Who we are

Do you remember what it was like at your Grandparent’s House? I do. Every June my parents would ship my brother and I over from Texas to Florida to spend the summer with my maternal Grandparents. They moved there from Puerto Rico in the 1970’s and their home really reflected that era. I can still see the sensory overload that was brown sculpted carpet, green velvet sofas covered in stiff plastic, avocado green bathtubs, porcelain fruit baskets and lacquered knotty wood at every turn.

It was heaven on earth. My brother, cousins and I would spend humid summer days playing hide and seek among the citrus and banana trees planted in their backyard. We would pick fruit from the massive old trees my Grandpa planted when they first moved in, and use the branches for shade while we peeled open the most perfect oranges I’ve ever eaten. We would sit on piles of sand, juice running down our chin and my Grandpa would bring us little pieces of sugar cane to chew on, freshly hacked off with his trusty machete. It’s one of my earliest food memories.

It’s there where I learned to eat. I learned that food was something that meant more than just sustenance. Food at Grandma’s House was delicious. It was warm and fresh. It was made with love and tradition. It comforted all of us in a way that I try to recreate with every dish I make. I want everyone who eats my food to feel the same way that I did when my Grandma would put a giant plate of steaming rice, eggs and sweet plantains in front me me at her kitchen counter. Pure joy.

Colette’s Place is my vision for something so much more than just a cafe. The memories of summers at my Grandparents house inspire me in a profound way. The food there was healing, and I hope all of you can feel a little bit of that healing nourishment when you enjoy a meal at Colette’s Place.