Every Wednesday of my Mayberry-esque childhood, a GMC Step-Van would pull into the driveway, and Mr Foehrkolb would holler out his nickname and his business in just two words:
And the neighborhood ladies would go get fresh live crabs, soft crabs, rockfish, shad and shad roe and whatever else he had brought up from the shore.
Now these food trucks are all over downtown Baltimore and in the suburbs as well, but I still feel a little odd eating chow handed down to me from inside a truck. You can't call me a food snob, as much as I love diner food and the buffets. Here's why I think the food trucks are a trifle odd:
Click right here and read details about a hamburger for sale out of a food truck in New York City. We think of New Yorkers as being shrewd with their money and their safety; after all, living in a town where one needs to dodge bullets and rats just to get from the subway to a fire-free zone teaches one to be wary.
And to spend $666 on lunch, enough to feed dozens of others, is conspicuous consumption of the highest order, to my burger-lovin' eyes. If you have that much to spend on lunch, call me and you can come over any day! Be here 12:30 the latest; that's when my story comes on.