It's a quintessential origin myth for any iconic bar food: what to feed hungry boys really fast, before they raid what's left of your refrigerator.
In this case, Bellissimo fried up some wings, doused them in hot sauce and served them with what she happened to have on hand: blue cheese dressing and celery. It was a definitive moment for sports food -- and for Buffalo, which has had to compensate for a lot. Think Scott Norwood. Think O.J.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Tuesday February 07, 2006 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 3 inches; 122 words Type of Material: Correction
Super Bowl food -- An article in Wednesday's Food section about food to serve while watching the Super Bowl incorrectly described the recipe for Buffalo wings at Anchor Bar in Buffalo, N.Y. The article said Anchor Bar fries the chicken wings, pours Frank's RedHot sauce on them and offers bottled blue cheese dressing on the side. In fact, the Buffalo wings there are cooked, then tossed with a proprietary sauce that comes in four flavors; the blue cheese dressing is made in-house. Also, retired football player Mean Joe Greene's last name was misspelled as Green. Additionally, an accompanying article describing Frank's RedHot sauce incorrectly stated that this sauce is the "secret ingredient" behind Anchor Bar's wings, which are not made with it.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Wednesday February 08, 2006 Home Edition Food Part F Page 7 Features Desk 3 inches; 122 words Type of Material: Correction
Super Bowl food -- An article in last Wednesday's Food section about food to serve while watching the Super Bowl incorrectly described the recipe for Buffalo wings at Anchor Bar in Buffalo, N.Y. The article said Anchor Bar fries the chicken wings, pours Frank's RedHot sauce on them and offers bottled blue cheese dressing on the side. In fact, the Buffalo wings there are cooked, then tossed with a proprietary sauce that comes in four flavors; the blue cheese dressing is made in-house. Also, retired football player Mean Joe Greene's last name was misspelled as Green. Additionally, an accompanying article describing Frank's RedHot incorrectly stated that this sauce is the "secret ingredient" behind Anchor Bar's wings, which are not made with it.
The published recipes for the original wings called for fried wings slathered with a happily toxic combination of Frank's RedHot Sauce (an old saloon staple), vinegar and butter.
But when I called the Anchor Bar last week, the cook on duty said that they didn't do that anymore.
Nowadays, Anchor's cooks just fry up the wings, pour Frank's RedHot Sauce on them, and offer bottled blue cheese dressing on the side.
Although there's a beautiful economy of motion (not to say ingredients) in that, the genius of the dish comes through much better when you go back to the original recipe, then recast it to achieve peak performance.
Buffalo wings work because of the way the aspects of the dish play off each other: crunchy fried wings, incendiary sauce, crisp celery, and the almost incongruous sophisticated depth of the blue cheese.
So make your own dressing, with homemade mayonnaise, a farmstead or other high-quality blue cheese (Maytag blue is a classic), buttermilk and garlic, and combine them into something that can hold its own against a bowlful of wings.
The difference in taste will be like the difference between, well, some Division 1 front lines and the ones the Seahawks and the Steelers will be fielding this Sunday.
You can amp up your beer-battered shrimp too. Instead of a heavy-duty batter that pads the shrimp till they resemble defensive players, make a lighter, crispier crust -- one that complements the taste of the seafood instead of burying it -- by using a good, full-bodied amber ale (we use Seattle's Red Hook, but Pittsburgh fans have their choice of microbrews too). The ale adds more depth of flavor than club soda or Pabst; a little cornmeal adds body.
Unless you live in Detroit, you're probably not tailgating this one, but you can give your guests something to gnaw on by making delicious oven-roasted ribs.
Marinated overnight with some extra brown sugar (to honor those Stones) and Kentucky Bourbon, the ribs have a depth and heat to them that many traditional ribs -- drowned in ketchup or barbecue sauce, the flavors masked under a layer of charcoal -- don't escape with.
