A 65-year-old San Francisco taqueria that claims it basically invented the Mission burrito is now for sale, because the landlord looked at a beloved neighborhood institution and thought, “what if we just… doubled the rent and saw what happens.”
El Faro is a spot that’s been feeding the Mission since 1961. Back when San Francisco was still weird in a fun way, not in a “your landlord uses Excel to ruin your fucking life” way.
The rent? Jumped from $3,250 to $7,500. Which is less of an increase and more of a “have you considered not existing?” notice.
So now the place is listed for $225,000 on Facebook Marketplace, which feels spiritually incorrect. Nothing says “end of an era” like scrolling past a vintage couch, a used Peloton, and then… a cornerstone of Bay Area food culture.
El Faro’s origin story is exactly the kind of thing San Francisco pretends to care about. Founder Febronio Ontiveros allegedly invented the super burrito because some firefighters wanted sandwiches, and he basically said, “what if I just overachieved?” Three tortillas, rice, beans, meat, guac, sour cream and the whole edible engineering project. Nearby La Cumbre also claims they invented it, which is very on-brand for San Francisco. Everything is a fight.
Current owner Raymunda Ramirez started working there in 1979 and bought the place in 2006, which means she has more tenure than most tech companies have lifespans. She brought back the original recipes, kept it alive through decades of change, and then got rewarded with three burglaries in 2024 that cost about $25,000.
And even after a GoFundMe helped patch things up, life kept piling on. Medical bills, a knee replacement, and now rent that looks like it was set by someone who thinks “local business” is just a phase before “luxury smoothie concept.”
The city gave El Faro legacy business status in 2024, which is nice in the same way a participation trophy is nice. It does not, unfortunately, pay $7,500 a month.
So now the family is trying to sell, hoping someone will keep it alive instead of turning it into something like a minimalist wine bar where a single taco costs $19 and comes with a backstory about “deconstructed tradition.”
Meanwhile, Raymunda, who spent decades working 12-hour days, six days a week is at home, not by choice, and it’s hitting hard. The restaurant wasn’t just a business. It was her entire routine, her social life, her identity.
And that’s the part that gets lost in these stories. It’s not just another closing. It’s someone’s life getting gutted by greed.
But hey, at least somewhere, a landlord is feeling really good about “maximizing value.” in a “city on the rise.”
