Wing Wings in the Lower Haight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You aren’t seeing double

 

Central to both Capitalism and Darwinism is the idea of diversification. For instance, the Panda has stubbornly refused to widen the scope of its sustainatory purview beyond bamboo, and all that’s standing between it and oblivion is the obsession humanity has with all things round, fuzzy and disgustingly cute.

The Panda’s unhealthy, perhaps kinky obsession with bamboo is called “specialization”, something that never seems to work out in the epochal scheme of things but seems to be working out for Wing Wings, a Lower Haight eatery who’s particular specialization is in chicken wings.  They offer other items, it’s true, but their identity is largely defined by the sale of chicken wings.  While the focus of the place is narrow, they’ve found a way to make the slanging of your everyday chicken wing interesting vis-a-vis the panoply of sauces to choose from that go into their preparation (eight to be exact, ranging from the abrasive and aptly-named Angry Korean, to the simple Dry Rub).   They come five for six bucks, ten for ten, and 25 for 23.   Given that the chicken wing is defined by it’s scarcity of meat, and that you’re allowed one sauce for every five wings, I recommend getting 10 wings, which can very comfortably feed one person and which affords you two sauces.

Wings often accompany forms of sedentary sportive merriment, and Wing Wings is perfectly adapted to this way of life: they offer pick-up and delivery services (the latter until 11pm).   Order them up in bulk and you can sample all the varieties.  They offer a selection of sides to ride side-car to the wings, such as macaroni salad, biscuits, three kinds of fries, potato salad, and cole slaw.  If cases of cold beer were available as well, Wing Wings would be the Holy Grail of food delivery, but as of yet they aren’t providing that service.  Us and our fat, chapped asses can only sit and hope.

 

Wing Wings
422 Haight Street (@ Webster)
[Lower Haight]
SF

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About the author

Matt Fink - Fatt Mink

I grew up in San Jose, only 50 minutes away from S.F. My dad, brother and I came up often to visit family and/or to fart around, and whenever the car came over the rise on Hwy. 101 just after Candlestick Park, I could hear an almost audible "Click" in my brain. The blinding, beautifully rolling blanket of diverse urbanity spread out before our speeding automobile, coupled with draughts of the clean, cool air conspired to instill in me a growing discontent with San Jose. Add access to hitherto unknown strata of music, booze and food culture, not to mention pet-deification and testicular-separators, and I couldn't be kept away for long. Even after ten years of residency, the sight of a glistening pair of moose-knuckles swinging down Market St. still makes my heart swell with pride.
  • http://Www.mrbunkersf.com Joel Bunker

    I am glad I found this site. I feel you. All I do is look for a job, try to write for money, start a site, consulting, or anything. Freaking 35 years old, with a BA and a JD, and I can’t find work. Businesses won’t touch me, cause I have the law degree! Not licensed, so I can’t practice law. Restraunts won’t touch me, because I have “no experience.” The only thing I qualify for is a bunch of City jobs as an analyst or manager. However, those jobs are hard to get, and San Francisco has a seniority based hiring system (ProbAbly doesn’t help I am white either. Lol.). However, that probably got messed up, cause the FED’S tried to Patriot Act my bank account cause i live in a building with a lot of Yemens. When I figured it out, my training kicked in… Collected my evidence, wrote an article, and started sending that shit off to Wall Street Journal, Chronicle, NBC, Lawyer friends from Law School and my Federal Represenatives. Finally, the dipshits realized terrorists don’t make that much noise, or threaten the agency back to have their funding yanked! So I got my cash back, and stood up for my neighbors. Apparently, it’s happened in the building before, but the new American’s were so scared they just took it. Now they don’t use banks I guess… I don’t know! But I’m still broke, and may have just burned myself with the City for this analyst job I just applied for. $58,000 a year, but fuck that! This is America, and the Office of Foreign Assets Control can’t just go around scaring new American’s or worst of all…. Stealing my damned beer money for the weekend! I did the right thing for America and my neighbors, but maybe the wrong thing to do for me or my career.

    Long story short, glad to see there are other people out there broke as me. How lucky would you be to be one of Steuarts broke asses. I want to get paid and my bar tab picked up, to go to different bars and write reviews in San Francisco! I’d just get lost in the awesome SF nightlife, and the only proof I am still alive would be articles to my editor! I could go for that job, big time! Lol.

    Joel Bunker