Baked Chicken Wings
As a kid, I despised football. It embodied the ultimate in virile maleness I’d never attain. Back then, if you were gay, you were “light in the loafers” as our grandfathers would say. Even attempting to learn football would have exposed the not-man-enough I was. Therefore, I wanted nothing to do with it.
It never occurred to me that you could be gay and enjoy sports. I was a band geek, twirling a rifle no less. The enemy was those dumb jocks. The jarheads. They distracted from the main event, the halftime show. They were the filler between fun commercials. Players on the gridiron meant hit the hotdog stand or peruse the spread in the dining room.
But during and after college, despite myself, and ever so slowly, I somehow caught the football bug. It started with me wanting to share something my Dad enjoyed. Fast forward to today, I’m all in. Watching football is fun and exciting. Even riveting.
Now, I get uber excited for the season and bummed when it’s over. And it’s not just the tight pants and man-on-man action. There’s so much to the game. Strategy, complex plays, and referees to yell at. Why didn’t I see this before?! The guys with the black smears on their cheeks aren’t dumb, they’re brilliant.
I can even pass the pigskin with a nice spiral (if the goal of said spiral is end-over-end, front to back). But don’t you ever throw in my direction expecting anything other than a scream and a duck. But still, yay me!
If I had a life do-over, I wish I had played. Or at least waterboy-ed. Or medical cart massaged. Like the kid I once taught in high school band. He was a huge linebacker, who quickly changed in and out of uniforms to play tuba in the half time show. I can totally see myself. Running in slow motion. The crowd cheering. Shedding my pads and helmet, as I grab my streamered rifle to perform the theme from Ice Castles.
Nowadays, I find there’s no better way to spend time with friends than at a football gathering. And it’s the best American fare has to offer. Like chili, and nachos, and buffalo chicken dip. Oh my!
So this month, I’m highlighting an awesome recipe for wings. The preparation involves a thin layer of baking powder. I know that’s an odd twist. But you’ll find this technique all over the internet, even America’s Test Kitchen. And it works, delivering amazing, restaurant-worthy wings. Your guests will blitz the bowl.
Let get started, shall we?
STEPS
Preheat oven to 450°. Cut a piece of parchment or foil to cover the bottom of your biggest baking sheet. Then generously grease with baking spray or some canola oil.
Using paper towels, pat dry 2.5 pounds of chicken wings. Then, toss them in a large bowl with 1 Tbl of baking powder (not baking soda).
Spread the wings on the prepared sheet leaving space between each. Then, bake them for 35 minutes, flipping them over halfway through.
Meanwhile, melt 3 Tbls salted butter with ⅓ cup of your favorite hot or wing sauce.
Your wings are done when they’re a little crispy and browned. Sprinkle them with a touch of sea salt and let them rest for five minutes.
Toss the wings with the sauce, then serve with celery stalks and a side of ranch or blue cheese dressing.
TIPS
• You’re shooting for wings that have some crunch outside but are tender and juicy inside. This nirvana is achieved by ensuring the skin is as dry as possible before applying the baking powder.
• So many people never use the convection setting on their ovens. Now is the perfect time! Reduce the temperature to 425°. You can even skip the flipping if you set the wings on a well-greased baking rack. Personally, I don’t like my husband having another thing to clean.
• A word about clock management: if you think the wings aren’t done, they’re not. You want the skin to caramelize. Wait...for...it! Fear not about drying them out, because heck, they’re covered in a spicy sauce and dipped in dressing.
In closing,...E-A-G-L-E-S...Eagles!!! ▼
Ed and his husband Jerry split their time between homes near Harrisburg Pennsylvania and Bethany Beach. Ed builds websites to pay the bills but loves to cook, garden, hike, and dote on their dog Atticus. Recipe requests and feedback welcome: ed@seasalttable.com.