Posted on September 20, 2012 Chandler, Reviews |
It’s quite ugly, until the gaudy neon outside lights up and makes it…still ugly.
Credit myspace.com (seriously)
UPDATE: Draft House on the Reef has now changed their name to just “The Reef”. Good call.
If I made up my own religion, wings would be the holy food. In lieu of a sabbath, we’d have the Sauce-bath as a day of reverence to worship the mighty buffalo wing and praise it for all it has bestowed upon us. The mighty chicken wing delivers us from anorexia, crisp from the oils of heaven and bathed in a sauce with the heat of hell itself to remind us of our sins as we eat of the body of Chicken-Christ our savor…err, savior.
Yes, if I started my own religion, buffalo wings would be the meatsiah, and the Draft House on the Reef may well be the rock upon which I build my church.
Draft House on the Reef had long been on our list of places to eat wings. So long, in fact, that we had it on the list before the “on the Reef” part existed. Back then it was just Draft House, and was known for its clientele, a mixture of chunky skanks wearing clothes three sizes too small for themselves and guys trying to gangbang (while reppin’ Chandler), and it was apparently an awful cacophony of underboob-cheese smell and Cool Water cologne. This all culminated in someone getting shot a couple of years back, which is sad but not unexpected when people who try too hard to act too hard get shot down too hard by women (that also try too hard) and thus have no chance to use their hard-ons, get hard feelings, do something hard-headed and end up doing hard time.
Posted on September 13, 2012 Reviews, Tempe |
Xavvi and I first met when we were in the same training class at work. The training class lasted six weeks and the very last day happened to be on our company’s holiday party. We were working that night so we missed most of the party but a bunch of us wanted to do something to celebrate our last day of training anyway and decided to meet up at Casey Moore’s Oyster House instead. I actually swung by the holiday party anyway to snag a couple drinks with my free drink tickets (my wife let me have her drink tickets too) and then we were on our way to the bar.
I don’t ever remember going to Casey Moore’s before that night. I was always aware of it and it seems odd to me that I had never been there since I had hung out in that area many times before. If I had ever been to Casey Moore’s before that night, I don’t have any memory of it. Really, given how things can go at Casey Moore’s I suppose it is entirely possible that I just don’t remember a previous visit.
That last night of training was a great introduction to the place. We drank a LOT of drinks and generally made fools of ourselves. Eventually my wife had had enough and we headed home with me puking out the window of the car the whole way, presumably. It was a damn fun night though and I have liked the place a lot ever since.
Posted on September 6, 2012 Chandler, Reviews |
I assume the “ATL” stands for “Peace up, A-Town…Lown”
Have you ever turned on one of those techno or dubstep stations on Pandora, listened for a while, and then stopped paying attention until an hour later when it finally dawned on you that it wasn’t actually one hour long song, it was several similar songs with not much variation between them? What happens is you get lost in the repetitive and almost monotonous rhythms until something stands out to you, something different and not so full of wub-wubz and fax machine sounds. It’s a breath of fresh air because it’s in the same category, it has many of the same attributes, but it approaches the art form from a different viewpoint and ends up being far more memorable for how it does things than what it does.
Also, it wasn’t made by a guy that looks like a mop.
“wub wub wub wub wuuuuuuuub” – Skrillex
Posted on August 30, 2012 Gilbert, Reviews |
We were excited when we got to go to Wingstock in Mesa this year. For one thing, it was an all day event centered around hot wings and they were serving beer. What’s not to love about that? Secondly, we got in free with some media passes because we were running this blog which was enough of a glimpse at legitimacy to feed our egos.
More importantly, we were introduced to quite a few new hot wing places all at once. A lot of them struggled to deliver quality wings given the circumstances (its hard to attempt to recreate anything resembling your restaurant’s kitchen under an awning at Mesa Amphitheatre), some places didn’t even really try (I’m looking at you Antar’s), but some of them really came out strong. Teakwoods and Long Wong’s were good as always. Jimbo’s was a good new place we discovered. NY Boyz was killing it like they always do. Cogburn’s was right in the middle of it with the best of them.
If I remember correctly Cogburn’s was the second place we tried at Wingstock (he first being Fat Willie’s, who had some pretty mediocre wings and had us thinking we might be in for a disappointment for the day). Cogburn’s dispelled that idea. We had never heard of Cogburn’s before Wingstock but they impressed us at their booth quickly. They were very friendly, they seemed like they gave a shit about what they were doing, and they seemed genuinely happy to be serving us some wings. They also gave us some free sunscreen which was a nice touch and much needed since we didn’t bring any of our own.
Posted on August 24, 2012 Chandler, Reviews |
If it was SLCPD, we’d have been arrested on sight.
Photo Credit: gotime.com
We were called “wing snobs” very recently by someone who had read our Native New Yorker article and didn’t particularly agree with our stance on their breaded wings (our stance is “fuck breaded wings” in case you missed it). Never mind the fact that WE called ourselves wing snobs in that very article, this fellow saw it fit to demean us by saying we were pretentious about hot wings; that is, he thinks we as writers try to impress you as readers by acting like we’re better than we really are or that we act like we have more importance than we truly possess.
The thing is, just how snobby can one be while their hands and face are drenched in hot sauce and they’re ripping chicken meat from the bone with their teeth? How much could we hope to impress anyone out there when we’re basically killing ourselves with cholesterol and liquor and getting fatter by the week just to make this thing happen? While Tyler and I like to call ourselves Wing Snobs in a self-deprecating manner, the fact is that we’re still just average shitheads who like wings and beer, as I would imagine you all do…at least, I hope you like wings and beer. Otherwise, why are you reading this? Are you stalking me? Are you that guy that keeps taking pictures outside my window while I’m changing and mailing me the Polaroids with a lock of your hair and a note that says “Let’s have a tea party”? …I’m sorry, it’s been a weird week.
My point is that we’re not being pretentious, because that would indicate that we’re trying to impress you and it’s quite the opposite. It’s not that we’ve gotten the equivalent of a Harvard education in Buffalo Wings and we’re trying to talk down to you all while we teach you about them. It’s that we’ve trekked to the Hot Wing Nepal to seek Buffalo-enlightenment and come back spiritually awakened, and now we’re out to spread the good word about how much better your wing-life could be if you too followed the ways of the Spicy Chicken Buddha.
Posted on August 21, 2012 Reviews, Tempe |
When we first came up with the idea of writing a wing blog we really didn’t know shit about wings. Sure, we loved hot wings but we didn’t know what makes a really great wing. It’s like drinking the boxed wine before you develop a taste for the real stuff or drinking Coor’s Light before you can appreciate quality craft beers. Basically, we enjoyed wings but we weren’t the wing snobs that our hot wing journey would eventually create. It is as bad as it sounds.
Before the blog we visited the more well known spots like Long Wong’s and even ventured into the ugly corporate hot wing world that is Hooters or Buffalo Wild Wings occasionally but we each had our regular spots we would hit up for wings. As we discussed in last week’s review The Vine was where Xavvi usually found himself when looking for a night of wings, and I was no stranger to the place myself, but Native New Yorker was my go-to place. This was based on my impressions at the time that they had solid wings and there always ends up being a location not too far away from where I lived.
Post-wing-blog our expectations from Phoenix area wing joints had changed dramatically. We had experienced many highs and lows in our exploration of the many hot wings places and we had definitely broadened our horizons. Coming back to some of our old stomping grounds was a good way to measure how these expectations have changed over time. The Vine lived up to its reputation with good, if somewhat small, wings with great sauce (and its reputation for being a dive bar with cheap beer). The very next week we found ourselves back at another old favorite when we visited Native New Yorker.
Posted on August 9, 2012 Reviews, Tempe |
Photo Credit: gotime.com
[Note: This review is for the Rural & Elliott Vine location, though we also visited the Apache location and found the wings and beer to be identical and the atmosphere to be more bro-tastic. If college is your thing, do the Apache location. If Happy Hour is your thing, do the Elliott location. If you’re not in AZ…why the hell are you reading this?
You just can’t go wrong with the classics…unless of course the classics actually suck and you’re just letting nostalgia blind you. Such is the case with things like the 80’s GI Joe cartoons, the Howard the Duck movie, Ecto-Cooler (fuck you, it’s slime), sugar sandwiches, the two rap songs on the Beavis and Butthead Do America soundtrack and a million other things I loved as a younger person that ended up being fairly shitty once I grew up and looked back at them.
Before we were Phoenix Wing Crusaders on a mission, we were just fat schlubs eating wings wherever we could get them. Granted, we’re still just fat schlubs eating wings, but that’s beside the point. The point is, The Vine was one of the few places we ate at (pre-WhyDidIEatThis.com) that I still had fond memories of, and I was terrified of going back there and finding out it wasn’t how I remembered.
Posted on August 2, 2012 Phoenix, Reviews |
In the three weeks preceding our visit to CK’s Tavern and Grill in Ahwatukee we were having wings from Half Moon, Arcadia Tavern, and Rino D’s. Three weeks in a row of forgettable, mediocre wings. Spoiler alert: CK’s brought that to a total of four weeks in a row.
Four fucking weeks in some kind of hot wing purgatory. After all the excellent places we had been to in the past this quality hot wing drought was kicking my ass. All we wanted were some great hot wings and some good, cheap beer. CK’s delivered on the latter but our quest for superb wings had ended in failure again.
The thing is that the wings were not even actually all that bad. They were nothing special about them but I remember thinking at the time they were pretty solid. Now I just remember them as mediocre. Maybe it is just me. Maybe solid hot wings just don’t cut it anymore. Maybe I have reached a whole new level of wing-snobbery. I don’t know.
Posted on July 26, 2012 Phoenix, Reviews |
Their logo designer failed astronomy.
If you listen to the radio at any time on any given day, you’ll notice two things: One, you’ll notice that it’s awful. Two, you’ll hear a Maroon 5 song. It’s inescapable, you ARE going to hear one. If you ever turn on the radio and flip around and don’t hear one, you can take it as a sign of the impending apocalypse. One can recognize them by the incredibly shitty falsetto of the lead singer and the completely dull and unmemorable nature of the song. For some reason, people love this lifeless crap and for the life of me I can’t understand why.
After leaving Half Moon, I realized that this phenomenon of people loving dull things is not limited to music alone.
I went once and was not impressed, but that was years ago. It could have been the prices, or it could have been the coiffed-hair touting mid-30s fellows lounging in there (not quite Affliction bros,they were more of the 401K and stocks-talk variety ) which doesn’t really jive with my style, because I am fat and eat hot wings. Plus, I didn’t even go into the bar that night, I went to the sit-down restaurant portion of Half Moon which seemed to be half sports bar, half contemporary ski lodge. (more…)