Why I go to Platters (and why you should go too)

The Europeans enjoy long multi-coursed meals served on fancy plates. But at Seton Hall, there’s a group of us that have our own idea of a three-hour meal, and it’s not European.

One course, one platter- that’s all you need when you visit the Halal street stand on 53rd and 6th in New York City.

Known to regulars as “Platters”, Halal Chicken and Rice is one of those places that make college kids speak poetry. No joke. Twenty-one year old, beer-guzzling men speak of Platters like King Solomon spoke of his beloved or Romeo of his fair Juliette.

To anyone that’s ever ventured there, that’s no surprise. The food is enough to make even the most snobbish epicurean weak in the knees: Perfectly seasoned lamb (or chicken) tossed on a bed of yellow rice and warm pita, topped with a generous serving of “white sauce”, and if you have good taste and a strong stomach- the legendary, hot sauce. And you can’t beat the price: $6 for a platter, and $4 a gyro.

But as any Platters regular will tell you: It’s not just about the food, Platters is an experience. As a Seton Hall student, visiting the legendary street stand meant scrounging for cash (no credit cards accepted), finding drivers (who can maneuver NYC taxi cabs), gathering a group (at least 5-strong), and setting aside at minimum, 3 hours to drive there, eat, and return.

Most importantly, Platters is never planned. One person says, “Hey want to go to Platters?”- usually around midnight, and usually the night before an early-morning class. Hesitation and rational debate ensues, but eventually, logic surrenders to passion, ego bows to id, and before you know it, you find yourself in a car with too many people, hungry and dancing to “You know you want me” as it blasts on the radio.

I always enjoyed Platters myself, but as a type-A nerd, involved in too many activities and enrolled in too many classes my sophomore year, Platters was also a cause of heart-palpitating anxiety- symptoms of shirking assignments, putting off never-ending emails, and going to class too tired the next day- if I woke up. But thankfully, I always had friends that dragged me on monthly, sometimes weekly pilgrimages, despite my protests and pouting.

Now as a slightly-less-than-type-A graduate, I realize that those irrational excursions were in a way, just as important as the meetings and the lectures which consumed so much of my time in college. The people that joined me for Platters runs, I now consider some of my best friends, and even though they will be dispersed around the country and around the world next year, we’ll always share the memories of those ridiculous nights of laughter, traffic, and of course, savory baby sheep.

I’m still a nerd, I still get work done on time, but because of those friends, I live my life by a slightly different clock. Take this piece of prose for example. In less than 6 days, I will be taking the GRE, an exam which will determine which offices I sit in for the next fifty years of my life. If my Asian dad saw me writing a street-food review for my not-for-profit blog at this moment, he would freak, FREAK. And so would nineteen-year old Grace.

But for now, I am just happy. I’m happy because I am doing something I love (writing), writing about the people I love (you know who you are), and reminiscing over some of the best nights we ever shared. And although there probably won’t be another Platters reunion until, oh, next month, at this moment, those memories are enough.