A sweeping new Texas law intended to simplify permits for mobile food vendors took full effect Wednesday, but mom-and-pop operators in the Permian Basin say skyrocketing administrative fees are instead threatening their livelihoods, keeping investments trapped in backyards, and forcing immediate business closures.

House Bill 2844, better known as the “Food Truck Freedom Bill,” officially replaces a fragmented, city-by-city local health permitting patchwork with a single, centralized statewide license managed by the Texas Department of State Health Services (DSHS).

While the uniform license allows larger, traveling food trucks to cross county lines without duplicating permits or undergoing redundant municipal health inspections, stationary vendors in West Texas say the implementation has triggered a severe financial shock.

“That’s $2,300 compared to what I was paying is $279,” said Antonio Beltran, co-owner of La Patrona Taqueria in Midland. Beltran previously paid standard municipal fees — $100 to the city and $179 to the local health department. Under the new state-level structure, he faces thousands of dollars in added costs for a stationary vehicle that never leaves Midland County.

“I don’t think any of these restaurants are held to the scrutiny at all in this in any city of all these things,” Beltran said. “It’s just like I said, it just seems to be working against all the food truck vendors and more of a benefit for the state to get, you know, extra money.”

The economic toll is exposing a deep structural divide between large, traveling vendors and hometown mom-and-pop operators who primarily serve local churches, schools, and neighborhood events.

“Despite its name, this bill doesn’t create more freedom for many of us — it creates more costs,” said Alton of Smoked Soul Mobile Kitchen and Catering. “The businesses that seem to benefit the most are food trucks that travel from city to city and operate across multiple jurisdictions … adding more financial burdens could force some small operators to increase prices, reduce staff, cut back on events, or close altogether.”

For some, that exact financial pressure hit a breaking point immediately. Mallorie Ewing, owner of Bittersweet Confections, announced she is forced to close her doors because she cannot afford the steep upfront cost of the state license while balancing household expenses and caring for her four-year-old son.

“To be honest, it hasn’t really gone my way,” Ewing said. “I believe after today I am going to have to close my doors for a little bit just until I can figure out because this is my livelihood. This I don’t have your typical nine to five job. This this is my job.”

For others, severe administrative confusion has completely halted operations before they could even begin, leaving significant capital trapped.

“Our trailer is sitting in our backyard,” said Sen Keller, owner of Keller’s Cheesesteak and Wings. “I just spoke to the health department this morning … they still have nothing. They do not know how we are supposed to do it. So we are out right now, $80,000 invested into our business and can’t open.”

Under the rules finalized by DSHS, vendors face an application fee of $876 alongside a mandatory $500 food inspection fee. Anna Capule, owner of Anna’s Cuisine at the Midland Park Mall, dished out $1,376 to register her truck this week.

“And I said, wow, but I got no choice,” Capule said. “I spend so much money on my food truck, I have to do it because this is what I do. I love what I do.”

The law’s author, State Rep. Brooks Landgraf (R-Odessa), expressed deep frustration with the final fee structures, maintaining that the high costs were tacked on by state bureaucrats at DSHS and were never explicitly authorized or intended by the legislature.

“I’ve begged the state bureaucrats at DSHS to do everything that they can to be mindful of the small business owners who are being caught in this predicament under the rules that DSHS added on to the bill that was passed,” Landgraf said. “And I don’t know that they’ve been as receptive as they should be to the needs of the small business owners.”

Because the Texas Legislature only meets every two years, a permanent statutory remedy cannot be enacted until the next legislative session commences in January 2027. Landgraf pledged he would file an amendment ahead of time to restore a lower-cost, localized health permit option specifically tailored for stationary mom-and-pop vendors.

In the interim, state officials note that local trucks already fully permitted this year can legally keep cooking while waiting on the state’s high-volume portal to process their applications. However, for family-owned businesses sitting idle in backyards or facing sudden closures, a 2027 legislative timeline offers very little comfort.

“I’m not going to pass that responsibility out to anybody,” Landgraf said. “I’m taking accountability to make sure that this is something that gets done and is a good policy, not only for the food truck operators, but for Texans who enjoy getting some grub at a food truck. So there’s some more work to be done and I’m committed to making sure that we get it fixed.”