The Heat Beneath My Wings

I often say my tolerance for heat is, in comparison to most, sadistic. So with some conjecture, you can easily discern that I would be partial to hot wings. The term is liberally applied though. Not every plate passed off as hot wings deliver of the hot part.

Shrooms though; with its ‘Nuke Wings’ lives up to the name and then some. To begin with, you have a fried wing that is both crisp and tender. Well; not just tender, that would be an almost an insult. The meat was the most yielding of any wing I have ever had. Off the bone and in my face hole with no effort at all.

I guess that’s what’s meant by a false sense of security. Once you start eating, a flavour ‘Nuke’ goes off on your palate. The piquancy creeps up behind you but is front and centre soon enough.

Once it does, that’s all you need.

The flavour of a good hot wing should be balanced as such as to manage both the creeping crescendo of the caliente. It should also be able to pack a knock-out worthy punch of flavour.  Shrooms does both here to perfection! You are first treated to an aromatic assembly consisting of earthy notes, the kind you get from spices likes cumin. Those are then built up on by the mellow depth from garlic and the fruitiness of the chilli. The piquancy comes a little later and sets the fire ablaze, completing the symphony.

It does them great credit that the meat on their wings falls off with such minimal effort. I’ve had wings where let alone the meat, the sauce didn’t even release from the bone, without some great disparity of effort. There is a carnal satisfaction to be received from pulling meat off the bone with your teeth. Vegans turn away indeed.

 

Salvation

I know I am supposed to finish posting about Coya(Dubai)  but the occurrences of last night require immediate and particular attention. This was hands down THE BEST MEAL I have ever had. No shortage of thanks can be given to the company but food went as far to knock my socks off, bring me to my knees and beg for continued salvation.

By a stroke of sheer luck, I ended up at SteaK_CFU and now I’m left wondering when and how often should such luck repeat itself. As you know the shed visits every table and I chose to submit to his vision. Probably the best decision because the chief of my time was spent conquering this mammoth of a dinner rather than going over menus and waiting for the food with growing impatience.

This is a meal that demands to be savoured. Demands to be enjoyed leisurely. There is no other way. Should you eat too hastily, you wouldn’t get enough time to appreciate how well the steak was cooked. Perfectly medium-rare from tip to tip. Boasting a flavour so rich yet so simple, bite after bite, an existential crisis ensues.

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A better look at the steak served.

Why on earth did you ever settle for anything less? Why did you ever chase the fancy names and the imported meats when salvation existed so close to home?

Everything on the plate compliments the meat. The garlic amplifies the sweet richness. The spinach purée provides additional richness and ease. The vegetables provide a break. The salad adds freshness, the potatoes provide a platform and the various acids provide balance.

We do not need to venture far for salvation. It’s here and it has a name. CFU

Note: This was migrated over from my Instagram