When The Wing’s The Thing

Chicken wings are often viewed as a food of the everyman. They’ve not yet been co-opted by haute cuisine chefs, thus far escaping a similar fate as the hifalutin hotdog or bougie burger. It’s hard to beat the appeal of a well seasoned wing, so this week my aim was to uncover some of the best specimens Toronto has to offer.

The search began innocently enough. A chat with a coworker yielded a promise of tasty wings near a downtown concert venue; thus providing the inspiration for this article. There are as many kinds of wings available in Toronto as there are opinions that cherish or denounce them, it seems. Reaching out to friends, family, coworkers and the internet resulted in a laundry list of options, and aside from a few chain shoutouts (not to be included here) I had never sampled any of those being discussed with such gusto.

My first stop was Squirly’s (807 Queen Street West), a tiny storefront west of Bathurst that I’d barely noticed each time I walked by. Finding the address, my guest noted how curious a city Toronto could be. In any smaller city, the dinginess of the front entrance would detract guests from crossing the threshold, but on Queen Street it’s just part of the indie mystique. The interior of the restaurant may be gaudy with leopard print ceilings, pitted drywall and mannequin busts, but the wings (8 for $9.75, with salad) are grilled, not overly sauced, and succulent, with a pleasantly lingering afterbite that burns the outline of my lips. I rate them slightly above average, though the inclusion of a side salad rather than veggie sticks was warmly welcomed. I could discern no fried foods on the menu, so the wings may be grilled out of necessity, rather than health concerns.

Stop two was the pub that started this mess; Kilgour’s Bar Meets Grill (509 Bloor Street West). I had high hopes for this bar, and for consistency’s sake ordered medium sauce again. When the decently-sized wings arrived (6 for $5.99), they were crisp from the fryer, doused with sauce, and char-marked from a finish on the grill. The stars seemed aligned for a transcendent experience, but after one bite; confusion. At first I thought I had gotten an unsauced nibble, so I tried again. There was no discernible heat at all. The sauce tasted like a mixture of ketchup and brown sugar, with not even a hint of heat or tang, and for medium, it was disappointingly bland. The fry/grill combo produced a perfect texture, but the lack of real seasoning would deter me from ordering these again.

By my third trip for wings, I began questioning the intelligence of this experiment; after all, woman cannot live on wings alone. The Wheat Sheaf Tavern (667 King Street West) is reputedly the oldest in Toronto, and one would assume they couldn’t possibly last that long without serving semi-decent wings. Coincidentally, that’s exactly what they were. On the smaller side of average, the medium wings (10 for $9.95) were not terribly spicy, a tad overdone and coated with radioactively red wing sauce. They’d do in a pinch, but I wouldn’t go out of my way for them.

The most surprising find occurred at Allen’s (143 Danforth Avenue) where the smoky, subtly spicy Manhattan capon wings (9 for $9.25) served with a lusciously creamy blue cheese dip made a convert of me, the most vocal of blue cheese dissenters. The wings were everything (and more) that I wanted them to be, quite easily my favourite of the bunch. Enjoying them amidst the canopy of gigantic trees on the sun-dappled back patio one lunch hour wasn’t too shabby, either.

Wings at McSorley’s Saloon (1544 Bayview Avenue) came highly recommended, but their medium (5 chicken “arms” for $7.99) was the most lukewarm of the bunch. The menu described these wings as lovingly grilled, and with the amount of char evident on the wing tips (the arms here are the whole wing piece, drumette, tip and all) I have no reason to doubt this. The wings also gave off a hint of propane, and while some may enjoy this, I found it detracted from the overall appeal. Not a bad wing if you’re local, but certainly not worth the drive from my neck of town.

The last spot I hit on this overindulgent wing trip was the Old York Bar & Grill (167 Niagara Street) a suggestion culled from the reams of options on the topic of wings on a Chowhound message board. At the time I had a nagging feeling that I’d been to or heard of this place before, but it wasn’t until I was standing in front of the building that it dawned on me; this place was once on Restaurant Makeover. Given that the episode was from season two of the reno show, I felt their continued existence was probably a good sign. Their wings are marinated (10 for $10.95, with fries and salad) in a yogurt-based jerk sauce, baked, then finished on the grill. When first presented with the plate, I was disappointed by their lack of heat, but a dip in the aforementioned side of yogurt sauce redeemed them. Definitely not as overtly spicy as a true jerk sauce, nonetheless these wings proved surprisingly addictive.

My own personal recommendations and caveats gleaned from years of wing noshing include Harbour Sports Grille (10 Yonge Street) where the medium is tongue-tinglingly spicy and the atmosphere is ideal for scarfing wings chased by beers. Chico’s Gourmet Pizza’s (796 Mount Pleasant Road) consistently sinus-clearing vinegar-based wings always made a wonderful accompaniment to their pizza, and are one of the things I miss most about Yonge and Eglinton. Around the corner is the other establishment I regularly pine for, serving up churrasco-style chicken drummettes that’ll make your day at Churrasco Villa (254 Eglinton Avenue East). The biggest disappointment I’ve met with thus far came at the hands of Lou Dawg’s Southern Sandwiches (589 King Street West) where the enticing-sounding smoked dry rub wings turned out to be powdery and completely unappetizing, the one resounding thud at an otherwise recommendable barbecue shack.

After close to 4 weeks of eating wings everywhere I went, I’m ready to take a break for a while. There were some highs, and definitely a few lows, but overall I think I managed to prove that Toronto holds a few gems, and plenty more places that showed potential. But as I said at the start, everything written here must be taken with a grain of salt because opinions on wings are varied, prolific and personal. If there’s a wing joint you think I left out, leave a note in the comments, I’d love to hear all about it.

Porsha Perreault is a freelance writer, voracious eater, amateur charcutier, and chocolate enthusiast living in Little Italy. She can often be found sourcing the newest developments in heirloom and heritage fruits and veg and other local delicacies at farmer's markets around Toronto or blogging about her obsession with food at Foodie and the Everyman. While she adores a good wing, she’s really looking forward to a few weeks of salad after finishing this article.