It’s been a hot summer here in Central Florida, with heat indices often reaching triple digits. When you think of people who have to work in this heat, like farmers or construction workers, there’s one group that’s not often on the list: people who work on food trucks.
Despite the temperatures Inside Given the triple-digit capacity of food trucks and the health risks associated with them, some food truck chefs said their passion outweighs the heat.
“When the table is full and the sun is shining, it can be quite exhausting,” says Elliot Hillis, co-owner and chef of a food truck. “You don’t cook professionally because it’s convenient.”
Hillis began his love of food at the age of four and discovered a gift for the art of cooking. After working in the industry for several years, he introduced his hand-pulled noodle company, known as Red Panda Noodles, to his business partners.
Hillis and co-owner Seth Parker wanted a brick-and-mortar store, but expensive locations and operating costs forced them to turn to food trucks as an alternative.
“It’s a really exciting prospect to just be on the road all the time and be where the people are,” Hillis said. “With a food truck, you have a place to go to the people, and that helps in slow times because you can kind of look for opportunities.”
Spice and oppressive heat
But food trucks bring their own challenges, including heat. Hillis said his truck reached over 80 degrees. After operating the truck for more than two years, he noticed that the heat in the kitchen was really affecting his employees, and not just the temperature.
“The first thing our new employees have to deal with is not the heat, but the spices in the truck,” he said. “When you cook spicy food, it gets aerosolized, so you’re constantly being hit by low-strength pepper spray.”
And the summer sun makes it even worse.
“The heat contributes to it because it suffocates you,” he said. “The heat grabs your lungs, almost like you’re in a sauna. You can take a long, slow, deep breath, but when you try to gasp for air, it hits you right in the lungs.”
Hillis said he learned to manage his expectations of fresh, cool air to get through his shift.
“On the few occasions when it goes above 180 degrees, you kneel down for a second and it’s much cooler, about waist level. Then you take a few breaths and get back into the fray,” Hillis said.
Kayla Kissel
/
Public Media in Central Florida
Most of his customers had no idea how hot it really gets inside. When asked, customers outside the truck estimated the temperature to be somewhere between 95 and 130 degrees, far from the normal range of 140 to 180 degrees.
Kiera Diehl is a regular customer of Red Panda Noodles and said she fears for the safety of the food truck employees.
“These food trucks have grills and ovens,” Diehl said. “It’s hot enough out here. I can’t imagine being in an insulated metal box.”
Warmth and health
Not only customers are concerned about the well-being of these employees, but also some health authorities.
Thomas Clinton, a professor at the University of Florida’s School of Health and Human Performance, said food truck workers are at risk from heat illness.
“One of the most common effects of these people is heat exhaustion. Because of the impact on the central nervous system, people start to make mistakes,” Clinton said. “There are industries where workers are exposed to heat stress in the summer months, falling off scaffolding or cutting their fingers. They just don’t have as much control over their motor functions.”
Kayla Kissel
/
Public Media in Central Florida
But despite the risk, Hillis said his love for cooking was greater.
“I had a few situations on the truck where I didn’t know if I was going to pass out or not, and there was no stopping me,” Hillis said. “When you get through it and you didn’t crash and you didn’t die, you think, ‘Wow!’ You appreciate life more, the air tastes sweeter.”
Passion outweighs the risks
Hillis receives this appreciation from his customers, including one woman’s experience with a single dish.
“I had a woman whose parents fled communist China to Taiwan when the exile happened. She said, ‘Oh, you make jjajangmyeon (noodle dish),'” Hillis said.
He said yes, and Hillis fulfilled his promise to the woman about Jjajangmyeon, but he didn’t expect the tears in her eyes when he asked her how it was.
“She told me about her father. He died young and made a jjajangmyeon for her. Her connection to this particular noodle is to her father,” Hillis said. “She could see it again, she could feel it again.”
The ability to make that connection outweighs the heat – even at the risk of short- or long-term health problems.
“I feel like my life is better because I was a chef. However, I have certainly shortened my life or caused irreparable damage to my body by cooking,” Hillis said.
“We’re all going to die. We don’t like to think about it. But if I can spend my time doing something that people enjoy and that I enjoy, and I have to die a little earlier because of it, then I say I’ve lived a good life so far.”
