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West Valley City Journal

From $300 dreams to $1,000 realities—barbecue ain’t for the faint of heartburn

Aug 06, 2025 03:41PM ● By Shaun Delliskave

Kenneth Hunt stands between his barbecue smokers and equally large Texas flag. (Shaun Delliskave/City Journals)

When Kenneth Hunt rolled into Utah in the summer of 2019, he brought with him a weathered smoker, years of culinary experience and an unwavering Texas pride. Now, six years later, he’s the owner and sole operator of Hunt’s Texas BBQ, a mobile barbecue operation serving slow-cooked brisket and pulled pork to hungry customers across the Salt Lake Valley. But behind the smell of mesquite smoke and the sizzle of meat is a one-man production fueled by grit, consistency and a love for the craft.

“My wife and two kids moved down here from Houston in June of 2019,” Hunt recalled. “After living in the Houston area for 40-plus years, I’ve had my fair share of hurricanes and storms and whatnot…we were just at the point to where we were tired of redoing a house and dealing with floods and everything that came along bad—the chemical plants and everything like that.”

Utah, with its mountain views and considerably less humidity, offered a fresh start.

“I’ve always enjoyed barbecuing for friends and family and coworkers and stuff like that, so I figured I’d take a shot. We bought this trailer, added some pits, and that was 6 years ago. Been going strong since then,” he said.

But “going strong” doesn’t mean it’s easy. Hunt runs the truck solo, managing the entire operation from purchasing to prep to service. His wife, a schoolteacher, is busy during the academic year, leaving Hunt to wear every hat in the business.

“I pretty much do all my shopping and scheduling and whatnot,” he said. “So it gets a little hectic and crazy trying to juggle every hat to wear and still put out some great Texas barbecue.”

The day often begins before sunrise. The raspy voiced entrepreneur still maintains his friendly Texas drawl.

“I start cooking about six in the morning. And of course, these briskets—shoot—they go 10 to 12 hours at least, so nothing’s really served day-of. I’m smoking briskets constantly and pork butts. But with barbecue, there is no exact time. When they’re done, they let you know they’re done.”

That intuition—listening to the meat—comes from experience, not a recipe book. Once cooked, meats are wrapped and refrigerated until serving.

Unlike a brick-and-mortar restaurant, a food truck requires strategy: site scouting, setup and building a customer base from scratch. Hunt wasn’t sure if Utah was going to be a permanent home, so the trailer offered flexibility. 

Kenneth Hunt goes over the menu with a customer. (Shaun Delliskave/City Journals)

"With the price of real estate for a storefront, you gotta put a big investment into that and really, really, really want to stay here and put down roots. With that being said, it’s a lot easier to chase the money, per se, with the food truck,” he said.

His livelihood was temporarily derailed as vandals hit his trailer one night. It took several days to get it in operating order.

And chasing the money means learning the terrain. Not every event is a winner.

“I remember my first year or so—if I could go out anywhere and make $300, I thought I was doing something really good,” Hunt said. “Now, six years later, those times have changed drastically.”

He’s learned which locations and partnerships are profitable, and which aren’t. For example, events with the local Food Truck League can be a double-edged sword.

“They’re great for starting out and stuff like that, but they do charge us food trucks 10%,” Hunt explained. “So always having to pay somebody money to do your own stuff is not really the best choice. You go out with 10 different trucks and some days it’s hard to make $1,000—you might only do $300 or $400. And for me, that’s not really sustainable.”

There’s also the logistical gamble of having too much food left over—a cardinal sin in Hunt’s book.

If he does bring anything back, it usually doesn’t excite his family. “After six years, my family really doesn’t care to dine on barbecue for dinner any longer.”

When the weather cooperates, business is better. “The rain is the only thing that'll stop me from serving. Nobody really wants to come out in the rain,” he said. “The snow—there’s no real problem here in Utah with the snow. People are used to it.”

Kenneth Hunt checks on his smokers before serving some fresh brisket. (Shaun Delliskave/City Journals)

Running the truck isn’t just about cooking—it’s also about customer service. And sometimes, that requires quick triage.

“There’s some people that want to be catered to when they come to you,” Hunt said. “And if there’s 20 people in line, you don’t always have that extra four minutes to sit and chat. Some people might get upset that I have to rush you through the line, but if it’s snowing outside, nobody really wants to wait 40 minutes to get their plate.”

Still, he makes time when he can. “If you still want to chat when I’m done, more than happy to come outside the trailer and talk to you.”

Some days, he runs the truck five or six days a week. Other weeks, only twice. That’s the balance he tries to strike between work and life. Even after six years, the flame hasn’t gone out.

“My wife is a teacher and she’s off for summer, so there are times that I want to spend a couple days with her. We’ll take a vacation. I might cancel some events just so I can spend more time. Because it’s not always just about work.”

“I still enjoy doing it,” he said. “I don’t know what else I’d do right now. After six years of doing this—I still love it.”

You can find Hunt’s Texas BBQ trailer next location on Facebook or Instagram (@Huntstexasbbq).