Like some chileheads (this IS the correct spelling, despite what some may say) out there, there is seldom a substitute for good chicken wings when you’re in the mood for them. Sometimes you don’t even need a good excuse…football game, family get-togethers, Bar Mitzvahs, etc.

Needless to say, we’ve patronized Buffalo Wild Wings (BW3) for quite a while. They are a national chain, so it’s fairly easy to find a local wing-ery (yes, it’s a new word) near where you live. Since moving to Ohio a few months ago, we must have crossed some imaginary line where their wings went from being fairly decent to total suck-age. We usually don’t bitch & moan too much like this, but lately it’s been bad. One one recent visit, Joe picked up a take out order of wings for dinner…Wild for Joe and Medium for Linda. Don’t know how they managed it, but the Mild was hotter and better-tasting than the Wild. In fact, our 3 year-old could have eaten the so-called Wild wings. On another visit, we opted to get the Blazin’. Finally, some heat…but this one tasted like they had added extract to it.


WTF? Are there teams of monkeys working in their kitchens or what??!

That, plus the fact that they have occasionally “forgotten” to include parts of our order has sent BW3 to the bottom of our list for wings. Redemption will be slow in coming, since there are way too many places here in Columbus (dare we say Quaker Stake & Lube?) to try before giving BW3 a chance again.

Freedom of Choice. Devo had it right a long time ago.

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