That’s good. Hold onto them. Nice memories are... nice. But as for what’s actually going on there now. One word: Mexican.
Meet the new South—it’s now a Mexican place, not a New Orleans–y place. Great. Here’s what’s changed, tequila-wise, and what hasn’t.
Then: The name was South at SFJAZZ. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue. When you talk about dinner, you don’t really talk in all-caps.
Now: South. Just South. Like, Mexico-south.
Then: Oh, you know. Gumbo and alligator. New Orleans stuff. Felt okay, sure, when you were about to see some jazz.
Now: But maybe you’re not seeing jazz tonight. Maybe you’re just in the mood for sopes, tequila, tamales, tequila and rabbit in yellow mole. A Zuni vet’s in the kitchen now, and he really wanted to make tamales. Who could blame him.
Then: Bourbon. Whiskey.
Now: Yeah. Tequila. Covered that. Try the Tequila Special, which is sort of like the 1937 version of a margarita.
Then: Metal, concrete and glass.
Now: All that. You’ll still recognize the space. But there are some spicy splashes of red and some succulents lying around. Because...
Well, you can probably figure out why.