Where's my Chicken and Rice?

Late at night in NYC when the city is sound asleep (yes, not only is New York not The City that Never Sleeps, but it snores as well) inside your tummy something rumbles. And you know, if you’re middle eastern, south asian or a taxi driver there is only one place that you can go. It’s Chicken and Rice time.

Chicken and rice for those of you not in the ‘know’ is a set of stalls that serves grilled chicken and middle eastern rice with ‘sauce’. Watch out for the sauce. It’ll burn your intestines from the inside out. Do ask for it. Otherwise you can taste the chicken. You don’t want to do that.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that that it’s not good. It’s great in fact. It’s just that it does… umm… damage. But you’ll never stop craving it. Stall food that’s available late into the night. It’s a place where everyone congregates, where you meet friends you haven’t seen in a couple of months. It’s better than good, it’s the only place that’s open.

Savannah had Parkers, Lahore had Bahaiya ke Kababs, I’m still looking for what Berkeley has. During the day the food here is great. There’s a decent shawerma place a block from my house. An amazing one four blocks away. There’s this place called Cheeseboard that is phenomenal. But late at night, rumbling tum and all I can think of is where’s my chicken and rice?