Paying Homage to the Rotisserie Chicken

Yesterday, after a long class and long commute back home on the bus because of another metro incident, I was starving and I knew I did not have a lot of food at home. As I contemplated my options, I resisted the urge to get fast food at the fried chicken wings on sale at Giant- knowing that I would regret it later.

What could I eat now? What would satisfy me before another big night of studying? Then I saw it, the rotisserie chicken. (fortunately, Giant sells half rotisserie chickens for people like me)

It may seem silly to glorify a little chicken and write a whole blog post about it, but for me, it is one of my ultimate comfort foods. It was probably because growing up, my mom or dad cooked almost every meal. We hardly ever did pizza or takeout, except when we had a babysitter, but we would have the rotisserie chicken if someone was not going to cook. Oftentimes my mom would pick one up at Costco while she was waiting for us to finish piano lessors or my dad would get one on his way home from work.

In fact, I distinctly remember it being our first meal after moving from Minnesota to California. We were in our little condo on our first night in our new states, and we went to the grocery store and got a rotisserie chicken, baguette, and salad. And that's the exact meal that I got at the grocery store last night.

Unlike a lot of the Vietnamese food my mom would cook, this was the meal that I partook in as well. I was the pickiest eater when I was younger. But I would always be so happy when someone carved off that top piece of chicken breast just for me. I would eat all the chicken first and save the crispy skin for last. I still eat it the same way.

[picture taken at the Fisherman's Warf farmer's market last year]