NORTH ADAMS — In August of 2020, a silver 1983 Grumman Stepvan pulled into the MASS MoCA courtyard. Inside, husband and wife team Justin and Mariah Forstmann were excited to start their new, very compact restaurant journey together. Starting a business during the pandemic wasn’t everyone’s first idea, but for these two, it was the only thing on their minds. “We relocated here at the beginning of the pandemic because we lost our jobs. We were both working at restaurants in Oregon; I was at a Mexican place, and Mariah was at a couple of French restaurants,” Justin explains. “We had all these dreams, and things we wanted to do, and decided to just do them,” Mariah continues. “So we took a loan out from Justin’s dad and used all of our savings to buy the truck, and named it Chingón, which means ‘badass’.”
With the wheels in motion, the next step was deciding on a location. Originally from Connecticut, the two lived in Portland, Oregon, for eight years before deciding to settle down in the Berkshires to be closer to family. “We used to come every summer,” Justin says, laughing. “Our idea was to come for a couple weeks, but we kept staying longer once we realized how important family was to us, how we had missed everybody, and how we wanted to start setting down roots here.”
“We bought the truck on Long Island,” explains Maria, “and Justin’s dad knew someone on the board at MASS MoCA who connected us with the brewery here. When Massachusetts passed a law that required you to serve food with beer, the owner of the brewery called us. The truck wasn’t ready yet, but essentially he said, ‘how does tomorrow sound?’” They both laugh as they reminisce. “We had told everybody that we were going to do this thing, and when this opportunity came up it was like, now’s the time. Ready or not, we’re doing it.
“So we drove the truck up, left it at MASS MoCA and commuted from Connecticut for the first three weeks.” Despite the unexpected starting date, challenges in the kitchen and the long hours, the couple agree their first days serving out of the truck were a success. “It was all really serendipitous how we got up here,” Justin says, “but it’s been the greatest thing ever. We were prepping at home because the truck wasn’t ready yet. We were working from the minute we got up in the morning until after ten at night. It was this adrenaline rush we were in, and it’s insane to think about now. But we did it. And people really liked our food.”
Luckily, a food truck could easily operate within COVID regulations. “The business model itself is perfect for the pandemic protocol. To-go only, no close-proximity places to sit or large congregations of people. The courtyard was nice for folks who wanted to sit outside and enjoy their food immediately, and the truck allowed you to get your food and go,” Mariah explains. “And because the brewery was the only place in town to get a good beer, we were really well positioned.”
Their work in Portland inspired them to take the truck on a Mexican route. Justin explains, “I was working on a taco cart. And when I mean a cart, it was very simply two grills with a steam table in the middle. The guy who owned it was the head chef of a successful Mexican restaurant, a number one spot in Portland since it opened twenty years ago. I started working for him making tacos and found a huge love for that style of rapid cooking.”
One night when the restaurant kitchen was short-staffed, Justin was asked to leave his usual cart position to work the line. “After a crash course, I started working the line full time and eventually became the head chef. My staff inspired me. Only one of them spoke English; they mostly spoke their native dialects. I would make dishes for them, and they would really enjoy my cooking, and that boosted my confidence, made me think I could do this for real. Then, their wives or mothers would give me recipes—I felt it was a badge of honor, a little welcome into their culinary world. Here I pay homage to them. My food is never going to be authentic because I’m the one making it, but it’s going to be the closest thing I can do, and to me that’s what matters.”
The truck stayed open for its initial season from August to December of 2020, until the weather stopped them. “We ended up having to thaw out food with heat guns and hair dryers,” they laugh. “And the customers don’t really want to hang in the courtyard when it’s that cold.” They have spent the winter renovating the truck’s interior, installing new equipment sourced locally from a restaurant store in the Hudson Valley, and adding new water systems. Now that the kitchen is in top shape, the truck itself needs a little TLC and is scheduled for an engine replacement and a complete rewiring of the inside mechanicals in time for the 2022 season. “The truck is still kind of a work in progress,” Justin says. “I almost love that the truck’s exterior is kind of rough and rugged, and the food coming out of it is so good. But right now… none of the gauges or dials work. It barely drives.” Maria adds, “It’s a shell, a restaurant that can move. Right now, thank goodness we only have to move it twice a year. We also just bought a little mini truck to use for catering events, like weddings.”
Operating out of a small space can be stressful. “We set up like a linear brigade. We work each dish down the line until eventually it’s at the window. Tortillas, meats, filling, topping, then to the guest.” Mariah continues, “If I need to get around him to get something and he’s on the grill, well let’s just say it’s a good thing we’re married.” Being tall also poses some difficulty.
Another challenge initially was finding the most suitable way to call customer names, solved by the acquisition of a buzzer system. “We would be walking around the courtyard yelling people’s names and no one would be listening. It got to the point where a customer actually bought us a megaphone to use, and we did,” they laugh. “Thankfully, the new pager system ensures a flawless taco delivery every time.”
It is Chingón’s culinary mission to connect with the land and food culture of the Berkshires. “We aim to serve quality food made with quality local ingredients at a relatively affordable price. We work closely with Tu at 328 North Farm. In fact, we will have some plots on his land this year for growing things like tomatillos. He is amazing,” Mariah says. “I was over there a lot this summer picking fresh squash blossoms for our quesadillas at eight in the morning! It was awesome.” This direct connection to the grower enables them to develop creative recipes with new kinds of food products. “We would order some things from Tu’s farm, but he would sometimes give us things we’d never tried before and that helps us develop new dishes,” Justin explains. “One time we were getting giant ten-pound flats of heirloom tomatoes from Full Well Farm. We added some Thai basil from Tu’s farm, and all of a sudden we’ve got this dish made completely with ingredients from within ten miles of the truck. It’s another thing people don’t expect out of a food truck, the hyper-local sourcing. We can also offer more gluten-free and vegetarian dishes, because we have the flexibility to rotate our vegetable options.”
The cost of food and vegetables are Chingón’s main expense. They keep costs down by making their own tortillas, or buying whole sections of animal to break down themselves. They aim for zero waste. “When you’re trimming off a nice piece and you’re making it beautiful, there’s all this other stuff that comes off, too. Just throw it in the pot and braise it down. It becomes this amazing, shredded and braised beef that goes into a fan favorite called quesabirria.”
More than anything else, the Forstmanns value the relationships they’ve made through local collaborations. “When we started here, we didn’t know many people. These farmers and food suppliers have became our best friends because we’ve been seeing them every week. It’s special,” Mariah says. “For me, it was especially important to get to know these people, to understand why and how they do what they do.” Justin states, “In Portland, the head-to-head competition made it hard to develop personal relationships. Here people are just like, ‘you cook?! That’s awesome.’”
AOK Barbeque is close by Chingón’s spot on the MASS MoCA campus. This gives museum visitors or customers multiple options. “It’s perfect, the way the foot traffic is funneled in. Early ticket holders come to the campus, they see us prepping, they smell the food, and they make a note that when lunch comes around, we’re there,” Mariah says. “If they want tacos and their friends want barbeque, those options are available within walking distance of each other. It really works out.”
The owners of the two businesses have become incredibly close friends. “We offer such different foods, it’s not a competition. When we first met Aaron from AOK, he said to me, ‘a rising tide raises all ships. When we all do good, we all do good together.’ We all value collaboration over competition,” Justin says. “How can we help each other?” On Tuesdays when they’re closed, the barbeque offers Chingón space in their kitchen to prep, and also some additional storage to make things easier during the dinner rush. “The first year, we kept selling out in our truck because we only had two refrigerators. Now they let us use a little bit of their walk-in space, so we can run over mid-shift and grab what we need, instead of having to close or take something off the menu.”
Even when the truck is parked in the family’s driveway, the Forstmanns are still serving up a storm. They collaborate with other local restaurants such as the Airport Rooms at TOURISTS, or with Breakroom; they set up at Greylock Works’s FESTIVE event, creating unique and inspired menus without their truck. “With places like the Airport Rooms, we get to work directly with their bar and their men…. a play on this cocktail, a complement to this dish, whatever,” Justin explains. “The truck limits us to making tacos, but elsewhere we can do different things, more complex dishes. And guests of the hotel come to know us. We got two wedding catering gigs that way.” Chingón will be back at TOURISTS this February 21-23 “We feel at home there because their kitchen is essentially a trailer, pretty much what we’re used to.”
As the truck expands its way into kitchens across the county, the possibilities for growth begin to really surface. “What’s our next iteration? Is it a brick and mortar? Is it a second truck? We don’t know right now,” Justin says. The two are exploring the idea of sticking to museum parking lots, catering to a unique crowd of residents and visitors each time they relocate.
But for now, Chingón will stay at home this coming season in the MASS MoCA courtyard. Some nice surprises come with that location, says Justin. “Some of our customers have connections with Sprague Electric which owned the buildings that became MASS MoCA, and they haven’t been back to that campus since Sprague closed. Now they’re coming to get tacos, and beer. They would have never come there otherwise,” Mariah says. “We love that our food helps bridge that gap. We ask ourselves, how do we get more involvement in the community? These are our neighbors, the people we are going to know and see every day.”
“That’s my favorite thing,” Justin says, “the customer interaction. I’m an extrovert. I like the performance aspect of it. I like that people, even if they aren’t necessarily eating, are walking by, and they see us listening to music and having fun. At the end of the day, money will always fluctuate, but as long as we’re still having fun doing this, it’s successful. If at any point we hate what we’re doing, it’s time to close, it’s not a success anymore.” Mariah agrees; “There’s an adrenaline rush when you look out the window fifteen minutes before opening, and there’s already a line. Then three hours go by in the blink of an eye; it’s that quick. And I’m covered in guacamole, but everything is fine.”
