Top 10 foods I miss from Western New York

Pittsburgh and Buffalo share many things in common: Both are former steel industrial cities, and both saw their heyday about 100 years ago.

And both have some of the most amazing food offerings you'll ever see.

I haven't spent much time in Pittsburgh; my sister went to Pitt and I haven't ben back since. Perhaps that's for another blog. (The Original has the best french fries in the world, FYI.)

I've lived all over Western New York, and to truly appreciate the variety of foods offered there one needs to travel beyond Buffalo and visit its kid brother city, Rochester, and its western suburb, Canada.

Behold: The top 10 foods I miss most from Western New York:

1. Chicken wings (Anchor Bar)

I live in Boston now. Every so often I'm at a restaurant and my friends and I enter the discussion about which place in Boston has the best wings. And it's not even a conversation worth having.

Two years ago I brought my brothers-in-law and a cousin-in-law to Buffalo for my bachelor party. We went to the Anchor Bar for dinner. It was the first time in years I had been there. And thankfully, the place that started it all still produces some of the best wings anywhere.

2. Mom's beer can chicken

Every summer, my neighbors and I throw a couple huge cookouts. One lady makes about 150 Jello shots, another brings some Ethiopian chili to die for. I make a beer-can chicken. And while I learned from the master (my Mom), nothing can truly replicate the feeling of hanging out on the back patio with a Labatt in your hand waiting for the chicken to crisp.

3. Ted's hot dogs/onion rings

To date I've never found an onion ring that rivals the deep-fried mess from Ted's. The crispy conglomeration you get in the grease-soaked wax paper just can't be beat.

Last summer my Mom brought Sahlen's hot dogs (which are used at Ted's) and a jar of Ted's secret chili sauce. I've been able to make a reasonable facsimile of a Ted's hot dog here, but it can never match the real thing.

4. A Labatt Blue ordered in Canada

Labatts is pretty much the gold standard in Buffalo, but the formula exported to America is different from the formula you get when it's ordered domestically. A Blue not only tastes better in Canada, but I'm pretty sure it has more alcohol in it. That, or I just drink more of them when I'm in Canada. Because let's face it, there's not much else to do in Canada.

5. Chicken Wing Pizza

I make a mean chicken wing pizza, using Country Sweet sauce as the base. But I can't get the right kind of blue cheese in Boston to really do it justice.

My college roommate and I invented the chicken wing pizza recipe that I still use today.

True story: Once when I was a reporter in Canandaigua, N.Y., I called a pizza place to order some dinner before a long night of City Council meeting coverage. Over the phone, I explained to the owner my recipe, and asked that he make one such pizza for me. He did, and it was excellent.

A couple weeks later my friend and I went there for lunch. And guess what was on the menu.

No royalties for me, though. I call shenanigans.

6. Beef on weck

There's a bar across from the Boston Garden that shows the Bills games on a big screen every season. It's a lot of fun to be surrounded by 200 Bills fans in downtown Boston each year.

Last year they held a big fundraiser, and contracted with a local bakery to make Kimmelweck rolls specifically for this day. They were magnificent. But you cant find them anywhere else.

There's a roast beef sandwich joint not far from our house that I have yet to try. I keep my fingers crossed, hoping the Roast Beef gods will shine on me*. We'll see.

*My proof that Roast Beef gods exist lies in the fact that Arbys is so successful. I.E. if Arbys can be successful with that substance they call roast beef, then they surely made a pact with the Devil. Vis a vis, if the Devil exists, then the Roast Beef Gods must also exist, and therefore are carving up little red slices of heaven elsewhere in the universe.

7. Dinosaur BBQ anything

Dinosaur Barbecue may be found in Rochester, Syracuse, and ... Harlem? They have smoked wings that are unparallelled, and fried okra that tastes just like Grandma used to make.

Speaking of Grandma ...

8. Grandma's strawberry rhubarb pie

This strawberry rhubarb pie is a virtual wonder in that rhubarb, on its own, does not taste good. It takes a special upper level of cooking skill to make rhubarb taste good in anything. That my grandma can do that on a consistent basis is nothing short of amazing.

9. Chicken wings (Duff's)

I suppose if you're talking about Western New York food you have to mention wings at least once, right/ This marks the third time wings have made my list.

True story: Duff's makes a "Suicide Sauce" that you have to know to ask for; it's not on their menu (at least, it wasn't at the time in which this story takes place). It's delicious, and I don't think I've ever gotten past eating two wings drenched in this hot red death.

Once in high school a bunch of us went there before Swing Choir practice. We dared Greg Baumler to drink a bottlecap full of suicide sauce. He couldn't speak for four hours.

10. Chicken wings (Country Sweet)

OK - so wings make it a fourth time on this list.

I often cook with Country Sweet (HQ'd in Rochester) or use it as a dipping sauce. But to really experience the sweet sin of the C.S., one has to have it in its natural state: On top of batter-fried wings lumped onto a pile of french fries and the random two slices of white bread.

You get extra points for eating the white bread, by the way. I've rarely done this sober.

My apologies.

Grady wanted to post a reply to my rant about Rochester radio, in which I slight the city I called home for 10 years. But it got a little long, so here's a link to Grady's rebuttal.

Crap radio be gone!

So it's been over a year since Marcy and I moved from a relative cultural prairie, that being Rochester, N.Y., to a deep pool of knowledge and culture, that being Boston.

That made it all the more strange when Marcy and I tried to locate ONE good classical station here.

Then she told me WXXI, the Rochester classical station, broadcasts streaming audio. I spent the large part of my morning today listening to all manner of classical stuff.

The problem I have with classical stations is when they're run like a different format. Take classic rock: You hear Devil Went Down to Georgia on your way to work in the morning and the next day, you might hear it again on your way home.

But I don't want to hear the same opera recording in the same 48-hour period. Or that week, for that matter, unless it's one of my favorite tunes and even then please for God's sake play a different recording or arrangement.

Me Laura! Me want chip!

On saturday, Marcy, Laura and I trekked to the bustling metropolis of Scotia, NY for my cousin Steph's graduation party (h.s.). We had a blast catching up with the fam, plus it was the first time Marcy met my dad's side of the fam. (She still has to meet the extended side of my mom's family as well). So we had fun with my grandma, Mimi:



and Dad got his Father's Day gift from Laura and Marcy and I, a set of new patio chairs to chill on:



And I ate cake.

I CLIMBED A FRIGGIN MOUNTAIN.

Don't believe me? Eat this:


That's me with Marcy's dad on top of Mount Jo. Mt. Jo is in the Adirondacks and is a "small" mountain, meaning it's not considered one of the 46 high peaks.

Not a high peak? My ass! I was climbin' up sheer rock for crumb's sake! I got stung by something that ate my leg! And I kissed my fiance on the top of the mountain. All in all, a great day.

Sabres, don't quit now.

We're down. But we're not out.

And Brett Hull can kiss my ass.