who knows chicken wings? i have a love affair with chicken wings by any name. but often you'll order chicken wings with great expectations only to find that you've been assaulted with foul fowl. has anyone tried the wings from the chicken purveyor that's nestled behind the amish diner at the reading terminal? an aside.... is it true that the terminal is able to spin the head of a chowhound and induce a spell of ectasy so intense that a chowies knees turn to the consistency of a slightly gritty and smooth flan? i say hell yes! today i'll journey to the chicken shack in the corner with high hopes.... will this be a pilgrimage to mecca?