“I can’t believe you’re closing!” the ladies next to me told the waitress at West of Pecos, on Valencia Street, off 16th Street.
“Yeah, it’s all people seem to be talking about,” she said. “But … it happens.” Her demeanor gave the impression that this wasn’t the first time she’d lost her job because a place shut down.
The customers said they were here to try things on the menu that were new to them while there was still time.
“People seem to be doing that,” the waitress agreed. “Trying to taste everything before it’s too late. I’m doing that, making sure I’ve had it all.”
She walked away, and the ladies beside me tried to remember times they’d come here together. There didn’t seem to be many. This is a bar that is important enough to them to be here before it goes, but not, apparently, to be a regular at.
That’s me, too. I wasn’t hurt to learn that West of Pecos is closing. It’s not a gut punch the way some other closings have been, but I was surprised. And sad. By the time you read this, it might already be gone, and it’s a damn shame.
Like the people next to me, I went in for a few goodbye drinks, and was reminded once again of just how good everything here is.
It’s a pleasant environment, half-restaurant seating, half-bar area, with a consistent but not obnoxious wild west theme. It’s wood paneled, with high ceilings and skylights. Snake skins under glass decorate the bathrooms and behind the bar, while glass displays of sheriffs’ badges run along the walls behind booths, and there are small cacti everywhere. The occasional pair of cowboy boots dangle from the ceiling.
I started with a Devil’s Tooth cocktail (bourbon, rye, ginger, tangerine, vanilla, bitters, $14), which I’ve had before, and the pork and green chili flautas ($13), which I hadn’t. I wasn’t worried for a moment: Everything I’ve had in my few visits here has been great. I’ve never had a drink or food here that I wouldn’t happily order again. If only I could.
The reason given for West of Pecos’ closing, that people simply aren’t going out as much in the post-pandemic period, is one that has come up a lot lately. It’s the reason we’ve lost so many bars, restaurants, and small theaters. In a city this expensive, a small business can’t just have customers — it needs to be consistently packed in order to make it through. West of Pecos wasn’t empty, by any stretch; on this night, it looked to me like only a few tables and spaces at the bar were available early on a weeknight. It’s hard for me to believe that’s not enough. But then, it’s hard for me to believe the rents around here, too. Eventually, the slow increases in costs and a reduced customer base come together to create a new reality. The business models that worked before the pandemic aren’t doing it now, because life is on Hard Mode.
I was supposed to go out drinking with a friend tonight, but he canceled because he’d caught Covid-19. Apparently that’s still around. I invited another friend, but she said she was buried with work emails and wouldn’t be done until late. Going out drinking might mean something different on Hard Mode.
My drink came fast. The food was slower, but that’s all right, I wasn’t in a hurry. Both were great. A little while later I ordered a Faith Healer (gin, aloe vera, honey, shrub, lime, mint, basil, $14) and three tacos ($16), and if I’d had the appetite or the funds, I surely would have ordered a round after that. It was damn good.
But damn good isn’t necessarily enough.
Two kinds of bars, it seems to me, are most resistant to this new economic environment. One is the “jewel of the city” kind of bar, the place that stands out so much it might get mentioned in national magazines, the kind of place that tourists want to visit and where you’ll take your out-of-town friends to show off. Destination bars, like Trick Dog or Bourbon & Branch.
West of Pecos is great, but it isn’t one of those. It’s extremely good, but it’s “in the high middle of the pack” good, a bar you’ll go to for quality, but not a destination in its own right.
The second kind of bar that seems to be weathering the new climate is the true neighborhood bar: Places, mostly dives, where people who live around here go just because it’s their neighborhood bar, and that’s where they want to spend their time. The kind of place where the bartender knows most of the people there at any given moment, and the patrons know each other. Some of these bars have names you’ll recognize, like the 500 Club or The Rite Spot, but most of them are bars that are only known to the people who go there. But they show up, and the overhead is at least marginally lower, and somehow it works.
West of Pecos doesn’t seem to be one of those, either. Maybe I’m missing something, but I got no impression that it’s a community hub. Most of the time, it seems to be people like me there: People who like it, but only show up once in a while.
Everything between those two extremes, destination bars and established neighborhood bars, seems like it’s at greater risk right now. And it’s a problem. Our bar scene needs really good mid-range bars the same way that our arts scene needs small theaters. They’re the backbone of a healthy ecology.
West of Pecos didn’t slow down that night. It just kept getting more crowded. It looked like it was doing damn well. Is this just a bunch of people like me, who miss it already? Are we all tourists visiting a version of the city we used to live in as it fades before our eyes?
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a guy coming in. The waitress asked if he’d like a seat at the bar — all that was available now — but he didn’t. He was here to ask if they’ll be selling off the art when they close.
The staff member said she didn’t know, so he said he’d reach out to the manager later, and left. Didn’t even stop for a drink.
His loss.
It was pretty close to standing-room-only when I left, and it left me wanting more.
Valencia Street simply can’t support the businesses it has now. Tourist traffic is minimal and happens on only certain days and times. Even street closures aren’t bringing in crowds anymore.
Is it the crime, or the perception of crime? I believe the latter — MOSTLY. I don’t think Valencia Street is dangerous at all. But there’s no doubt that anyone driving into the city is at risk of having their car broken into.
Businesses are going to keep dropping off if we don’t do something about the perception of crime. And we can’t do that if we don’t acknowledge that it’s a serious problem.
A couple new Oaxaca restaurants opened near Valencia in the last few weeks.
There will be no shortage of Mexican restaurants in the neighborhood, and we don’t need Tex Mex.
A real Tex Mex and New Mexican restaurant would be a welcome addition to the neighborhood. Long before Green Chile Kitchen in NOPA, Carlos and Panchos, in the storefront where Godfather’s Pizza was, was the go-to for blue corn green chile enchiladas with fresh tortillas and sopapillas.
It would be cool to see Tex Mex burritos made with small flour tortillas wrapping fillings covered with queso, 3 to the plate, in the heart of the Mission California burrito country.
Aztlanian cuisine is awesome. I’m partial to our local, Puerto Alegre.
When I went to West of Pecos shortly after it opened, I went for the green chile cheeseburger which is more New Mexican, southwestern cuisine than Tex Mex. West of Pecos is a sparse Texas region without much population or concentration of culture, closer to El Paso/Juarez and New Mexico than the rest of Texas to the east.
Looking at the menu now, it seems to be more Tex Mex but upscale, gringo Tex Mex. I wonder if heirloom Velveeta is used for the queso? Regular gringomex, the absence of lardbergs in your beans and not meat in everything, is my fave.
Tex Mex is basically Mexican cuisine made with mid 20th century mass produced ingredients swimming in con carne sauce. The quality of any Mexican restaurant is generally inversely proportional to its “curb appeal.”
An exception to that was the inviting Escondido Tex-Mex Patio in Dallas, some of the finest of the cuisine that I’d ever had. There was a glorious dump of a restaurant near Parkland Hospital also called Escondido that got kneecapped by a homeless service center on their block and ended up getting the coup de grace from a medical center parking garage planned for its parcel.
West of Pecos has good drinks but the food has always been pretty forgettable… still, a nice place and such a shame to see it go. Valencia, like the rest of SF, is going to get worse before it gets better.
A go-to brunch spot for years. Good food, usually easy to get into, even with a group. But they stopped doing it maybe a year ago (that “easy to get into” might have indicated a problem). I’ll miss it.
And you should have ordered the Rodeo Ghost!