Spring Cleaning

As a rule, I'm not crazy about chicken wings. I never order them* and rarely make them. I think it's because they always leave a trail of orange sauce from the corners of your mouth to your fingertips and possibly on all articles of clothing in between (and even those in the next room, too).

*One notable exception is the dirty south wings at the New Public House in Blowing Rock, NC. The wings were coated in a fabulous sweet and spicy blackberry bourbon glaze and it was so good, I wished for a piece of bread to wipe the leftover glaze off the plate. And yes, I ate them with a fork.
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