I work in what is known as a food desert*, so food trucks--or as I like to call them restaurants without borders--are not just bearers of food, but bearers of hope. Unfortunately these aid workers experience many of the same set backs facing their colleagues abroad. Supply shortages, government negotiations, and massive throngs of people in need often make it difficult for aid to reach those most in need (read me, Three!) So when I heard about DC's Curbside Cookoff, a gathering of all of the city's best food-mobiles I thought it must be too good to be true.

Annnnnd, it kind of was. Here I was thinking the lines at work were long, but this was probably 10x worse. But luckily our search for the great food truck gathering brought us out of the desert and into the land of milk and honey that is China Town. So Brother S and I got falafel at a normal restaurant and called it a night.

*note: I work in a desert, not dessert (though one day the latter will be true, whipped cream wrestling here I come!)

a true dream machine

Now that's a noble cause.

CAUTION! Giant hungry people ahead!

Soooo happy to have food!
Why does Brother S make me look so trashy?