CD's Wings, Westminster, CO

“It’s nice to have someone to eat chicken wings with.”

That's what he said.

It's good to spend a Saturday night at home in leggings and a tank (no underwires) and a much-too-big zip hoodie munching take-out chicken wings. Especially since, to quote the movie Clueless, “My party clothes are so binding.” So as much as I adore dress-up-and-sit-down sushi dates, lingering over a linen tablecloth and full bottle of red and prix fixe menus, sometimes a girl just wants to rip into some chicken, eat with her hands and lick every finger.

CD's Wings boosts a "Best of Westword" nod on it's web site and dozens of 5-star yelp reviews. I have a lovely memory from my wild(er) and single(r) days of enjoying a relaxing roll with one accommodating young man, and another taking me later that night for CD’s Wings. Damn, I was a rock star.

But I digress.

The CD “House Special” might very well be all wing sauces combined (and you can’t order just a few "…full orders only, no mixing dude," said the stoner behind the counter.) A sweet teriyaki vibe, dash of peppery Cajun and crispy, spicy BBQ crust that (oddly enough) really worked. On a return visit however, the “specials” were wet and chewy and so overly-seasoned I couldn’t stomach them. Tried rinsing a bit of the comically overwhelming and super-duper-Africa hot sauce off under the faucet (I know, right?) but the limp drumette underneath, so wrinkly and pinkish yellow in color, conjured images of eating a small babies foot. 

Like those two boys, CD's Wings was filed under, "casual fling, over quickly."

Since then I haven’t found the must-have-go-to spot, but Wingman (transplants from New York to Colorado who, in search of true “Buffalo" wings, opened shop and got themselves franchised) satiate the need. This little stop in a little strip mall in Northglenn used to house Woody's Wings, a local and much missed icon. Still the odd, creamy Wingman mild sauce is a winner - imagine red sauce mixed with sour cream, milky and opaque. It sticks beautifully in the extra-crispy-fried crevices.

Now I’m in the mood. For wings, cheeky monkeys. I have a half-dozen soaking up coconut milk and harissa in the 'fridge right now. Light the Hibachi soon.

Because sometimes a girl just gotta do for herself.