FileTitle: Prose467.html
Category: Humor
Type: Prose
Description: Buffalo Wings, Long, Good Writing style
Many people have asked me for my recipe for hot wings. I don't know why -- I
can't cook. But I guess being from Buffalo means carrying an albatross or
two, so here it is:

HOW THIS BUFFALOON ENJOYS HOMEMADE WINGS:

Start with some chickens, preferably dead ones. If they have feathers,
remove them (the feathers, not the chickens). If they don't, you're already
two steps ahead of the game.

Meanwhile, heat up some oil in a pot large enough to hold the oil and some
chicken parts. (Crisco, Mazola and Peanut work okay; Kendall, Valvoline and
Quaker State don't.)

Now, go back to where your dead, featherless chickens are and cut or pull
the wings off. Keep the wings and throw out the rest of the chickens. You
won't need them (the chickens, not the wings -- you will need the wings).
Cut each wing
into three sections: the "Tip", the "Drumstick" and the "Flat Thing". You
can throw out the wing tips (the chicken, not the shoes) because they aren't
much good for anything. Only non-Buffaloons eat 'em.

(On second thought, you can throw out the shoes, too -- or give them to
Goodwill. Unless you happen to be extremely conservative, in which case you
wouldn't consider eating wings in the first place, so why are you reading
this?!)

Wipe your hands on your pants. Go into the bedroom and strip all the bedding
off the bed except the sheet with the elastic stuff that holds it tightly to
the mattress. Toss the rest of the bedding on the floor in the corner. Turn
on the radio and/or TV and tune it to your favorite program. Adjust the
volume to a comfortable listening level.

Go back into the kitchen (or wherever you prepare your food). The oil should
now be heated to around 350 degrees (Although I'm guessing ... my
thermometer only goes up to 106). Stand about five feet away from the pot
and toss the Drumsticks and Flat Things, one at a time, into the pot. The
pot should come alive with the bubbling, boiling, hissing, and screaming of
raw, moist, cold poultry parts being plunged into an environment in which
their temperature is raised instantly by hundreds of degrees. If this
doesn't happen, you probably turned on the wrong burner and your wife's
favorite, very expensive, decorative, empty teapot is now irreparably scorched.

Now, get another pot (a smaller one than the one with the oil in it). Remove
your wife's scorched teapot from the stove and throw it out (the teapot, not
the stove). Put the empty pot (the one without the oil in it) on the burner.
Put some butter on it (the pot, not the burner). Melt the butter. Put in
Frank's Louisiana Red Hot or Tobasco to make the sauce mild, medium or hot.
To make it Nuclear/Jeezuz-Kee-Riced, put in some Wild Bill Hickory's
Habernero Hot Sauce With A Half-Life (Caution: Not for the weak of heart or
stomach!)

By now or after five minutes, whichever is first or second, the wings in the
pot with the oil should be golden brown, which we all know is non-sequitur
because gold is not brown. They are, in fact, two different colors.

Take the pot (the one with the oil and the wings, not the butter) into the
back yard and dump its contents on the lawn. (Unless you can figure out how
to get the wings out of the boiling oil without burning yourself and
slopping oil all over the kitchen, thereby raising the Wrath of Wife --
again.) Pick up the wings and wipe off the grass clippings. Leave the pot
outside to cool. Carry the wings back into the kitchen (or wherever you
prepare your food.) Wipe your hands on your pants.

Get a Cool Whip container. The large size works best. If it still has Cool
Whip in it, scoop out the Cool Whip and throw it away (the Cool Whip, not
the container). Wipe the container clean with your hand, and wipe your hand
on your pants.

Put the butter sauce and the wings into the Cool Whip container and close
the lid tightly. Dance around with the container, pretending you're Michael
Jackson (but don't grab your crotch -- you need both hands to hold the lid
closed), until the wings are completely covered with the sauce.

Go into the backyard and dump the contents of the Cool Whip container onto
the same spot where you dumped the oil. (It should be easy to see -- there
won't be any grass there. And you'll know it's sterile, because nothing can
live where there's an oil dump.)

Pick up the wings and carry them into the room where you prepare your food.

Get some celery sticks, a roll of paper towels, a jar of Marie's Bleu (sic)
Cheese Dressing, a dinner plate (which, if you're like me, is probably used
for other meals as well), and some beers.

Put the wings on the dinner/other-meals-too plate. Balance the items (listed
in above paragraph) on your arms and hands and walk into the bedroom.

Arrange the items in a neat semi-circle on the mostly bedding-less bed. Sit
cross-legged on the bed inside the semi-circle. Perform the following acts:

  1. Gulp a mouthful of beer and swill it around in your mouth to cleanse
your palette.
  2. Swallow the beer.
  3. Dip either a drumstick or a flat thing (but not both) into the Marie's
Bleu (sic) Cheese Dressing.
  4. Put almost the entire wing into your mouth, leaving just enough outside
to get a good grip on it.
  5. Clamp down with your teeth.
  6. Using both hands, pull the wing out of your mouth while maintaining
enough jaw (clamping) pressure to strip the meat from the bone(s). You know
you've done it right if the bone(s) come(s) out all by it  (them)self(ves);
i.e. sans meat.
  7. Toss the bone(s) into the corner. You get a point for each wing bone(s)
that stay(s) on the bedding; no points for bones that fall to the floor.
  8. Chew.
  9. Savor the combined aural, visual and culinary sensations of the
TV/Radio and stuff you cooked.
 10. When the stuff in your mouth is ground to a semi-liquid -- and you're
bordering on sensory overload -- swallow.
 11. Pick up a celery stick and throw it on the bedding. We Buffaloons never
eat the celery. It's just there to make us feel guilty about the cholesterol
we're ingesting.
 12. Wipe your hands on your pants.
 13. Tear off a clean paper towel and wipe it on your pants in the same spot
where you just wiped your hands.
 14. Crumple the paper towel into a little ball and toss it on the floor in
the corner.
 15. Repeat steps 1 - 14 until the dinner/other-meals-too plate contains
nothing but smears of greasy red sauce.
 16. Put the remaining bottle(s) of beer on the floor.
 17. Using a broad sweeping motion, push the celery, dinner/other-meals-too
plate, Marie's Bleu (sic) Cheese Dressing, and paper towels onto the floor.
 18. Pick up a beer and lay back, using the wall or headboard as a pillow.
 19. Drink beer, enjoy the TV/radio and burp as necessary.

Enjoy step 19 while you can, because within a few minutes your wife, son,
daughter, mother, or conscience will make you get up and clean your bedroom.
-- Rick Johnston