I bought a food truck. It took me a while to write about it.
I read from a number of food truck owners the things they wished they had known…and a theme emerged: get ready to do a lot of things that have nothing to do with cooking.
I knew this would be true, I didn’t realize it would happen so quickly. After the five hour drive back to Seattle in my new (used) truck, I started to feel more comfortable behind the wheel of a 27-foot-long beast that makes wide turns, accelerates like a disinterested sloth, and has a backup camera that only shows the world in charcoal and black.

Excuse my awesome photoshopping, here’s the truck…new paint job to come. And no, I won’t acutally have Hambulance written on the hood, last thing I need is for sick pigs calling me for help.
As soon as I got home, I realized it was too tall to fit in the driveway under the tree branches. Without a ladder at my disposal, I stood atop my Honda Element in the rain on a dark Seattle night cutting branches back…only to find out that once I was done, the angle was too steep and I couldn’t pull it in anyway.
So I bought and shoveled a few thousand pounds of gravel to level things out, and now my truck is dead. The battery wiring is…weird…the back of the truck is filthy. I spent two hours one day on a single corner of the thing…and it still looks dirty there. I’m seriously considering putting sponges on a belt sander and seeing if I can invent the future of cleaning so I can still get things going before my 75th birthday. Or maybe I can get one of those giant car wash brushes on some kind of mobile device and just bring it right down the middle. We’ll see.
What an adventure! Wishing you luck. I’ll totally buy swine when you head to SD.