From Sirens to Savages: Rat Girl Summer Unleashes the Power of Rotisserie Chicken

In our modern, somewhat post-apocalyptic world filled with extravagant six-euro chicken fillet rolls, one humble delight remains steadfast. An unsung hero of the realm: the rotisserie chicken. This succulent morsel has become emblematic of Rat Girl Summer.

People have been touting 2023 as Rat Girl Summer since early June when TikTok creator Lola Kolade, aka @lolaokola coined the term and went viral. Basically, Rat Girl Summer is about scurrying around and having endless craic. It’s characterised by a chaotic, often manic energy.

All culinary notions of even the most highfalutin dissolve at the rotisserie chicken counter. The rotisserie chicken is the great equaliser of our times. All are drawn to its allure. It’s like a siren. Once you hear the call, you are done for. In the best possible way. 

Eating a rotisserie chicken with your bare hands over the sink is the 2023 equivalent of eating a tin of beans straight from the can. Utilitarian but perversely enjoyable. The tantalising aroma of piping hot poultry beckons to us all. It stirs something deep within, awakening primal instincts. It’s like we have the social permission to go feral in the presence of a rotisserie chicken. Rotisserie chicken awakens our inner rat girl.

That they still come in at less than a tenner would almost be enough to make you believe that there is a sky Daddy. The beauty of the rotisserie chicken lies not only in its affordability and accessibility but also in its simplicity. No matter where you get it from, it likely tastes better than any chicken you can roast yourself. Like the roast dinners of many an Irish childhood embodying comfort and nourishment in a handy bag that werks as fashionable. It’s a Rat Girl Summer icon. Rat girls displaying that full rotisserie chicken with the pride usually reserved for a Chanel tote are to be seen all over the internet.

The roast chicken offers solace to the weary and sustenance to the hungry. With each bite, the flesh yields to your desire nourishing you. It is a transcendent experience that the body of Christ can’t compete with. 

Like the home-cooked chicken, you can use a rotisserie chicken in a million ways. In a salad, in quick sambo, as a main event. But unlike the chicken you cook at home, the rotisserie chicken can be eaten with your bare hands. Straight from the bag. Juices running down your face. Like a savage. A Rat Girl living her best summer. A human in touch with her base-level rodent instincts. Find yourself a cosy spot—a park bench, a dimly lit kitchen, over the sink, in the car, or even in bed with a massive hangover. It’s a ritual, a communion with food and life itself.

Usually, this sort of convenience comes at a much higher price. We all pay through the nose for coffee on the go. We’ve all put up with shite airport food. But somehow, the rotisserie chicken has yet to suffer the same Cost of Living increases. Or at least not at the same rate. I only have anecdotal evidence for the Irish end, but I can tell you from personal experience in my local Tesco they have been pretty steadfast at €7.50 for a couple of years. 

Raise our glasses and toast to the whole rotisserie chicken—the unsung true joy of Rat Girl Summer. What could be simpler, yet more profoundly satisfying, than the joy of a perfectly roasted rotisserie chicken with your bare hands?

Elsewhere on CHAR: Brunch is Dead – Long Live The Sunday Roast