A quick confession: I have never been a food truck consumer, unless ice cream trucks at the beach count. And I somehow doubt it. However, as food trucks themselves increase in number (and delicious smells), so too do the questions surrounding them. Take for example, these posts on Silver Spring Singular and Greater Greater Washington in the past couple of days:

In sum, the former argues that: “After my initial enthusiasm over the arrival of this new truck wore off, I started to wonder if this arrangement is really fair to more permanent Silver Spring restaurateurs. Simply by virtue of being on wheels, any new food truck spotted in Silver Spring will create a buzz that eclipses that enjoyed by most of the local ‘brick & mortar’ restaurants.”

In a direct response, the latter points out that food trucks are not competing with traditional restaurants, but rather filling the gaps in Silver Spring dining: “Successful food trucks are ones that offer something that brick-and-mortar restaurants currently don’t. They’re also ways to draw hungry customers to areas of downtown Silver Spring that haven’t finished developing, which could help the restaurants already there.”

Again, I am not a food truck connoisseur — although I sure know and appreciate the expanding dining options in the downtown Silver Spring area — and I am not sure that we can yet determine the impact of four-wheeled restaurants on those with permanent foundations. However, I think that the food truck model itself is both smart and relevant to the non-profit world.

In sum, food trucks do two things better than most food providers: specificity and movability. With so little space at their disposal, these trucks do not have the burden of full-service kitchen expectations. Instead, they have the freedom to focus on a very particular cuisine or service style. They also have the ability to transport the service to the client — rather than require the client to transport themselves to the service location. Moreover, most restaurants do not disappear and reappear, but food trucks have an odd hint of magic in how they come and go.

Thus food trucks share a few intriguing traits with young, small non-profits. While not as visible or established as their “brick-and-mortar” counterparts, small (and peripatetic) charities have some unique advantages: to paraphrase GGW, they fill the gaps. They provide targeted services that few others do, they focus and specialize as others might not dare, and they often move to and from the neighborhoods where those services are needed most. And in the process, they bring new vitality — and perhaps a bit of magic.

What do you think of the truck-and-restaurant conflict? And do you see a connections between this four-wheeled commercial enterprise and our world? Why or why not?