Team, you know how in political debates you will never win an argument? The moment you say to someone “You’re wrong.” all bets are off. I’ve had one of them moments where I was told I’m wrong and changed my opinion. This moment of realization had nothing to do with politics. I don’t sit around and debate monetary policy, I fucking debate hot wings.
Hot wings are probably the most important food like ever. I did a post about this real shitty bar in WLR called The Tavern. This was around a year ago and it was utterly pathetic. The service and food quality sucked. By chance I stumbled into the tavern Friday night.
Shewolf and I were bellied up at the bar and an old friend walked up. Patrick Precious Mason, legendary rugby boss and now head chef at the Tavern. Pretty legit resume so far. I told Pat about my terrible experience the last time I was at The Tavern and he assured me to give his wings a shot.
Fuck sake I’m glad he did. I ordered the fire wings which came out steaming, smothered in a fantastic ghost pepper wing sauce. After the first bite you are going to thank yourself the wings are smoked. Fucking unreal.
Oh yeah we ordered egg rolls. No fucks were given and I promise you I cleaned them knuckles.
Contrary to my first review of the Tavern, I give this place two wing sauce covered thumbs up.
Have a great place we should visit, let us know in the comments.
Eat local.
