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.
422 Haight Street (@ Webster)