Where to find the best chicken wings in the South Bay
My parents liked to buy their chickens at a live poultry market, so I didn't grow up eating chicken purchased at supermarkets, or even at butcher shops.
We'd walk around the market, with straw on the floor, serenaded by the squawks and gobbles of the birds in their wooden cages, looking for one that seemed the right size, based on … well, I don't really know what. But after they poked around, and discussed the chickens with each other, my parents would select one, it would be slaughtered at the market, the feathers would be “flicked” — and it would be wrapped and taken home, fully intact!
Once home, my mother would remove the pin feathers with a tweezer. And then, she'd slice the bird open — and surgically remove stuff that, well, we don't encounter anymore in our Foster Farms fowl. Parts that my sister and I would compete for, believing them to be special. There was the “crown” at the top of the chicken's head. There was the heart, and the liver. My father would eat the gizzard — so chewy, and so tasteless. My mother would eat the feet — even more tasteless. The best of the “lost” parts were the unborn chicken eggs, which emerged like yellow grapes, and tasted so good in soup.
And then, there were the wings. There were, thankfully, two per bird — one for me, one for my sister. We'd cook them till they were crisp, cover them with ketchup, and gobble everything but the bones. We loved the chicken wings, which back in the day were thought of as poor people's food — parts of the bird not eaten by society's upper crust. And then, everything changed.
Thanks to Teresa and Frank Bellissimo, owners of the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York, chicken wings became a cult culinary pleasure — a joy to eat with a nice cold beer, covered with cayenneand vinegar-based hot sauce with butter, and gobbled by the basketful while watching the game o' the moment.
They were eaten by the dozens — the drumettes, the flats, even the wingtips. Fast-food technology made them boneless, into chicken fries, chicken nuggets, popcorn chicken and Buffalo chicken wing pizza. They spread across the U.S. and Canada, thanks to chains like Buffalo Wild Wings and Hooters. Mickey D's began serving them. So did Domino's and Pizza Hut.
Chinese variants appeared, along with Thai, Japanese, Caribbean and Indian. You can find Blueberry BBQ Wing Sauce, and Maple/Bacon Glaze Wing Sauce. There's a Wing Bowl Festival in Philadelphia, and a National Buffalo Wing Festival at Highmark Stadium in Buffalo, N.Y.,
that's attended by 80,000 fans over three days. And in 1977, the city of Buffalo declared July 29 to be National Chicken Wing Day.
July is filled with culinary days: July 4 is National Barbecue Day (Of course! ... And there's another one in May!), July13 is National French Fry Day, July21 is National Junk Food Day, and the last Thursday of the month (July 28 this year) is National Chili Dog Day. But no day gets to me as much as National Chicken Wing Day.
I loved chicken wings growing up in The Bronx. I love them here in SoCal. If anything, they've gotten better. And they're everywhere. I have to believe chickens have been bred to have a dozen wings. Whatever — I need my wings, skin and all. And there are lots of joints where they make them so good! With a nice cold beer, of course. They began six decades ago to go with beer, and they still do — perfectly!
Chicken T.W.I.L.I. at The Brews Hall at Del Amo
21770 DEL AMO CIRCLE E., TORRANCE » 310-294-9838, thebrewshall.com
The letters stand for “The Way I Like It.” And the way they like things at this chicken stand in The Brews Hall adjacent to Del Amo is crispy and spicy. There's a spicy fried chicken sandwich, spicy fried tenders — and an abundance of wings. Beginning with the Classic Buffalo Wings, which come with a choice of two dipping sauces drawn from Ranch, Blue Cheese, Honey Mustard Classic Buffalo, Smokehouse, barbecue and Asian barbecue. And Asian-style barbecue wings, with the same selection of dipping sauces.
The Buffalo style is drenched in the cayenne sauce that defines the breed; the Asian has more of a soy/hoisin flavor. Whatever — they're both good, with wings that are bigger than most, and lots of other options everywhere you look.
The Brews Hall at DelAmo is more fun than just about anything else found at our local megamalls. There's craft beer of course, sports on innumerable big screens — and the culinary choices should keep hunger at bay, and even feed you better than expected. Or maybe not, since Brew Halls is by the people who brought us Rock `n Brews, which is about as entertaining a restaurant as any I've ever been to.
These are restaurants where you can let down your hair, wear your oldest Adidas and their funkiest jeans — and fit in just fine. The brews here have names like Buzzrock, Herd, Rat Beach and Ta Loco. The Hall consists of many long tables, polished copper tanks, and of course an open ceiling with lots of ribbing and duct work; you really do have a sense of dining in a brewery, which is, of course, exactly what you're doing.
The beer is ordered at the bar, and served with admirable haste to impressively thirsty locals. The chow is ordered in a food area to the right as you enter — four stands in a row, with a good selection of chows — as long as Mexican, deepfried chicken, grilled fish, and many burgers are the selections you like with your beer.
I'm also fond of George Lopez's Chingon Kitchen, a cheerful assortment of familiar Mexican antojitos, that work just perfectly with a pilsner or an IPA. Or anything else with a foamy head on it.
The guacamole is a simple creation, not messed up with modernist touches — just classic guac with classic chips and salsa. The Caesar salad is made with tortilla strips rather than croutons, which is a tad perverse, for croutons are a guilty pleasure of mine, especially if they're really herby.
There are sundry taco options, made with flour, corn or cauliflower, tortillas, packed with carnitas, carne asada, chicken or veggies. There are burritos and taquitos. But even better is the street corn, slathered with crema and queso fresco and chili powder. Terrific beer food. But perhaps not as terrific as Chicken TWILI, a notion by co-owner Dave Furano, who wants his chicken buttermilk-fried, Nashville-spicy and marinated grilled, served on a gluten-free bun with pickles and slaw.
The food here is as friendly as can be imagined. Even the chicken in the logo is giving it a thumbs up. What's not to love?
Yakitori Koshiji
22807 HAWTHORNE BLVD., TORRANCE » 310-378-3787, koshijiusa.com
Chicken wings may seem to be an American notion, but some of the best — many of the best — in town are Asian. Consider the wings to be found at Yakitori Koshiji, which transports me to Tokyo and Shinjuku, where several rail lines intersect, and the streets are lit for the sort of glaring neon that make you feel as if you've fallen into a virtual reality version of “Blade Runner.”
And it's in Shinjuku that you'll find Yakitori Street — a narrow alley that continues mazelike for several blocks, filled with some three dozen small yakitori stands, most of which seat no more than a dozen diners, at a counter dominated by a bincho charcoal grill. Beer and sake are always served. The food is cooked in front of you. The cost is so low as to be insignificant. It's a defining Tokyo experience.
You don't have to negotiate a narrow alleyway to dine at Yakitori Koshiji, which sits in a sprawling mall on Hawthorne Boulevard in Torrance, south of DelAmo. There's a counter behind which the cooks do, indeed, work over small charcoal braziers. But there's also a proper restaurant with proper restaurant seating here, that seems to be booked almost all the time.
There are enough small dishes to allow Koshiji to qualify as a proper izakaya restaurant — a destination with many plates that go well with drinks. And, eventually, toward the back of the menu, you'll find Yakitori a la carte, along with a pair of preset multicourse meals — not a bad way to go if you don't want to have to pick and choose from the choice of 42 different yakitori sticks, all found on a sushi restaurant style checklist. But then, if you leave it in the restaurant's hands, you'll wind up with a skewer of chicken gizzards — which I like, but no one else I know will touch. Oh well, more gizzards for me!
Should you choose to go with the preset combinations, you can opt for allpoultry, with the Yakitori Chicken Course — eight courses (served with rice, soup, a vinegary salad and a bonus vegetable skewer) of chicken with scallions, chicken meatballs, chicken breast, chicken liver, chicken gizzard, chicken wings, and the wild cards of duck breast and quail eggs.
There are 14 chicken options, including chicken neck, chicken skin and chicken tail. The beef tongue is pretty great (another “nasty bit” I love), and cooked just right — not easy, since tongue shrivels fast on the grill. The smelt are served whole, skewered through from lips to tail — a smeltsicle!
Though it's not on a skewer — how could it be? — the house-made coffee Jell-O is a fine dessert, a flavor the people at Jell-O haven't figured out yet. It has lime Jell-O beaten by a mile.
Chubby Rice
12836 INGLEWOOD AVE., HAWTHORNE » 424-456-4341
There's nothing very chubby about the rice at Chubby Rice. But the chubby egg roll certainly does qualify. It reminds me of the monster egg roll served from a truck at the L.A. County Fair. Though in all fairness, that egg roll is the size of a baseball bat; this one clocks in as a twin to the fabled Hollenbeck Burrito. Still, it is a wonder of a dish — and it's just the start — for this small, barely decorated, mini-mall Chinese eatery, that seems to do a lot more takeout than eat-in, is busily trying to turn local Chinese cooking on its ear.
In its own way, Chubby is livin' large. The egg roll is a thing of wonder, packed with pork and vegetables, in a wrapper that stays crisp for a long time — long enough to finish it off at home.
The chubby wings make me rethink my love for Buffalo wings; these are sweet, but also very large. The popcorn chicken, made with thigh meat, is a juicy pleasure. And the chubby salad — a very modern mix of greens — is topped with more chicken breast, popcorn chicken or shrimp than you might reasonably expect.
The appetizers are listed under “Bite Me.” There are dishes titled “Superstars,” and dishes under “Greatest Hits.” Sides are called “Extra Baggage.” Condiments are “Turnt [sic] Up!” Beverages are “Think Before You Drink.” The menu tells us this is “Modern Chinese. Old Fashioned Cooking… Made with Integrity + Passion.”
There's no stinky tofu (that's what it's called), or various and sundry innards served here. Actually, if anything, this isn't so much “Modern Chinese” as “Old Fashioned Chinese” done in a modern fashion.
I haven't come upon a version of Crab Rangoon since the Great Age of Polynesian Restaurants. But here it is, crisp as a potato chip — a wonton shell packed with crab and creamed cream, with a sweet and sour sauce. It's so retro — it's new all over again. It's the best deepfried creamed cream I've had in a long time.
And I've got to talk about the sauce, which sits to the left of the counter (which is where you order; there's no waiter service here), on a tray with a sign that reads, “House Made Sauce.” You help yourself, spooning them into small plastic containers — a deeply green aji sauce, a Sriracha all their own, hot mustard, Chinese barbecue sauce, and a Coca-Cola Sauce that doesn't taste like Coke, but it could be in there somewhere.
The cooking here isn't understated, but it isn't overstated either. The General Tso's is just right — a reminder of how the smoky flavor of the properly prepared original was one of the great happinesses to be found in New York's Chinatown, back in the day. Chubby Rice brings us back to our roots — making them better than they are in memory.
Hotville Chicken
BALDWIN HILLS/CRENSHAW PLAZA, 4070 MARLTON AVE., BALDWIN HILLS » 323-3350373, hotvillechicken.com
The menu at Hotville Chicken comes on a wooden stick, an old school sort of fan that you can use to cool your fevered brow, or just hold like an ice cream pop while you consider what to order.
The choices are not many. But they are sufficient. You want chicken — indeed, if you're here, it's because you need chicken! There's a breast quarter, a leg quarter, a half chicken, a whole chicken and wings.
There's a creation called The Shaw Sandwich — chicken breast on a toasted brioche bun with a “spicy spread,” dill pickles, “kaleslaw” and fries. There's also a fried fish option, made using swai, a type of catfish, that comes out as spicy and tasty as the chicken. In fact, it's a very impressive piece of fish, moist and tender. Just like the chicken. Which is, simply speaking a wonder. And not just because of its devilish spices. Or at least, potentially devilish.
The spice levels are four — from West Coast Plain, through Cali Mild, up to Music City Medium and Nashville Hot, which the menu ranks as a “12” on a scale that goes up to 10”! Trust me — the Cali Mild, ranked at a “4,” is easily hot enough. After that, it crosses over from pleasure to pain — except for those who find pleasure in pain.
The spice is in the batter, which is thick, substantial and crispy to a fault; it crunches with every bite. It also does not pull off easily; this is a batter that's been welded onto the chicken meat. But even if you do manage to pull some off, you'll find the spice is in the chicken itself as well. The peppers cannot be denied. They exude, they dominate, they're what the dish is all about — the raison d'être.
The chicken pieces come atop white bread, with pickle slices; white bread is a tradition in the South, and that's all there is to it. Whole wheat is not an option.
Assuming you need more, there's thick, creamy mac and smokin' cheese, a remarkably good barbecue baked bean trio, ridiculously delicious potato salad, “cobbed” corn, the aforementioned slaw (kale? welcome to LA!) — and on weekends, waffles. Chicken and waffles — perfection!
Roscoe's House of Chicken `n Waffles
621 W. MANCHESTER BLVD., INGLEWOOD » 310-981-4141, roscoeschickenandwaffles.com At Roscoe's — which has been an institution since 1975 — the chow rules. And it rules large. This is, at once, a restaurant where the choice is easy — and also very complicated.
But the real bottom line is that the chicken rules, and wings have always been a big part of the chicken rules here. The menu moves through a choice of many parts (breast with leg or wing), into plates of nothing but chicken wings, and even a few omelettes with chicken. There's a posse of chicken chilies — over white rice or beans, in a bun with cheese (yup, Dave's Sloppy Chili), topping French fries. There are chicken sandwiches.
There's a chicken salad. There's a chicken burger. There's chicken sausage. There's mac and cheese with chicken parts. Even the chef's salad is made with chicken.
At Roscoe's, chicken is everywhere, a ubiquity, and that's a good thing. I suppose the simplest way to go is with one of Herb's Specials (Herb Hudson is the founder). There's half a chicken (and a very big chicken), Southern fried in a crust so good, that even if you pledge not to eat the crust, you will, served over a pair of the best waffles in town. The waffles and the chicken just drip butter. Or, if you get the adjacent variation, they drip gravy and the sweetest, softest, tastiest onions ever. And that's just a small taste of the menu.
There is, for instance, the Sir Michael — a quarter chicken covered with gravy and onions, with grits and hot biscuits. Soul food incarnate. Move up to the Lord Harvey, and the chicken grows to a half. And, with wings showing up everywhere, there's plenty of wing action to be found here. And beyond wing action.
There is, for instance, a section of the menu dedicated to “New Chicken Chili.” You can get a bowl over rice or beans. You can get it in a bun (“Dave's Sloppy Chili”). Or you can get it over cheese fries. It's good. Actually, it's very good. But I live for the crust, and the waffles. And unexpectedly, for the potato salad as well, which is very Sunday church picnic, with lots of mayonnaise to bind it together.
But then, this isn't Roscoe's Chicken `n Potato Salad. It's waffles that must be ordered. And for good reason — they're remarkable, crispy with a smooth, elegant flavor, a real “waffle” flavor, made with “our private mix.” They come slathered in butter, with syrup to pour all over them.
The fried chicken is an adult dish. But the waffles — that makes us all feel like kids, all over again. It's a happy dish, in a happy restaurant. Enjoy it, before the Sunday football crowds descend.