The Mighty Quinn’s stand at Berg’N, a beer hall that features a rotating cast of four food stalls, has held down the number four slot for a long time. It’s not the flagship of the Mighty Quinn’s empire, more like an outpost. But once I started ordering from there, I haven’t ordered from anyplace else at Berg’N.
If I weren’t writing a wing blog, I might be writing a barbecue blog. But the facts being what they are, I got an order of wings. Now, there are two competing facts that make this review tough to write. Number 1: the sevice, that day, was attrocious. Number 2: The wings were delicious.
I’ve ordered several times from Mighty Quinn’s and the service was only bad that once. But it was rough. Something like a half hour wait. No communication. And it was clear my order didn’t make it from the register to the kitchen until minute 20 or so. On to the wings.
Sticky, sweet, with the tiniest hint of crunch. Yes, I licked my fingers. The chives and sesame did their evanescent thing, too. Enough to make reaching for a beer feel like a reward for a job well-done. Smoky flavor. The wings were excellent. The fries (I’m sorry, the pommes frites) are served with some kind of newfangled foodie ketchup. Heinz might be better. And while I admire the effort that goes into hand-cut fries, in the end they were a little too salty, too crunchy.
There’s a mixed metaphor going when a place that serves “burnt ends” puts “pommes frites” on the menu. And there’s probably an irony in someone who writes about food in styrofoam containers complaining about service. So we’re not a perfect match, Mighty Quinn’s and me. But I’ve been there before going to write this review. And I’ll go again.