Food Truck

A new breed of food truck is giving the ubiquitous cheesesteak a run for its money as the city's preferred curbside delight. The inaugural Philadelphia Vendy Awards, a culinary showdown among eight of the city's elite mobile food vendors Saturday in Northern Liberties, sought to identify and reward the leaders of that breed. And nary a steak was in sight. "It's been a long hard day, but it's been a beautiful day," Thomas Bacon, also known as Gigi, of Gigi & Big R Caribbean/American Soul Food, the victor of the event, said as he clutched a gleaming trophy.

A new breed of food truck is giving the ubiquitous cheesesteak a run for its money as the city's preferred curbside delight. The inaugural Philadelphia Vendy awards, a culinary showdown among eight of the city's elite mobile food vendors held Saturday in Northern Liberties, sought to identify and reward the leaders of that breed. And nary a steak was in sight. "It's been a long hard day, but it's been a beautiful day," Thomas Bacon, also known as Gigi, of Gigi and Big R Caribbean/American Soul Food, the crowned victor of the event, said as he clutched a gleaming trophy cup. "The Vendy Cup is a trophy that I can drink cool beer out of - after standing over a deep fryer, frying chicken, cooking cabbage and greens, and serving the customers.

USED TO BE, eating off a food truck meant grabbing a kielbasa or some General Tso's - or, if you were feeling reckless, a gyro. These days, thanks to the recession and the culinary world's teenagerlike eagerness to follow trends, Philly has a growing fleet of gourmet trucks that serve up delicacies like pork bulgagi and buttercream cupcakes. This weekend, old-school carts meet their tweeting newbie counterparts in our city's first-ever Vendy (as in "vendor") Awards, a competitive celebration of sidewalk grub.

Mister Softee doesn't mind competition, but he won't tolerate impostors, especially this weekend - the "Christmas of the ice cream season," said co-owner James Conway. This summer, the mobile ice cream vendor, based in Runnemede, has escalated its longstanding battle against those who illegally use Mister Softee's name, smiling cone-head logo, and famous jingle. The U.S. Marshal's Office last month confiscated two ice cream trucks from owners who had been ordered by a federal court judge to stop operating as lookalikes and to reimburse Mister Softee $20,000 in legal fees.

Summer is the perfect time for sitting under the cool shade of a pink umbrella, sipping lemonade, and listening to the pleasing lull of - no, not the waves on the beach, but the sizzle and clang of stir-fry. At the many ethnic food trucks frequented by students, professors, and workers in University City for 20 years, summer means shorter lines and quick service for the cheap and tasty fare that normally requires a wait of 20 minutes or more. While some Penn campus food trucks farther from the hospital work fewer hours or even close during the summer, there are still plenty scattered around serving menus ranging from vegetarian to Vietnamese.

Crisco and Girl Scout cookies are now free of artery-clogging trans fatty acids. But what about our beloved cheesesteaks? After a public hearing yesterday, City Council's Committee on Public Health and Human Services took the first step toward barring restaurants, food trucks and takeout eateries from using products that contain trans fats. The bill, proposed by Councilman Juan Ramos, will move to the full Council on Feb. 1, when it will face the first of two votes. The legislation would require local eateries to rid their kitchens and pantries of trans fat by Sept.

My friend, Al Fresco, is befuddled these days about what passes for a sidewalk cafe. You know Al - loves to eat outdoors in the fresh air, and this is the season for it. Breakfast, lunch, dinner or cocktails - he's out there. But lately, Al has noticed a proliferation of umbrella tables in unlikely locales - places where you'd be more likely to catch a bus than linger over a lemonade. In the parking lot of a suburban strip mall, for example, a street corner in North Philadelphia, or along a South Jersey highway with semis buzzing by. Not cute, not quaint.

Mike Ioannou's sudden death a few weeks ago punched a sizable hole in the community fabric of Temple University. Ioannou wasn't a dean, or an esteemed professor, or a big donor, or a celebrated alumni. Every morning at 4:30, when students were sleeping off exam angst or a beer buzz, Ioannou and his wife, Hope, rolled their food truck up to the curb on Broad Street, outside Temple's law school. There, they began to dispense coffee, egg sandwiches, Hope's delectable soups, and, most important, a genuine curiosity about the lives of those who lined up on the sidewalk.

Curtis Womack was abruptly awakened early yesterday when a tractor-trailer truck carrying bananas and pineapples crashed through his apartment on Route 309 in Bucks County. Womack, 54, was sleeping about 5:30 a.m. when the Del Monte Foods truck, driven by Scott Berlin, 41, of Woolwich Township, N.J., drifted from the right lane near Clay Avenue and slammed through his bedroom wall. The truck rammed a telephone pole and mailboxes, crossed a ravine, and sheared propane gas lines into the building before crashing, officials said.

Bright red stockings, velvet bows and gold garland adorn the banister in Rodney and April Brown's Mount Airy home on this April morning. Across the living room, Christmas cards are taped to the wall. To top off the holiday scene, a Christmas tree sits several feet from the front door. It is two weeks after Easter, and the Browns' decor suggests St. Nick himself will be dropping by at any time. What kind of job keeps you so busy that you don't get around to taking down your Christmas decorations nearly a month into spring?