A few weeks ago, J brought in some hot wings that she'd purchased at a local BBQ joint. I have a huge weakness for a good wing.
Since Dasha sits between us, she is - by default - involved in any conversations that J and I have.
"What," she asked after a moment, "is a Buffalo wing?"
Cue my usual moment of disconnect while I process yet another gap in Dasha's cultural knowledge. Buffalo wings are one of those rare American Things that is genuinely American.
Log cabins? Swedish. Apple pie? English, Dutch, or Swedish, depending on who you ask.
Seriously. Do your homework.
Buffalo Wings? American.
It's a wing cut into two parts, and deep-fried until crispy. Once they're crisped up, they are slathered in a vinegar-based hot sauce. It's similar to a Carolina Barbecue Sauce, only spicier.
We're lucky here in the Seattle area, as we have an excellent wing-focused chain, Wing Dome.
I know that Dasha is a bit of a spice wuss - she doesn't much like spicy food. So I decided to take it easy on her and start her at a Two Alarm. It's stronger than catsup, but not by much. I usually go for a Four Alarm. My wife goes for a Five.
Like most places, Wing Dome serves their wings with celery and blue cheese dressing.
Dasha had apparently never had celery before, either. "What is this?"
"It's celery," I explained. It's astounding to me how many things celery appears in - I, personally, tend to see it mostly as an ingredient in a variety of soups. "It's healthy," I continued. "In the US, children often have this for a snack, usually with peanut butter."
Her nose wrinkled at this. "Ooookayyyy," she said, "I will try it."
"Wait until you have a wing," I told her. "The celery will help cut the heat if it's too spicy." I had trouble keeping a straight face at this - Two Alarm isn't too spicy for anyone, is it?
"Oh. What a good idea!" She proceeded to crunch into the (really tasty-smelling) wings. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "Mmmm! This is really good!"
I showed her how to dip the wings in the bleu cheese dressing - again, for the "heat."
"That is very tasty," she told me.
And then she tried the celery (dipped in the bleu cheese dressing). Apparently it was a fail. "This green stuff? Let me tell you I am not eating it because it is the nastiest grass I have ever tasted!"
When her meal was done, I asked her what she thought of it. "It was amazing, but my mouth is now like it's on fire."
The verdict: Win.
