Wings Dogs Wings Dogs Wings Dogs

Jess and I are going up to Buffalo for the weekend. A close friend of ours is in a show, and we want to support him. Plus, we haven't been to Buffalo in a few years, and it's time for a visit.

But as you might imagine, there's something else on my mind.

Oh, wings. How I love you. But not just any wings. Duff's Famous Wings. The best wings in all the land. And don't give me this shit about Anchor Bar having the best wings because they were invented there. It may be true that they indeed were created there, but I've been to Anchor Bar, and the wings simply aren't comparable. True, you get a nicer experience in terms of atmosphere when you go to Anchor Bar (because, frankly, Duff's is a shithole), but who's going for the ambiance? I'm going for the WINGS.

I admit it - I don't even get 'em hot. I get 'em wimpy. But for me, it's about the taste. I can't even describe it properly, but anybody who's been there will tell you that they're amazing.

You never forget your first time. Aaahhh. I was 18 and had just moved to Buffalo. I had never really eaten wings before. We pulled into the parking lot, and the smell of the wings made my eyes tear up and my nose run - before we even opened the car doors.

Everybody who works at Duff's wear the shirts.

And although I question why the word "is" needs to be underlined, they're not joking around. Anything below medium comes on a plate. Anything above medium comes in a bowl. It's pretty much soup at this point. Those wings will kick your ass, son.

I dream about these wings. In NYC, the only wings that come close are Atomic Wings, although they lose points for their wussy waffle fries. Only shoestrings should be served with wings. Nothing beats wings from Duff's, and I get to eat 'em this weekend. At their original location. (I know the website promotes their Toronto branch, and I don't get it either.)

"Will you only be eating wings in Buffalo," you ask? Hell, no. I'm not 19 anymore. I can't eat them more than once over the weekend without causing major havoc to my digestive system. No, we'll be mixing it up by visiting another one of our favorite eateries, Ted's. Having grown up in and around NYC with "dirty water dogs," I never believed that anything good could come of a hot dog being grilled until it was crispy and damn near black on the outside. But Ted's proved me wrong.


I get a footlong with mustard, sauerkraut and a pickle running along the dog/bun. Jess gets hers drenched in cheese. Then I get french fries (also shoestring and also unbelievable, like Duff's). I dip 'em in cheese sauce, then in ketchup. Don't knock it until you've tried it.

It's going to be a great weekend. I only pray my stomach can keep up with me. (During one of our very first trips back to Buffalo...well, let's just say it didn't. Bigtime.) Oh, and, uh, it'll be nice to see our friends up there, too.

Hungry yet?