There is no place like Home: Honduras in New Orleans

there is no place like home, and sometimes home is a plate of fritas.

I had not been to the new Alma's Café location in Mid-City. I knew the Bywater, loved the Bywater... but Mid-City was waiting on me, and I finally made it. New Orleans is one of those cities where you can eat Honduran food and feel absolutely at home in it. We are lucky that way. There are incredible Honduran restaurants woven into the fabric of this city, and I am grateful for every single one of them.

But Alma's has my whole heart for a very specific reason.

The fritas. My abuelita's fritas.

For most of my life, I had only ever eaten fritas at her house. Her kitchen. Her hands. That particular combination of flavors that I could not fully explain but would recognize anywhere, in any lifetime. The first time I ever ate fritas outside of her home was at Alma's... and I remember the immediate reaction I had. Something warm and familiar. Close, beautifully close... (but I will be honest with you. I missed the drizzled honey).

And yet, that feeling of "home" does not go away.

This particular visit, I brought my oldest and my youngest. My oldest lives in South Carolina now, and he was in town for just a blink. Before he headed back to the airport, the three of us made time for Alma's... because baleadas were not optional. They never are. These boys grew up on this food the way I grew up on it. It lives in their bodies the same way it lives in mine.

Watching him walk out of that restaurant with a full belly and a happy heart... that is what comfort food actually is. Not just flavor. Not just a recipe. It is memory. It is belonging. It is proof that some things travel with you no matter how far you go.

Alma's Café. Mid-City. Go. Eat the baleadas. Eat the fritas. Let it hold you.

With a secondline in my step wherever the rhythm carries me,

Karlita

Karla Marie “Karlita” Cochran

In the Spotlight 504 New Orleans

@almascafenola Mid-City, New Orleans