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S ome weeks on the truck feel loud. Orders stack up, the grill never cools, and time blurs into a rhythm of tickets, hands, and heat. Other weeks are quieter, slower, more reflective. Lately, it’s been a little of both. Working the truck has reminded us how much consistency matters. People come back not just for a favorite dish, but for the feeling of knowing what they’re going to get. A solid plate. Food made with care. The same faces behind the window doing their best, even

Ask anyone about Hawaii and they’ll tell you about the beaches, the sunsets, the paradise. For us, Hawaii was different. It was home for...