I'm the opposite. Ice cold and blindingly hot.
I like to make them compliment one another. Like some three mile island wings and a pitcher of beer with ice slush floating around in it.
Ya. They make 'em pret-ty hot 'round here.
I insist this is the bar-food capital of the world, but I'm probably just adjusted to it. Got wings in Jersey once, almost spat 'em out on the floor in disgust. They were breaded! With... with breading! I recoiled in horror. I had to go lie down. I drove home, stopped at the first church I saw and swished my mouth out with holy water.