Baked Honey Chicken Mustard Wings

If you have about 1 hour and 5 minutes to spend in the kitchen, Baked Honey Chicken Mustard Wings might be an outstanding gluten free and dairy free recipe to try. For $1.95 per serving, you get a main course that serves 4. One portion of this dish contains approximately 35g of protein, 38g of fat, and a total of 560 calories. It is brought to you by Recipe Girl. A mixture of kosher salt, chicken wings, honey, and a handful of other ingredients are all it takes to make this recipe so delicious. A couple people made this recipe, and 61 would say it hit the spot. Overall, this recipe earns a solid spoonacular score of 56%. Similar recipes include Tangy Honey Mustard Baked Chicken Wings, Honey Mustard Chicken Wings, and Honey Mustard Chicken Wings.

Servings: 4

Preparation duration: 5 minutes

Cooking duration: 60 minutes

 

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon black pepper

3 pounds chicken wings

Fresh chives, garnish

1/4 cup honey

2 tablespoons hot sauce

1 teaspoon kosher salt

2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as canola)

1/2 cup whole grain mustard

Equipment:

baking sheet

bowl

oven

Cooking instruction summary:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. In a large bowl, toss the wings with the oil, salt, and pepper, and spread them out on a baking sheet. Bake the wings for 35 minutes. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl ~ stir together the honey, mustard, and hot sauce. When the wings come out of the oven, transfer them to a bowl and drizzle with the sauce. Toss to coat. Remove the wings, but leave any extra sauce in the bowl. Return the wings to the baking sheet and bake for another 10 to 15 minutes until they are nicely caramelized. When wings come out of the oven, toss them in the bowl for a second time and coat with any leftover sauce. Serve wings while hot with a sprinkle of fresh chives.

 

Step by step:


1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. In a large bowl, toss the wings with the oil, salt, and pepper, and spread them out on a baking sheet.

2. Bake the wings for 35 minutes. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl ~ stir together the honey, mustard, and hot sauce. When the wings come out of the oven, transfer them to a bowl and drizzle with the sauce. Toss to coat.

3. Remove the wings, but leave any extra sauce in the bowl. Return the wings to the baking sheet and bake for another 10 to 15 minutes until they are nicely caramelized. When wings come out of the oven, toss them in the bowl for a second time and coat with any leftover sauce.

4. Serve wings while hot with a sprinkle of fresh chives.


Nutrition Information:

 

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Food Trivia

Cooking food is one of the great revolutionary innovations of history because it not only transformed the way we prepare food, but because it also became a center of cultural communion and organized society.

Food Joke

I tried not to be biased in hiring a handicapped person, but his placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. I had never had a mentally-handicapped employee, and I wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy, and had the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ;" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks. I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto a cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met. Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie had missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down Syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look. He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay." "I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?" Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said, "but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getti.

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