Yelp's Top 100 Food Trucks: A Westlake Mother's Worst Nightmare

Oh, joy. Just what Austin needed—another reason for food trucks to clog up our streets while decent, tax-paying citizens like myself are forced to dodge rogue picnic tables and the lingering stench of artisanal kimchi. Nine food trucks in Yelp’s top 100? That’s nine too many if you ask me. I can already hear the distant hum of generators and the clatter of compostable forks hitting the pavement.

Let’s start with Jim’s Smokehouse, the so-called "No. 2" barbecue truck. I’m sorry, but if I want barbecue, I’ll go to a proper restaurant with real silverware and a hostess who knows my name (and my preferred table). The idea of waiting in line next to someone’s unleashed golden retriever for a brisket taco is not my idea of fine dining. And don’t even get me started on T-Loc’s Sonora Hot Dogs. A bacon-wrapped hot dog? Groundbreaking. I could make that in my Viking range at home, thank you very much, without the risk of contracting food poisoning from a truck that may or may not have been inspected this decade.

Then there’s Bodhi Viet Vegan. Vegan food from a truck? That’s like serving tap water at a wine tasting. If I wanted to eat something that tastes like regret, I’d just chew on my organic kale chips in silence. And Ceviche7? Raw fish from a vehicle? Hard pass. I’ll stick to my overpriced sushi from the place with valet parking, where the only risk is my husband flirting with the waitress, not salmonella.

And let’s talk about the real tragedy here: the location of these so-called "culinary gems." Burnet Road? Lamar? Barton Springs? These are places I avoid unless I’m en route to a Pilates class or a charity gala. Now I have to worry about my Lexus getting sideswiped by some hipster on a fixie while he’s too busy Instagramming his Buenos Sabores empanada.

But the worst offender? Granny’s Tacos, which has somehow "graduated" to a brick-and-mortar. Congratulations, you’ve officially gentrified the neighborhood. Next thing you know, they’ll be selling $12 margaritas and hosting poetry slams.

Look, I’m all for supporting small businesses—as long as they’re the right kind of small businesses. Like the boutique that sells $200 candles or the artisanal cheese shop where the staff knows my order by heart. But this food truck nonsense? It’s a slippery slope. First, it’s tacos. Next, it’s pop-up galleries. Before you know it, my HOA will be overrun with mural festivals and people who think socks with sandals are acceptable attire.

So, congratulations, Austin. You’ve officially cemented your status as the capital of culinary chaos. Meanwhile, I’ll be at the country club, eating a properly plated salad and pretending this list doesn’t exist.