Sobering Reality - Why watch The Great Food Truck Race when it isn't that interesting

Good evening.

Having promised some discussion on food television, I wanted to write a bit on the third season of The Great Food Truck Race, which had its premiere on Food Network Canada this Wednesday evening.  (I know that if you happen be reading this in the States, the real premiere was a week and half ago on a Sunday evening.) I wanted to watch this particular culinary reality show partially because the increase in popularity and creativity of portable foods in recent years has intrigued me.  In addition to that, this season, the show is using people with an idea and skills but without a truck; they are loaned trucks and the winners get to keep theirs.  Breaking into the food truck industry is something that someone I know has wanted to do for a while and I was holding out hope that it would be semi-educational in that context. 

The Great Food Truck Race did not open well, for me at least: it was quite pedestrian.  Tyler Florence is the host; I have enjoyed a number of his recipes, especially those from his show Tyler’s Ultimate but he is not the most dynamic of television personality out there.  Similarly, many of the eight teams seemed designed to fill stereotypes, like the old Italian men quoting Sopranos (Pizza Mike’s,) the Italian Jersey girls (Nonna’s Kitchen,) the flamboyant Californians (Pop – A – Waffle,) the downhome  Southerners (Coast of Atlanta) and the fumbling prettyish girls, who happen to be Australian and do barbeque (Barbie Babes.)   With the unique things I have seen and heard about being served in food trucks lately, there was also nothing in the fare of the contestants that peaked my interest. 

The three that seemed promising food-wise, a family operation from Alaska called Momma’s Grizzly Grub, a group of young Korean-Americans called Seoul Sausage and some pie makers called Under the Crust, were not able to showcase anything interesting because of logistical constraints.  This is where the show actually got interesting for me because it felt like it presented a condensed version of the heartbreaking compromise and the battery of microproblems that are involved in opening a restaurant.  For instance, Seoul Sausage’s menu promised Korean sausages and seemed the most unique, but they did not end up serving a single one.  The teams were given a truck with cooking facilities but nothing else, they were provided $1500 to buy any other equipment they needed, their supplies and a long list of items required by the health code.  Because of the code supplies, the three young men that made up Seoul Sausage were not able to purchase a sausage-maker, meaning they had to make burgers flavoured with Korean spices.  Incidents like this combined with finding a location, drastically paring down menus and resorting to gimmicky salesmanship made this feel like a more realistic reality show.  The culmination of this veracity was that only one of the eight teams made back the $1500 they were given, with one taking in less than $200.  I will be watching again, hoping that teams can get their act together enough to show me interesting food but also because I was educated in the reality that sometimes they can’t.  I have yet to pick a favourite team, which often makes similar shows more watchable but one benefit is that it means my favourite wasn’t kicked off tonight.

Tomorrow, how reality food television made me read about sixteen century Protestant martyrs and Ben Jonson’s Bartholomew Fair.