Chicken Out Rotisserie

I felt like some roasted chicken yesterday (too long away from home, I guess), so I visited a successful DC area chain, Chicken Out Rotisserie. The one good thing to say is that the chickens are, as a matter of theory, promising - no antibiotics, no hormones, and so on. In reality, the chicken was a fairly tasteless mass, rendered grainy by a stint in some kind of steam closet, only halfway saved by an attempt at an enthusiastic spice rub tempered heavily by the fear that people don't like spices. Side dishes were similarly lame. However, I did enjoy my cashier's over-the-top enthusiasm. "I hope the gentleman enjoys his soda", he said. "I wish the gentleman a fantastic evening", he added. I did. As soon as I left his restaurant.