By Brian Hernandez

There are moments when the world feels like an episode of The X-Files, and you realize the truth has been hiding in plain sight the whole time. Like the instant you see Tore Trupiano, captain of PMQ’s U.S. Pizza Team, standing outside Mangia e Bevi (Oceanside, California) in a full Santa suit, arms crossed, staring down the camera like a man who knows exactly what’s going on and is daring you to question it.

That’s when it hits you. This isn’t just a holiday photo op. This is evidence. Trupiano is Santa Claus. Not “Santa energy.” I mean the real Santa. The one with a global operation, a deep intelligence network, and the kind of logistics experience that makes the Pentagon look like it’s still trying to figure out dial-up. 

I’ve seen the documents. The photos. The handwritten testimony. This case is more solid than a frozen doughball.

Breaking Down the Evidence
Let’s start where all good conspiracies begin: exterior surveillance. There’s Trupiano outside Mangia e Bevi, fully suited up, arms crossed, calm and confident, like a man who has survived centuries of cookie-based negotiations without blinking.

Then we go inside, and that’s where things get interesting. Because Trupiano isn’t just in the suit. He’s on the line, gloved up, shaping dough and building joy in real time. And then comes the part that makes the Scully in all of us finally see the truth. The workshop itself.

In the photos, kids are stretching dough at long tables like little pizza elves. Flour hangs in the air. Ingredients are lined up for little hands. Tore Claus moves through the crowd, supervising a squad of tiny apprentices like a red-suited handler running the most wholesome undercover operation imaginable. It’s all there for you to see for yourselves. Open your eyes, sheeple!

Then you get the handwritten letters, which are basically witness statements from the only people you can trust: kids. One reads, “Thank you for letting us make a pizza Santa! It was fun and delicious.” Another goes straight to the point: “Thank you Santa for letting us make the yummy pizza. I loved it!” That’s when the case locks in. Kids are the most reliable witnesses on earth because they don’t have agendas. They have feelings and zero brain-to-mouth filters, so the truth just pours out.

The Truth Is In Here
Now let’s pull the camera back and look at the operation the way Mulder would. Yes, Trupiano is Santa. But he’s also running a genius marketing play disguised as holiday magic.

As a Christmas promotion on December 20, Mangia e Bevi brought kids together to learn how to stretch dough and make their own cheese or pepperoni pizza. At $10 per child, spots were limited—and the event was a sell-out.

And here’s the part that makes the whole operation even more Santa-level legit. A portion of the proceeds went to Chefs Feeding Kids (CFK), a nonprofit on a mission to combat childhood food insecurity through four simple, powerful pillars: Feed, Educate, Train and Employ.

CFK teaches kids ages 9 to 18 how to cook healthy, affordable food through hands-on culinary classes, building confidence and real-world skills that can help them feed themselves, support their families, and maybe even spark a future career in the kitchen. It’s the kind of work that creates long-term change, not just short-term relief. And it’s led by Executive Director Chef Glenn Cybulski, who’s been pushing this mission forward since CFK was founded in 2009.

So while Santa was out here dressed as Trupiano, teaching kids to stretch dough and spreading joy, he was also backing an organization that’s literally building the next generation of capable, confident young people. That’s not just good marketing. That’s good humanity.

The truth is out there. And in Oceanside, it smells like pizza.

Brian Hernandez is PMQ’s associate editor and coordinator of PMQ’s U.S. Pizza Team.

Marketing