“I think if North Kansas City ends it, in my opinion, it makes them small-minded,” Eric Cohen, a 30-year-old maintenance worker for the city, said as he waited for beef tacos from Chef Tito American Fusion Kitchen. “Even though it may take revenue away from some of the local businesses that are set here, I think that there’s more of an opportunity for growth as far as people coming up here to see what’s going on.”

Gene Bruns, a councilman, spoke of food trucks attracting “the sort of yuppie set,” and said some high schoolers “feel that these food trucks are a cool thing.”

Still, Mr. Bruns, 79, said the downsides outweighed the potential benefit.

“Why are we trying to rob our local businesses with vendors that come in from outside?” he asked. “It doesn’t fly with me.”

The spat resembles food-truck battles elsewhere, from Albuquerque to Washington. But the dispute here speaks to an underlying tension in a region that strives for growth and urban cool but still treasures a small-town intimacy.

About four square miles, North Kansas City is dwarfed by Kansas City, which has about 75 times its area and about 100 times its population. With a growing population and a spurt of development throughout its central urban corridor, Kansas City has been trying to market itself as vibrant and inviting.

North Kansas City, meanwhile, is a sleepier community on the Missouri River, planned as an industrial hub more than a century ago. Warehouses and industrial complexes still consume a large part of the city, which is also dotted with modest houses and apartment complexes. It is home to a casino and the headquarters of the health care giant Cerner, and about 25,000 people come here to work daily.