The future of food trucks is uncertain at Drexel after university vows crackdown

Drexel University alerted a cluster of popular food trucks this week that it would begin enforcing a raft of city vending laws next month — an announcement food truck operators see as an effort to remove them from campus entirely.

At least one of the trucks, Pete’s Little Lunchbox, said it would close next week after 17 years because of the enforcement push.

Perhaps most significantly, Drexel told longtime operators that it would begin enforcing a city ordinance requiring mobile vendors to vacate their spots each night. Operators on North 33rd Street by Arch said that this would effectively end their businesses; if they left each night, the street would fill with parked cars and they would not be able to find a spot when they returned. The initiative was first reported by The Triangle, Drexel’s student newspaper.

“I’ve worked here for 17 years. I love my job. I know it’s hard work but I love all my customers,” said Sandy Tang, co-owner of Pete’s Little Lunchbox, as she wiped away tears on Friday.

Tang said she had decided to close the truck permanently on April 4, the same deadline Drexel gave trucks to comply, because it would not be possible to continue operating under the enforced regulations. Her co-worker, who did not want to share his name for fear of repercussions, said that vendors labor six days a week, thirteen hours a day, to serve affordable food to Drexel students and local workers. Their livelihoods are now uncertain.

Drexel declined to say what prompted the enforcement announcement or how many trucks were notified. A Drexel spokeswoman said that “the University supports this vending tradition as a food option for its community,” but for what she described as safety reasons, Drexel police are “reminding vendors of street vending rules established by the City.”

A steady stream of customers, many of whom Tang greeted by name, ordered breakfast sandwiches and cheesesteaks from the truck on Friday morning. Some had seen the news on social media, where a petition to “Save Drexel Food Carts” was circulating.

“It really sucks because it’s a mom-and-pop shop with older people here trying to make a living,” said Torin Middlebrooks, a Drexel student studying software engineering who has frequented Pete’s Little Lunchbox for four years. “As soon as they see my face, they know my order and they start making it.”

Drexel delivered the news in an informational packet titled “Mobile Food Vendor Safety Initiative” that was distributed on Wednesday and Thursday. In addition to fire safety tips and an info sheet on compressed gas cylinders, the packet detailed the city’s mobile food regulations, highlighting in blue “ongoing violations we see daily.” The regulations state that trucks must be spaced 30 feet apart to prevent fires from spreading rapidly; that generators and gas cans cannot sit on the street or sidewalk; and that trucks cannot vend between midnight and 7 a.m.

The packet said Drexel police would begin issuing citations for violations on April 4.

Shemeka Moore, a spokesperson for the Department of Licensing & Inspections, said the city has always enforced the mobile vending rules, but that an inspector wouldn’t typically know if a truck was left overnight while doing an inspection during regular business hours.

Drexel has had a fraught relationship with its food trucks for years. In 2015, at Drexel’s request, City Council considered a bill that would have clamped down on food trucks around the school, but the bill was pulled after public outcry. In 2019, City Council passed a bill, again at the request of Drexel, that would ban food trucks from Market between 33rd and 34th streets, but Mayor Jim Kenney vetoed it.

This time around, food truck operators aren’t confident they will get a last-minute reprieve.

“We worry,” said Kim Gov, who runs the food truck Happy Star on Arch Street. She has sold bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and General Tso’s chicken to hungry students and passersby since 2005. If she moves the truck each night, she said, there would be no spot when she returned. She wasn’t sure what she would do when April 4 came, but feared she would not be able to get a different job because she cannot read or write in English.

At Happy Sunshine Breakfast and Lunch, a bright yellow food truck serving burgers and sandwiches across the street, Utdam Thach wasn’t sure what the future held either.

“The city, they don’t care,” he said.

At Pete’s, a handwritten sign taped to the window announced its upcoming closure.