Saturday, December 28, 2013

And Dance by the Light of the Moon

The skyline of Buffalo glowed green, white, and red with holiday lights tonight as we made our way into the city. In all the years I have been visiting this town, I have had wings from several places, but somehow I have missed out on their original birthplace. The Anchor Bar is located in downtown Buffalo, a bit of a distance from Heidi's folks, and maybe that is why.

Last summer while he was here from Mississippi visiting his grandparents, our 13-year-old nephew, Kyle, texted me from the Anchor Bar. Next time ur here will u try suicide wings with me? 

Sure, I replied and promptly forgot.

Tonight he haled me from the back seat the minute the car pulled up outside the airport. "Ready for those wings?"

My answer was the same. "Sure," I told him.

The place had atmosphere in spades. Warm tangy air rushed to meet us as we pushed open the door, and vanity license plates from all over the world adorned the walls. Rather than one large dining room, there were several connected rooms leading away from the old barroom and each other like cozy chambers in a rabbit warren with colored holiday lights and neon bar signs combining to festively light each one. 

At 7 PM on Saturday night, there was a bit of a wait for a table, and I occupied my time deciphering some of the trickier license plates. BFLOGAL took me a minute, and then I wondered who would ever give that one up once they had it?

The wings? They were pretty darn hot, but Kyle and I held our own, with the help of blue cheese, celery, and beer for me, and bread and water for him. The fries weren't bad, either.

2 comments:

  1. Would Jordan think they were hot? Are there any hotter?

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    1. They were pretty hot, and they got hotter as you ate. I think Jordan would think so, too.

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