In certain fancy restaurants, you'll see "gastrique" or "agrodolce" on the menu, which are just other ways to say "sweet and sour." All are a viscous sauce made with a sugar (sucrose most of the time, but you can also use honey, agave, or anything else sweet) that can carry an acid, like a vinegar. As you reduce the sugar, you concentrate its sweetness until it is a perfect balance to the abrasiveness of vinegar. They bring out the best in each other. However you come at it, sweet and sour is most delicious when you get that first bite of crispiness followed by a hit of tangy, mouthwatering sweetness. To make that crispiness last, you need a batter built from three starches. Short-grain glutinous rice flour (such as mochiko) makes the batter stick, while water-milled, long- grain glutinous rice flour holds the crunch. Cornstarch walls in the juices from the chicken as it cooks. For the glaze, instead of straight sugar, this recipe calls for orange juice cooked down for a couple hours with some honey, brown rice syrup, and Shaoxing. There's a little tingle and kick, too, from garlic, ginger, and chile. I kept these as wings, not nuggets, for that extra flavor, as the Chinese say, that comes from eating the meat closest to the bone, right off the bone. The wings will be double-fried, first in a dry dredge and then a wet batter, so plan to dredge and fry in batches.