Get your Buffalo Wild Wings to go -- or stay with screaming sports fans
I don't love sports -- unless you count roller derby, which holds more of a prurient interest -- and I really don't love sports fans. But I do love the kind of food that sports fans eat while watching games, especially chicken wings. There's nothing more satisfying than reeking up my kitchen with hot sauce for chicken wings -- except, that is, the mouth-burning sensation of eating them.
J. Wohletz Buffalo Wild Wings' blazin' wing sauce.
I happened to be in the south suburbs -- I know, right? -- when I spotted the Buffalo Wild Wings outpost at 8255 South Chester Street in Englewood, and decided it had been far too long since I'd had someone else make wings for me.
But I almost changed my mind after I walked in and heard the din. This location has an enormous dining room and huge take-out area, with big-screen televisions everywhere -- and diners yelling at those screens. I considered putting in my ear buds, but instead chatted with my server as I ordered jalapeno pepper bites, spinach artichoke dip, Asian Zing wings (mid-level heat) and the hottest wings on the menu: the Blazin' wings. "Are these really gonna burn, or is this 'blazin'' just a gimmick?" I asked my server, who assured me that the warning on the menu about keeping the blazin' sauce away from eyes, pets and children was totally legit.
J. Wohletz Huge TVs everywhere...
The wait for my meal seemed endless. The table of rabid fans next to me was making what my grandpa would refer to as "a ruckus," the fans across the room were yelling and slamming fists down on their table, and the big top of fans across from me was drinking like the world's supply of Bud Light was going to dry up in ten minutes.
J. Wohletz The spinach artichoke dip -- not enough dip, dammit!
I put in my ear buds.