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A haven from hype

If you haven’t been to (or even heard of) the Excelsior, that may be why it’s preserved its working-class soul.

By Robin Wilkey, Photograph by Jenny Elia Pfeiffer

“We don’t care if the rest of the world doesn’t know we exist,” says Excelsior resident Jean Feilmoser. Like most people in the neighborhood, Feilmoser has spent her life here and has no plans to leave. Wedged between Highways 280 and 101 south of where they cross, and stuck with a shady reputation (that the locals feel is undeserved), this is a place where gentrifying soles have yet to tread, and outsiders generally don’t bother to visit.

But they should, if they want a taste of mom-and-pop San Francisco. Originally an agricultural center of the city, the Excelsior takes pride in its blue-collar roots and has no desire to become Mission Nouveau. Its percentage of homeowners is among the highest in San Fran­cisco, and houses can still be had for $100,000 less than in Bernal Heights and Glen Park. Settled by Italian immi­grants, the neighborhood now caters to its residents with Vietnamese sandwich shops and Latin American produce markets. A pint still costs $2.50 at Pissed Off Pete’s, and “Joe Grinds His Own Fresh Chuck Daily” at Joe’s Cable Car Restaurant.

Across the Excelsior, John McLaren Park—San Francisco’s second largest (after Golden Gate)—boasts panoramic bay views, blazes of poppies, the nine-hole Glen­eagles Golf Course, and an amphitheater named for the district’s most famous former resident, Jerry Garcia. Without the crowds of other city parks, McLaren mirrors the feeling of the neighborhood below—traditional, quiet, and always unpretentious.

HANGOUTS
The younger crowd hangs out at modern Mamá Art Cafe, where rotating local art installations and a floor-to-ceiling mural grace the walls. During the day, freelancers on MacBooks take advantage of the sandwiches and free Wi-Fi; at night, DJs spin or singer/songwriters show their stuff. 4754 Mission St.

Don’t let the name fool you—Pissed Off Pete’s is more bark than bite. The cheap beer, uneven pool table, and dollar fortune machine are the trappings of a gnarly dive, but the bar has become a local hangout where everyone knows your name. 4528 Mission St.

GRUB
When they come across the half-lit sign and crumbling exterior, it’s not unusual for newbies to double-check the address of Granada Cafe. But sink into one of the vinyl booths, and you’ll feel right at home. The famous Manhattans warm your belly, and hearty entrées like chicken parmesan—which comes with

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