Why are Buffalo Wings So Addictive?
A One-Year Challenge...
Americans eat more chickens each year than there are people on the planet—nine billion.
In college, my weekly Friday night wing runs felt like more than a mere feather in that bucket. The Rutgers grease trucks had fancy names like Stuff Yer Face and Cluck U! They also had no shame, delivering large chickens right to my furry little talons on the twelfth floor of Hardenberg dorm room. I became a night owl junk food hunter. Like a gremlin, food tastes better after midnight and I availed myself of every option, devouring dozens of hot wings at 1 a.m., trying not to wake my sleeping roommate. For lighter prey, I swooped downstairs to the dorm room vending machines, wearing my baggiest winged cargo pants to transport my shame snacks, carefully hiding my twitchy, hollow bird eyes from the freshman working front desk security.
Today I eat seitan fake wings. Last Superbowl, we made this super easy vegan buffalo cauliflower “chicken” dip. The substitutes are always tasty and fun.
And yet…
I end up back in the grease-boneyard, like this guy.
Maybe it’s the sauce. Butter and hot sauce = Fat + Salt—two addictive components of processed food. Then there’s the heat. Spicy food releases endorphins. For an adrenaline junkie like myself, that’s chicken catnip.
My pledge for this Independence Day post: I’m gonna kick hot wings cold. ONE YEAR of no buffalo wings. Freeeeeeeeedom! See you on July 4th, 2025!
Update: Jane says I’m gonna kick tomorrow. Cluck U too, Justin.