eating wings and watching football?)
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