Just this past Friday, Masa Luna Tamaleria opened its doors at 1258 S 13th Street.
We weren't going to miss it.
We walked in, and something warm and savory was already drifting through the air. It was the kind of smell that clings to memory. A good omen.
If you read our first story on Masa Luna's arrival (click here to catch up), you know we’ve been tracking this one closely. Chef Carlos Cuevas, Noah, and Katie Mock... this is the trio you call when you want to do something intentional, something that actually matters to the neighborhood. And now, it's real. They're open.
But don’t plan on showing up Monday or Tuesday. Masa Luna is dark on those days. Everyone needs rest.
Open Wednesday through Sunday, 4 PM to midnight.
Two floors. A fireplace. A mezzanine bar that wants to throw your next party.
Inside Masa Luna: Soft Lights, Loud Flavor
From the street, it still looks like the Muchachos space — until you step inside.
What greets you first is the glow. Not just from candles or the flicker of the fireplace, but the soft yellow of velvet drapes that line the upstairs wall. They're thick, heavy, theatrical. The kind you might find in a Havana lounge or an old Mexican cinema. They muffle the sound just enough to make everything feel closer, more personal.
The brick is raw and proud. Unpainted. Left to speak for itself. Murals in bright, crayon-box colors dance across the walls — pineapples, pigs on a trompo, tamales in hats that say "ROLL ME UP, PAPI." There’s humor in the decor, but nothing feels gimmicky. This isn’t theme-restaurant territory. It’s personality.
Downstairs, the fireplace crackles with electric heat under white plaster. It’s framed with desert flowers and votives. Tables are arranged like a living room someone actually lives in — low-slung, comfortable, hand-me-down in the best way. A place to linger.
We sat at the bar for a bit, where the tile is vintage, the shelves are filled with houseplants, and the back wall occasionally becomes a movie screen. Yes, you can sip a mezcal negroni while an old science fiction reel plays above the bottles. And yes, it feels perfect.
What to Order First
Start with a Paloma. It’s got ancho reyes and grapefruit and that kiss of soda fizz that cuts right through the heat of the day. Or go wild with the Mangonada Paleta, served as a cocktail, yes — but it’s really a cold, spicy mango lollipop in a glass.
But the tamales. God, the tamales.
We had the Cochinita Pibil... slow-roasted pork with pickled red onion, salsa roja, and just the right amount of bite. It comes with beans, a little veg salad, and toppings that feel curated rather than thrown together.
If you're not eating meat, go for the Calabacitas tamale... zucchini, squash, queso oaxaca, salsa verde. It’s not trying to mimic anything. It’s just good.
The Tacos al Pastor are sliced fresh off the trompo. Pineapple. Cilantro. Lime. The kind of combination that needs no reimagining.
We also grabbed a plate of House-Made Chicharrito — crispy pork skins with guac, pickled veg, and something green and herby that turned out to be zhoug. Middle Eastern flavor meets Mexican crunch. Unexpected, but it worked.
And for dessert? Split the Mini-Concha Ice Cream Sandwich. It’s filled with vanilla cornflower ice cream and nostalgia. If they had a dozen, we would’ve taken them to go.
Upstairs Is the Move
The mezzanine. Let’s talk about that.
It’s not just extra seating. It's a whole second vibe. If downstairs is your neighborhood tamaleria, upstairs is your friend’s secret cocktail party. There’s a dedicated bar, a soft hush to the space, and a row of tables perfect for groups of 20 to 40.
The light cuts differently through the upstairs windows. It makes everything golden. If you're looking for your next place to host a reunion, birthday, or any excuse to share food with friends, this is it. The team will let you pre-order food from the kitchen below. Show up hungry and let the drinks do the talking.
(para ustedes proximo reunir)
For your next gathering. They thought of that too.
This Place Was Built With Love
We said it in our first piece and we’ll say it again: Masa Luna was born out of love. It started with 600 hand-rolled tamales at a wedding. That kind of commitment doesn’t happen often in the restaurant world anymore. But here, it’s everywhere.
You can taste it in the masa. You can feel it in the bricks. You can hear it in the bartender’s voice when they walk you through the cocktail list like it’s a mixtape they made just for you.
Masa Luna is not just open. It’s alive. And we’re damn lucky to have it here in Omaha.
Want to know more about how it all began? Read our original story here: Masa Luna Tamaleria Is Opening Soon in Little Bohemia
