Yesterday was food truck Sunday in Echo Park. On my way to the Hollywood Farmer's Market with my daughter I saw four food trucks parked along the sidewalk on EP Ave. in front of the storefronts. A dosa truck, a cupcake truck, southeast Asian, and something else. They were still there when we came back at 2 p.m., so I pulled over to take a look, parking in a red zone because I expected to stay no longer than the time it took to buy a masala dosa -- or something comparable -- to go. The sidewalk was busy with people buying food, hanging out with their dogs, eating, hanging out with their friends. I was delighted by the scene, but heard from one shop owner that some neighbors were so upset by the presence of the trucks they had threatened to call the police. A quality of life disturbance? None of the truck sold tacos? (I have more sympathy for the objections to the taco truck that used to park in the early morning hours on Logan Ave., where it attracted violent crime and public urination.) At least one of the shops had arranged for the trucks to come -- and they had saved parking spaces. So, we bought water and a very tasty dosa (a kind of sourdough pancake with savory filling from south India), talked to Genevieve who owns Delilah cafe a little ways up the street, and lost the key to my car. (It's a VW key, if you happen to find it.) I'd had that key for nine years. I was lucky to run into a friend named Terry who said he'd drive my daughter and me home to get the spare key, but I'd have to climb in through the passenger window of his car, which I did. My car was still there, unticketed, when my daughter and I returned. The trucks were there, too. I'll be happy to see them again.