La Simpatia (Guadalupe, CA)

This very special Mexican (or “Spanish,” as the vintage sign would have it) restaurant¬† has been in Guadalupe since 1944, but had to close down for a few years due to seismic retrofitting and rewiring. Much to our pleasant surprise, it re-opened at the end of 2015.

The Quiroga family has lovingly maintained the original menu and pretty much everything else about the place, including the diner-style counter,¬† the historic range, the napkin holders, and — best of all — “Pancho’s Hideaway” in back.






No doubt, La Simpatia will again be popular as a location for filming movies and TV commercials, as it has in the past. Here’s a scene from the 2001 movie Cowboy Up with Molly Ringwald and Kiefer Sutherland sitting at the counter.


Stagecoach Inn (Garden City, ID)

No new posts here for a while because we hadn’t been able to travel to hunt for them. (On that note, it would be nice to have reader-contributed sightings. If you have any bars to propose, please click on “Our Mission” at the top of the screen, and then use the form there to contact us.)

It’s depressing that, as far as we know, there has been no motion on re-opening San Diego’s Albie’s (featured in our previous post) in a new location. Not that it could ever be quite the same. Fortunately, we have some wonderful news out of Idaho.

The Stagecoach Inn is a steakhouse/cocktail lounge in Garden City that first opened in 1959 and thereafter became a local institution. But the owners ran into financial trouble in 2013, and the business was subsequently shuttered.

While there are few second chances for padded bars, in this case two long-time patrons teamed up with a Boise¬†restaurateur (who also owns the very successful Goldy’s Breakfast Bistro) to revive the Stagecoach Inn, which re-opened in summer 2015. The restaurant was reportedly cleaned, reupholstered, recarpeted, and trimmed in lighter shades of wood than before — but mercifully the changes are subtle. The menu is much as it ever was, too, and getting good reviews.

Upon our visit, signs that it’s 2016 were mercifully hard to detect (and certainly, the taps that the owners have added for serving up local draft beers are most welcome). We did suspect that the bar, which now has a trendy steel top, used to have a wood finish, and that was subsequently confirmed by this Boise Weekly picture of how it used to be. Yet the bar rail still retains its sumptuous padding, and as you’ll see, it’s decorated with a six-shooter at one end.




Albie’s, you’ll live forever in our thoughts

The last-ever weekend at Albie’s Beef Inn was deservedly packed, with everyone from hipsters who just discovered the place a couple of years ago, to couples who’d gotten engaged there decades ago. All were wondering how it could possibly be that one of San Diego’s most historic locales could get put out of business by a short-sighted, stupid, venal landlord.

For everyone who experienced Albie’s, it was pretty much heaven on earth: the atmosphere of a cozy home (OK, the home of your uncle who had the vintage Playboy collection); a welcoming and unpretentious staff; great food made only from fresh ingredients (where did they get those carrots, anyway?); great music; and the celestial tinkle of Fred Graslie’s cocktail shaker. It doesn’t get any better than this.








Albie’s Beef Inn (San Diego, CA)

When we discovered Albie’s Beef Inn on a visit to San Diego in January 2015, it struck us as pretty much heaven on earth. Nestled in front of a Mission Valley Travelodge, Albie’s has been there ever since 1962. While the sleepwalking bear sign shown below (in a circa 1966 photo) is gone, and the TV in the bar is a color flat-panel instead of a black-and-white CRT, not much else has changed since the restaurant first opened in 1962.

albies beef inn

That means great steak dinners, honest drinks poured by a veteran bartender, live music, and — if you happen to be staying nearby — breakfast at the bar on the morning after. All that and, as the photos below will show you, decor that is perfection itself for us lovers of all things padded and tufted.

As soon as we got to know Albie’s, we immediately made plans to visit San Diego as often as we could to visit, staying at the Travelodge right behind. How could we not, when there’s really no place left like it anywhere else?

Now, that yearly pilgrimage isn’t going to happen. Instead, we’re boarding a plane tomorrow to bid a sad farewell to Albie’s, which is going to close Dec. 23. Not because the restaurant wasn’t doing well, but because the Travelodge property has been sold and the new owners wanted to charge rent Albie’s couldn’t afford.

There’s of course nothing new about the syndrome of a greedy developer buying up a property housing a civic institution, then jacking the rent to drive out the longtime tenant — even though it’s the activities of that tenant who built the value of the property in the first place. But this time around, the story has a particularly ironic twist, since the buyer is an outfit called San Diego Historic Properties (SDHP), a firm touted for its “keen love of history” and “restoring more historic properties in San Diego’s famous Gaslamp Quarter than any other single group.”

It has been reported that SDHP wants to replace the Travelodge (which is also being closed) with a new hotel and restaurant that have a “Rat Pack” atmosphere. Yet the company’s CEO is also said to have demanded that if Albie’s were going to stay, it would have to revamp its “dated interior.” Talk about missing the point and totally lacking a sense of history.

As we’ve noted in a previous post, San Diego’s own, trendy Gaslamp Strip Club essentially features a scaled-up version of Albies’ decor, right down to the girls on the wall. All very pleasant, except at the Strip Club it’s ersatz, whereas at Albie’s it’s real.

Albie’s is not only living history, it’s actually come full circle and is actually cutting edge. If the SDHP people had had the wit to see that, they’d have come to terms with the restaurant’s owner, realizing that even if they had to subsidize the rent, it would be made up for by preserving their hotel’s status as a destination known nationwide.

Instead, they’ve become today’s equivalent of the vandals who were tearing down beautiful Victorians right and left when these, too, were 52 years old.