Big Gay Ice Cream Guys Eat Wings at Hooters

Posted by The Serious Eats Team, February 3, 2010 at 12:30 PM

Editor's note: Please welcome Bryan Petroff, known to New Yorkers as half of the duo behind the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck—the boldest soft-serve toppers in the Mister Softee universe.

Bryan, left; Doug, right; the lovely Gabrielle, top row, third from left. [Photos: Carey Jones]

It's not every day you are invited on a date and the destination is Hooters—particularly when you are gay, already in a relationship, and the invitation comes from two women. Fellow Big Gay Ice Cream Truck driver Doug Quint and I had just such a moment recently when Carey and Erin from Serious Eats asked us out for a double date.

Our own Sadie Hawkins Day had a purpose—in honor of the fast-approaching Super Bowl, why not go and check out those famous Hooters wings? When we think of Hooters, the first thing we all think about is wings. Right?

The only Hooters in Manhattan is strategically located in the Theater District, taking advantage of tourists both from the U.S. (that aren't willing to try something they haven't heard of before) and from outside the country (looking for a sampling of that great American classic: the Hooters Girl). The two times Doug and I were at Hooters in recent months, the place was full of tourists—in particular, barely legal, wide-eyed, noticeably randy Brits. A midtown location also means plenty of locals—groups of coworkers (of both sexes) unwinding during happy hour with huge platters of wings and decently priced pitchers of beer.

But forgive me a moment's nostalgia. Growing up just outside of Daytona Beach placed me squarely at the intersection of beach and Nascar cultures—with a healthy dose of theme park and a dash of good ol' redneck. So the Hooters experience brings that all back: the Hooters Girls (Spring Break, anyone?); the fried food; sports as the only thing on TV; even the rolls of paper towels on the dining tables. Hell, growing up, we even had the same pressed-wood bowls and plates that seem to be the only thing Hooters uses to serve their food.

Breaded wings. Often imitated, hardly ever duplicated.

But why were we there? Ah yes—those wings. Surprise, surprise, they were actually quite tasty. First of all, get 'em unbreaded. They go in the fryer regardless, and it's better to just avoid all that extraneous batter.

Unbreaded.

Granted, without that breading they look much more meager—but you'll get a much better wing. And it's worth it to pay the surcharge for all drummettes (10 pieces for $11.99 without surcharge; +$2.50, with.) You'll get nothing but the meatier pieces.

Doug likes his wings—but not too spicy.

Everyone but me chose the traditional hot sauce as a favorite, and I agree that it was quite good. Traditional Buffalo sauce is simply hot sauce and butter, in varying amounts, and the "Hot" had a much better balance than the mild or medium. Doug is actually quite timid when it comes to spicy food. He picked hot as his favorite, but admitted it was as spicy as he would go.

Unbreaded, with "Hot" sauce: the people's choice.

But I'd rather go even spicier; the hot was just a starting point. I preferred both of the next two—the 911 and the Three Mile Island. Neither was as five-alarm as it sounded. About on par with the hot sauce, as far as heat goes, there was a depth of spice and flavor in those two that was missing from the more straightforward sauces. We all agreed on the sauces we didn't like—the medium, the mild and the Thai chili.

The full sauce lineup, courtesy of Gabrielle.

Here, I have to stop and give props again to Gabrielle. We explained what we wanted—a mix of wings, all the different sauces to taste—and asked her opinion on all of them. Her assessment was spot on: medium and mild were just too buttery, the Thai chili was uninspired.

The oh-so-happy author.

"Delightfully tacky, yet unrefined," reads the Hooters slogan—it's dead-on. And there's nothing wrong with that. In a sense, it may even be a bit quaint. Cleavage and Daisy Dukes just seem so old-school in a world of Jersey Shore, Lady Gaga, and A&F ads. With pantyhose under their shorts, the Hooters girls look more like figure skaters than strippers.

And though it may sound strange to say, in its own way, the service at Hooters is on par with any other New York restaurant that cares about its customers—attentive but not intrusive. It may be flirty, but it's not scripted. The servers know their menu well, and are honest about what they like; there's no rush out the door to make way for the next seating.

Where else will you find Lindsey, who leaves you a little napkin keepsake with a big heart drawn on it? Or Gabrielle, who tells us that she goes by the name "Destiny" when the customers are being asses—so when they complain, it can't be traced back to her? Okay, honestly, you can probably find that at Lucky Cheng's too. But you can't find that tacky unrefinement this Florida boy occasionally craves, which always reminds him of home.

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Tags: Big Gay Ice Cream Truck, chicken wings, Hooters, Manhattan, Midtown West, wings