Dear Wild Wings Cafe,
I would like to cordially inform you that my husband and I will no longer be dining with you. Its nothing that you've done - Ben loves you...he just loves me better.....
Anyone who knows Ben, knows the man KNOWS hot wings. Ben loves them. Can't get enough of them. Its the final game of the NCAA Championship, the kickoff of Baseball, and Ben asked for hot wings. He was skeptical if I could make them.
"Honey, I just don't know if you have what it takes." He said as we stood at the poultry section of the grocery store.
I said nothing, just glared at the chicken wings - daring them to defy me.
We googled hot wings recipe. And, I began. I was tense. Nervous. This was make it or break it in my cooking career. First attempts haven't always been so glorious. But I ventured forth. Tense. Nervous. I made Lemon Pepper and Hot Wings.
Those wings weren't just good, they were melt-in-your-mouth, love-your-wife-forever, get-a-free-foot-rub good.
Ben apologized. He said he was sorry for ever doubting me. He said they were the best Lemon Pepper wings he had ever had. Ever. EVER.
Sorry, Wild Wing Cafe, you just lost a customer. A fan. His devotion for wings has moved closer to home.