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CJ's: Wings of my dreams

CJ's Sports Bar offers seductive chicken wings.

By Jacob Houska

Published April 9, 2009

Covered in a glistening orange glow, lying completely naked next to a bathtub of bleu cheese, eight chicken wings are gazing tenderly into my eyes, longing to be inside me.

A concerned waitress approaches and asks to refill my Pepsi. I look at the Pepsi, and notice it is almost full. Then, slowly awakening from my trance, I realize she is merely seeing if I am breathing. I grunt in her direction and point at my Pepsi, and she slowly dribbles from her pitcher into my cup.

I glance around the room after she leaves, noticing two huge TVs on each side of me and a massive TV in front. The National Title game is on, and the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill is desecrating Michigan State University. Normally I would care, but not right not now.

Right now I am staring at the juiciest, most beautiful wings I've ever seen.

We don't bother with foreplay. Without hassling to adhere to laws of public decency, I dive in.

Predictably, our love affair quickly fizzles after we realize that our attraction is purely physical. Besides, I explained, I don't usually go for wings that are so severely overweight.

After our break-up, I was curious to meet the creators of the love of my life. I asked my waitress to summon the owners, and to my surprise, out walked a dude not much older than me, wearing a backwards hat. With eyes full of childlike wonder, I asked questions about how the magic happened.

Ty and Ashley Moore are both recent MU graduates. They bought CJ's less than a month ago. Ty took over the restaurant because of love, not money, he explained. I could taste his passion, I told him; easily the most awkward thing I've ever said.

He gulped his beer, looked at the TV and made fun of Roy Williams. We soon began talking about how a normal guy becomes a restaurant owner at a relatively young age.

"Growing up in Columbia I always wanted to have my own local sports bar," he explained. "So when I heard the old owners wanted to sell it I wrote them an email and they liked it, for whatever reason."

Wanting to buy a sports bar is one thing, but talking your wife into it is a whole other ballgame.

"I hated chicken wings until about a year ago," Ashley, who also works for the Mizzou Alumni Association, said from across the room. Ty shook his head and said that before it all started, he realized he had his work cut out. But lucky for him, his wife came to CJ's for a going away party and tried the wings no one could shut up about.

"After that, I made him take me here every week," she said. "Now we're here every day."

So they buy the place, and about three weeks later, I wander through the door and meet the chicken wing of my dreams. Now, all I have to do is find out how to make the sauce and I can live happily ever after.

Not so fast, they warned. I could only have my wings under their supervision.

"Only four people in the world know the recipe for the sauce," Ashley said, suddenly looking me square in the eye. "So if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

One way or another, I vowed, some day I would find a way to recreate these wings on my own in case I ever leave this town. There was one wing left on my plate, so I asked for a to-go box.

"You can't really do much with one wing," my waitress said.

We'll see about that.