On an exceptionally warm Friday afternoon in the Mission District, Lucero Muñoz Arellano begins to set up shop for the night. Pearls of sweat form on the arch of her nose and trickle past a hearty smile as she greets her first customers—lured to the corner of 19th and Mission streets by the aroma of sizzling bacon and grilled onions.

Two 10-foot banners that read “Hotdogs” make her small business hard to miss. Soon enough, the evening crowd will make its way to the intersection where Arellano’s metallic food truck is a certified fixture.

With the hopes of catching partiers after the bars close, Arellano is looking at a 12-hour work day. Four days a week alongside her partner, Adan González Hernández, she feeds the community. They are a supportive team, and they are also a couple.

“I am a business woman; I learned this from my mother,” said Arellano. “My husband is my right hand.”

Arellano’s warm smile and approachable nature draws the clientele—poco a poco, she said, the neighbors began to recognize and appreciate them, and returning customers would spread the word about their bacon-wrapped hot dogs, helping their business stand out from the budding competition along Mission Street.

“The businesses around here tell us that they are glad we are here,” said Hernández. “There aren’t a lot of bad people hanging out on the corners anymore because they see people, light and a lot of foot traffic.”

Together, Arellano and Hernández reminisce about their start in the food truck scene.

“When there was a party in the Castro, we would go to the Castro to sell—a strike at Civic Center, we’d go there,” said Arellano, the memory bringing a smile to her face. “Wherever the event was, we’d go feed the people.”

Arellano’s beginnings as a street vendor five years ago were humble. She didn’t always have the truck that now offers her shade, a refrigerator for food storage and the permits that shield her from the probing eyes of city inspectors.

“At first we would make $30 to $50 a day—I was often scared because we didn’t have anything but the cart that my partner had made,” said Arellano. “We just had a little cart with a small tank of gas and the hot dogs on the grill—we didn’t even have a car to move in.”

The couple made the decision to sell hot dogs on the street after facing initial difficulties finding work following their immigration from Mexico.

“When I began to look for work, I knocked on a lot of doors, left so many applications—but no one would call,” said Arellano. “At the interviews, they would always ask me if I speak English
and can make pupusas; my answer was ‘no.’”

Eventually finding employment as a domestic worker and then as a dishwasher in a restaurant, Arellano felt financially and emotionally unsatisfied. Driven by a deep desire to support her three children in Mexico, the 32-year-old woman began to reach further—instinctively knowing that starting her own business was an opportunity that she could not pass up.

Lucero Muñoz Arellano y su esposo Adán González Hernández, de México, son los orgullosos dueños de un camioncito donde venden salchichas, aparcado en las calles 19 y Misión. Lucero Munoz Arellano and her husband Adan Gonzalez Hernandez, of Mexico, are the proud owners of a traveling hot dog cart seen here last Friday on the corner of 19th and Mission streets. Photo Ryan Leibrich

After all, entrepreneurialism is a trait that she was taught early on.

“When I was only a few months old, my mother was already selling refrescos, tacos and tamales on the streets of Veracruz,” said Arellano. “She would put a cardboard box next to her cart with me in it; I have basically been working since I was born.”

Her mother, said Arellano, was a savvy businesswoman who taught her how to work hard.
“I’ve always expressed what my mother showed me—to be a good street vendor, and to fight for what I want,” she said. “My dream was to have my own business. Even today, I keep growing and learning from her.”

As Arellano revisits her childhood, the most difficult thing, she said, was not having a home to live in. During the toughest times, Arellano and her two siblings would live between a hotel and the streets of Veracruz.

As Arellano grew up, her mother, Marisela, expressed to her the desire to study and to “better herself.”

“I told my mother to take care of my kids and I would go to the U.S.,” said Arellano. “I wanted her to be able to go to school from the money that I send her.”

Marisela has finished her studies and now is a culinary teacher in Veracruz. Arellano proudly displays pictures of her mother dressed in pastry chef’s uniform standing next to her students on her cell phone, and begins to cry.

In the U.S., Arellano has followed in her mother’s footsteps. She recently graduated from a two-year program with a certificate in business, and is determined to expand to owning another truck on 24th Street.

“Nothing is a sacrifice when you want something and you go out and get it,” said Arellano. “If you want something you have to struggle, and you have to invest and reinvest your gain in order to be able to grow.”

“It’s a beautiful feeling when you find people that help you and support you. It’s something incredible and I am very fortunate to have always had that.”

Lulu Orozco and Veronica Henao contributed to this article.