We don’t know what’s up with that name, either. Has the tortilla been “peached”? By whom? How does one go about becoming “peached”? Explanations have been less than convincing; the official line is that it means whatever the speaker wishes it to mean. What the peach, it sounds like fun.

Indeed, fun is the driving force behind this menu, which comprises tacos and sliders done up in an array of flavors that resemble other cuisines. The South is represented, for instance, in a well-seasoned, cornmeal-crusted catfish taco that is absurdly delicious, with bacon-braised mustard greens. Another, with sautéed citrus-scented squash and red peppers feels healthier, yet is totally addictive. The sweet side of the palate is favored here, most noticeably in banh-mi-style fillings; there’s a sweet chargrilled-pork-belly thing happening, but the pickled daikon-carrot slaw isn’t vinegared enough, and there’s virtually no jalapeño heat. Peach barbecue sauce could use a tad more sourness. Fries come skin-on and skinny, which we like, especially with America’s new favorite condiment, Sriracha mayonnaise. There’s also a terrific daily changing lemonade.

We wish the truck would settle down in a trailer park (and keep sensible hours; what’s with the daily fifteen-minute variation?) instead of chasing the drunken herds—its inconsistencies would likely even out if it could just hold the peach still.