The owner of Zinneken’s Waffle Truck says it’s about ‘bringing waffles to people, wherever they are.’

For former accountant Anh Phi Tran, things just weren’t adding up to happiness. Then he bought the truck.

By Arya Zade Globe correspondent,Updated April 29, 2025, 7:00 a.m.

Zinneken ’s Waffle Truck owner Anh-Phi Tran makes Belgian Waffles while parked in front of Boston University's College of Communications.
Zinneken ’s Waffle Truck owner Anh-Phi Tran makes Belgian Waffles while parked in front of Boston University’s College of Communications.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

The smell of buttery dough crisping on a hot waffle iron mingles with the sweetness of caramelized pearl sugar, drawing passersby to Zinneken’s Waffle Truck. Often parked on Commonwealth Avenue near the Boston University campus or on Oxford Street in Harvard Square, the truck offers a taste of Belgium’s street food culture.

Thick, crusty, airy Belgian waffles are nothing like their American counterparts. Where the American recipe is typically made with baking powder, the Belgian version is crafted from a yeast-based dough. Each waffle caramelizes on the hot iron, forming a golden crust that crackles with every bite.

Zinneken’s waffles, dense yet airy, with a very appealing texture, are served warm in paper trays or paper boxes. In Belgium, they’re a beloved street food enjoyed any time of day, purchased from kiosks or carts for a quick indulgence. Toppings include strawberries, blueberries, bananas, Nutella, chocolate, and speculoos, Belgium’s famous butter-spice cookies.

“Anyone can make waffles,” says Anh Phi Tran, the owner of Zinneken’s Waffle Truck. “But they’re best in the hands of someone who grew up with them.” He was raised in Brussels by Vietnamese immigrants, and besides English, he speaks Vietnamese and French.

Zinneken’s is not only a waffle truck. Its brick-and-mortar cafe in Harvard Square offers a cozy retreat where patrons can savor freshly made waffles paired with seasonal drinks. While the cafe caters to those seeking a leisurely dining experience, the truck embodies the mobility of Belgian street food, taking Zinneken’s signature offerings to Boston’s streets. “The truck is about bringing waffles to people, wherever they are,” says Tran.

Zinneken’s Waffle Truck waffles.
Zinneken’s Waffle Truck waffles.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

Whether served from the cafe or the truck, Zinneken’s waffles remain rooted in tradition and are made with a recipe that pays homage to Belgium’s rich culinary heritage. The Liège waffle, named after the Belgian town where it was created, dates back to the 1700s, when the chef of the prince-bishop of Liège adapted brioche dough into a dense, caramelized waffle.

Tran and his team have extended Zinneken’s reach through a catering service, in which they send a truck to weddings, bar mitzvahs, and corporate events. “Catering now makes up 70 percent of our business,” says the entrepreneur. This shift, largely driven by the pandemic, has allowed Zinneken’s to thrive in a changing dining landscape.

Tran spent nearly a decade steering Boston’s first Belgian waffle truck to success via an unconventional path.

Born to Vietnamese refugee parents in Belgium, Tran grew up surrounded by the cultural staples of his homeland, waffles among them. His father worked as an engineer, while his mother was employed in a chocolate factory. Now retired, they remained in Belgium as Tran pursued opportunities abroad. His family’s strict emphasis on preserving Vietnamese culture meant Tran had to navigate multiple identities from a young age. “I wasn’t the stereotypical Asian kid who stayed quiet and avoided conflict. I did a lot of sports, even though my parents preferred I focus on academics,” he says.

People wait in line for their food from Zinneken’s Waffle Truck last month.
People wait in line for their food from Zinneken’s Waffle Truck last month.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

Tran has an older brother who eventually moved to New York City. His brother, who holds a PhD in biochemistry, now works in banking. Unlike his parents, Tran was the first in his family to enter the food industry, forging his own path in Boston’s culinary scene. His initial career took him to corporate America, where he worked for six years as an accountant, a job that taught him valuable skills but ultimately left him unfulfilled. “I just wanted to do something different,” he says.

In 2014, Tran partnered with Zinneken’s founder, Nhon Ma, a French and Belgian citizen of Vietnamese descent, to expand the brand beyond its Harvard Square cafe.

The name Zinneken’s comes from the Zenne River, which runs through the center of Brussels. Historically, locals referred to the stray dogs near the river as “zinneke,” a term that evolved into a symbol of the city’s mixed Dutch and French heritage. The name pays tribute to Brussels’ multiculturalism.

The transition was not smooth. The waffle truck faced logistical hurdles, including finding suitable parking spots, sourcing fresh ingredients, and dealing with frequent mechanical issues. “People think it’s easy to operate a truck, but it’s not as simple as it looks,” Tran says.

He remained focused on the business, especially growing it organically. “We don’t make risky investments but instead invest from money that we make and have saved,” Tran says. “We tried to go nuclear in the beginning — adding more trucks and scaling quickly — but that didn’t work.” Instead, he adopted a more cautious approach, refining processes and focusing on consistent quality.

Now, Zinneken’s has one waffle truck and hires about five or six part-time employees, while the store employs around nine to 10 full-time and part-time staff members. Their brick-and-mortar stores are also located in Glastonbury, Conn., and Providence, R.I.

Tran’s decision to leave Belgium for Boston was shaped by both personal and practical factors. “I had a strained relationship with my father,” he says. With family already in Boston and ambitions in business, the move made sense. Though adapting to a new country came with its challenges. “It was a little lonely the first year, but I quickly made friends.”

Strawberries and whip cream atop a Zinneken's waffle.
Strawberries and whip cream atop a Zinneken’s waffle.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

Growing up in Belgium as the child of Vietnamese refugees profoundly influenced Tran’s perspective. “I do consider myself Vietnamese-Belgian, and now also Bostonian,” he says. His Vietnamese heritage shaped his approach to family and relationships, while Belgium instilled in him a rigorous work ethic and a nuanced political view. “Knowing my Vietnamese culture actually helped me here,” Tran says. His ability to navigate multiple cultures became a cornerstone of his approach to running Zinneken’s.

He sees his success rooted in his ability to connect with people. “Corporate was just about numbers,” he says about his time as an accountant. “Here, it’s about people.” The truck’s mobility allows it to cater to diverse communities, and Tran finds immense satisfaction in seeing familiar faces at events or repeat customers at the truck.

A highlight of moving the trucks around was parking it at PAX East, a large gaming convention at the Boston Convention & Exhibition Center. “It’s a lot of planning and long hours, but my staff loves it,” he says. “You see all these crazy costumes and young people — it’s stressful but also a lot of fun.” Events like these highlight Zinneken’s role as a community builder.

As Zinneken’s approaches its 10th anniversary, Tran has no immediate plans for expansion, but he dreams of introducing an electric or solar-powered truck to reduce emissions. He acknowledges the cost is a significant barrier.

Tran’s workload varies by season — some weeks are as light as 20 hours, while others stretch to 60 hours or more. Despite the long hours, he finds his motivation in the connections he’s built along the way. “I have a really young crew, and they keep me going,” he says. Most of his part-time staff are students from Boston University and Simmons College. “This year was hard because many of them moved on, but I feel honored they chose to work with a small business like ours.”

Tran shrugs off the idea of success as an endpoint. “Entrepreneurship to me is still a job,” he says. “I work for my truck, and that’s how I see it.” He says it’s not about recognition — it’s about showing up, waffle by waffle, and letting the work speak for itself.