Food Truck Tuesdays in Santa Monica

Gourmet food trucks of all kinds park in the lot of The Victorian on Main Street in Santa Monica. I was looking forward to trying out some of the delicious food from the trucks tonight, so I arrived hungry. Yes, I was very hungry--- having only eaten a bowl of cherries throughout the day, along with an entire large bottle of Fiji water.

When we arrived, we scoured the lot to explore our choices. I knew I was going to go for the Dosa Truck, but gave the lot a good circle around to see what other trucks were there. But I already knew from first sight: it was the Dosa Truck. I chose the "Slumdog" dosa-- Indian "pesto" rubbed inside the dosa with cheese, fresh spinach, and masala dosa potatoes. I also ordered the "masala fries" which they mixed both regular and sweet potato fries for me, and topped it with a spicy salt and both coconut and tomato chutney.

These fries were heavenly. Spiced with Indian heat and seasoned with garam masala salt, the fluffy coconut chutney seductively flecked with spices, and the tomato chutney sultry with earthy South Indian flavor. I just could not wait to eat my dosa. It was wrapped in yellow paper, the crepe of the dosa peeking out. Wondering what marvelous magical garam masala of turmeric, coriander, cardamom, and fenugreek, saffron and cayenne pepper was swaddled in that glorious dosa, I supplemented my gourmand longing with the masala fries.

Then I picked up an order of regular fries from the MeetnPotatoes Truck for my three-year-old daughter. They were the thickly sliced kind with potato skins on them. As I carried my Nikon camera (for these sexy photos of genuine food porn), my handbag (gigantic-- I carry too much with me at all times), and two plates full of hot gourmet food truck delicacies, I also pushed my daughter in her stroller, while she munched away on her amazingly scrumptious fries. The fries, however, were precariously placed in her stroller's tray, which barely did the job of holding them. Not wanting to make her sad, I had the motherly wisdom to save the potential dumpage of the fries by carrying them to a safe haven (my already full hands), but she shrieked when I removed them from her tray. A girl knows what's good. I gave them back to quickly calm her french fry panic. I then pushed her, slowly, inch by inch, all the way to The Victorian's patio. The mission was to find a seat, to save her fries from toppling, and finally, to have a place to eat my dosa. (I must admit, I ate a few of my daughter's fries. Just for comparison to the masala fries).

This food truck madness and french fry mania was all happening while my (dear) husband was standing in line at George's Greek Truck.

There was a fairly large crowd of people, parents with children (like me) and groups of friends, people on dates. Wine glasses and paper trays of food filled the tables. We finally found an open table. The patio was romantic, lit up by sparkly strands of white Christmas lights strung throughout the branches of the trees. I went into the bar and ordered a glass of wine to go with my dosa. It was a Napa wine, Honeyblend, I think it was, for $10. The "Happy Hour" offerings for the food truck diners was tempting for the price, at $5 for a glass of "house wine" but I've learned my lessons in life to know that I don't tolerate "house" wines of any kind. Cheap as they may be, I'd be paying for it later in headaches, night sweats, and general malaise. So I'd rather it come from my wallet.

I sauntered back to my table, with my big goblet of wine, and two glasses of water (for my little one and husband). I wished my other two children were with me, while I watched my daughter play with a little girl about six years old (my other daughter is six). But my son was at his baseball practice and my other daughter was spending time with her dad. So we had our littlest one eating from the food trucks. You must start gourmets off early.

The dosa was outstanding. Melted in my mouth. Potatoes were fluffy and fragrant with curry. The spinach was fresh, and the flavor altogether was sublime. I did swipe a few of my masala fries into the aioli. The masala fries were quite something. Mixed sweet potato fries with regular fries, seasoned in spicy salt and topped with the coconut and tomato chutney, they didn't really need aioli, but it was delicious.

My husband ordered gyros from George's Greek Truck. He brought me some freshly stuffed dolmas, and it was shocking how buttery the leaves were, and the rice inside was still warm. "They just made them," my husband explained. He was feeding our girl little bites of meat from his bowl of gyro. The Greek rice was 'too exotic' for our daughter, as her palate is geared toward Japanese food. But she is willing to give things a try. But do not ask her to give up the french fries.

My husband ordered the "gyro combo" a combination of beef and lamb with spices cooked on a spit, sliced and served on a bed of pita bread with tzatziki, salad, and rice. He also got the veggie dolmathes (dolmas)-- grape leaves stuffed with rice, tomato, and spices.

After we ate up everything, we headed over to the Cool Haus Truck for the best ice cream sandwiches I have ever had. The line was long, but worth the wait.

The sign explains how you can order your custom ice cream sandwich:

Step one: choose your cookie. Choices like chocolate, snickerdoodle, oatmeal, maple waffle & white chocolate cookie.

Step two: choose your ice cream. Choices like caramel, dirty mint, bananas foster, red velvet, thai iced tea, balsamic fig & mascarpone ice cream.

You can choose a "one story" sandwich (which is definitely enough) or a "two story" sandwich.

We ordered a "one story" sandwich each--- I ordered an oatmeal cockie with balsamic fig & mascarpone ice cream. My husband was disappointed that I gave his maple waffle & white chocolate cookie with dirty mint ice cream to our daughter, so I traded her mine for his.

My husband gave me generous tastes of the dirty mint ice cream--- a mint ice cream that tasted like real mint leaves. The more I recall the flavor, it tasted like mint leaves drenched in ice water. The flavor was like no other ice cream I have ever had. When I got a hold of my oatmeal cookie sandwich with the voluptuous balsamic fig & mascarpone ice cream, it was diffcult to decide which one I liked more. I shared the last ice cream sandwich with my daughter. Well, actually, there is a small portion of it hiding in my freezer. Shh.