Dear Houston, I'll miss your tortillas and your gritty charm

By Cameron Ederle

My childhood memories of driving around Houston consist of power lines, frontage roads and standstill traffic watching heat rise off the concrete. As a passenger, Houston was a sprawling, marshy eyesore. I never thought of my hometown as a destination.

Movies and television shows glamorized Los Angeles and New York. I was stuck in the middle.

And then I got my drivers license. What once seemed like a disorganized conglomeration of strip malls and urban sprawl suddenly became a city teeming with offbeat neighborhoods and top-tier restaurants. I discovered the potholed streets of Montrose where the average block consists of a new high rise, a 1940s bungalow and a neighborhood gay bar on the same block. I took advantage of Houston’s exceptional food culture: Roostar for bánh mì, Pondicheri for lamb keema and Star Pizza for Ben’s deep dish. It was like living in an entirely different place.

Don’t get me wrong — Houston still has its faults. Loop 610 remains a hellscape save for select midnights and early Sunday mornings, the Galleria’s unapologetic commercialism draws you in and tests your tenacity to make it out alive. Winter means wearing shorts and a puffer jacket to withstand 37 degrees in the morning and a balmy 82 at noon.

But Houston’s afflictions are canceled out by H-E-B tortillas, the Rodeo carnival and Astros games at Minute Maid Park.

I spoke recently with my grandmother, a proud graduate of Lamar High School ('58), about my newfound love for my hometown. As a kid, I watched her use her expert knowledge of Houston’s streets to elude traffic jams. Today, I follow those same shortcuts. Despite our age gap, we share an affinity for Houston’s gritty charm.

The city has always offered the opportunity for both independent discovery and shared family experiences across generations, but it took a drivers license and maturity for me to properly realize it.

My horizons have certainly broadened since receiving my license, but I know that there is still so much to explore whenever I come home from college.

In my mind, Houston was never on par with other great American cities, but I have since come to appreciate the city of bayous, Beyoncé and barbecue for the Gulf Coast gem that it is.

I leave for New York City soon, but I know when I return to visit in November, a wall of humidity will greet me outside of George Bush Intercontinental’s Terminal C.

I will throw my luggage in the trunk, turn on Mix 96.5 and hop on 59 back home — eager to keep exploring the city I’ve come to love.