Every now and then, at the franchise, someone will call up and request buffalo style wings … but they want them hotter than we usually provide them. Every now and then, we actually have the time and desire to grant that request.
We can’t do anything too elaborate, of course, after all, time = money. But tonight I was slightly ahead on my closing chores and figured it would be fun to have a guy burn his tongue off. That happened once, when I was a shift manager for one of this companies corporate locations, probably five years ago or so. The guy asked for “wings as hot as you can make ‘em!” and called back half an hour later, “Those wings were waaaay too hot!”
Actually, those wings were as hot as we could make them, as requested.
Also, of course, we’re limited to ingredients in the store to spice these wings up. Back in the day I actually kept a bottle of honey in the walk-in to add considerable flavor to wings. Honey buffalo wings were and always will be fuckin’ awesome.
(In Annapolis on Friday, eating at The Sly Fox, the three of us had chicken wings dipped in Thai sauce and they were truly delicious).
So, anyway, I’d decided to make this guy some hot(ter) wings. He’d requested that we chop some jalapeanos up on top, but of course, there’s nothing in the store that could be used to chop jalapeanos in the first place … and I also didn’t want to stop at just jalapeanos.
The wings are prepped before each shift and are kept wrapped in order of ten in tin-foil in either a small fridge next to the make-line or back in the walk-in. I grabbed a ten-pack, opened the foil, and placed it on a small pizza screen. I’d already cleaned the squeeze bottle we used for buffalo sauce, so I grabbed a pre-packaged hot sauce intended for the chicken nuggets. A quick spray of that across the wings, and I threw in some crushed red pepper for taste. I liberally doused the wings with juice from the jalapeano tub, then threw about a dozen of the peppers atop the wings. I put the wings in the oven for a cycle-and-a-half, and when they came out boy were they just screaming, “Your ass is going to remember us tomorrow!”
If the customer called back, I didn’t hear of his verdict of the wings. I know one thing — they’re hot. And his ass isn’t going to appreciate his stomach’s taste.
