By Katia Protsenko
_Being in college and cooking don’t exactly mix._
In this weekly column, I hope to teach you a little something about the world of food. Having food — and cooking food — is a useful skill. We college students should have our cake, and know how to bake it too.
When my Russian grandfather visited my family in San Jose, the newly remodeled airport did not impress him. He was not impressed by my aunt’s new car, either. The one thing that showed him America was a land of progress was the rotisserie chicken, available at Costco for $4.99.
With its crackling golden skin and seasoned juice dripping down, the spinning rotisserie chicken is a salivary sight.
American residents and tourists alike can marvel at the value of the rotisserie chicken. It appeals to the consumer because of its price and its taste — impeccably seasoned and never dry or burnt.
This is my ode to the rotisserie chicken.
Walk to the back of Costco, and there they are. Rotating on spits or already in their chicken-shaped containers. On the drive home, your car is filled with its savory smell. By the time you arrive home and unpack the groceries, you can hardly wait to dig in.
When I come home with one of these chickens, I don’t even need to have a side dish. Rotisserie chicken
