After months of describing the deep fried grandeur of the state’s best chicken joint, I was finally going to introduce my ladyfriend to the honey-drenched ecstasy that is Bobo’s Chicken. With Sean in the backseat, we got more and more excited as the car headed down NE 23rd, close to Martin Luther King, right to that famous spot where the truck usually sits on weekend nights.
I say usually because, as I guess many hungry people have apparently known for weeks—months!—on social media, they haven’t been open and, this Saturday night, they still weren’t.
Driving back with long faces and empty bellies, I noticed some signage on the side of the road in front of Shepherd Mall touting a new place called Woo’s Wings, 2401 NW 23rd St., Suite 64B. Desperately craving poultry of any kind, I made a Bandit-style turn into the parking lot, tires breaking with a loud screech into a parking spot. I grabbed her by the hand and rushed in to the dead and buried mall.
Past the security guard kiosk, there it was, the small eatery lighting up the darkened complex. As a pair of teen girls came out with their arms full, we walked in, grabbing the paper menu off of the counter. With six distinct flavors to choose from, I selected a trio of five-piece meals: Southern Fried, Honey Drip and Sweet Barbecue, all at $7.99 each, complete with hand-cut fries and a dinner roll.
(The other selections were Lemon Pepper, Spicy Lemon Pepper and Buffalo, in case you wanted to know.)
As her husband dutifully manned the register, restaurant namesake Woo was working diligently on the wings and fries in this essentially two-person operation. Despite being forever alone in this barren mall, the place had a healthy clientele coming in and out, placing orders and picking up wings, well until two or three in the morning.
As Woo called out my order from the back, my wings were boxed and ready to eat. The different scents emanating made it tempting as I wanted to tear into the boxes right then and there, but I practiced culinary celibacy until we got home, sampling only a few perfect fries in the car.
The Sweet Barbecue was a tangy treat with just the right amount of the sweet sauce, while the Southern Fried were better than anything the KFC down the street has to offer, now or ever. But it was the blissful Honey Drip, a thickly taunting piece of fried sweetness with honey seeped down into every glistening sinew, a skillfully-made taste that made Woo’s wings absolutely wonderful.
As my ladyfriend and I romantically shared the last few handfuls of fries—dipped in the Buffalo Drip Sauce, adding a swift kick—I have to admit that, while at first I was a bit tore down that there’s currently no Bobo’s and might never be again, Woo’s Wings built me right back up and probably will for quite a long while. Cómpralo ya!
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