The élan with which true aficionados attack a steaming platter of Buffalo wings is at once fascinating and terrifying. The single mindedness of their behavior – eschewing drink, napkin, and decorum – can only be understood in terms of a drug addict trying to achieve the sensation of their first “high.” Indeed, it is the endorphins released by the bucketful that try to counteract the searing pain brought on by the gluttonous consumption of capsaicin that is very much like an addict’s reaction to drugs.
Pulled chicken makes it that much easier.
A small pile of bones is the only reminder that here once stood a small mountain of chicken wings. Indeed, it is quite a delicate maneuver to devour the meat from a fryer-hot chicken wing slathered in hot sauce, balancing the hot and slippery mess without scorching your lips or letting it slip from your fingertips is a learned art.
Pulled chicken on the other hand, is downright safe, comparatively. A cold, dry boiled piece of chicken breast is turned into a pile of shredded meat in short order. The advantage is that there are no bones to contend with, if you clean and shred the chicken properly.
This isn’t a recipe per se, the same way spreading mustard on a hot dog isn’t a recipe. I took a portion of shredded chicken, added hot sauce and margarine, heated it up and turned it to coat, and slapped it into a bun.
And I’m not ashamed to say I did it twice.