Beacon Street Tavern is dead.
Bow your head in silence.
Great. Now that that’s done, you could probably go for some enchiladas.
And turns out, The Mission Cantina, that Amherst-born bastion of frothy margaritas and pork tacos, just opened a new outpost in its place.
Here now: precisely what you need to know about the new digs.
The beloved tavern’s spirit lingers. But... that’s about it.
By spirit, we mean those big purple couches. Other than that, the space has undergone a healthy Mexican face-lift. Think traditional Día de los Muertos skeletons, high-backed pine chairs from Mexico and scattered Frida Kahlo art. Tell your winter house in Jalisco to take notes.
The new bar was inspired by Apocalypto.
Not so much the dying empire and brutal sacrifice parts (although the spit-cooked-pork tacos could count), but more the Mayan-y temple behind the bar where your 40-ish tequilas now reside. If you don’t see your favorite one, they’ll stock it for you. Mexican hospitality is the best hospitality.
They brought billiards.
The back space now brandishes a deep-purple velvet pool table for heated games of ocho-ball (or even... regular pool). Oh, and if you want the space for a private party, they’ll cover it and turn it into a regular table for you.
What happens in the back room stays in the back room.
Although it’s probably just eating tacos.
Still...
Bow your head in silence.
Great. Now that that’s done, you could probably go for some enchiladas.
And turns out, The Mission Cantina, that Amherst-born bastion of frothy margaritas and pork tacos, just opened a new outpost in its place.
Here now: precisely what you need to know about the new digs.
The beloved tavern’s spirit lingers. But... that’s about it.
By spirit, we mean those big purple couches. Other than that, the space has undergone a healthy Mexican face-lift. Think traditional Día de los Muertos skeletons, high-backed pine chairs from Mexico and scattered Frida Kahlo art. Tell your winter house in Jalisco to take notes.
The new bar was inspired by Apocalypto.
Not so much the dying empire and brutal sacrifice parts (although the spit-cooked-pork tacos could count), but more the Mayan-y temple behind the bar where your 40-ish tequilas now reside. If you don’t see your favorite one, they’ll stock it for you. Mexican hospitality is the best hospitality.
They brought billiards.
The back space now brandishes a deep-purple velvet pool table for heated games of ocho-ball (or even... regular pool). Oh, and if you want the space for a private party, they’ll cover it and turn it into a regular table for you.
What happens in the back room stays in the back room.
Although it’s probably just eating tacos.
Still...
