You should try the chicken. We're out, but you should try it.

Ramblings Post #395
I've always been the one to try the local shops around wherever it is I reside. Because sometimes it's that little spot off the beaten path, where they cook with a touch of love and creativity, or in some cases are just very happy to be there that the true gems are found. A little cafe with four booths and eight stools. A place that puts the cheese on after they put the toppings on. That one joint where the box is so heavy you've got to carry it with both hands lest your goodies spill out.

So I tried this "new" spot. First, it's a wing spot with no wings. The girl complaining as she left said that, but I didn't know what she meant until I was inside. Then the cashier even gets snippy me, not even looking up from his phone and tells me there is a worldwide shortage and nobody can get wings anywhere. I decide not to explain that my regular fish spot I went to the week before had them. And that this other spot with the great fries also had them. It's all they sell. But it might be that his supplier lied to them and I don't want to get into it.

Wait, let me back up.

I've started eating out more lately after a long period where, due to that silly pandemic thing, I cooked almost every night. No seriously, my freezer was stuffed and I tried out a whole bunch of things I normally would not have. I made different cheesy baked pastas, made what I'm going to call Chinese inspired dishes, switched up my seasonings and flavorings, fried different kids of fish, experimented briefly with different rices (um, no), mixed up my veggies, made fresh hamburgers by mixing meats (really, that should only be done by a butcher) and tried a thing or two I finally ate because I was the one that made it. That along with lots (read 'too much') of cookies and cakes, ice cream and the rest.

But finally, I just got tired of washing the pots. Because while you can throw out paper plates, there are no paper pots that I know of. If you know of some, please holla at me. I eat a lot less now because I don't want to clean. So, not to starve out of laziness, I started seeing what around me was still open and where I go dip in, get something and dip out. Masked up of course.

If you want to know how bad the pandemic is, consider that in Atlanta, the Waffle Houses now close. As close the doors and don't serve after a certain hour. Waffle Houses stay open during hurricanes. I weep.

But anyway the other week I found this spot, the name of which I'm not going to mention, on social media. The write up indicates one of the things that is different about the spot is that it hosts a small urban museum.  Which is a neat idea.

It's not too far from me, so after I've finished up my ranching duties I roll over that way and check it out. First, the music is loud. Like we're in the club loud. In a restaurant, and it's still daylight outside. There are no tables or chairs, duh, pandemic, but the art is still there. Only, the art didn't agree with me. What was billed as art proves the old adage 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder.' Okay, admittedly I grew up in the country, but my version of the "urban experience" is usually slightly cleaner. And would involve a lot less police tape. But it's really more down to personal preference and experience. And the artist was trying to make a statement. I guess. So there was that. Then we get to the aforementioned lack of wings in a wing spot. Then the cashier acting as though I was bothering him by showing up to get some food.  

Seriously, the wings thing bothers me. I could almost understand if we lived in say.... Chicago or maybe Butte, Montana. Because in Georgia, where I reside there are multiple chicken processing plants within reasonable driving distance. Multiple. The very idea that yard bird is not available around here borders on absolute lunacy. This is where the truck would stop first!

How is a wing spot out of WINGS?

So, they really didn't have any wings. But they did have chicken fingers. And I was trail busting hungry. So I got the fingers and a coney.

Okay, there really was only one good place to get a chili dog in Atlanta. Well, Marietta really. I used to go by every so often and get two with onions and fries. The chili wasn't too watery, the bun was warm with the seeds on it, the fries were crisp. It was all Chicago up in there, and swear that old guy behind the counter was always there. He must have slept in the walk-in freezer. Well, there was a spot in Sandy Springs but the sum of the parts didn't really make the whole. They tried valiantly, but it just wasn't it.  Sigh. Anyway, I would go up to Book Nook on a slow Saturday and spend a hour or so, then stop by the hot dog spot and enjoy my new finds. Memories.

You know what, I'm gonna let that coney go and just going to say the wing sauce was pretty good. I normally have to get my wings plain and sauce them at home - seriously. For the curious, Buffalo flavor is NOT medium. It has more butter. Their sauce, on the chicken fingers was pretty good. Tangy with just a taste of fire. I actually saved them and made a sandwich for lunch the next day.

So, bottom line? I still gotta try the wings. So I don't know.    

Barkeep. A Stella and book. Something bouncy. Do have anything with Calvin and Hobbs?