Lilly Ordoñez watched her dreams collapse with the Key Bridge.

The March 26, 2024, accident killed six construction workers, including the husband of one of her employees. It also destroyed a vital thoroughfare for people commuting from Anne Arundel County to Dundalk, where Ordoñez had been operating her Puerto Rican cafe, Owls Corner, since 2021. “After the bridge, everything came down,” she said. Sales dropped precipitously, and she was forced to close.

Ordoñez is hoping for a fresh start when she reopens the business in April at a new location: 824 N. Calvert St. in Baltimore’s Mount Vernon neighborhood. She’s confident her enthusiastic fanbase from Dundalk and beyond will follow her into the city. “Puerto Rican food is not everywhere, right?” she said. “People come from all over to try us.”

Her employees will include Isabel Franco, whose husband, José Mynor López, died in the bridge collapse. Franco’s daughter is also an Owls Corner employee.

In the city, she’ll join the small but growing ranks of Puerto Rican-owned eateries in Baltimore, including The Empanada Lady downtown. “We’re adding a lot of diversity to the food scene,” said Empanada Lady owner Elisa Milan. Baltimore’s Latino population has exploded in the past four decades, from fewer than 10,000 in 1980 to nearly 50,000 in 2020. Puerto Ricans make up one of the largest Latino communities in Baltimore, and Milan’s customers include city police officers who were recruited from the island.

But there are only a few eateries specializing in the island’s cuisine. She pointed to food truck Lotte 787, which is hosting a pop-up at Remington’s R. House through the end of the month. With a diverse and vibrant culture geared toward a sense of family and community, Puerto Rico has a lot to offer city residents, Milan said. “I think that should be amplified.”

Ordoñez is excited to be running a restaurant in a multicultural neighborhood like Mount Vernon. “I like to keep my vibe positive and happy, and I think this neighborhood will do that for me,” she said. In turn, she hopes she can offer guests a peaceful refuge that transports them to Puerto Rico. There are owls everywhere — “good omens,” she said — but also souvenirs from back home, including a sign by the cash register that reads: “Warning: I’ve got a Puerto Rican attitude.”

In the current political climate environment, Ordoñez’s hometown pride feels like an act of cheerful defiance. Last fall, President Donald Trump hosted a rally during which a comedian referred to Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage.” And though Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory and its residents U.S. citizens, there are reports that some have been wrongfully targeted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials amid Trump’s crackdown on immigration. In Philadelphia, one restaurateur told media that ICE agents “thought that we were undocumented because it’s a Puerto Rican restaurant.”

Ordoñez says as a Latin American, it’s painful to see. But in her own daily life, she tries to give people the benefit of the doubt. “I try to laugh, I try not to take anything personal,” she said.

Puerto Ricans often refer to their cuisine as comida criolla, reflecting a mix of native, Spanish and African influences. Menu items at Owls Corner include variations of mofongo, or fried green plantains mashed with garlic and crispy pork skins. Ordoñez, a former accountant who opened the cafe as a long-held dream, cooks savory hand pies called pastelillos and corn fritters called sorullitos. In addition to lunch and dinner, Ordoñez plans to serve breakfast, a response to residents in the area who told her they’ve found limited options for early in the morning.

The eatery will be BYOB at first, but she plans to apply for a liquor license. She wants to host salsa nights, too. A few weeks before opening, Ordoñez danced in the restaurant as she played a song from Puerto Rican rapper Bad Bunny’s most recent album on the loudspeaker. “Por la mañana café, por la tarde ron,” goes the chorus. In the morning, coffee. In the afternoon, rum.

The restaurant’s new home was previously occupied by Charmed Bakery, which closed last November as it transitioned to a wholesale model after struggling with high inflation and operating costs. Ordoñez admitted now is a challenging time economically to be launching a new business, particularly one dependent on imported ingredients like plantains, which she fears could be soon subject to steep tariffs. Customers, too, might be reluctant to spend money, given fears of a looming recession.

But her attitude is always optimistic: “It cannot rain forever.”