Back in high school, just down the block from North City High, there was a little food truck that parked outside every winter.
It was run by an older man who barely said a word, but always remembered your face.
He served roasted sweet potato wedges—simple, warm, and wrapped in parchment paper that always steamed up in your hands.
Maria had only stopped once on a cold afternoon, mostly out of curiosity. But one bite in, and she was hooked.
It became her little after-school ritual—swing by the truck, grab a warm cup of sweet potatoes, and let the cold ease out of her fingers as she walked home.
Years later, she still thought about them. She’d tried sweet potato fries at trendy restaurants, baked her own at home, even found a version at Whole Foods once—but none of them ever
