Rotisserie chicken turns me into a wild, disgusting animal.
Now, I am not the fanciest person you know when it comes to eating. I like a dinner party as much as the next person, and I’m the one to ask about the newest/best/tastiest restaurant (go ahead, ask me) because I’m pretty obsessed with eating all the things. But at home, I’m happy to eat food out of the pan I made it in, standing over the island in my kitchen rather than sitting down with proper utensils and a napkin. Don’t get me wrong, I have manners and I know how to use them, I just feel like they’re wasted when I’m on my own. Certain foods really bring out the animal in me, and one of them is rotisserie chicken. You know, those pre-made ones you can buy at the grocery store – those delicious, fall off the bone, of dubious origin chickens that are about $8.99 each and absolutely not as healthy as you like to think they are? For whatever reason, when I buy one of those, it’s like I turn into a ravenous animal with no regard for civility. I tear into that bird with my hands, my teeth, ripping gristle and chewing fat. I’m not a squeamish person about the realities of eating meat, and in fact, I prefer the gnarly bits (I’m the one that will eat the tongue, eyes, that thing that looks like a gizzard but is it really oops I already ate it, oh well).
I just get a sense of satisfaction by ripping the poor bird’s leg off and biting into it, getting my hands greasy; the immediate satisfaction that just doesn’t translate when the chicken is delivered to your mouth at the end of a fork. And I think that’s ok – it’s good for us to, sometimes, indulge our more animalistic nature in a world that is constantly suppressing it. See how good I am at justifying my hideous behaviour? Well, I know I’m not the only one. What’s the meal that encourages you to, for a moment, let go of your humanity and indulge your no-napkins-required animalistic nature? Leave it in the comments!