A recent burrito from El Faro, the inventor of the Mission burrito, in San Francisco.
Cesar Hernandez/S.F. Chronicle
Before the Grateful Dead, before the Summer of Love, there was the Mission burrito. In the fall of 1961, Febronio Ontiveros opened El Faro on Folsom Street in the Mission. Within days, the legend goes, he industriously whipped up the first Mission burrito to extinguish the hunger of some firemen. The missile-length tube was made from three offset 6-inch flour tortillas filled with meat, rice, guacamole and sour cream. An icon that would inspire local taquerias and global corporations alike was born.
Now, the original El Faro at 2399 Folsom St., the 64-year-old birthplace Mission burrito, says that it must sell an impossible number of them to survive.
Recently, co-owner Raymunda Ramirez announced the sale of El Faro, alleging that the landlord is raising the rent by roughly 70%, from $4,400 to $7,500. That means the restaurant would need to sell nearly 700 additional burritos a month just to cover the rent hike.
Article continues below this ad
Ramirez started working at El Faro in 1980, back when lines stretched two blocks out the door. “I was scared because I didn’t know how to say, ‘Hi,’” she said.
Ontiveros opened several locations between 1980 and 1984, some which still exist under slightly different names, such as El Faro Restaurant in downtown San Francisco, El Faro’s Mexican Food in South City and El Faro Mexican Foods in Concord. (Each outpost is now independently owned and operated.)
San Francisco Chronicle Logo
Make us a Preferred Source to get more of our news when you search.
Add Preferred Source
In 1999, Ontiveros died and passed the restaurants to his kids, who sold the original El Faro to another buyer before Ramirez and her husband Patrick Kocourek eventually purchased it.
Ramirez said she was able to keep the restaurant afloat until the pandemic, when sales plummeted. The restaurant hasn’t been financially stable since: In recent years, as she raised burrito prices to deal with inflation, El Faro’s primarily working class clientele disapproved, and seemingly got their burrito fixes elsewhere.
Article continues below this ad
Ramirez first floated a potential sale in 2024, when El Faro was broken into three separate times. Once a daily fixture at the restaurant, she has taken a step back since a medical procedure last year. The combination of her ongoing health issues, her age and the rent hike have made her once again seriously consider closing El Faro. “I’m deeply saddened,” Ramirez said. “I don’t want it to end.”
El Faro is just about the most Mexican place in the Mission: Vincente “Chente” Fernandez’s mariachi uniform is entombed on a wall, along with photographic evidence of his visit. Tilework near the ceiling depicting San Pancho social life — thematically linked by lighthouses, the restaurant’s namesake — overlooks the diving room.
On a recent visit last week, the place was empty for about 5 minutes. Then customers streamed in: Most people came for burritos; a few were there for pan dulce accompanied by coffee; another stopped by to discuss a story in a local newspaper. Students made straight for the fridges in the back, selected their favorite bottle, then decisively ordered carne asada fries.“Do you have nachos?” inquired one newcomer. Another proclaimed, “My dad would love to come here.”
Technically, El Faro is a legacy San Francisco business — it was recognized as such in 2024, for its contributions to the city as the creator of the Mission burrito — even if it is no longer a leading figure in Mexican cuisine. (My burrito last week was soupy, for starters.) Still, many of the city’s dining institutions, including Boudin Bakery, Tadich Grill and Tommy’s Mexican Restaurant, have endured despite serving arguably worse food.
El Faro’s competition may roll tighter burritos, make stronger fillings or employ more regionally specific techniques, but how do they represent San Francisco? I’m reminded of something that L.A. Times columnist Gustavo Arellano said on the topic of Mission burritos: They are “what San Francisco has contributed to Mexican food in the United States.”
Article continues below this ad
And they came from El Faro.
It’d be a tragedy if it was replaced by another soulless Taco Bell Cantina.