When you walk in, you’ll notice mid-2010s indie rock blaring from the speakers and an eclectic assortment of vintage college pennants lining the walls, among other random stuff. (Think: a life-sized boat; cathedral chandeliers; retired beer taps as decor.) But this place has a tenured history in Buffalo. It was established by namesake Herb Cole in 1934, and was the first Buffalo bar to be issued a license after the end of Prohibition. Cole’s was purchased in the early ’70s by David Shatzal Sr., a bar owner’s son from nearby Lackawanna, New York. Now, the bar is owned by his grandson, Mike.
If you’re looking for more than classic wings, the sweet and spicy honey Cajun wings from Cole’s are my pick. They lean more hot-honey than spicy Cajun, but are nonetheless tasty. Plus, I love that these wings have grill marks. Charbroiling gives them a little extra texture.
Order: A single order of hot wings (10), a local beer, such as Thin Man’s Pills Mafia, and a single order of honey cajun (10) if you’re with a friend—or just really, really hungry.
Mammoser’s
Mammoser’s is a family-owned restaurant that’s been in business since 1937; in the prior century, Mammoser’s acted as a stable. At present, the vibe is more local watering hole than water trough. Fair warning: Mammoser’s boasts a long and narrow space that is not fit for the claustrophobic among us. (Don’t get me started on the women’s bathroom in the basement.) Layout aside, the wings have a cult following and the atmosphere is upbeat thanks to the enthusiastic bartenders who make a strong mixed drink.
Mammoser’s wings have a drier, almost “pasty” sauce, as a local once described it to me. While this might sound off-putting, wing gourmands go out of their way to try these. The pastiness of Mammoser’s hot wings owes to a dry rub—no butter, no margarine—with a distinct chili pepper heat that isn’t for the faint of heart. (Don’t go here if mild or medium’s your thing.) Legend has it that the sauce’s inventor, Phyllis Mammoser, was a spicy-food fanatic, but wanted to create a wing sauce that didn’t use the standard Frank’s-and-butter combo.
Now, Mammoser’s has enough fans of that signature pasty wing sauce to sell it by the half gallon. These wings are worthy of their hype, but could cause debate if you bring a group of friends. Pasty may be an acquired taste, but if you ask me, it’s a pretty good one.
Order: A single order of hot wings (10) and a soda or vodka-ginger ale.
Bar-Bill Tavern
Bar-Bill was named by its former owners, Barb and Bill Korzelius, but bought in the late ’70s by Joe Giafaglione, an aerospace engineer who decided to quit his corporate job for the restaurant life. By the ’80s, Joe had perfected his beef on weck sandwiches and wings that draw in just about everyone in Erie County.
There’s an artistry to the wings at Bar-Bill’s. In the kitchen each one is hand-painted with sauce before deployment to your table or barstool. Bar-Bill has a heat streak that’s competitive with Duff’s. Even I, a heat-seeker, have difficulty getting through these classic, potently spicy wings. The extra hot wings induce tears, a runny nose and spine tingling. Hot will do it for the average bear. Medium in some cases. And I’d advise against getting the suicidal wings (the highest heat level)—they’re strong stuff.
