The Food Truck at the End of the Road

At the end of the road to the beach where we vacation, there's a food truck run by a couple from Trinidad. It has no sign, just a hand-painted pepper on the side and a line every evening at six.

The husband makes doubles: fried bread with curried chickpeas and tamarind sauce. The wife makes the coconut bake and handles the crowd, calling everyone "darling" and remembering every regular from last summer.

We've been going for five summers now. When my youngest started walking, she toddled straight to the truck window and the wife leaned out and handed her a little paper boat of fried plantain. "For the new customer," she said.

My kids count down the days to that first evening every year. Honestly, so do I. The beach is great. The doubles are why we come back.