Not since I heroically traversed the wilds of the Silk Road in western China in pursuit of a cheeseburger has my life had such purpose. This time I am tracking down authentic chicken wings. It took a couple weeks and several cities in the Great Cheeseburger Hunt, and it make take as long here. My first attempt was at the Captain's Arms on Friday, when Tony, Peter and I took the excellent Rafael out for fish & chips. Since none of them had actually had chicken wings, and, frankly, scoffed at the idea, I made it my goal to bend them to my will (sort of like the donkey wine adventure in China, but that is another story). Eventually they gave way and the chicken wings were fairly tasty, although they didn't have buffalo sauce. I may have to wait until a return trip to Burlington next summer before I am successful. And speaking of which, I don't know who is going to take my place in the chicken wings for charity competition this year. I'm sure the Gentlemen of Excellence will field a team and continue our support of the homeless shelter. Now, if they would move the event from Super Bowl Sunday to earlier in the season . . .
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