We are, in essence, creatures of habit. Fortunately for my taste buds — but unfortunately for my arteries — my habits consist almost entirely of Chinese food.
Or at least that’s what it was like throughout first year. Every Thursday following PHL100, like Cantonese clockwork, I’d bolt out of the Isabel Bader Theatre, put myself in immediate danger by playing a real-life version of Frogger across Queen’s Park Crescent, stroll along a bustling Hoskin Avenue, and arrive salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs at Wokking on Wheels. Once there, I’d immediately surrender myself to my salvation: beef chow mein.
Beef chow mein, every Thursday. For eight months.
Situated on the west side of St. George, right outside Robarts Library, Wokking on Wheels (or, as it is known to campus insiders, “the red food truck”) is not only a splash of colour against a rather grotesque, monochromatic backdrop, but also a hub of affordable-yet-flavourful food, with a wide array of savoury menu options.
For over two decades, Wokking on Wheels has parked in the very same spot, acquiring faithful student patrons by virtue of its tasty meals and incomparable customer service. The latter is so exceptional that, for example, after a few visits the owner had memorized both my name and my unchanging order. But it was only recently that I realized that I did not know the name of the red truck’s proprietor and chief operator. He was a man of mystery.
I recently sat down with this enigmatic figure, prying him out of his mighty red fortress of cooking oil and hot sauce and convincing him to shoot the idiomatic breeze with a loyal customer.
His name is Adam Sit, and after 20 minutes of conversation (which took place, coincidentally enough, on a Thursday afternoon) I knew much, much more. What I discovered, over the course of our casual chat on a stone bench in front of his truck, within tempting nose-shot of wafting greasy goodness, made both Adam and Wokking on Wheels all the more special — all the more integral to the St. George Campus.
Since its inception some 22 years ago, Wokking on Wheels has gone through an ever-changing cast of managers, while managing (pun intended) to keep the mobile kitchen within the family. Though he only took up the managerial mantle in July 2012, Adam has worked at the truck on an on-and-off basis throughout its twenty-odd years of operation, having worked with his uncles when they were overseeing its operations. It is this long-time familiarity with Wokking on Wheels’ functionality that has allowed Adam to “keep the [family] legacy going.” The legacy is striking; a look at the combined cooking history of the truck’s chefs reveals a whopping 70 years of culinary experience. Not bad for a restaurant that gets five miles to the gallon.
Despite its current status as a U of T staple, Wokking on Wheels as we know it has its roots in another university, right in the heart of downtown Toronto: Ryerson’s Ted Rogers School of Management. Although he wouldn’t reveal exactly when he studied at Ryerson (for fear of, I assume, his true age being disclosed to the public), Adam did share that he graduated from Ryerson’s Retail Management program, studying with business professionals and learning the tricks of the trade.
Following graduation, Adam worked as a manager of a big-box retailer, learning logistics and versing himself in inventory movement. But what drove him (pun intended, once again) to Wokking on Wheels.
“It’s different,” he said, laughing all the while. “What it comes down to is, it depends on the person. I’m very…I’d say I’m a little crazy, because eventually you have to put a lot of time and effort into it. So I’m like ‘I’ll give this a shot.’ First year I was like ‘Woah man, this is so much work!’”
So much work indeed. Not unlike a student at U of T — whose education is a 24/7 undertaking of attending lectures and tutorials, keeping up with readings, commuting, and getting inebriated — Wokking on Wheels is, similarly, a seven-day operation.
“A typical day is, you wake up at 7, you get everything loaded into the vehicle to bring to the truck, you load up the whole truck, then you drive the truck to the spot — so roughly you should get everything there for 9:30 — get ready to start serving at 11, you work, work, work, work, work until about 9:30. Shut down at 9:30 and then you do a full clean — because it is a kitchen after all — which we usually finish at about 10:30 or 11.”
At this point, Adam inhaled a comically large gulp of air, and kept going.
“After that,” he said, “you get back home, then you go back to the place of the preparation, so the actual brick-and-mortar restaurant part of it. Get there by 12, get everything ready for the day, and leave at about 1 or 2. Go home, shower, eat dinner, go to sleep, then wake up at 7. Same is for Saturday and Sunday, too, which are essentially prep and work days.”
With perpetual 20-hour days and no yacht or house on the hills to show for it, one can’t help but wonder how Adam stays motivated.
“You get to have fun to a certain extent,” he continued. “What that means is, you know, you get stuck in the truck, or you’re standing in the spot, but you try to joke around with customers — you get a feel for who they are, because you don’t want them just to be known as Customer A, B, and C. I try to get to know the customer’s name, what they study, how many family members they have, stuff like that.
“I’ve also made quite a bit of friends too; we hang out, go play cards, have dinner. Because everyone just wants to hang out and just be friends. And that’s the coolest part of being at this truck.”
In his quest for amusement within the confines of the truck, Adam has turned the business into a blueprint for quality customer service and resounding courtesy. Courtesy that, combined with the food, has yielded an eclectic yet memorable clientele and lasting customer relations.
“The head coach of the Varsity Blues eats off my truck. I have some other local celebrities too, like some city staff. They’re not super big celebrities with paparazzi following them around, but if you’ve lived in the city long enough you know who they are.
“I’ve had a family of three, all three have come to U of T as international students, and all three — they all finish then the next one comes up — have come and eaten at this truck and stayed at this truck. That’s pretty cool… ‘My brother said I can’t eat at any truck but this truck.’ ‘But who’s your brother? Oh, that guy?’ I’ve also had people who drive from Windsor and Niagara Falls because they’ve gone to U of T to come here at this truck.”
Nevertheless, for Adam, the atmosphere is a secondary consideration — what it all comes down to is the food, and the joy it brings to those who frequent his truck. “A lot of people tend to skip the TLC and go straight into buying prep food, or overcompensate by overwhelming it with certain flavours and spices. You don’t do that in real cooking. Anyone that knows real cooking says you’re supposed to bring the natural flavours out of the food and start from scratch. And that’s what we do — we start from scratch.”
“When I see people are happy and that they enjoy the food that they eat, and you’ve made their day, that’s all that matters,” he said, keeping a keen eye on his truck from across the way. “You get some complaints, but if I can please maybe 99 per cent of the people who eat here, then I’m more than happy.”
Despite the truck’s immense success, the future — tragically for us wok enthusiasts — isn’t all food trucks and peacock-shaped libraries. Once his time at the truck has reached its end,Adam will ideally return to his second love: managing a big-box retail store.
His efforts at the little red food truck that could have also given him experience in “learning the management business from the bottom-up,” acquiring skills and building blocks that could ultimately be transferred to other business ventures.
In the meantime, Adam will be at his truck, doing a combination of what he loves most: making food, making people happy, and operating the business, shepherding it towards further excellence. “Solving problems, improving upon what’s here, and hoping the food sells,” he noted. “That’s my passion.”
Our chat now finished, it was back to business for Adam. He climbed into his truck, and as I had done every Thursday, I ordered myself some beef chow mein.
