What makes food trucks so popular?

One might turn to a mobile proprietor for a definitive answer, but many of them ask the same question.

Becky Steinman has parked her namesake truck around Mexico for several years. The owner of Steinman’s food truck and the brick and mortar Bucky’s Sit and Get can only speculate that people consider the experience fun.

“I’m not sure why,” said Rachel Wilson, who operates the popular breakfast truck Morning Glory. “It seems to have become a fad.”

Monday marks the start of the week of food trucks in Mexico, hosted by the Audrain Community Hospital Auxiliary in the facility’s parking lot. Steinman’s truck is up first, serving lunch. Tuesday brings the El Oso Mexican truck from Columbia.

Morning Glory serves breakfast Wednesday morning until they sell out, which can happen quickly. Thursday is all about treats, with Kona Ice visiting from Columbia and Big Gun Kettle Corn making the not as long trek from Laddonia.

The Munch Box wraps up the series on Friday.

Food Trucks are not a recent innovation. Street vendors have been around for centuries. Cowboys dined from chuck wagons. Tamale carts became a staple in the 1930s and ‘40s. The jingle of ice cream trucks brought squeals of delight through the ‘60s.

But actual mobile kitchens tended to be solely functional in the past, dishing out lunch basics at construction sites and factories. Now, however, chef-driven trucks are destinations for innovative fusion, farm to table or niche menus.

“I’ll see one and say ‘ooh -- food truck. Let’s stop,” Wilson said.

The transformation began around 15 years ago. Young chefs determined to make a go on their own found it less expensive to open a gourmet mobile kitchen than a traditional restaurant. Navigating city codes, marketing online, they began to attract regulars.

By 2010, The Great Food Truck Race debuted on television. A year later the Zagat guide began printing formal reviews of food trucks.

In cities like Portland, Oregon and Austin, Texas young people crowded around popular vehicles. Jealous hipsters in other locations began calling for food truck scenes. City Councils became more accommodating.

According to IBISWorld, between 2015 and 2020 the industry grew by an average of 7.5 percent each year.

“I love food trucks,” Steinman said. “It’s so fast paced.”

She’s referring to what goes on inside the vehicle. Mobile chefs don’t have the luxury or walk in freezers or extensive prep space. They bump elbows. They crank out dozens of orders from a couple of burners, a fryer, a toaster oven.

“People think the food truck industry is easy, but it’s a lot of work,” Steinman added.

While many start up kitchens opted for wheels because it was less expensive, Steinman saw the food truck as a way to use ingredients left over from catering gigs.

And it worked. When she parks in Mexico, lines form for catfish, chicken fried chicken, cheesy potatoes or whatever she has planned for the day.

At Morning Glory, Wilson gives her menu a Biblical twist. The massive breakfast burrito is dubbed “Holy Roller.” A plate of mini biscuits smothered in gravy becomes “Daily Bread.” The fried pecan pies? They could be called divine.

“We are also a ministry,” Wilson explained. “We knew we could do that better if we were mobile.”

The names, the specialty menus, the varied locations, the improvisational nature of the entire scene -- perhaps Steinman is right about the soaring popularity of food trucks.

“People think it’s fun,” she said.