honest food



Frank says...
27 Feb

Souped Up Competition

On Saturday, February 17th, all of the Expo Market vendors [Frank, Mercato, Breezy Burrito, Sun Roll, Newbury Salads and GBGB competed in the 2nd annual Souped Up Competition. Each vendor was responsible for two different soups. Frank was new to the competition this year. We let our team captains take the lead on this event. Our hot dog princess, Sabrina Katrina, made a Roasted Tomato Parm soup finished with housemade garlic rosemary croutons & parm cheese. Dan went with a modern spin on Pasta Fagioli, incorporating our own Original frank hot dogs into the classic Italian bean and pasta soup. Both soups were smash hits! In the end, our Roasted Tomato Parm soup won Best Vegetarian Soup! Big thanks to everyone who braved the cold weather and came out to the event. It was a lot of fun & we got to show our Expo Market friends that #teamfrank is capable of

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1 Feb

Part III

Fourth of July Fireworks As people and business owners, Frank and I are very protective of our team. We want the best for all of them and care about their welfare, safety and general well-being. One day, all of that was put to the test in one of the scariest moments in food truck history. It was 4th of July at Canalside. Fantastic day, perfect weather. And busy! Jill Marie, Dan and I all planned on watching the firework show at the end of the night. Well, that never happened. About five minutes after selling out and closing the service window, Jill and I heard loud noises and people racing by the food truck. I opened the back door and saw hundreds of people scared out of their minds. They were running, screaming and yelling – literally, booking it the hell out of there. A moment later, Dan came rushing

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31 Jan

Part II

The last five years have been pretty incredible. And while we like talking about all of the fun stuff, there have been plenty of nightmares. In Part II of this series, we take you thru some of the scariest moments we experienced driving the food truck. Red Light It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Frank and I had just finished a lunch service on Essjay Road in Williamsville – about ten-minutes from our commissary. We were both in good spirits. It was a busy lunch, there was a line, we didn’t yell at each other, and all of the equipment turned on and worked properly. Well, for the most part. On our way back to the kitchen, we were driving down Sheridan Drive, towards the intersection at North Forest, when Frank stepped on the breaks. I heard his foot hit the floor. The truck wasn’t slowing down. And the light was still red. I sat

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