Our story starts in a kitchen, but it’s about more than that. It’s about purpose, hard work, and serving others.

My mother was the kind of cook who didn’t just make meals, she created something people could feel. Folks didn’t just come over to eat, they stayed, talked, and left better than they came. To her, food wasn’t just about flavor, it was about connection and taking care of people.

She believed a good meal could bring people together, steady you, and remind you that you mattered.

Later in her life, she uncovered something that gave deeper meaning to what she had been doing all along: our family’s Scottish heritage. What started as curiosity turned into pride. She leaned into the traditions and flavors that had been shaping her cooking for years without even knowing it.

Dishes she thought she came up with on her own turned out to be part of something older, something passed down.

And once she found that, everything she made had a story behind it.

I grew up in her kitchen, and from early on, I knew cooking meant something to me. But life took me down a different path, and I spent years in the medical field. That time shaped me. It taught me discipline, responsibility, and what it truly means to serve others. It’s also where I met my wife, one of the greatest blessings in my life.

Before she passed, my mother spent hours teaching me everything she could, not just recipes, but discipline, pride, and how to do things the right way.

After losing her, I made a decision to carry that same purpose forward.

That’s how Thistle and Buck was built.

The thistle stands for our Scottish roots, the heritage behind her cooking and our story. The buck stands for strength, resilience, and the willingness to build something with purpose.

This food truck is more than a business. It’s how I continue serving others, just in a different way. It’s how I honor my mother and carry forward what she gave me.

Every dish we serve is made with intention, built on tradition, and meant to leave an impression.

This isn’t just food.

It’s a legacy of service, carried forward one plate at a time.