Ain't No Thang But a Chicken Wing.

Matt's mom is from Buffalo, and every year on Thanksgiving they'd make the trip back north to visit family, and on the day after Thanksgiving they would order pizza and wings (mind you, this is BUFFALO) and Matt would eat approximately 789 wings.  Everyone would watch in awe.  When he got a little older, he went on a pilgrimage to the Anchor Bar, the home of the original Buffalo wing.  He cried a little, and proceeded to eat his weight in chicken wings.*

I can wax nostalgic about this topic, too, because for three years during college I worked at Buffalo Wild Wings, slinging beer and meat about.  I actually didn't eat wings when I started working there, but I've never really been one to turn down free food, so it wasn't too long before I was hiding in the back of the kitchen, gnawing on chicken bones with wing sauce all over my face.  Just like the lady I am.

You can imagine, then, how easy it was to woo Matt.  All I had to do was show up at his door with a bucket of 50 or 100 leftover wings from work at 2:30 a.m. (after he'd been playing beer pong all night), and immediately I rocketed up to super girlfriend status.  (But let's be honest--I was pretty much already as high as one could reach on the super girlfriend scale.)

And tonight Matt got to cross something off of his bucket list, because we made wings.  Really really really delicious wings.  What was extra cool was that they were easy, albeit time-consuming.

If you're a wing lover like we are, or if you're looking to wow people at a Super Bowl party in the near future, give these a try. 

Ingredients
Chicken wings, room temperature
Frank's Wing Sauce (or whatever wing sauce you prefer)
Vegetable Oil

Directions
1. Fill a deep pan (we used the dutch oven) with 2 inches of oil.  Heat oil on medium heat (don't get all impatient and turn it up to high or you'll end up burning your wings) until it reaches 350 degrees.

2.  With tongs, place--don't drop!--wings in the oil in a single layer.  (Be careful not to cook too many at once.)  Cook wings until they float.  We like our really crispy, so we let them cook for almost ten minutes after they began to float.

3.  Remove wings from oil and transfer to a large bowl.  Toss in sauce. 

4.  (optional)  Place sauced wings on a baking sheet and bake in the oven at 350 for about five minutes. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go wipe some sauce off my face.

*That was a lie.  Matt didn't cry.  I've never seen him cry because he's dead inside.

Vending Machine Opus

One day when I was a little kid, I walked by a soda machine and pushed one of the buttons just to see if I could get a free drink. And wouldn't you know it, I did? I hadn't put in any money, but I got a free Coke. And so began my love affair with the vending machine.

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This love affair continued through middle school, where I learned strategies to get more free snacks. These strategies mostly included shaking, kicking, and otherwise abusing the machine, only to get a bag of Skittles to fall out.

As I got older, I learned that there was karma involved in vending machines. On more than one occasion I was the victim of vending machine vandalism. I would pay for my snack, but the coils would turn on an empty space, and I would get no snack. Vending machine karma.

So I stopped abusing the machines. I was wiser and more mature, and I would be a decent citizen of the world. Part of being a decent citizen means not kicking vending machines.

When I went off to JMU, my whole universe began to open up. I had new friends and new opportunities, but, just as fascinating, I also had a new wide world of vending machines to enjoy. These machines included hot chocolate machines, machines that gave fountain soda with crushed ice, french fry machines, ice cream machines, and more. The snacks and beverages in these machines were far superior to anything I had experienced before. AND, I could use my meal plan to buy the stuff. No cash required, just my JMU ID. It was. . .amazing.

Ocean Spray ruby red grapefruit juice was one of my favorites; it was great for breakfast and it was good with cheap vodka.

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In my old age, though, my vending machine interactions have become much less enchanting. In fact, about 30% of the time I seek sustenance from a vending machine these days, the experience ends in disappointment, frustration.

The only vending machines I really patronize are those at my school, and the snack machine is about ten years older than I am. It won't take dollar bills--not even the super crispy ones!--and half of the buttons don't work. And the soda machine has just as bad a performance record even though it is brand new.

And why don't these machines work? I imagine that it's because they live in a place full of obnoxious teenagers, and we all know that teenagers are notorious for vending machine abuse. Just wait until they experience vending machine karma. They'll rue the day!