Truck Yeah
09/02/2025 02:50PM ● By Haley Watkins
Image: Patrick Keogh took over Shreddies last May. Now he's not just serving up delicious sandwiches, he's carrying on his friend's legacy. Photos by Paula Jo Jaconetta.
“I still talk to him sometimes,” says his friend Patrick Keogh. “I’ll say a little prayer and ask, ‘What have you gotten me into?’”
He’s being modest. Patrick took over Shreddies in May. It was more than a business decision – it was a leap of faith to continue a legacy. Jake wasn’t just known for his killer sandwiches. He was a connector, a supporter of local causes and a friend to many. That spirit still fuels the truck today thanks to Patrick.
Carrying that torch has been “gratifying and terrifying,” he admits. “It’s not just about making food. It’s about meeting people, hearing their stories, sharing Jake’s story. That’s what makes it worth it.”
The Philly Jake and Patrick’s Grandma’s Hot Ham Sandwich are on the menu, along with new additions like the Banh Mi, ac olorful, dairy-free option stacked with slow-braised pork and crisp veggies. The food is designed to be eaten on the go – “by the river, on a mountain, wherever your day takes you,” he says – and everything is served without single-use plastics.
But this isn’t just a food truck. It’s also a platform for Chow (Culinary Hospitality Outreach and Wellness), a nonprofit that supports mental health and substance abuse recovery in the food industry. “We sell stickers to raise funds, but the conversations they spark are even more valuable,” Patrick says. “We talk to people everyday about the pressures of this industry – and that’s powerful.”
Patrick has been cooking for 21 years, his love of food starting early, at age 13. He used to sweep the floors at his brother’s pizza shop for free slices. Since then, he has worn many hats, like river guide and farmhand, but cooking has always anchored him.
Shreddies regularly pops up at local events like RiverFest, Fourth of July celebrations and community bike races. It’s not unusual for people to show enthusiasm to see the truck around town.
One of his favorite memories with Jake is from a brutally windy rafting trip through Westwater Canyon. While others grumbled about 50-mph gusts and flying gear, Jake stayed cheerful, helping prep lunch behind a boulder and cooking dinner back at camp. “His tent collapsed overnight, and he just popped out in the morning like, 'Are we rafting today?’ That kind of energy – positive and steady – that’s what I try to carry forward.”
In a town where the community rallies around good people doing good things, Shreddies has found not just survival, but momentum. “It’s a sandwich truck,” Patrick says, “but it’s also something more. A place where people gather, share stories and keep a spirit alive.”
The woman behind the flour-dusted rolling pin is a Missouri farm girl turned Saddleback rancher, Cara Iacovetto. Her business name was born at the dinner table, a nod to ranch life’s endless rhythm. “The name came from our ranching life,” she says. “Because, well, those cows never really come home. It’s about cooking forever – for my family, for the community, for whoever needs a slice of something sweet.”
Raised in a household where food meant family and love, she learned early that a pie can say everything words can’t. Today, her trailer, which she calls “Bessie,” parks at farmers markets and events across the Yampa Valley, serving flaky slices of nostalgia along with warm cookies and a glass of milk.
Her pies are seasonal and heartfelt. Strawberry rhubarb from her garden, blueberry vanilla, key lime, plus rotating wildcards like blueberry lavender or strawberry balsamic. Inspired by everything from childhood memories to local lattes, she’s always dreaming up new twists on old favorites. “I had a honey lavender latte with my daughter the other day,” she says. “Now I’m working on a honey lavender custard pie.”
But apple pie remains closest to her heart. “My mom, grandma and I used to spend days processing apples and peaches just for pies. We’d freeze them, knowing exactly what they were meant for.” She still feels that connection when she rolls out dough, a craft she’s keeping alive with every buttery layer.
Cooking Until the Cows Come Home isn’t a high-volume bakery. It’s a one-woman show focused on quality over quantity. “Every crust, every cookie – I know what’s in it. I want to serve my family and my customers the best I can.” Each week, she makes 40–50 handmade pies (sometimes up to 70 near the Fourth of July), plus sourdough cinnamon rolls and cookies baked fresh for Saddleback’s horseback picnic rides.
Hard work? Absolutely. But for Cara, it doesn’t feel like work at all. “Pie is a labor of love,” she says. “It’s slower, more personal – and that’s the point.”
And as long as the cows are still out, she’ll keep baking.
Summertime is when the magic happens. Skippa and Lisa pour their souls into every dish, with Thursdays and Fridays devoted to prepping for the Farmers Market and weekends flying by in a blur of grilling, seasoning and smiles. The truck is a full-blown family affair – a labor of love powered by island flare, tender steak, fresh pineapple and a deep commitment to their community. Their tropical steak bowls and surf-and-turf plates are favorites among customers, while their own kids rave about the loaded fries and tacos dripping in their signature salsa.
And though they both work full-time jobs during the week, the food truck is where their passion truly lives. “It’s crazy,” Lisa says, “but it’s what we love.” Their winters are slower, when they finally find time to rest and be with their three kids. But even then, they’re dreaming of next season’s flavors.
After 15 years in the Steamboat area, Skippa and Lisa are endlessly grateful for the love and support they’ve received. “We’re just thankful to share a piece of our culture with this community,” Lisa says. “It means the world to see people line up for something we’ve poured so much heart into.”
Authentic, joyful, and filled with flavor – this truck isn’t just about food. It’s about family, heritage and love served hot, one tropical bowl at a time.
Shreddies
When Jake Berman died last summer, his food truck, Shreddies, could have disappeared with him. But instead, it’s rolling on – packed with community, stacked with sandwiches and rooted in purpose.“I still talk to him sometimes,” says his friend Patrick Keogh. “I’ll say a little prayer and ask, ‘What have you gotten me into?’”
He’s being modest. Patrick took over Shreddies in May. It was more than a business decision – it was a leap of faith to continue a legacy. Jake wasn’t just known for his killer sandwiches. He was a connector, a supporter of local causes and a friend to many. That spirit still fuels the truck today thanks to Patrick.
Carrying that torch has been “gratifying and terrifying,” he admits. “It’s not just about making food. It’s about meeting people, hearing their stories, sharing Jake’s story. That’s what makes it worth it.”
The Philly Jake and Patrick’s Grandma’s Hot Ham Sandwich are on the menu, along with new additions like the Banh Mi, ac olorful, dairy-free option stacked with slow-braised pork and crisp veggies. The food is designed to be eaten on the go – “by the river, on a mountain, wherever your day takes you,” he says – and everything is served without single-use plastics.
But this isn’t just a food truck. It’s also a platform for Chow (Culinary Hospitality Outreach and Wellness), a nonprofit that supports mental health and substance abuse recovery in the food industry. “We sell stickers to raise funds, but the conversations they spark are even more valuable,” Patrick says. “We talk to people everyday about the pressures of this industry – and that’s powerful.”
Patrick has been cooking for 21 years, his love of food starting early, at age 13. He used to sweep the floors at his brother’s pizza shop for free slices. Since then, he has worn many hats, like river guide and farmhand, but cooking has always anchored him.
Shreddies regularly pops up at local events like RiverFest, Fourth of July celebrations and community bike races. It’s not unusual for people to show enthusiasm to see the truck around town.
One of his favorite memories with Jake is from a brutally windy rafting trip through Westwater Canyon. While others grumbled about 50-mph gusts and flying gear, Jake stayed cheerful, helping prep lunch behind a boulder and cooking dinner back at camp. “His tent collapsed overnight, and he just popped out in the morning like, 'Are we rafting today?’ That kind of energy – positive and steady – that’s what I try to carry forward.”
In a town where the community rallies around good people doing good things, Shreddies has found not just survival, but momentum. “It’s a sandwich truck,” Patrick says, “but it’s also something more. A place where people gather, share stories and keep a spirit alive.”
Cooking Until the Cows Come Home
Cara Iacovetto, in front of her food truck, which is lovingly named "Bessie."
Tucked into the hills of Saddleback Ranch, Cooking Until the Cows Come Home is more than a charming name – it’s a promise. A promise to cook and bake with heart, with heritage and with butter. Lots of butter.The woman behind the flour-dusted rolling pin is a Missouri farm girl turned Saddleback rancher, Cara Iacovetto. Her business name was born at the dinner table, a nod to ranch life’s endless rhythm. “The name came from our ranching life,” she says. “Because, well, those cows never really come home. It’s about cooking forever – for my family, for the community, for whoever needs a slice of something sweet.”
Raised in a household where food meant family and love, she learned early that a pie can say everything words can’t. Today, her trailer, which she calls “Bessie,” parks at farmers markets and events across the Yampa Valley, serving flaky slices of nostalgia along with warm cookies and a glass of milk.
Her pies are seasonal and heartfelt. Strawberry rhubarb from her garden, blueberry vanilla, key lime, plus rotating wildcards like blueberry lavender or strawberry balsamic. Inspired by everything from childhood memories to local lattes, she’s always dreaming up new twists on old favorites. “I had a honey lavender latte with my daughter the other day,” she says. “Now I’m working on a honey lavender custard pie.”
But apple pie remains closest to her heart. “My mom, grandma and I used to spend days processing apples and peaches just for pies. We’d freeze them, knowing exactly what they were meant for.” She still feels that connection when she rolls out dough, a craft she’s keeping alive with every buttery layer.
Cooking Until the Cows Come Home isn’t a high-volume bakery. It’s a one-woman show focused on quality over quantity. “Every crust, every cookie – I know what’s in it. I want to serve my family and my customers the best I can.” Each week, she makes 40–50 handmade pies (sometimes up to 70 near the Fourth of July), plus sourdough cinnamon rolls and cookies baked fresh for Saddleback’s horseback picnic rides.
Hard work? Absolutely. But for Cara, it doesn’t feel like work at all. “Pie is a labor of love,” she says. “It’s slower, more personal – and that’s the point.”
And as long as the cows are still out, she’ll keep baking.
Skippa and Lisa Island Cuisine
Skippa Hansel with his daughter, Ratan Adams, in front of the Caribbean-inspired food truck that he and his wife, Lisa, launched three years ago.
For Skippa and Lisa Hansel, cooking isn’t just a job – it’s a heartbeat. With over 20 years in the restaurant business, the duo launched their Caribbean-inspired food truck just three years ago, and it didn’t take long for Steamboat to take notice. In their very first season, they began winning local awards, something that still humbles them.Summertime is when the magic happens. Skippa and Lisa pour their souls into every dish, with Thursdays and Fridays devoted to prepping for the Farmers Market and weekends flying by in a blur of grilling, seasoning and smiles. The truck is a full-blown family affair – a labor of love powered by island flare, tender steak, fresh pineapple and a deep commitment to their community. Their tropical steak bowls and surf-and-turf plates are favorites among customers, while their own kids rave about the loaded fries and tacos dripping in their signature salsa.
And though they both work full-time jobs during the week, the food truck is where their passion truly lives. “It’s crazy,” Lisa says, “but it’s what we love.” Their winters are slower, when they finally find time to rest and be with their three kids. But even then, they’re dreaming of next season’s flavors.
After 15 years in the Steamboat area, Skippa and Lisa are endlessly grateful for the love and support they’ve received. “We’re just thankful to share a piece of our culture with this community,” Lisa says. “It means the world to see people line up for something we’ve poured so much heart into.”
Authentic, joyful, and filled with flavor – this truck isn’t just about food. It’s about family, heritage and love served hot, one tropical bowl at a time.