Road Trip: Spillway ‘Stupified’ Wings in Bowling Green
Stupified wings at Spillway Bar and Grill live up to their name. Photos by Kevin Gibson
One of my favorite things about going out of town is finding local dining and drinking gems. I didn’t have to drive too far to find Spillway Bar and Grill in Bowling Green, Ky.
Spillway is part bar, part eatery and part music venue that’s located not too far from the city’s downtown. My buddy Butch and I were in town recently for the Duncan Hines Days festival, an annual event honoring a hometown hero who happened to help bring baked goods to the forefront in America. We’ve been to this festival on a couple of occasions to check out one of my all-time favorite bands, Government Cheese, who formed in Bowling Green in 1985 and is currently celebrating its 40th anniversary, and we had returned to see them yet again.
Anyway, back to Spillway. I found it on Google, it seemed cool, so we stopped in. It’s an unassuming little joint, and the vibe is sort of that of a well maintained dive bar. Folks were clacking sticks and balls on the nearby pool table, while locals sat drinking and half-heartedly peering up at flatscreen TVs. The stage was on the far end of the room, having hosted acts ranging from Chris Stapleton to Shooter Jennings to LA Guns.
Family-owned Spillway, now in its 27th year in the space of a former muffler shop, is known for its wings and its hospitality, and Butch and I were determined to get a taste of both. Neither disappointed.
We kicked our session off with an order of fried cheese curds, which could stand up even to some of the curds I’ve had in Wisconsin. From there, we ordered wings: for Butch, it was five of the Spillway Sauce wings, a house concoction of Habanero peppers and apricot. It was a unique, sweet sauce with a back-end bite, and it formed a sticky glaze on the meaty, crisp wings. Thumbs up there.
Of course, if you know me at all, you know I was all in on whatever was the hottest on the menu — and that sauce was called Stupified (on the menu, it is listed as “XXX Hot,” with an upcharge of $1.75 per 10 wings.) I went for it, and the first thing out of the bartender’s mouth was, “Are you sure?”
I love a challenge.
Butch said, “Don’t worry, he can handle it.”
She said, “We’ll see,” adding that Stupified wings are “the gift that keeps on giving.”
Undaunted, I dug quickly into the wings when they arrived, glistening a bright and menacing red-orange color. I got through one wing, and one of the regulars at the bar commented that I was off to a good start, adding that she had taken one bite of a Stupified wing once and got no farther.
Honestly, it really just tasted like an extra robust Buffalo sauce to me, with a flavor depth I couldn’t quite place. Three wings in, I was still going strong, even if the promised kick was starting to assert itself. (I admit I did buffer a bit with the chunky blue cheese on the side.)
By wing No. 5, however, my nose was running. Also, I was starting to get full — these were BIG wings. And yes, the heat was making itself a semi-permanent home on my palate. But it was no less delicious. After No. 7, however, I decided to get myself a to-go box to have a light lunch the following day. I think I could have gone on, but I can’t lie — it might have made for a long night at the Government Cheese show.
Gratuitous photo of Government Cheese, no extra charge.
I asked one of the bartenders what drives the heat in the Stupified sauce. She said it was a sauce called Mad Dog, and that the kitchen only puts two or three drops in per batch. Mad Dog was a “sauce” I was familiar with, insomuch as it isn’t a sauce at all, but rather a capsaicin extract. As in, pure capsaicin. To the tune of 9 million Scoville units of heat.
I mean, that stuff technically isn’t even food. But you know what? I’ll order them again next time we hit Duncan Hines Days. Between the good food, the interesting menu (there’s a ho cake dish called “The Blob”) and the ultra-friendly service, I think I would make the two-hour trek, Government Cheese or not.
