I found the Cibo Matto food truck parked by a small brewery lot on a sunny Saturday. Red truck, chalkboard menu, and the smell of garlic and butter floating in the air. You know what? I was hungry before I even saw the line. If you’re curious how the whole snack parade unfolded in real time, you can read the complete play-by-play in my snack-heavy day at the Cibo Matto food truck.
For a full rundown of the truck’s weekly specials and location updates, check out Yeah, Basically Cibo Matto.
The vibe: loud, friendly, a little wild
The line was 12 deep when I got there at 12:40 pm. A little kid kept chanting “meatball! meatball!” which made me grin. Music was soft—some old soul tune—and the crew moved fast. I watched a cook press a sandwich on a flat-top until the bread clicked, then toss fries with cheese in a big metal bowl. It looked like a tiny storm of steam and salt. The energy reminded me of the buzz inside their brick-and-mortar spot during dinner—I captured that pasta-fueled chaos one night.
That playful, slightly mischievous energy had people laughing with strangers in line, and it made me think about how sharing good food can open the door to all kinds of fun conversations. If you're craving that same spark outside the lunch queue, you might enjoy exploring this live chat space for confident, flirty MILFs where you can jump into instant conversations with mature women who know how to keep things interesting long after the last fry is gone.
Ticket time for me was about 18 minutes. Not bad for lunch rush. The POS glitched on my tap, then my chip worked. No big deal, but I did that awkward card shuffle at the window.
What I ordered (and what actually landed)
- Porchetta sandwich with salsa verde on toasted ciabatta (craving a DIY version? check out this comprehensive porchetta sandwich recipe for step-by-step guidance)
- Arancini (three rice balls, fontina in the middle), with marinara
- Truffle-parm fries with garlic aioli
- Basil lemonade
I almost got the caprese skewer too, but my eyes were bigger than my stomach. Classic me.
The porchetta: big flavor, big mess
First bite, and I had herb oil on my wrist. The pork was juicy, with little fennel pops and tiny crisp bits. The ciabatta had a crackly top and a soft center, so it held up to the drips. The salsa verde tasted bright—parsley, lemon, a hint of garlic. I added a pinch of salt, then it sang. Honest take: this is the star. Warm, rich, and sharp at the same time. If you’re curious how chefs build layers of flavor into porchetta, this in-depth porchetta sandwich recipe from Saveur breaks down the process in smart, home-cook steps. I ate half standing up because I couldn’t wait.
Arancini: gooey joy, but a touch salty
The arancini came hot. The shell was golden and thin, which I love, and the inside was cheesy and loose, not gummy. The marinara was bright and simple. I did wish for one less shake of salt. Still, I’d get them again. They hit that cozy, rainy-day note—even though it was sunny.
Fries: tasty, but fragile
They smelled amazing. Parmesan snow. Truffle whiff. I grabbed one right away—perfect. Five minutes later, after I found a seat, they went soft at the bottom. That’s the risk with loaded fries in a paper boat. The garlic aioli was smooth and mild, which helped. If you’re picky about crunch, eat them fast or share.
Basil lemonade: sweet, then fresh
Cold, with basil bits that stuck to the ice. First sip was sweet for me. I squeezed the tiny lemon wedge they gave me, and it balanced out. Next time, I’ll ask for less syrup. Or a second lemon wedge. Small thing, easy fix.
Service and small touches
The runner called “Kaylee!” (close enough), smiled, and tucked extra napkins into my bag without me asking. They had compostable forks and lids, which I always notice. The cook offered a splash more salsa verde when he saw me peeking back at the window. That felt kind.
Prices and portion notes
My total was $13 for the sandwich, $9 for arancini, $7 for fries, $4 for lemonade, plus a tip. Portions were fair. The sandwich is a full meal on its own. Arancini is good for sharing. Fries are shareable if you want to keep them crisp.
Tiny gripes, because I care
- Salt runs high on the fries and arancini.
- The fry boat steams fast, so the bottom layer softens.
- The POS tap failed once. Chip saved the day.
Dessert lovers, by the way, shouldn’t miss the bakery’s over-the-top birthday cake that basically took over my kitchen—here’s that wild sugar trip.
Real-life examples that stuck with me
- My friend Maya stole a bite of the porchetta and said, “Oh, that’s a problem,” then ordered her own. That never happens with her.
- I needed three napkins for the sandwich. Three. I count when it’s messy.
- A small fennel seed got stuck in my tooth. I laughed and kept eating. Worth it.
Quick tips if you go
- Ask for extra salsa verde on the side. It brightens the pork and fries.
- Eat fries first, then the arancini. They hold heat better.
- If sweet drinks aren’t your thing, ask for half-sweet lemonade.
- Get there before 12:30 or after 1:15 to cut the wait.
Once all that savory indulgence settles and you start hunting for a more laid-back way to treat yourself, a good massage can feel like the perfect follow-up to a food-coma afternoon. For a reliable roundup of local spots—complete with candid user feedback and easy-to-read maps—check out Rubmaps Prosper. The guide helps you quickly identify reputable massage parlors so you can slide from sandwich bliss to stress-free relaxation without any guesswork.
The verdict
Cibo Matto feels warm and bold and a little chaotic, in a good way. The porchetta is a must. Arancini is cozy, just salty. Fries are tasty but time-sensitive. Staff is kind. Prices match the quality. Would I come back? Yes. I’m already planning a second round—with a second lemon wedge and a stack of napkins ready.
4.3 out of 5, and that sandwich is the reason.