Hungry patrons line up at the Cinnamon Snail, a food truck specializing in organic vegan food. The familyrun operation is part of an evolving industry that is dishing out delicacies at festivals, farm markets and on the side of the street. JESSICA DAMICO/STAFF Once merely an oasis for the road-weary traveler looking to scarf down a hot dog or two, food trucks have become a destination in themselves, rolling their way into the hearts — and stomachs — of an often fiercely loyal clientele.
“The allure is, it’s real food coming out of these trucks at a good price point,” said Josh Sacks, owner of Oink & Moo BBQ, which has a truck in New Jersey and another in Philadelphia.
Whether parked at festivals, farm markets or on the street, the trucks’ attraction cannot be denied as owners dish out serving after serving of gourmet grub.
A Sunday morning visit to the Red Bank Farmers Market reveals a host of healthful produce and goodies, but it doesn’t take long to figure out why much of the crowd is there — they’ve come for the Cinnamon Snail.
Elizabeth Cowan of Avon-by-the-Sea serves a pork sandwich at the Oink & Moo BBQ food truck, parked at the PNC Bank Arts Center, Holmdel. PHOTOS BY STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER ERIC SUCAR The purveyors of “vegan organic food to inspire peace and bliss” must be hitting the mark if their line is any indication. It winds about 50 deep at 9:30 a.m., with vegetarians and carnivores alike.
Chef Adam Sobel does his culinary magic in the background while daughter Idil, 12, greets customers with infectious enthusiasm.
No one seems to mind waiting a bit for the chipotle seitan burritos, blue corn pancakes or other animal-free delicacies. Besides, if famished, one could snatch up one of their namesake cinnamon rolls or a crème brulee doughnut to fill the void.
Carlos Serrano has seen great success since launching the Empanada Guy in 2012. He now has franchised trucks in Old Bridge, Hoboken and Port Reading, and a stationary location in Freehold. Beth Wyman, an Ocean Township resident, has been coming back for two years, even donating to a recent Kickstarter campaign that raised more than $85,000 for the Cinnamon Snail’s second truck. “I love the food,” Wyman said. “I think they come up with really unique and creative ways to use vegetarian ingredients, which a lot of restaurants don’t manage to do.”
Sobel, a longtime vegetarian chef, is passionate about the “extrayummy, elegant vegetarian food” that he also serves in Manhattan during the week.
“I think I created the menu to be especially enticing for people who don’t necessarily know about vegetarian food,” he said.
The approach worked, with the Cinnamon Snail receiving accolades from the New York Post, New York magazine and the Huffington Post, among others. Yelp named the vegan truck the No. 1 place to eat in New York City and the No. 4 place to eat in the United States for 2014.
“It’s really exciting,” Sobel said.
Carlos Serrano, also known as the Empanada Guy, knows the feeling.
“It’s phenomenal; it’s just crazy,” he said of the business that has exploded since its inception as a food truck in 2012.
The concept began about a decade earlier, when a colleague raved about the leftover empanadas Serrano brought to work one day. What began as a side project — cooking in his garage and selling to delis and at festivals to supplement a modest salary from working with adults with special needs — became a true sensation.
“It’s a multimillion-dollar business,” he said of what now consists of three franchised trucks in Old Bridge, Hoboken and the Port Reading section of Woodbridge. “We’re growing every month, at about 10 percent per month.”
Serrano has enjoyed $5,000 to $10,000 days at festivals, including the recent Food Trucks and Fire Pits event at Laurita Winery in New Egypt, where Empanada Guy served 15,000 people.
“I was blessed with the fact that now there are festivals in every town, and they want me,” he said, adding that those die down in the winter. “That’s why Port Reading is so powerful and so important to me; we’re out there in the winter, rocking.”
The success has encompassed winning a frozen-product development deal on the Lifetime network’s “Supermarket Superstar” and appearing on Fox. The Empanada Guy has also created his own YouTube show, “Food Truck Heroes.”
It’s all a far cry from days when he was woefully behind on bills and even slept in his car a couple of times because he lacked the gas money to go home.
“What I did was nothing special. The only thing I did was, I stuck to it,” Serrano insists, adding that his philosophy was, “If I fail, I fail. But I’m going down in flames if I have to.”
The Empanada Guy has done anything but, though this is not to say that the road to success in a food truck is an easy one.
“You better be ready to work,” he said.
Sacks, who opened Oink & Moo BBQ two years ago, agreed, saying 70-hour work weeks are not uncommon.
“It’s crazy long hours,” said the meat maestro, who lives with his wife and two children in Somerset. “It’s tough — I don’t get to see the family as much as I’d like to.”
Starting out was no picnic, either.
“Luckily it’s paid off, but it was a huge risk,” said Sacks, a former caterer and tennis instructor. “You have to know a lot.”
He learned by trial and error, initially having to give away or discard a lot of food from over-ordering, he said. Truck maintenance was another learning curve for Sacks, who said paying someone else to do it would just become too costly.
“It’s hard to ride out the winter,” he added. “That’s probably the biggest challenge.”
Sobel, who lives in Red Bank with his wife and their two kids, has faced regulatory challenges since day one, when he scrambled for work after the vegan restaurant where he was a chef closed.
He saved money to buy a “beatup” truck and started off in Hoboken. There, the Cinnamon Snail had to contend with a rule that required food trucks to change locations after each sale, similar to an ice cream truck, he said.
After a year, the Cinnamon Snail made trails into New York and Jersey City, as well as Red Bank, where he found that the majority of streets did not allow his business.
“Most areas of Jersey are pretty strict about it,” Sobel said.
What many towns don’t realize, he said, is that visitors to the Cinnamon Snail do not detract from brickand mortar businesses; instead, they imbue the town’s economy with dollars spent after dining at the truck.
Groups that advocate for food trucks — the National Food Truck Association, Mobile Food Truck Vendors Association and regional organizations — work to make changes to local ordinances to provide a more amenable place at the table for the mobile eateries.
Serrano opened a stationary Empanada Guy establishment in Freehold early this year to serve more as a manufacturing plant than a restaurant, although it is thriving as both.
“I had to build my own little factory … to support these trucks,” said the Freehold resident, who whips up anywhere from 40,000 to 80,000 empanadas each month.
His daughter Jessica, 15, works the register. Her sisters — Jennifer, 11, and Jilly, 4 — may also someday join the family business.
Serrano has high praises for his wife, GiGi, who stuck with him through the hard times and works alongside him now.
“She’s basically the backbone of all the clerical, the billing — and the vision,” he said. “She’s the wizard you never get to see.”
Sobel’s wife, Joey, also helped in getting the Cinnamon Snail going, and has now taken on the task of making wedding cakes for their catering gigs.
Like many food trucks, Empanada Guy and Oink & Moo also offer catering.
The food truckers agreed that there’s something great about the lifestyle that allows them to go where the business is, and interact with people in a way that just can’t happen for chefs in restaurants.
Oink & Moo skips around the state, and is at PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel for every concert this summer.
“It’s rewarding, because you get to see people enjoying the food,” said Sacks, who merges barbecue styles from his travels around the country for his handsmoked meats and made-fromscratch sauces and rubs. “We’re getting people in good moods, looking to have a good time. That is what makes it fun.”
The relationships and shared experiences between chefs and customers make for a dynamic that goes beyond the simple business transaction.
After superstorm Sandy in 2012, Sobel felt an obligation to help those affected by giving away his sought-after food.
“It was a moment where I couldn’t think of doing anything but that,” he said, adding that he donated in the Rockaway Beach and Staten Island areas, because Monmouth County regulations dictated that he couldn’t even give away food from his truck there.
Sobel and his wife are well-acquainted with the concept of community and doing good. Both yoga teachers, they host free classes at their home twice a week.
“They’re always giving back to the community, so it’s nice to support something like that,” Wyman said.
And the Cinnamon Snail’s food has its own mission.
“I’m primarily concerned with people lessening their consumption of animals. I think the more people that can stop eating animals, the kinder of a world it will be,” Sobel said. “I feel like being out there, we really help people break down their misconceptions. … It’s super fulfilling.”
Social media serves as a best friend to trucks, telling followers where their favorites will be on a given day.
Serrano cited Facebook as a godsend.
“Once I understood it, I embraced it and it fit me like a glove,” he said.
The food truck business clearly fits him the same way.
“This is not about empanadas; my movement is not about that,” Serrano said. “It’s about free enterprise and the American Dream.”