(Apologies for not having pictures. Explanation contained herein.)
I could curl up in a ball and sleep in their original wing sauce like Rip Van Winkle chugging faerie grog. This is stuff fantasies are made of: the perfect amount of cook, crunch, crisp, flavor, I will never order anything else from this place. Period. Wings, and a pile of them, and don’t try to take any. We Bite Fingers.
To take a step back, this Culpeppers is one of five in St. Louis County. A long time ago, I sampled Central West End. A shorter time ago, I sampled Creve Coeur. Kirkwood is closest to the home, and it is right up the street of the closest Wal-Mart (not proud of shopping there, but they have the cheapest, and quickest pharmacy around).
I’ll be honest and say Kirkwood isn’t the best of the five, either. Its serving environment is a little sluggish, the wings aren’t as perfectly uniform as Creve Coeur: drumettes may be squishy while wingers are cooked perfectly, or vice versa. The dining environment is a step closer to café and a step farther from warm sit-down restaurant. Perhaps too many windows, prying eyes staring in from the drycleaner next door, or maybe even the heavy traffic on Kirkwood takes away from the feel: I’m unsure. I blame the building where they set up shop. But I’m not complaining: wing haze tends to block out all the non-wing distractions anyway.
What’s also great about this place is the salad selection. My fiancée, vegetarian as she is, prefers a strong selection of vegetarian (or to-be-made vegetarian), and their salads hit the spot. Happy fiancée means happy meal, and I’m lovin’ it.
With a strong menu selection for the non-wing obsessives including flavors you’d see at home in an O’Charley’s, Chilis, or Applebees, it’s great for the whole family. Steak, pizza, they make everything well, with a flair for the St. Louis flavor.
To be honest I black out after the first wing touches my tongue, so I’m not entirely sure what people are saying about the rest of the food. I dimly remember the car ride home—mostly because the wing flavor began to dissipate.
Don’t Wing and drive, people. It’s as bad as texting.
Chris Eats St. Louis 