You Gotta Eat: Buffalo Wild Wings Grill & Bar

Winging it: Buffalo Wild Wings does chicken right

By Andrew Kiraly

Chicken wings--that finger-friendly staple of Super Bowl shindig, kiddie party and guys' night out alike--are the new hamburger. What do they clamor for at Monday Night Football, at office parties? Wings! How goes the battle cry of the blue collar Joe who wants some fun with his food? Wings! What can Atkins freak and non-dieter alike agree on? Wings!

Thus we witness the rise of Buffalo Wild Wings, the chicken-centric chain that's moved into Las Vegas over the past year. While the phrase "bar food" may conjure nightmare visions of jalapeno poppers and mozzarella sticks haunting like ghosts of dyspepsia past, Buffalo Wild Wings embraces the designation--and breaks its limits, making for a place where bar food has been transformed from afterthought to art form: Burgers, salads and, of course, wings come in as many varieties as the beer.

As for ambience, well, imagine stepping into a sports bar as envisioned by Disney or eating in Best Buy's TV department. On our inaugural trip to the chain's northwest location off Durango Drive and Centennial Parkway, we counted 23 televisions, including five big-screens, all blaring athletic vigor and American enterprise. Amid the televised sports, decent service--and disappointing realization that the chain generally favors plastic utensils and paper plates over the real stuff--we prepared to chow down, kicking off with a couple 16-ounce Fat Tire amber ales ($3.75) and six wings ($3.99) set to "Hot"--at the spicy end of a 12-flavor spectrum that embraces everything from "Smoky Southwestern" to "Blazin'." Yeah, the hype is justified. The wings were great: enjoyably messy, crisp and tender in all the right places, served up with blue cheese and celery sticks. For entrees, we ordered up a Swiss and 'Shroom Burger ($5.59) and a Chicken Tender Salad ($6.99). Both scored on the good side of standard; particularly the salad, whose spiced-up chicken chunks offered a nice kick to contrast the cool salad crunch. Heads swimming with beer, tummies begging for more, we got naughty and threw in some potato wedges smothered with cheddar cheese ($2.59)--tasty--and a Bloody Mary ($5), made with Absolut Peppar, to wash it all down. Suitably refreshing, though we had to ask twice for the standard olive and celery stick. Then we sank back into our booth in blissful, digestive torpor, turned off our brains and indulged in that all-American Zen ritual of just watching the game. That's the real dessert.