Dover, Delaware — the smack-dab center of The First State — is a small city of about 40,000 people. It’s the capital of Delaware, the home of the monster mile NASCAR track, and is part of the Delmarva Peninsula — a massive stalactite of land that hangs down between the Delaware Bay and the Atlantic Ocean.
Now, if you have ever have the chance to visit our fair town, you’ll be able to see all of it pretty quickly — visit the nearby beaches, take pictures of the track, walk through the historical sites. Those are fine and dandy, but what truly makes Dover great are the subtle cultural differences of our city.
For example, the law that requires a driver to pull over when an ambulance, fire truck, or police car have their sirens and lights on, doesn’t apply here — I mean, the law does apply, but it’s a silly law and no one knows about it. In fact, if you are ever in Dover and do see an emergency response vehicle behind you — sirens flashing and horn whaling — just do what we do. Bear down and protect your road space — that obnoxious truck can go around you if he’s in such a gosh darn hurry.
Because in Dover, we have our own way of doing things. For example, we never say goodbye. In fact, we don’t ever end a conversation at all. Let’s say you run into someone you know in a store or on the street. You’ll stop. Say hello. Talk for a while. And then, when the conversation is slowing down — this is the part where you other people say, talk to you soon, or see you later — we just walk away. Then months later, when we run into that person again, we can start the conversation right where we left it.
And because Dover is a military town, if you are ever at a Little League game or a Caesar Rodney Basketball or Football game, you will experience a reverence during the national anthem like you have never seen. Once the sound of the swoosh of hats being pulled off is over, the silence that will fall will simply hold you.
But one of the great paradoxes of Dover life involves the food. It’s…well…it’s bad. No that’s a lie, it’s gawd-awful. But this actually turns out to be a good and a bad thing. It’s a bad thing that it’s so terrible. But it’s a good thing because no one knows it.
We have very few independent restaurants in Dover, and we have every franchise that’s ever been in existence. It’s all we know and it’s all we compare to. Is the pesto grilled chicken at Olive Garden better than the pesto grilled chicken at Applebee’s? Hmmm?
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Which brings us to the chicken wing. Many people believe that a chicken wing — simply a wing, deep fried and covered with sauce — is a chicken wing. Many people believe that these are easy to make and hard to screw up. They’re all the same, right? Worse yet, people even believe that wings at Buffalo Wild Wings, Hooters, or TGI Fridays are real wings.
Well, I’m here to tell you that these people are wrong — and probably communists.
If you have never been to a little independent bar or restaurant — and this is where the magic happens, a place where the kitchen can be creative and not follow a franchise recipe — and you have never tasted a great chicken wing then it’s easy to think this. Sure, there is some comfort in not knowing. But, you have a hole in your life that needs to be filled.
When I was twelve years old I got glasses for the first times. I was sitting in my mother’s car after the doctor’s appointment and I put the glasses on. I can still tell you — forty years later — how my world went from fuzzy and foggy to crisp and in Technicolor in seconds. Pow. But before this moment, I never knew the world was like this. I didn’t know what I was missing. It’s the same with a great chicken wing. Your world will never be the same.
The history of the chicken wing began on a Friday night in 1964 in a place called The Anchor Bar in Buffalo, NY. Now the story is a little unclear of whether Dominic Bellissimo — the son of the owner, Teressa Bellissimo — was returning from college that night or was actually working the bar. But what is known is that when Dominic’s friends got there, they were all very hungry. So Dominic asked his mother to cook them something. Teressa went into the kitchen and found some chicken wings that were there to make stock. She deep fried them, covered them with a hot sauce mixture, and served them. They were a hit, and Buffalo chicken wings were born. (No, the name has nothing to do with the endangered, horned animal of the great plains.)
And now, fifty years later, you can have Buffalo wing potato chips and Buffalo wing pizza.
So the question is, does the birthplace of the chicken wing make the best chicken wing?
The answer is yes. Yes it does.
And no.
Being brought up in upstate New York I have had some great chicken wings in my life, made by some great chicken wing masters. And I will tell you that the wings at The Anchor Bar — the original site on Main Street in Buffalo — are absolutely the best I’ve ever had. Bar none.
They are crispy, but moist. Flavorful and rich. And the sauce…all I can say is wow.
Yes, The Anchor Bar makes the best wing.
But, big stipulation here, only at their original location.
Recently, The Anchor Bar has expanded and now has several locations; at the Buffalo Airport and other locales across Western New York. I’ve eaten at a few of them and the magic is just not there.
Now if you travel to Buffalo, you will hear some smack about a place called Duff’s and there is a pretty heated rivalry between Duff’s and The Anchor Bar for the best Buffalo chicken wing. So, I’ve eaten at both and my vote goes to The Anchor Bar, hands down. The sauce at Duff’s is hotter — and I always order my wings suicide-style — but making a sauce hot is not a difficult trick since there are so many pepper extracts on the market.
So the best chicken wing in the country — and possibly the world — goes to The Anchor Bar.
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