I admit, I have an addiction.... *sob*

Hello, my name is Pat, and I am Buffalo wing addict. I crave them almost all the time (the only time I'm not craving them is when I just finished eating sixteen of them). The particular wings I crave are found at Wild Wing Cafe (Shameless plug), the hands-down best hot wings I have ever sloppily devoured in my life.

In particular I crave the heavenly crispy, yet juicy, spiciness of the little pieces of poultry parts slathered with 'Chernobyl' sauce provided by the various Wild Wing locations. Their Chernobyl sauce has achieved the perfect balance of spiciness, garlicity (is that a word?), and flavor that make all other wing sauces pale in comparison. If I'm feeling realy bold, I go for the next level of heat, 'China Syndrome'. Mmmmm..*drool*

My admission of addiction may come as no surprise to some of you, so I shall continue no further. But, in my zeal for wings, I stumbled across a paper written on the culture and history of the Buffalo wing, complete with distribution maps of wing dealers...errr...restaurants.

Yes, I finally did find the perfect match of Geography and hot wings. I have reached the proverbial Halls of Valahalla, as they say in Scandinavia.

Click and enjoy blue cheese gooeyed goodness.

Man I'm hungry.