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These wings are a blend of Moroccan, Korean, Mexican and American seasonings. Each seasoning brings warmth, heat, salt, sweet, and spicy overtones. Try some with just the dry rub on them, and some with the sauce, or enjoy them with both, which is what I recommend.

Wings:

2 lbs. Chicken wings

2 tbsp. Baking powder

1 tbsp. Corn starch

Parchment paper

Dry rub:

2 tsp. Intrepid Bay Marrakesh seasoning blend

2 tsp. Intrepid Bay Honey BBQ blend

1 tsp. Tajin

Sauce:

1/4 c. Ketchup

2 tbsp. Heinz chili sauce

1 tbsp. Korean Gochujang paste

1. Preheat oven to 450F

2. Lay out some paper towels on a baking sheet and pat the chicken wings dry.

3. Blend the baking powder and cornstarch together. Sprinkle on top of the wings and lightly rub the mixture in so they are coated. Flip and do the same to the backside. Add parchment paper to the baking sheets and lay the wings out.

4. Roast at 450 for 32 minutes, be sure to turn them over halfway through roasting.

5. Blend the Marrakesh, Honey BBQ, and Tajin seasoning together in a large mixing bowl.

6. Mix the ketchup, chili sauce, and gochujang paste together.

7. Take the wings out of the oven and toss them with the dry rub in the large mixing bowl. Brush them with the sauce and serve.

Hee-Young opened the door and stepped out into the cold morning air. The calls of distant crows echoed off of the snow covered mountains. She paused, took several cleansing breaths of clear mountain air, and walked to her studio. She turned on two work lamps positioned over her wedging table, then made her way to the other side of the studio and turned on another set of lamps next to her throwing wheel. She turned on a small hotplate as well as an electronic radiator next to her work station. She opened the door to her small wood burning stove and started a fire. She then placed a small kettle of water on the top. The studio was now illuminated in golden light, which was a warm contrast against the blue darkness of the early winter morning. It was the only sign of life in the small mountain village. She made her way back to the house to pour another cup of tea have a small breakfast. She watched the sky transition from night into day and then made her way back to the now-warm studio. She uncovered a slab of clay and wedged it into several cone-shaped mounds, then brought it to her wheel. This was how she spent her days.

The first time Charlie saw her he was mesmerized by her skill and artistry. He watched her in her environment, fixated on how she had designed a beautiful world inside her studio. Her wheel had been built into a wood platform and recessed into it, providing a perfect ergonomic height. Her wooden pottery boards could be stacked on top of the series of dowel rods that were positioned overhead and alongside the south-facing bank of windows. Her environment was a blend of art and science, form and function. What was more fascinating to him was how beautiful she was. Her dark, lustrous hair, her piercing eyes, her smooth porcelain skin. He had been traveling through the remote regions of South Korea on a geology trip, and had stumbled upon this village while making his way back to Seoul. While Hee-Young did not conform to the beauty standards of Koreans, Charlie was nonetheless enamored with her. He immediately fell in love. She didn’t seem very interested. She had her studio and her clay and her tea. This was enough for her.

He asked her questions about her life there. She was shy and a little skeptical at first but she eventually opened up. “I’ve always lived in the village and I love the mountains here,” she said. “When I was young I spent a lot of time outside, playing in the mountain streams and out in the forest. I spent a lot of time near the temple. My mother had a camera and I used to take pictures of all the colorful things I would see. I would try to capture the texture of things and how they felt to me. I played in the snow and would break off icicles from the temple eaves. I had a game where I would try to break them free in one piece so I could play with them. My mom and I would bury oranges in the snow to cool them. They were a treat. Now I spend my days making pottery because I love it. It gives me time to feel the earth with my hands. I made a glaze that’s just like the melting snow in March. I use it on my pieces because it’s a reflection of the environment I love.”

He watched her expertly form small teacups and bowls. He watched her methodically trim the dry pieces, mesmerized by the shaved curls of clay that would lightly fall to the wheel. He loved listening to the hum of the wheel, the sounds of her trimming each piece, the light rain of small clay particles falling into the splash pan. He could spend a hundred years there and be happy. But Charlie had a life waiting for him in the states, and he had to leave. To her, he was an interesting and curious person. But that was that. She had a life here in the mountains and he was just passing through.

The next time Hee-Young saw Charlie she was in the Catskills. She was there as a visiting artist. She had fallen in love with the mountains and the kind people there. She was given an opportunity to stay longer and she had excitedly accepted the offer. She had been filled with a renewed energy while working and exploring the Hudson up to the Adirondacks and had found new friends along the way. She was attending a small party and found Charlie in the kitchen. He couldn’t believe his luck. As they stood in the kitchen, he saw her warm smile and was overcome with gratitude that he had another chance to be with her. He was cooking for the party. “I’m so glad to see you again! So you are the friend Allison was telling me about. I can’t believe this, isn’t it weird?” She laughed. “It is. It is so weird. It’s unbelievable!” Hee-Young watched Charlie prepare chicken wings. “I love chicken. There is a place in my small village that makes the best fried chicken and beer. I love going there!”

Charlie expertly tossed the wings in some kind of flour. “I use a little corn meal and baking powder on the wings instead of flour. I put a light coat on them and then bake them at high heat.” She watched him pull a tray of finished wings from the oven. “Then, I add my special secret blend of dry spices. Paprika, chilies, pepper, bay, ginger, garlic, cardamom, a little bit of everything. The key is to bake them at high heat and then use the spices after they have been in the oven. This brings out the warmth of the spices without destroying their flavor.”

Hee-Young noticed how his cooking related to her art, and she saw him in a different light that night. She saw his effort and care, his artistry, and his bright blue eyes. He looked up from his workstation and smiled. “Would you like to go to dinner with me? I know a great fried chicken place that serves beer.”
She leaned back against the refrigerator and smiled. Of course she would.

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