The speedy rise of a food trend
It all began in 2009 when one Los Angeles man decided that Korean tacos were a good idea. His name is Roy Choi – he slings his cap backwards, his arms are emblazoned with tattoos, he swears like a drunken sailor and his public persona is an oddly celebrated blend of self-deprecation, Tupac-quotes and jailhouse-style badassery. He seems like the exact opposite of the kind of person you’d expect to spearhead a food trend. But Roy single-handedly kick-started LA’s all-encompassing food scene on four wheels – with all the style of an outcast Asian kid trying to fit in.
Previously, mobile food in America consisted of ice cream vendors, hot dog carts and what’s commonly known as the ‘roach coach’, unstylish mobile food operations that cater to blue-collar workers. Then Roy arrived with his food truck, Kogi BBQ, and suddenly the Twitter community had never been so inclined to hunt for a food opening – it was quite literally a chase for Roy’s tacos, which were oftentimes elusive because of his inconsistent whereabouts. Each day, his escalating fan base would attempt to track him down, and locating him was a triumph worth bragging about on social media. The trend caught on, and soon there were a lot more trucks trundling up and down the streets. They championed the lifestyle of the rebel foodie kid – the kid who never went to culinary school and uses the word ‘sick’ to mean ‘delicious’. Then the gourmet trucks rolled in – the healthy salads, the 12-hour pulled pork sandwiches, the cold-pressed juices, the wood-fired pizzas, the elegant doughnuts. Cities like San Francisco, Vancouver and Sydney perked up and followed suit. Social media accounts popped up, lines formed, trucks moved from one middle-class precinct to another, experienced chefs turned to trucks as a post-recession comfort, and Jon Favreau made a film (‘Chef’) about a man and his truck that raked in over USD10 million at the box office. Half a decade since Roy started selling his tacos on the road, buying a semi-fancy takeout lunch from a smiling food truck owner is now a quintessential LA experience.
So the next time you eat a ketchup-drenched chicken chop by the roadside, take a minute to give thanks to Roy Choi and his weird, wonderful mind.
Previously, mobile food in America consisted of ice cream vendors, hot dog carts and what’s commonly known as the ‘roach coach’, unstylish mobile food operations that cater to blue-collar workers. Then Roy arrived with his food truck, Kogi BBQ, and suddenly the Twitter community had never been so inclined to hunt for a food opening – it was quite literally a chase for Roy’s tacos, which were oftentimes elusive because of his inconsistent whereabouts. Each day, his escalating fan base would attempt to track him down, and locating him was a triumph worth bragging about on social media. The trend caught on, and soon there were a lot more trucks trundling up and down the streets. They championed the lifestyle of the rebel foodie kid – the kid who never went to culinary school and uses the word ‘sick’ to mean ‘delicious’. Then the gourmet trucks rolled in – the healthy salads, the 12-hour pulled pork sandwiches, the cold-pressed juices, the wood-fired pizzas, the elegant doughnuts. Cities like San Francisco, Vancouver and Sydney perked up and followed suit. Social media accounts popped up, lines formed, trucks moved from one middle-class precinct to another, experienced chefs turned to trucks as a post-recession comfort, and Jon Favreau made a film (‘Chef’) about a man and his truck that raked in over USD10 million at the box office. Half a decade since Roy started selling his tacos on the road, buying a semi-fancy takeout lunch from a smiling food truck owner is now a quintessential LA experience.
So the next time you eat a ketchup-drenched chicken chop by the roadside, take a minute to give thanks to Roy Choi and his weird, wonderful mind.
