Stupid Hot Wings
I was roaming around Thayer Street last night looking for a bite after a tiring day that included getting my oil changed, a haircut and a trip to the Wrentham outlets with my mom — clearly a long day in need of some reward.
In this case, I stumbled across Baja’s Tex and Mex Grill, a restaurant that I hadn’t noticed before. One of the guys who works there told me they had been open for about a year (goes to show how often I’m on Thayer). They specialize in make-your-own burritos and Philly cheese steaks, but in continuing my search for the meanest and grittiest hot wings in the state, I skipped their signature items and went straight for the wings. I asked the guy at the counter which sauce was spicier: Suicide or Stupid. In my mind, both names sounded equally dangerous and just reading the menu had my mouth watering in a juxtaposition of fear and delight. His answer was Stupid, making my choice on what to order simple.
After about ten minutes, the wings came out doused in a bright orange sauce and their scent stung my nostrils as I inhaled. The first bite is always a little scary because I’m never sure if my face will melt off or if my mouth will live to eat another day. These wings were definitely spicy, but if the After Burner sauce from Wings Over Providence was like a battle, Baja’s Stupid sauce was like an afternoon walk through Downtown in the middle of July: hot and uncomfortable, but bearable.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t left with a runny nose or teary eyes, my personal benchmark for measuring spice. Eating wings covered with Stupid sauce was more enjoyable than it was agonizing and at about $8 for ten wings and fries, it’s also affordable.
Alas, I’m still waiting for the day that I need to sign a waiver before I take on a plate of wings.