Before making it to the food trucks parked out back, there is an area inside a little building located at the entrance of the Truck Yard. This is the exact spot where a practically world-famous cheesesteak sandwich can be found. People apparently drive beyond the state line for this particular sandwich. It even has a special place where customers walk through doors to watch the glory in progress. The cooks cooking promised that placing cheese whiz on top of the onion, pepper, jalapeño covered cheesesteak sandwich was something positive that would not cause regret. One of the talented cheesesteak sandwich cooks basically said the cheese whiz was necessary in sealing the cheesesteak deal, so I believed her.
I left the cheesesteak area to have a seat at the bar while deciding where to eat outside. Sitting one seat over was a news reporter doing jello shots with her Dallas news reporter boyfriend. She was in from Denver and seemed quite friendly at first sight. We started chit-chatting about this and that when all of the sudden she entered my personal face space growling, “You don’t like KOREANS!?” She was super waif-like with a beautiful ingenue presence, so it was solid scary when she bulked up the way body builders do before a competition. It was like a scene from some kind of sorority movie where the valedictorian gets drunk for the first time, beats up the closest person possible, then throws up while her popular friends hold her hair. Wouch. Just wouch.
Going back to the “You don’t like KOREANS!?” moment. Um, I actually said, “This cheesesteak sandwich looks crazy great.” How does someone get these words confused? Jello shot people, maybe? Even more important of an important point: I’m married to an Asian guy. Duh. Like I’m going to hate on lovely Koreans doing jello shots. I complimented her on how great she looked in her royal blue dress, too. Who compliments, then slings a racial slur all over the place? This was all raining on my Truck Yard parade in a big way. The irony of a reporter needing to be reported, right?
Her reporter boyfriend quickly came to my non-racial-slur defense by letting his jello shot girlfriend know she was a little confused. Luckily, a bartender with gigantic hulk muscles was ready to step in and block the drunk news reporter from sucker punching me as I became lost in an uncontrollable cheesesteak sandwich trance. Why so much drama at the Truck Yard? Holy moly.
Confirmation that the female reporter was probably above average friendly, yet jello shot drunk, came when she asked me to walk outside to sit with them at their table less than fourteen seconds after bucking up for round one. Um, pass on that, but thanks. Thanks a lot. Moving on out and over to the food trucks lining the Truck Yard was next on the agenda. Pizza seemed like the right thing to eat, so I stopped by the Bellatrino truck, which was not a mistake. They have salads, sandwiches, tons of pizza, apps, and dessert. Even better, they are— fast.
Being a Truck Yard first-timer was filled with excitement, along with an interesting atmosphere, and finally a place for food trucks to call home.
FIVE: High 5!
FOUR: Please & Thank You
TWO: Double Wow
ONE: Wow + Ouch = Wouch
5624 Sears Street
Dallas, TX 75206