Food carts. I’m kind of an undecided voter on this one. Never really SO cheap that that’s the draw… no seats… cash only… often slow. But, fun for the same reasons; funky, underground-y feeling, novel, a little bit hipsterific. I’ve been driving by this Michael’s Bibimbap place for ages and been meaning to stop and today was finally the day. Hunger and convenience and cash all came together at once.

My order: Rice, shredded carrots, zucchini, and lettuce, a big bunch of bean sprouts, some seaweed, “spicy” sauce, kim chi, bulgogi. Extra kim chi for moi (I am my father the kim chi master’s daughter, after all.) There’s one guy in there (Michael?) taking orders and whipping up b-bops for the growing line. Got mine after a few minutes and was going to take it home and eat it at a table like a civilized human, but that just seemed totally inappropriate. Instead, I plopped down on the curb and mixed it all up, as per instructions, and chowed down. Pretty good. Not nearly spicy enough. (Although I’m pretty sure I’ve demolished my spice sensors because I was at Homegrown getting my usual avocado-egg-post-horrifically-early-morning-yoga-sandwich, and realized that the habanero sauce I once daintily spread an incredibly thin little layer of, I now dunk my sandwich in like ketchup. So that’s good.) And the kim chi was very zing-less. And I wished I had chop sticks so I would feel all Korean and legit/wouldn’t eat so fast. But warm and good. After a few years of self-imposed brown rice and quinoa law, man, I forgot how freakin’ good a big ol’ scoop of sticky white rice is. And how fun it is to eat perched on a parking barrier.