Quick: what do blackberry lavender ice pops, Korean-Mexican tacos, escargot puffs, and Rick’s f@*#ing Russian-style beet salad have in common? Hint: they are not things I thought up while drinking. These offbeat dishes are tasty samplings from Food Trucks: Dispatches and Recipes from the Best Kitchens on Wheels. Author Heather Shouse, a Chicago food reporter and certified barbeque judge (yep, that’s a thing), ate her way from Los Angeles to New York, devouring everything from authentic Chinese noodles to bacon jam at every roach-coach she could track down. What she uncovered was nothing short of fascinating — a new, gourmet meals-on-wheels subculture that is seizing the streets of America.
The not-so-savory idea of eating something cooked inside of a vehicle has, for too long, kept the true greatness of food truck culture undercover. While most of us have had our fair share of sleepless nights after scarfing down tacos from “that dude parked down the street,” Shouse presents a vast array of mobile cuisine, arranged geographically from coast to coast and accompanied by her own charming prose. But more alluring than even the witty writing and mouthwatering photography are the stories of the people behind the menus. Top chefs turned entrepreneurs, immigrants from around the world delivering recipes passed down through generations, accidental crepe cooks; Shouse captures each of their histories with incredible finesse and genuine care, providing an inspiring link between the cook and the food cooked.Many of the dishes detailed in Food Trucks are accompanied by easy-to-execute recipes, a creative and pleasantly surprising feature of the book. While I didn’t attempt to roast snails and stick them in pastry puffs à la San Francisco’s Spencer on the Go, I did manage Beijing Hot Noodles from Philadelphia’s Yue Kee (whose owner has been compared to the Soup Nazi), and Nutella-strawberry crepes from Texas’ Fliphappy Crepes. Both were cheap and easy to make, and exceptionally fun to eat. The noodles are spicy but not mouth-numbing, filling, and perfectly complemented by their fresh cucumber garnish. The crepes taste like a hot, chocolate-dipped strawberry, and are light, crispy, and rich.
For some, it might be hard to imagine that these high caliber and culturally diverse foods are the product of something so simple and unexpected — a sous chef with a trailer and a new idea, or a recovering junkie wanting to give people a taco that was “the most delicious fucking thing they’d tasted.” From lobster puffs to spam sliders, it’s clear that the author risked her tongue (and her stomach) to share the best of America’s street cuisine. Restaurant owners, beware: it turns out that some of the finest dining and most delectable dishes in the nation can only be found in the back of a truck.
Ingredients for one of my favorite recipes follows; check out the book for the full fundown on how to whip up the secrets to the sumptuous street fare:
Beijing Hot Noodles (Serves 4. Meat can be substituted.)
2 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
2 tablespoons minced garlic
1 tablespoon minced ginger
2 green onions, minced
1 pound ground pork
¼ cup ground bean sauce
1 12 oz package firm tofu, drained and cubed
1 tablespoon chile oil
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
1 ½ teaspoons sesame oil
½ teaspoon ground white or black pepper
1 lb. lo mein noodles, cooked
½ cucumber, peeled and diced
