June 17, 2013 Comments Off on wings


C wandered in to the kitchen. “Can I hang out in here?” he asked, “I’m hiding.”
“Sure,” I told him. “What are you hiding from?”
“O. She’s watching My Little Pony again.”
This is a thing amongst the high school set. A show that was unwatchable by any kid except the horse/princess-obsessed three year old that she once was is now the coolest thing on TV. I cannot for the life of me understand this, but another thing is trying to eat a quarter cup of cinnamon dry. So I’m not sure which is worse.
“There are guys who are into it, too,” C told me. “They’re called brownies.”
“We had a name for guys like that in high school,” I told him. “But it wasn’t brownies.” C thought this was hilarious.
“I HEARD THAT,” shouted O from the other room. “DISAPPROVE.”
She approved of that plate up above, though. Grilled buffalo wings. Her request. I head back to Chicago for the better part of a week on Wednesday and they each got to pick a dinner. The boy picked pimiento Mac, which will be duly served tomorrow evening. By he didn’t object to her choice.
We hadn’t made these for a long time. They give me a slight panic attack, since most recipes involve coating deep fried wings in a sauce made mostly of butter. Over time I’ve figured out that you can cut down on the chicken fat by grilling them on the cool side first to render most of the skin before torching them over the hot side. And that the butter is completely unnecessary–tossing them in a bit of Frank’s red hot alone may not be authentic, but it’s not any less tasty. And you have a better chance of actually getting up from the table.
And the blue cheese dressing? Low fat Greek yogurt with reduced fat blue cheese crumbles. Needless to say, this was for me only. And if it wasn’t luscious and silky, it at least had the acid snap of the yogurt to go with the cheese.
O wanted French fries to go with these, of course, but we compromised on oven fries. Mix of fingerling potatoes, roasted at 375 degrees for half an hour, then tossed with a lemon vinaigrette and some sliced garlic. Another fifteen minutes and you get gently flavored potatoes and a whole mess of garlic chips.
All in all? Total clean plate club. And that’s after they demolished a bowl full of crudités in front of the TV beforehand (good trick, that…). They have been to the pool six of the last seven days, so they’ve been outside for three or four hours straight, in addition to the uphill walk home. They deserve some free range protein, some starchy carbs, and some spicy goodness,


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