It’s tough to believe that food truck trend goes back more than six years. It feels like just yesterday people started looking to Twitter to figure out where and when their next Instagram lunch pic was going to come from.
One of the early trucks to get moving locally was Devilicious, serving “Food so good it’s bad” since late 2010. It even starred on a TV show. I’ve spotted Devilicious at food truck events and outside bars over the years, but I never bit until recently. Like most food trucks in these parts, Devilicious frequents craft breweries, and that’s where I finally made my move, in between beer tastings.
Like most of its truck-kitchen brethren, Devilicious doesn’t specialize in light fare. One of its sandwiches lists bacon as a topping four times. Others take the terms pork belly, buffalo chicken, or short rib and add the word “melt.” And that’s after you decline the cheese steak, cheeseburger, and lobster roll.
But heavy, meaty, cheesy sandwiches are a natural fit with beer, so the pairing this day was ideal. I opted for the duck confit grilled cheese, practically the diet option in this lineup. The truck was experiencing a rush, so it took some time for the hardworking team inside to get my order out, meaning I was another beer deeper before the sandwich was ready.
Both gruyere and mozzarella cheeses make this sandwich a gooey beast, and this is one of those pulled-duck situations where you can close your eyes and imagine it’s pork. The crisp, buttery sourdough and caramelized red onions played nice textural accompaniment, though it’s a simple sandwich before they add a honey port reduction. It’s not anything fine — if I got it from a table service restaurant I’d be disappointed, but if I ordered it in a pub I would laud it.
Since I got it off a truck for ten bucks with plenty of beer to wash it down, I call it good enough to revisit. The guy standing next to me didn’t value his sliced ribeye cheesesteak — but he turned out to be a Philly native, so his was an exercise in futility. The woman in line behind me wound up raving about her red-wine-braised short-rib melt made with cheese curds and garlic aioli.
I would not recommend Devilicious before exercise — even the night before — but I can see why it’s made the most of food-truck friendly times. Food truck fans don’t think with their stomach, they think with their mouth. And maybe their…what is it these days, Snapchat?
It’s tough to believe that food truck trend goes back more than six years. It feels like just yesterday people started looking to Twitter to figure out where and when their next Instagram lunch pic was going to come from.
One of the early trucks to get moving locally was Devilicious, serving “Food so good it’s bad” since late 2010. It even starred on a TV show. I’ve spotted Devilicious at food truck events and outside bars over the years, but I never bit until recently. Like most food trucks in these parts, Devilicious frequents craft breweries, and that’s where I finally made my move, in between beer tastings.
Like most of its truck-kitchen brethren, Devilicious doesn’t specialize in light fare. One of its sandwiches lists bacon as a topping four times. Others take the terms pork belly, buffalo chicken, or short rib and add the word “melt.” And that’s after you decline the cheese steak, cheeseburger, and lobster roll.
But heavy, meaty, cheesy sandwiches are a natural fit with beer, so the pairing this day was ideal. I opted for the duck confit grilled cheese, practically the diet option in this lineup. The truck was experiencing a rush, so it took some time for the hardworking team inside to get my order out, meaning I was another beer deeper before the sandwich was ready.
Both gruyere and mozzarella cheeses make this sandwich a gooey beast, and this is one of those pulled-duck situations where you can close your eyes and imagine it’s pork. The crisp, buttery sourdough and caramelized red onions played nice textural accompaniment, though it’s a simple sandwich before they add a honey port reduction. It’s not anything fine — if I got it from a table service restaurant I’d be disappointed, but if I ordered it in a pub I would laud it.
Since I got it off a truck for ten bucks with plenty of beer to wash it down, I call it good enough to revisit. The guy standing next to me didn’t value his sliced ribeye cheesesteak — but he turned out to be a Philly native, so his was an exercise in futility. The woman in line behind me wound up raving about her red-wine-braised short-rib melt made with cheese curds and garlic aioli.
I would not recommend Devilicious before exercise — even the night before — but I can see why it’s made the most of food-truck friendly times. Food truck fans don’t think with their stomach, they think with their mouth. And maybe their…what is it these days, Snapchat?
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