The first thing you notice about Tommy Boy is that it doesn’t feel like a food truck.
Parked beside the Hudson River at the Stewart House’s River Garden in Athens, the polished trailer dispenses Korean comfort food, yes, but the experience lands somewhere between a picnic, a neighborhood gathering, and a weekend pop-up from a chef who can’t stop tinkering. Families spread out beneath umbrellas. Dogs wander hopefully between tables. Live music drifts across the lawn. A few steps away, boats bob at the dock while the river slides past beneath the shade of weeping willows.
Now in its second season, Tommy Boy has returned to the riverfront in Athens, where it serves Korean comfort food Fridays from 4 to 8pm, Saturdays from 1 to 8pm, and Sundays from 1 to 7pm through the end of September. The operation has become is built around a simple proposition: make everything possible from scratch, use local ingredients whenever available, and introduce Korean flavors to whoever happens to wander up to the window.
That last part has proven especially rewarding.
When Tommy Boy opened last summer, co-owner and chef Jenny Lee wasn’t sure how Athens residents—particularly older locals unfamiliar with Korean cuisine—would respond. The concern proved unfounded. “We had an older gentleman who came up and said he’d never had Korean food or anything of this kind ever in his life,” Lee recalls. “It’s daunting, but it’s really exciting at the same time because I’m happy to be the first one to ever serve them this food.”
After finishing his meal, the customer returned to the window enthusiastic and eager to bring his girlfriend back. Those encounters have become a recurring theme. For Lee and Ballinger, some of the most meaningful compliments come not from seasoned foodies but from diners trying Korean food for the first time. “It’s really special to us,” Ballinger says. “To bring something new to people’s doorstep and have them say, ‘Oh my God, I really like this.'”
The menu remains anchored by the dishes that built Tommy Boy’s following last season: kimbap rolls packed with colorful vegetables and proteins, bibimbap bowls layered with seasonal produce, japchae noodles, and shrimp muchim. But year two has brought a new level of ambition.
Part of that comes from practical lessons learned during the first season. The operation has become more efficient, allowing the pair to serve customers faster. The larger change, however, is creative.
Rather than relying on a mostly static menu, Lee has introduced a rotating slate of weekly specials that allow her to explore ingredients, techniques, and flavors beyond the truck’s core offerings. “We want to keep things exciting,” she says. “This is kind of our way of showing that our abilities are further than this.”
Recent specials have included a smoked Hudson Valley steelhead roll with ramp pesto, a ramp pancake inspired by Chinese scallion pancakes, strawberry roll cake made with Story Farms berries, and sago desserts drawing from Southeast Asian traditions. Upcoming offerings include Japanese-style egg sandos built on house-made milk bread and additional seasonal desserts tied closely to the harvest.
The milk bread itself exemplifies Tommy Boy’s approach. Lee bakes it in-house using a Japanese-style square loaf pan, creating a pillowy, cloud-soft bread that serves as the foundation for sandwiches that feel both familiar and slightly novel. The sandos reflect the philosophy behind many of Tommy Boy’s specials: Korean at heart, but willing to wander across Asia’s culinary map when curiosity leads the way. “Making everything from scratch as much as possible using local fresh ingredients—that’s really what we want to offer,” Lee says.
The commitment extends well beyond bread. Dough for pancakes, desserts, sauces, pickles, and fillings are made in-house. Produce arrives from nearby farms whenever possible. The menu shifts according to what growers have available, sometimes forcing last-minute adjustments when weather or harvest conditions change.
That flexibility is one reason Tommy Boy remains a seasonal operation. Asked whether a brick-and-mortar restaurant might be in the future, both owners express curiosity—but also caution. The food truck’s small scale allows them to spend money on ingredients rather than overhead. Expansion would bring opportunities, but also compromises. “I really do like what we’re doing right now,” Ballinger says. “This high-quality approach where everything that goes out is handmade by Jenny.”
For the moment, they’re content with a model built around limited supply, close attention to detail, and direct interaction with customers. There are discussions about catering and private events. There are ideas waiting in the wings. But there is no rush.
That restraint feels increasingly rare in a food culture obsessed with scaling up. Tommy Boy’s appeal comes partly from the fact that it remains small enough for Lee to hand-roll the kimbap, bake the bread, and obsess over the details. The operation’s limitations are also its strengths.
That’s probably for the best. Like roadside sweet corn stands or seasonal ice cream shacks, Tommy Boy arrives with the warm weather and disappears when the leaves begin to turn. It’s one of those summer-only experiences that feels inseparable from its setting—a small but memorable part of a day spent along the river.
