After my rendez-vous at Mr. Spots, I was not sure I would be willing to face another wing challenge so soon. I am, after all, a vegetarian. But when my friend Landon sent me a picture of the AtoMic Wing Challenge at Jamaican Jerk Pit, I knew I had to finish what I started. My partner in spice crime, Julian, agreed and we set off to the hidden Caribbean spot on North U.  

The Lead-Up

The Wing Challenge here is no joke. If you finish the six wings in their hottest sauce without ranch or blue cheese, you will find yourself on a wall of fame and with a bumper sticker that can be used for bragging rights. When we told our server that we planned on doing the AtoMic Wing Challenge, she warned us that we better not be needing our mouths for the next twenty four hours. She continued to caution us by saying that she would never dare try the sauce: the smell alone is gut-wrenching. 

At this point, I was freaked out. The challenge was way more legit than anything we had ever done before (it was the first time we did not just come up with a challenge, truth be told), and we had someone literally telling us that we would not be seeing the light of day. To make matters worse, we were sitting right next to the wall of fame, as if it was mocking us for even trying.  

The Challenge

Meg Wynne

Steaming wings soon arrived covered in a suspicious brown sauce. For some reason, I had pictured a fluorescent orange hot sauce, but we were at a Jamaican spot. I had also never seen wings of this shape before; they had a joint almost like a handle. Allegedly, these are the real deal chicken wings, not just drumsticks.  

The wings were a little too hot temperature-wise at first so Julian dipped them in the 70 cent blue cheese just to be told that we actually could not use any sauces. Alas, we were high and dry. Once we stared to eat, I thought the sauce was magnificent. It was super spicy but still had a lot of jerk flavor. The experience was by no means painful.  Our lack of suffering actually makes this a lot harder to write.  

The Aftermath

Meg Wynne

I suppose it was not all fun and games; we both finished our waters pretty quickly and had a nice sheen of sweat, but neither of us were remotely close to tears. The meat itself was also way better than any wings we had tried. Julian is a lot better at dusting the meat than I am, but this time I was not completely disgusted. 

By the end of things, I was grabbing pita to dip in the excess sauce on the plate because it was really that good. Julian, unfortunately, did not feel the same about the sauce and made it clear that he would not order these for an actual meal. 


Meg Wynne

We both finished without touching the dipping sauces and were left to wait for another long period of time to officially claim our glory with the restaurant. Eventually, we had the honor of our picture being awkwardly taken on an employee's iPhone because the Polaroid they usually use was broken, and we were given massive bumper stickers to prove that we succeeded in subjecting ourselves to pain. However, the stickers are so massive that I don't think either of us have found a place to put them.  

All in all, we both agreed that these wings knocked Mr. Spots out of the water.  If you are looking for a good hot wing or just want something to do on a Saturday, look no further than the AtoMic Wings at Jamaican Jerk Pit. And yes, I may be writing this in part to immortalize our achievement because I have a feeling we will not ever make it to the wall of fame.