Hooter’s Wings? Legend Debunked (for the Millionth Time)

13 Dec

I have a confession to make.  I went to Hooter’s for the first time.

I wasn’t forced.  I wasn’t dared.  And I certainly wasn’t tricked (unlike the time I agreed to dine at Skoot’s Hamburgers, having no prescience of the waitstaff’s Hooter’s-esque dress code).  I won a certificate for a free order of wings at a poker tournament.  The curious cheapskate inside got to me.  Why does every guy I know try so hard to justify their visits to Hooter’s by praising the chicken wings? 

So there I was, one of the few female diners at the Arlington Hooter’s on this Saturday night, trying to tune out the enthusiastic LSU fans celebrating yet another one of the football team’s last minute victories this season and second guessing my destination for dinner.  Waitress, a pint of Blue Moon to ease the awkwardness, please.

The wings:


The verdict:

Even though the order was a mix of mild and spicy, I couldn’t distinguish which was which as each wing had the same amount of heat.  Despite the lack of spiciness, the sauce had nice flavor.  The wings were greasy but had a crisp skin.  It’s not my favorite chicken wing, but it really ain’t half bad.

I will say this, the waitress was one of the friendliest I’ve ever encountered.  I was offered another beer when my glass was a third full.  Water and ranch dressing refills were offered at least twice during the meal.  “You need extra napkins, hon?” 

But telling someone that you frequent Hooter’s because the service is nice can easily be interpreted the wrong way.  So yeah, I guess the boys will have to stick to the good wings story.

4 Responses to “Hooter’s Wings? Legend Debunked (for the Millionth Time)”

  1. FatCap 12/14/2007 at 6:53 am #

    Well, let’s see. Wings ain’t exactly gourmet, even though Hooters’ version is quasi-French/Southern, on account of dem bein’ flour’ed, then deep fried, then tossed in a melted butter sauce (you know, like a spicy beurre blanc, except without the white wine and shallots and with, say, harissa kicked in). They serve beer and booze. They have TVs. They have a pretty darned decent beef quesadilla and buffalo chicken sandwich for when I’m just not in the mood for wangs. They even used to have off-the-menu secrets that only those “in the know” order: before the highest heat-factor designation, Bentley, appeared on the menu, it was a badge of courage, of sorts, among diehards (Nowadays, “double-dipped Bentley” is the new badge). With all that going for it, would I rather have my grease in this kind of friendly environment, where my “dawgs” and I can have what I call the “full testosterone bitchin’-and-whinin'” experience (usually about how much our jobs stink and how we’re underpaid or about how much of a nag our wives and girlfriends are–in my case, about having neither, or about how corrupt guv’ment is), with beer and food served by friendly waitresses, or would I have the same served up by some hung-over, beer-bellied, identity-searching-as-evidenced-by-his-ridiculous-facial-hair-style, surly dude? So, you see, “hon”, it IS all about the service.

  2. Danny 12/15/2007 at 3:24 am #

    You Lie! Skoot’s was your idea!

  3. donnaaries 12/15/2007 at 10:07 am #

    I didn’t know!
    You suggested Bone Daddy’s, if I remember correctly.

  4. michaela0416 12/15/2007 at 6:28 pm #

    I’ll never forget the time in high school I was digging into a bucket of wings at Hooter’s and felt a sharp pain on my lip, looked down and realized there were ants all over my wings! How’s that for an urban legend? I guess when I ordered the fire wings, they thought I said fire ants!

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