Alder St. Part 1

My first cart was originally located downtown on SW 9th and Alder St, all 8x12 of it...truly palatial. I was tucked away from from the main strip directly facing Magpie vintage clothing store. Now all that remains is a giant, slopey dent in the parking lot that my little cart called home. It was my first venture at this whole cart thing and everyone else was mostly located downtown...well, why not me? A friend of a friend told me about this cart for sale and with no hesitation I jumped on it. Stars in my eyes I eagerly waited to meet the owner of the cart and get a peek inside. As she unlocked the cart and pryed the sticky door open I got my first real glimpse of said cart....what a turd! It was nasty, greasy, dirty, smelling of stale weed, something potentially died under this cart grossness. After standing there for a few minutes taking in all its beauty I turned to "Eunice" and asked if she would accept a deposit? Begrudgingly, she agreed and that was the beginning to the birth of The Sugar Cube.

The keys burned in the sweaty palm of my hand as for the first time I placed it in the lock, took a deep breath and waited for the click. After prying the door open I took my first step into my new digs. The stale air was thick as the windows have been shuttered for months, sealing in all the nasty dankity dankness. I flicked on the awful fluorescent lights which dimly glowed in the lime green interior...Jesus! It was undoubtedly ugly, but it was mine. I smiled as I could see beyond the greasy lime green walls, rotting floors, morgue like lighting and questionable smells. This cart was destined to be reborn and I was dead set determined on making it happen!

Silly me...I had no idea what I was about to get myself into. Let me start by saying it rhymes with shit....stay tuned for part deux.

So...um I want to start a food cart?

So I was wondering if you had anytime...you could tell me how to start a food cart?



Sure no problem was my answer for the first six month's as I too had to figure out a lot of shit to get this thing rolling. Nowadays, with the ever growing influx of food carts and a quickly growing national following I've had to put the kibosh on how much information I disclose. It's not that I don't want to help, but when it becomes almost an everyday occurrence that people are quizzing you on your equipment, costs, resources...where did ya get this and that, can I take a peak at your business plan? It's gotta stop somewhere. Fuck no! You cannot look at my business plan or scan the insides of my kitchen gallows to copy everything that took me so long to piece together. What you can do is start by researching what type of cart you wish to operate, the competition, best locations and foot traffic and what it's truly like to own and work and out of a metal box that's smaller than your freakin bedroom! DO THE WORK!



Let me start by asking you if you have a family, children, social life, manicured fingernails, any restaurant experience because if you don't...you may be fucked. If you're tired of your cushy job overlooking the waterfront and just want your hands in the dirt...go and do some fucking gardening. Do you really want to deal with nasty grey water that smells like barf, or clogging pumps that are about to explode your holding tanks, pruned and hang nailed fingers from washing so many dishes (and yes you are a glorified dishwasher), the rain that can crush your daily sales in half, something is always breaking, flooding, burning...clunk clank crappity crap on ya! Can you deal? If you can...then proceed to the next paragraph. Otherwise, thank your lucky stars that you have a 9-5 job with bennies, a plump bank account and even a fairly good dental plan.



I probably sound like a bit of a jerk, but I just want to be really honest. I've also spent the last two years hustling my ass to make this dream work and part of the process is learning the steps to get it up and running. It has been one of the hardest things that I have ever done and it has tested me on so many personal and professional levels it could make your head spin. With that being said, it has also been one of the proudest things that I have accomplished and I am truly humbled by the everyday experiences and beautiful and inspiring people I have met along this journey. I have been fortunate to be able to follow my dream and have the support and love to make it happen. Not only the true blue close friends and family in my life, but the everyday customers that have stuck by me and supported me since the inception of my little cart. I truly love and thank you all!



It's fantastic to watch people step up to my cart with a big smile and even though we generally have a quick exchange it's something that makes an imprint on me and perhaps a little imprint on you. I love the clean plates that you return to me, and your chocolaty mustaches that sometimes I don't tell you that you have (he hee) and the warm smiles and contentment that gleam from your face! I love it! I love it! I love it!



This is why I stick around and stand on my feet for 12 plus hours and deal with barfy smelling grey water, 20 trips to Winco, Cash N' Carry, Restaurant Depot, Ghetto Safeway, oven burns that lay tracks on my arms, dry and cracked gnarly fingers, bumps and bruises, smelling like sickeningly sweet chocolate, all my clothes are either bleach or butter stained, carpal tunnel in both my wrists, tennis elbow, haven't had a proper hair cut in five months, circles under my eyes, haven't had a proper lay in four month's because I have no time to date...shall I continue? Even with this long list it has all been worth it and I commend anyone who has a dream to start something of their very own and has the balls to actually bring it to fruition. YOU are inspiring!



If you still wish to start a food cart you should go here: foodcartsportland.com You can also talk to the Multnomah Health Department about requirements for your specific needs.

There is tons of helpful info and insight into the depths of owning and operating a metal box with stuff that makes stuff in it. Take a deep breath, grow a pair and get started. Don't what if it...just do the research, have a plan and make it fucking happen:)



A friend told me this once and I still say this to myself on a regular basis. " Jump first and build your wings on the way down." Now go get started...



xoxoxo!!

And so it began...

I guess I should start at the beginning of my sweet love affair with food and the journey that has led me to this crazy process of opening a food cart. For starters, I have been baking for twelve plus years weaving myself in and out of bakeries, restaurants and hotels. Some so inspiring that it has left a permanent imprint on the way I bake and create my desserts to this day. Others, so heinous and god awful that it too has left a permanent imprint on the way I bake and create my desserts.

If you've ever worked in a kitchen then you know what I'm talking about. It's gritty, dirty, often smelly, chaotic, exhilarating, fast, furious, intense, fucking hot as hell, bloody, sweaty, burny goodness. It's a camaraderie special to its own and a family that is often closer to you than your own flesh and blood. Why? When you spend at least 12-15 hours with the same people...they know your stink pretty damn well. For every shit job I have turned, there is nothing like working in a kitchen with like minded people who also have passion and true love for food. Even the fuckheads I've had to deal with (as you're screaming at me, spittle bombarding my face) I fucking salute you all! You've made a better cook for it.

In the end for me it's all about the passion and drive to eat, create and feed people really amazing food. It's a warm comfort like and old familiar blanket...feeding the hungry gnomes in my belly. Each grumble getting louder and louder as I bring the first, sweet bite to my lips I fucking love to eat! Perhaps, it's a mighty expression and nod to my childhood..watching my mom bake for dinner parties at home and proudly assisting by serving the houderves that consisted of mom's famous cheese puffs and smoked oysters. To this day, I remember leaning over our brass candle holders that flickered a cozy flame...then sizzled as my long, blond hair caught on fire while setting the tray on the table. My ego bruised, I sulked for the remainder of the night as my brother ran around telling all the guests that I smelled like a fart. Thanks Dave! I also spent a great deal of time at my father's smokehouse munching on liverwurst and pumpernickel sammie's sitting on the cool stainless steel counter tops curiously observing my dad washing away pools of strong smelling irony blood into the cracked concrete drains. His sausage like fingers (no really he wears a size 20 ring band) would grasp the lever to the smoker and with one swift movement the heavy, char crusted door would pop open and there was this instant flurry of the alluring smell of smoked meats. It had super powers that would seep deep into your clothes and hair and for the rest of the night I would smell like a smoked sausage...thanks dad! There lay racks and racks of glistening meat, dripping it's infinite gloriousness, pitter pattering and sizzling onto the gristly floor. These images are forever seared like a good cut of meat into my memory. Whatever it was that sparked this fascination with food I am grateful.

And so it began...

PS: This is my first post...so try to forgive the grammatical errors:)