Viral eatery: Customers queue for food at Kogi, a Korean barbecue-inspired taco truck, in Torrance, California. Photo: Reuters
The food truck was a good idea waiting for technology to set it free. Like Jules Verne's submarine, or Leonardo Da Vinci's flying machine, the kitchen on wheels was a concept ahead of its time. It only had to wait for the invention of social media to release the handbrake on its potential.
The godfather of food trucks, Los Angeles chef Roy Choi, showed how to use Twitter and Facebook and Korean short rib tacos to lure several hundred people at a pop to an empty supermarket car park.
What a smarty pants. He tapped not only into his customers' hunger pangs but their thirst for adventure and the eternal pursuit of cool.
A burger from Sydney's Vegie Patch van. Photo: Steven Siewert
Newsweek magazine called Choi's Kogi trucks "America's first viral eatery", which could have killed the concept dead had anyone stopped to think about the connotations, but think they didn't and eat they did. And eat.
The only restaurants capable of simultaneously getting stuck in traffic and messaging customers about the delay are diversifying faster than you can say American barbecue-Thai street food-New Orleans gumbo.
In that spirit, try these fantasy food trucks on for size. They're free of red tape (no mobile food vehicle permits needed here) and occasionally flout the laws of physics, but in the perfect food truck world these would rule the road.
The fried fish taco from The Taco Truck, Melbourne. Photo: Vanessa Levis
The one-dish restaurant truck. Move over Mr Whippy, here's the MoVida smoked tomato sorbet truck - anchovy optional. B'stilla deserves its own b'stilla bus. Ditto the Golden Fields lobster roll (Twitter: @LobsterRoller). And the Gazi souvlaki should definitely have its own vehicle, but only if George Calombaris drives.
The playground truck. Does the rounds of playgrounds, spreading coffee, cheer and super-sweet pastries to exhausted parents pretending to enjoy the hundredth game of chasey.
The salted caramel truck. You name it, we add salted caramel to it. Also does take-away two-litre containers. Pending consumer demand, the unsalted caramel truck.
The toast with Vegemite and a cup of tea truck, a tribute to Dani Valent. Vegemite can be ordered, "just a scrape" and "right to the edges".
The very best toasted sandwich truck. Two choices: cheese, or ham and cheese. Noisette bread with Pyengana cheddar, a bit of Comte, Myrtleford butter and Istra ham.
The "it's always election day" sausage truck. The supermarket snag in Tip Top white sliced bread. Fried onion and American mustard optional. Served wrapped in an authentic 2013 Senate ballot paper. Must have correct change.
The un-hip food truck. Clean-shaven tracksuit wearers listen to MIX FM while serving the naff food everyone secretly likes: burgers with canned beetroot, pineapple and an egg cooked in an egg ring, Milo forming a thick crust on cold milk, packet jelly, Coon cheese and cabana on toothpicks. A certified hipster exclusion zone.
The future food truck. An invertebrate-only menu: snails (try the French or Cambodian recipe), fried crickets, mealworms and centipedes. On licence from Rene Redzepi.
An offal lot of love truck. A nose to tail bonanza, from head cheese to pigs' trotters and everything in between. Immediately recognisable thanks to the life-sized effigy of chef Fergus Henderson on the roof.
The smokin' food truck. Doesn't matter what. Meat, dairy, veg, rubber. Guaranteed to do a burnout with every family-sized meal deal.
The cultural cringe truck Whatever's totally hot right now in New York, London, Paris and Rio de Janeiro. Cronuts and ramen burgers, pork buns and Korean short rib tacos. Menu changes every 24 hours.
The Eastern European express. Comfort food from behind the Iron Curtain. Cup-a-borscht, pierogi with sour cream and dill, cabbage every which way. Weeping permitted.
The Sopranos food truck. All the family favourites from Tony Soprano and his food-loving mob, from pasta fazool to Artie Bucco's special one-handed marinara and quail, Sinatra-style.
The fried rice food van. One dish: fried rice made with guanciale, king prawns and organic free-range eggs. No peas.
The Harry Potter platform nine and three-quarters truck. Magically appears when you stagger out of a bar at 3am. On the menu: hot chips, Panadol, Berocca and a pillow. If you ask nicely they might even drive you home.
What's your dream food truck? Jump on the comments and share your suggestion.