Lines for the food trucks extended down the street and around corners.
(Caroline Helper)

You know how, when you go to Magic Mountain in the middle of summertime, you'll see crazy-long lines for rides that have a wait time of more than two hours? It always seems a little ridiculous, to me, that people would be willing to wait hours for a thrill that lasts more or less three minutes.

Standing in line waiting for smoked-brisket tacos, buttermilk fried chicken, and red velvet chocolate chip pancake bites Tuesday night at the Street Feast at The Americana at Brand in Glendale, I felt very much like the people who wait in those crazy lines at Magic Mountain.

Granted, I was waiting for sustenance rather than an adrenaline rush - but at the end of the day, in both situations, two-hours are given up for a three-minute thrill. Whether it's sinking your teeth into crunchy fried batter over slick juicy chicken or being hurled through the air at ungodly speeds on a roller coaster, the satisfaction is immediate and, just as often, so is the regret.

The event featured food trucks Mandoline Grill, the Dim Sum Truck, The Buttermilk Truck, CoolHaus, and the superstar of the evening, The Grilled Cheese Truck among others. Besides the food trucks there was a DJ playing music all night, an eclectic crowd, and, of course, lines of epic proportions that stretched around the corner and down the block.

Oh sure, the lines were to be expected; the first street feast a few weeks ago had the city's food blogosphere up in arms. So I knew what I was in for, to an extent. And to be honest, the lines and the crush of food fans was part of the whole experience; to see hundreds of people queued up for an aluminum-foil wrapped grilled cheese or a pile of fries drizzled with truffle oil, cheese, and a mountain of toppings was as frightening as it was fascinating and exciting.

The mix of people was even more interesting: from families with babies to harajuku girls with bright pink hair to groups of food-minded friends of all ages, shapes and colors, and from all over the city. There were high-heeled fashionistas toting designer handbags in line next to kids in college sweaters and middle-aged couples.

Everyone was taking pictures - of each other, of the food, and, of course, of the lines. When the Grilled Cheese Truck pulled up a half-hour late, word spread so quickly that within 10 minutes there was a line at least 200 people deep.

The food truck phenomenon that has swept the city, starting with Kogi, and spawning a host of other's serving up everything from ice cream sandwiches to North Indian street food, is one that is unique to Los Angeles. The crush of the thousands of Angelenos who attended the event also speaks to a unique feature of the city's inhabitants: an unwavering support for the "next big thing".

So is the food worth the hype? Probably not. The smoked-brisket tacos from the Willoughby Road truck were a little tough, although the four-cheese macaroni was sinful (but how hard is it, really to screw up melted cheese, butter, and noodles?). But that's not the point. The point is how interesting and creative the food coming from the trucks is - not just in terms of flavors and techniques but because of the sheer fact that its coming out of a kitchen smaller than most dining room tables. How the trucks were even able to store enough ingredients to feed as many people as they did Tuesday night makes me think of certain biblical tales involving miraculous events.

Would I go to the next street feast? Sure I would, but I'd get there early, pick my truck and hope for the best. Then I'd spend the rest of the night just observing the crowds that gathered because they, not the food, were the most interesting part of Tuesday night's street feast.