I’ve been barbecuing buffalo wings for a loooong time because I’m a sucker for the lip fizz. The idea of using such an obscene amount of hot sauce then compensating for it with a deep cut of butter is the kind of hip swinging I can get behind. Buffalo wings don’t so much enter the room as kick the door off its hinges and spit on the floor. Doing them on the barbecue means they get all hissy with hot fat, which drips onto the coals, sending up mini puffs of smoke (extra flavour). I think they’re best cooked like this because the boldness of the grill matches the intensity of the sauce. They do need a quench - a flumpy cloud of dairy - which usually comes in the form of blue cheese sauce. That cold slap of creaminess to sluice away the sting.
I’ve been doing them with celery tzatziki, which I’ve found out is pronounced zaziki - none of this trying to give the Ts some air time, which I think I may have been guilty of. Embarrassing! I wonder how many Greek speakers have tutted as they’ve scribbled down my order. But. Having found out how to avoid butchering the word, here I am playing loose with the concept. Sorry. The other standard accompaniment is celery. The flavour works well, but the sticks are usually just kind of there. They’re not doing anything. So I’ve incorporated the celery into the dip where it has a chance to spread its crunchy nibs. I’ve not added any blue cheese, but do add it if you can’t imagine wings without the funk. Probably have to call it a blue cheese dip at that point, though.
I toss the wings in a little celery salt before grilling, which leans into the dip, and you could also add a pinch to the not-zaziki to double down. Or leave it out entirely. The sauce is where the magic happens. I brown the butter first to add depth and complexity, then it’s the usual hot sauce butter combo with a touch of maple syrup - it needs a little sweetness to round it out, and why add sugar when you can add something with more interest? If you’re cooking literally any of my recipes, you’ll likely have a bottle open already. If you don’t, sub in some soft brown sugar but start with 1 tablespoon, tasting as you go. I’ve wanged on about wings quite a bit now, so I’ll just say that you really do want to joint them; otherwise they’re a pain to eat. A butcher will do it if you don’t want to, and Waitrose wings come ready-jointed, I’ve noticed. It’s actually very simple, though! Here’s a guide to jointing chicken wings that we published in Pit magazine Issue 07, back in 2020, when we were still a barbecue magazine. The following issue (08) was our first around a theme - sausages. A glorious segue, I’m sure you’ll agree. Sausages are now having a moment, which I wrote about for The Observer a couple of weeks back.
One more thing! If you want to cook them indoors, you may do so (instructions are in the recipe), but honestly, with the summer we’re having? It would be rude to turn the oven on, not to mention inadvisable. Save that shit for autumn when we’ll be moaning about rain and wondering when to put the heating on. Hard to imagine now, isn’t it? Helen x... Subscribe to Flavour Nuggets by Helen Graves to unlock the rest.Become a paying subscriber of Flavour Nuggets by Helen Graves to get access to this post and other subscriber-only content. A subscription gets you:
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