09/14/2026
12 years ago today, Stephen, his brother Sean, and I packed into a borrowed champagne Honda Civic and headed to Houston. Bang Bang was on every station. We stopped at gas stations for sugar free Red Bulls and sugar filled candy.
It took us five and a half hours to get there. It felt shorter from all the caffeine and adrenaline. We parked at Empire Tools and walked through the graveyard of Hostess trucks parked next door. Hostess had just gone bankrupt so there was a slew of wrapped box vans to choose from: Twinkies, Nature’s Pride, Ding Dongs.
Then there it was, our truck. Wonderbread. An original Cummins disel engine. Stick shift. Ford chassis.
Stephen sat in the drivers seat for the first time while Sean and I stood in the back, gripping the literal ton of steel bread shelves bolted inside. Sean snapped a few quick photos at a red light as we all giggled like kids. It was Stephen’s first time driving a truck that big so every turn had a learning curve attached to it. Sean and I bounced around the back, leaning hard into the bumps and brakes.
The truck was missing side view mirrors and an inner engine cover. The sales man was willing to knock off a few bucks. Stephen might have well as yelled TAKE MY MONEY he was so excited. I suggested we harvest them from other trucks on the lot since it wouldn’t be safe without them. While they quickly spray painted the logo, Stephen grabbed the tools he had packed in the car and Frankensteined together pieces from three truck to build our baby. Hence the name: Frank the Tank.
$4500 later, we drove off the lot. It felt crazy. We suddenly had a truck. We just got to take it home. No special license. No special classes. Just us and a 10,000lb bet on ourselves and the pop-up we had opened a few months before.
The drive back wasn’t so easy. Turns out a 26 year old truck shakes like crazy over 45mph. Stephen plugged his ears with cigarette butts as we navigated the 11 hours of back roads home to New Orleans. Being a Navy family, Sean bought a case of High Life to smash on the side. The champagne of beers christened our new life as Bonafried truck.
Now we serve it in our own restaurant. Crazy.