A Black Fly in your Chardonnay

In honor of the series finale of Lost last night (and the fact that I have been considering going to a hot Yoga class)

Namaste Readers,

Alright, token attempt at cultural equality complete, now down to business. The past few weeks have been very crazy with S/TP graduating from high school, and rain every day the week before prohibiting us from embarking upon a mission, but we are back in action now and will hopefully be uninhibited for the remainder of the summer….hopefully…

Despite all of stupid graduation related shit S/TP had to do last week we did manage to fit in a trip to Wellman’s on Ingersoll (we have to clarify the location because the new Wellman’s opened in West Glen this weekend.)



This trip was unique from the biking standpoint because we have just been dying (haha) to try out the new bike lanes on Ingersoll. Despite the fact that we would consider ourselves champions of reckless urban bike riding even we cannot condone this death trap.

We had reservations about speeding down a fairly main street in Des Moines in a half lane dedicated solely to bikers and full of dashed lines, but we know that as journalists we must take risks, and stay up to the minute with urban/environmental development.

We must also mention we dislike this stupid sudden infatuation all you faux hippies have with “going green”, so much so that sometimes I even ask them to triple up on the plastic sacks at Dahls, and am excited tons of oil is leaking into the Gulf. So, any attempt to make less room for our non fuel efficient clunker worthy status SUV is going to be met with some resistance from us here at RorF… and just kidding about the oil thing that is actually fucking terrible and we do recycle and bring our own green bags….geeze

Politics aside…the Bike Lanes



S/TP was almost certain this would be the last photo of her ever taken; she then proceeded to ask if I would make sure she was buried in her graduation gown. I told her no because then we would not get the deposit back. Tassel burial only. She lived.



But was nail biting the whole time...

We started at 42nd and Ingersoll to get the full bike lane experience. It was mainly a scary experience. We had no idea what any of the markings meant, S/TP insisted on saying a Hail Mary every time the lines were dashed, and we had to stop at red lights right next to cars looking like true assholes. Actually, the stopping next to cars at red lights was sort of fun and funny because we could really creep in on people. We tried to take a picture but we never had enough time to remove photo machine from supply pack.

Then we got to Wellman’s. We decided not to go on their Thursday $5 and two beer minimum all you can eat wing night because we tend to agree that sometimes wings mass produced for the all-you-can-eat crowd tend to be a little lower in quality then if you were to go at say Wednesday at 3pm.

So we ordered two orders of wings, one hot and one regular. They also offered a BBQ and a teriyaki option which we did not choose. We sat on the patio, which, as we have previously mentioned, adds fly consideration to any establishment because eating wings outside is just a great treat. Plus the weather is just starting to get magnificent. Ha magnificent.



The wings however were really not that great of a treat.

The Bad

1. They had a very rubbery skin, which is probably one of our least favorite wing elements. Not crispy at all. It really brought to mind the image of the rubber chicken
2. The size of the wings. The drums would have been matched nicely if the Bud Light was served in thimbles. They were that small. I could type up like hundreds of jokes and metaphors about small things but I will spare you all.


The “We Can’t Agree”

1. The sauce. This was a huge point of disagreement between S/TP and I. I think I only liked the sauce because it was pretty much just Frank’s Red Hot (which I Love) with butter, vinegar, and red pepper flakes. The only difference between the hot and the regular was the presence of the red pepper flakes. S/TP said if this was the first time she had ever had wings she would never have them again. We then thanked the Holy Golden Girls in Heaven this had not been the course her life had taken.

In reality these were pretty much just average wings you could get at any bar in America with a fryer, a frozen appetizer sales representative, and some hot sauce. I didn’t hate them, S/TP did, but she is just a dumb kid who hasn’t been to college yet….

Some good things about this trip

1. Patio
2. Good Ratio of drums to wings
3. Cold Bud Lights
4. The lady sitting behind us who was clearly meeting someone for what we think was a date. While waiting she slugged a beer super quickly, then he arrived and ordered two…LONG ISLAND ICE TEAS…..which is funny in itself and she pounded that, then had one more brew, looked at her watch and goes to the guy “Wow I really need to leave to go pick up my daughter at Girl Scouts”

We openly cracked up for about 3 minute as we watched her speed away from the baffled date/associate and we hope that this was a line of the “I need to go feed my cat” variety and that she wasn’t really going to pick up her child after pounding three cocktails at 3 pm…but to each their own I guess.

Speaking of reckless drinking habits and kids, our friend Teacher X met us to weigh in and she said that the wings were not of high enough quality to qualify as an “after school snack”….which apparently teachers are entitled to and have certain quality requirements… who the fuck knows? She does teach in a Des Moines Suburb that will remain unnamed (but just know it sucks) so her opinion must also be regarded with a drop of hot sauce as they say.



Teacher X Giving a Thumbs Down

Verdict:

Five Flies



To End we will quote our wise Uncle F who said “I am all for the bike lanes on Ingersoll, as long as I am in a car.”

See you next week….we are thinking Hooters because we hear as far as a national chains go they have the breast wings…wow sorry.

Barenaked Ladies Lyric Regarding Chinese Chicken

Place: Jethros
Miles 1.96

Friends, Romans, Countrymen lend me your ears….Actually we are not here to bury Caesar. We are here to talk about wings and bike riding, a task far more noble and meaningful than giving a Eulogy. So as they say in France…read on or fuck off.*

So Tuesday’s operation was Jethros, a place we are not unfamiliar with. We have liked this place since it opened because sometimes when you go there you can pretend like you are still in college. They also have a bike rack, which made the bike riding journalistic demographic feel welcome.



We received several reader recommendations to attend the wing consumption gala that occurs every Tuesday at Jethros and when we walked in we found that in addition to the satisfaction of random customers, they also have been given a prestigious runner-up accolade.



Because we currently have no accolades to award (our at home desktop printer is broken) we consider any recognition to be prestigious, but seriously Cityview could you not even splurge for award worthy looking stationary…

Anyways, we were simply overwhelmed with the amount of people that were just straight up wing munching. It was sort of a thing of beauty. People were having so much fun sucking on saucy chicken bones it was just a remarkable and fantastic sight. They are getting extra consideration for this in the awarding of the flies. Wings are two for one on Tuesdays, so if you want to be in the company of other deal seeking, carnivorous, Des Moinesians Tuesdays at Jethros is your place.

So we sit down and a table of guys next to us has just been presented with an enormous platter of wings. We are wary of the diversity of wing sauce choices and these gentlemen seem to be recurring/knowledgeable customers and one guy looks like Roseanne Barr. I tell S/TP to ask them what flavors they have ordered and if they have any recommendations for us infantile Jethro’s wing munchers.

She obliges, but they seem to be ignoring us, and then one guy puts up his finger to his lips in like the “be quiet” position and we are super baffled. Then we realize they are quite literally saying a prayer and blessing their wings. This is both hilarious and reverent and takes wing appreciation to a whole new level. S/TP bows her head and folds her hands in some crazy knee jerk reaction to the whole situation. Hilarity ensues for the entirety of the minute plus wing blessing. Then they tell us they got hot barbecue. We almost need to request a seat rearrangement because we cannot keep it together.


So we decide to order 20 wings in 4 different flavors.

1. Obviously, traditional buffalo
2. In honor of the right wing...ha. religious fanatics we get the hot barbecue
3. To be sort of forward thinking out of the box liberals we get Parmesan Garlic
4. At the recommendation of our server we get the spiced rub, which any of Jethros signature sauces can be applied to.



The wings are super meaty and have a great signature smoked meat taste complete with crispy/black smoked chicken skin, which is really a nice treat. The ratio of wings to drums is on point.
Our favorite of the sauces is the hot barbecue, but we decide that this is sort of more like eating barbecue chicken than wings.
The traditional buffalo are sort of under sauced for a devotee of saucy mediums and there is just not quite enough heat.
The Parmesan garlic turns out to be simply too liberal of an application to be really considered wings, plus the sauce was a weird and unappealing color and consistency too reminiscent of a certain Friday night/Saturday Morning gone bad for our personal liking. And to think I am single...

Finally, the rub was the total standout in terms of deliciousiocity. Of the bunch this is the wing that will be receiving our broke ass accolade if we ever get our printer fixed…

We were very curious as to the process of how these wings were made and our very friendly (yet obviously weirded out by our analytical wing discussion/photo essay) waitress tells us that they are smoked for 2 hours in the morning, then chilled all day, then deep fried and sauced with their sauce mates (this explains the disparity in sauce application between the different flavors). Ha Sauce mates. You can also drink beer out of a jar like Huckleberry Finn used to probably do.



And that is cool.

So taking into consideration all of the above they are getting 7 Flies

As for the bike ride…

After all the positive feedback regarding my no hands move a few weeks ago S/TP and I decided we should sort of expand the repertoire of Evil Knievelness to keep readers on edge (a literary device). I am the obvious candidate for this undertaking because S/TP major sucks at bike riding and is seriously lucky we have made it this far without severe bodily harm. So, for all of you, I created a new move. It is called the speeding bullet



As you can see you sort of just go into Lance Armstrong position on really any steep hill and speed down. That is the move.

We also saw a lady laying in her front yard measuring blades of grass with a ruler and a woman who was blowing a leaf blower at a fairly small child while he was dancing and some other lunatic was videotaping the whole thing on an Iphone. Those were the main highlights of the ride. People can seriously be so disturbing.

But we still had a bitchin time…



*I actually never heard anyone say anything like that when I was in France

See you all next week.

If you are reading this Justin, I just want you to know how much "Lonely Girl" means to me...

First off Thanks to everyone who has been reading, retweeting, and hanging out with me because I am now an acclaimed blogger. I thought for sure people stopped paying attention to me online after I hinted that I would consider Justin Bieber a consenting adult if the situation ever presented itself (June 30th, 2010) but boy was I wrong.

Turns out writing about bike riding and eating chicken wings can almost get you laid on a Friday night. I am not joking. So thanks for that.

So the destination for Week Two of RorF (A nice abbreviation submitted by a reader) was Woody’s Smoke Shack located on Cottage Grove near Drake



Miles: 2.37

Wing blog writing is sort of like Lady Gaga. You have to take the good with the bad, as the following visual aid will substantiate

Lady Gaga
Good: Dancing to Poker face when you are ankle grabbing after half a bottle of Patron
Bad: Pretty much everything else

Wing Blog Writing
Good: Last week’s experience
Bad: This week’s experience

I hope that helped.

So, this is hard for several reasons. They are: I love the Ribs at Woodys, they are hands down the best in town, the place is super cute, and you can dine al fresco at picnic tables. However, this is not a rib and ambiance blog…

It is a wing blog and that is what must be reviewed, which is why this was such an ultimate failure. You see readers; the thing about being a journalist is you need to report the truth no matter how many lives you ruin, or people you leave dead and bloodied in the streets just to make a name for yourself. So here it is….

Woody’s only offers wings on Thursday nights. They are the special. They ran out. At 6:30. We got there at 6:31. Turns out it was not so special. The End.

To add insult to injury the guy in front of us got the last batch, even after explaining that we were JOURNALISTS doing a PIECE we received absolutely no respect or explanation, except for a half assed “Uh Sorry” from the guy that is the presumed owner/proprietor of this establishment who was also wearing a really goofy fucking beanie/beret hat that was doubly annoying after no wings were available.

I guess in defense of Woody’s the wings did look pretty good. They were the right color, they only offer one sauce, and they had the smell of being spicy. That was all we could glean from repeatedly walking by and creeping around the table of the guy who actually got to eat the wings.

BUT we cannot recommend somewhere for wing consumption when there are no wings available to be consumed. Once again, sorry, but…

ZERO FLIES

We did consider going back and giving them another try, but this idea has been vetoed due to the abundance of other locales that offer wings and presumably have them available for consumption during all of their normal business hours, as opposed to during 1 business hour.

As for the ride, this was a much shorter and easier undertaking than last weeks brush with Tour de Franceness, but like the lack of wings it was also a bit of a disappointment. Woody’s is BYOB so I made S/TP ride the whole way with 12 Bud Light Tallboys in her backpack.

A little about S/TP. She is a senior in high school, and she doesn’t drink because it “makes her dizzy” so she was complaining like a little schoolgirl the whole way. Example:
“What in the hell kind of prom diet involves riding a bike uphill with 12 tallboys in my school backpack?” and I reminded her “A Genius one”

Her idea of bringing your own beverage involves filling a used water bottle with Blue and Cherry Icee



You might be wondering why two adventurers would bring 12 extra large beers when only one adventurer enjoys drinking, and the answer would be.”Shut the hell up and worry about yourself.”

And also the sky got super dark and it started pouring rain…

So that pretty much sums it up. Not every ride can be a great one I guess, and this one just seems to be our Gigli. We appreciate you sticking with us, and will see you next week. We are going to Jethros.