Fire on the Mountain

Did you ever wonder how we, as a species, figured out things were poisonous? Some poor Cro-magnon, staggering across the veldt, searching for food, only to find that the vegetable they’d so desperately sought made their mouth burn like hell and caused them to poop themselves to death.

Turns out someone’s using it as a wing sauce.

I’m old and, in my weary wandering, have learned a few humbling facts: 1. Short of surgery, my nipples will never again look toward the sun and 2. I shouldn’t eat the spiciest wings on the menu. Fortunately, that doesn’t extend to my dining companion, who plowed through six of the El Jefe wings with reckless abandon. And, I do mean reckless, because about halfway through, he got the shakes and was sweating like a nun in a cucumber field. There’s a challenge where you have to eat 15 in three minutes – comes out to 12 seconds a wing. He made it exactly 12 seconds before tapping out.

The rest of the wings we tried were also excellent – lime & cilantro, lemon pepper, sweet BBQ. Apparently the fries are really good as well. We’ll try them the next time me and ol’ Rocket Bottom Johnson are looking for wings.

http://www.portlandwings.com/