.png)
.png)
.png)
.png)
Our Mission: Smash Hard, Sauce Heavy, Leave You Begging for More
About Us
Our Mission: Smash Hard, Sauce Heavy, Leave You Begging for More
much as the truck itself isAfter high school, I spent most of my time working in restaurants. Abel and I would cook together at home, but inside I felt like my early 20s were slipping away working for someone else’s dream. Deep down, I knew I wanted to build something of my own.
I saved up every dollar I could — about $15,000 — from grinding in the kitchen and making smart investments. With that, I decided to start something for myself. I made banners, designed a logo, collected whatever equipment I could… and then I stumbled on a food truck for sale on Marketplace.
My brother and I went to check out the marketplace listing. It broke down on the test drive. Most people would’ve walked away — but I towed it home. That truck became my project, my obsession, and my biggest test of patience. I spent five months fixing the engine, rebuilding fridges, cutting windows, wiring electrical, painting, polishing (and polishing again when I messed up), drawing chalk outlines on the ground to plan the kitchen, and even doing side jobs just to trade for parts. We ate like cavemen most nights to survive. We collected a few injuries along the way, but we keep pushing
Eventually, we had our first Donation Day. Friends and family only. Nothing from scratch yet, and everything seemed to break — the fridge, the vent, the electrical. But people showed up, they believed in us, and their support gave us just enough to try again.
Donation Day #2 was different. This time, it was real. Fresh buns from Benji, better meat, everything made from scratch. We spent the very last dollar we had on stock. If it didn’t work, we would’ve been done. But people came, they loved the food, and nothing broke down. That day, The Food Pitt was truly born.
Once our permits were finished, we were officially open. But the first season was brutal. Some days we split $50, some days we made nothing. We chose to put every dime back into better quality ingredients instead of paying ourselves, even when it meant going without. We worked through the freezing winter, through ice and snow, holding on to nothing but a dream.
Slowly, people started to notice. We began getting lunches and small events. By the next season, the emails came faster, the jobs got bigger, and Mikey joined the grind with us. Together we built better, worked harder, and pushed ourselves to keep improving every single day.
The Food Pitt isn’t just a truck. It’s late nights, scraped knuckles, frozen mornings, broken equipment, and a hundred reasons to give up that we never took. It’s the story of Abel, of family, of friends who believed in us, and of building something from nothing with heart.
We’re still just getting started — but we’re proud to say: this is The Food Pitt
How It All Started
The Food Pitt didn’t just start with food — it started with love. Love for dogs, for family, for hard work, and for building something out of nothing.
Back in high school, I saved Abel’s mom, Tara, from parvo. Not long after, Abel was born my senior year. The second I saw him, I knew he was my dog. He’s been with me through every season of life since, and he is The Food Pitt as much as the truck itself is. After high school, I spent most of my time working in restaurants. Abel and I would cook together at home, but inside I felt like my early 20s were slipping away working for someone else’s dream. Deep down, I knew I wanted to build something of my own.
The Food Pitt didn’t just start with food — it started with love. Love for dogs, for family, for hard work, and for building something out of nothing.Back in high school, I saved Abel’s mom, Tara, from parvo. Not long after, Abel was born my senior year. The second I saw him, I knew he was my dog. He’s been with me through every season of life since, and he is The Food Pitt as
I saved up every dollar I could — about $15,000 — from grinding in the kitchen and making smart investments. With that, I decided to start something for myself. I made banners, designed a logo, collected whatever equipment I could… and then I stumbled on a food truck for sale on Marketplace.
My brother and I went to check out the marketplace listing. It broke down on the test drive. Most people would’ve walked away — but I towed it home. That truck became my project, my obsession, and my biggest test of patience. I spent five months fixing the engine, rebuilding fridges, cutting windows, wiring electrical, painting, polishing (and polishing again when I messed up), drawing chalk outlines on the ground to plan the kitchen, and even doing side jobs just to trade for parts. We ate like cavemen most nights to survive. We collected a few injuries along the way, but we keep pushing
Eventually, we had our first Donation Day. Friends and family only. Nothing from scratch yet, and everything seemed to break — the fridge, the vent, the electrical. But people showed up, they believed in us, and their support gave us just enough to try again.
Donation Day #2 was different. This time, it was real. Fresh buns from Benji, better meat, everything made from scratch. We spent the very last dollar we had on stock. If it didn’t work, we would’ve been done. But people came, they loved the food, and nothing broke down. That day, The Food Pitt was truly born.
Once our permits were finished, we were officially open. But the first season was brutal. Some days we split $50, some days we made nothing. We chose to put every dime back into better quality ingredients instead of paying ourselves, even when it meant going without. We worked through the freezing winter, through ice and snow, holding on to nothing but a dream.
Slowly, people started to notice. We began getting lunches and small events. By the next season, the emails came faster, the jobs got bigger, and Mikey joined the grind with us. Together we built better, worked harder, and pushed ourselves to keep improving every single day.
The Food Pitt isn’t just a truck. It’s late nights, scraped knuckles, frozen mornings, broken equipment, and a hundred reasons to give up that we never took. It’s the story of Abel, of family, of friends who believed in us, and of building something from nothing with heart.
We’re still just getting started — but we’re proud to say: this is The Food Pitt
