People tell me that the recent trendiness of street vendors, and indeed of the type of inexpensive destination eating that so frequently fuels this blog, is a fad, something prompted by the economy and the Food Network, sure to bubble over, fizzle out or fade away.

But I wonder if there’s a little more to it than that. And maybe I’m biased — or at least I should say I don’t intend to stop traveling distances great and small for good cheap meals anytime soon, just like I was doing long before I maintained a blog, and regardless of if anyone cares to read about it here  — but it strikes me that people need food, and people really enjoy food, and people generally don’t like needlessly spending money on food that isn’t great.

So maybe the interest in good, convenient destination eating isn’t a trend so much as a generation of businesspeople and consumers beginning to understand more ways to harness the awesome power of the Internet. Why settle for tasteless, overpriced pay-per-pound lunch at some bland corporate food bar when you could walk a few blocks to find the pizza truck you heard all about on Twitter? Why suffer another soggy salad when you know the Jamaican Dutchy cart is only an avenue away?

There’s something strange, then, about the Vendy Awards. Here are many of the city’s most convenient food carts, tucked away on Governors Island, accessible only by ferry. Here are various reasonably priced meals, for a flat-rate ticket of $85, all you can eat. Here’s food you eat when you need something quick, with lines that might last a half hour.

But none of those contradictions seems particularly jarring when you’re there. The superficial concerns are far more pressing anyhow. A gluttonous orgy of that magnitude and length requires some serious stamina and no small amount of foresight. Drink lots of water, don’t waste space on booze. Small portions.

Holy hell, why is this beautiful woman waiving that pork pita around in my face? Temptress! I wanted the souvlaki stick. I promised myself I wouldn’t fill up on bread.

Who am I kidding? No amount of planning could have prevented me from stuffing myself turgid with street meat within an hour of my arrival. It started with that souvlaki stick, from Souvlaki GR. Juicy hunks of well-seasoned pork, with tsatziki for dipping. Great, perfect. No time to savor, street food to eat.

Next it was A-Pou’s Taste, pork potstickers, much longer than the standard type you get from Chinese restaurants. Oh lord, they’re incredible. Fried crispy on one side, soft and doughy on the other. And that dipping sauce — just the right touch of sweetness with the soy, mixed with the sriracha I put in there. Wow. Move on!

A stop at Cinnamon Snail, a vegan truck out of Jersey with a bunch of dudes dressed as cops dancing inside. Normally I shy away from anything labeled vegan, but I’m here at the Vendys to enjoy all sorts of foodstuffs, and I figure if they made it this far they’re probably pretty good at it. Plus the dancing guys in cop outfits remind me of GOB’s stripper friends from Arrested Development. “Michael, these men are real dancers; they haven’t done any hot policing.” They have, however, apparently figured out how to make elegantly presented and downright palatable vegan food, though I begin to suspect it is quite starchy as I take my second bite of delicious mashed sweet potatoes. No more of you, tubers! You’re taking up valuable meatspace!

Schnitzel & Things! I like schnitzel, I like things. What could go wrong? Nothing. The owner, Oleg Voss, is a culinary-school trained former banker who learned to love schnitzel while working in Austria. I learned to love schnitzel, well, I don’t remember when I learned to love schnitzel but I was reminded to love schnitzel right there at the Vendys. And to boot, breaded cheeseburger lollipops! Why has no one thought to bread and fry the cheeseburger before? Oleg Voss, you are a visionary. But no time for talk, must eat more.

Next, el Rey de Sabor. The King of Flavor. Empanadas, tamales, quesadillas. Si, por favor. Mucho gusto. Muy bien. ¡Muy picante!

What’s that down there? There’s food out at Mexicue — one of the carts I’ve eagerly anticipated. Is it me, though, or is this amazing-looking BBQ brisket slider only pretty good? Is there spicy slaw on there? It says spicy slaw, but I don’t taste anything spicy? I can’t identify anything I don’t like on here, but I can’t — what’s happening to me? Time to slow down. Take a break.

It’s hot out, in the 80s at least, so I stopped by the Kelvin slush truck for a “governator,” a green tea and ginger slush with real pear mixed in. Then a walk around Governors Island, a weird and fascinating place that looks like a pistachio ice cream cone on the map, and — whoa, what am I drinking? Oh, wow, that’s good. That’s… look, I don’t mean to disrespect 7-11 and all the wonderful things that establishment has done for me in my lifetime, but I don’t even like Slurpees that much anymore; they’re too sweet. Not this though. This is just the right amount of sweet, but crisp enough to refresh on a hot day, with just a little bit of spice from that ginger, yikes. Wow. That’s just, I don’t know what to say. That’s a really good slushy.

Then a delirious amble around the island, past the weird DHARMA-barracks looking cottages, the beautiful mansions, the piers, the chapel, the mini-golf course. What is this place? Why is no one profiting off of all this land? Is something happening here? I read something about this, I’m certain. I need to rest.

I dozed in the shade for a while then made my way back to the Vendys, sampling food from the remaining vendors before heading over to the judges table to watch some celebrity chefs and food writers discuss which delicious food was most delicious. As they debated the merits of El Rey de Sabor, an enthusiastic onlooker yelled, “Best cart here!”

“Hey! Let us do the judging,” snapped a judge. Serious business, this.

I wondered how the judges could remain objective in light of so many variables — the order in which they ate each sample, the presentation of the food, their personal preferences, their own specialties, the heat, everything — but more, I wondered if I could get my hands on another one of those slushies. I left the judges to their judging, but found the line at Kelvin snaking some 50 yards into the sun-drenched field, and a Kelvin employees at the end shooing newcomers away; no more slushies today.

Astoria’s King of Falafel and Shawarma, a delightful dude with delightful shawarma, took home the coveted Vendy Cup and the people’s choice award. Souvlaki GR won the Vendys’ rookie of the year award. Kelvin took the prize for best dessert truck. The Urban Justice Center took in thousands of dollars for the Street Vendor Project, a grassroots organization that provides financial training, legal counsel and education to street vendors.

And I, and hundreds of others, took in lots and lots of food. At some point in there my water bottle opened in my bag and spilled all over my notebook, gluing the pages together. Can’t pretend I was writing much by the end there anyway. Too much gluttony for responsible reporting.