Fajitas Por Vida
By Ayesha M. Malik
I ’ve lived in this city for nearly twelve years now. In my time here (which has been my whole adult life), I’ve learned that San Antonio is the Most Small-Town Big City™ in existence. Seventh largest city in America, second largest in Texas behind Houston. You would think that sheer size conveyed a level of anonymity in the city— somehow, that’s not true. I always manage to run into someone I know, thanks in large part to San Anto’s Texas-sized hospitality industry
Bars and restaurants aim to foster niche communities around the food, drink, and music they serve. But San Antonio hospitality is… different. It serves up la comunidad itself. Despite the volumes of visitors coming and going through the Alamo City, San Antonio caters to its own community and changes for no tourist. It is puro, staying true to its unique culture and displaying it proudly. One of these puro people that deserves recognition for preserving and highlighting SA’s communal culture is none other than Mr. Hospitality himself, Aaron Peña
Aaron Peña is the quintessential smooth San Antonio barman who worked himself from the literal ground up from sweeping cigarette butts at The Friendly Spot to being head honcho of several successful and exciting bar concepts in this city, including The Squeezebox and Amor Eterno. He has certainly paid his dues.enthusiast who's always up for a new adventure.
The Squeezebox has served as a North St. Mary’s gem for seven years. I frequented the establishments of the St. Mary’s Strip in my youth, including The Squeezebox, and was an admitted “striprat.” After all those sweaty nights dancing the wee hours away, I somehow never met Aaron (which is actually hard to do because he is ever-present at his businesses).
Actually, I learned of Aaron on Twitter (@CleanGuayabera) – through politics of all things.
I “met” people in the city I live in through the Internet, instead of organically like a normal person might. Last summer, I decided I needed more “inperson” civic engagement in my life for both my sake and the sake of the larger San Antonio community. Toward this goal, I spoke up at a City Council Special Session in August 2022, where Aaron was also in attendance. Little did I know that my real-life interaction would lead to neat online connections with people who care about San Antonio similarly. Forcing myself to publicly advocate fostered mutual follows and mutual respect.
Aaron stood out on Twitter, with the coolest handle of all time and a bio that reads, “I made a career out of hanging out in bars, vinyl selector/ collector, Spurs fan, and certified Tio.” Intrigued, I clicked through to his profile – and it didn’t take long to figure out he was the proprietor of some of my favorite San Antonio haunts. It was clear: He is all about his business (and community).
There’s no two ways about it: the 35-year-old Aaron is tío. He enjoys music, food, the crispiest cervezas, having a good time, and railing against inept government and politicians. Tío Aaron is a formidable fighter for his community and causes, both on Twitter and in real life. I knew immediately that he would be my first pick for a Puro SA series.
He carries an air of leisure about him, but is serious about his money and the people that rely on him. When construction broke ground on North St. Mary’s in 2021 (and remained that way to present day), The Squeezebox and its staff was left reeling. It survived the lockdowns of the early COVID-19 pandemic only to be let down by local representatives.
Just Like Tio’s Backyard
Aaron has been a vocal opponent of the prolonged construction as it poses numerous accessibility issues, patronage of the Strip is dwindling, and there has been no relief from the City of San Antonio for businesses impacted. Despite the grim outlook on the Strip, Aaron has been a leader in District 1, mobilizing a small army to participate in local town halls, protest, and rally in support of small businesses. But don’t get it twisted: Aaron is not a politician and has no plans to change that.
Aaron’s real commitment is to serving vibes. In addition to Squeezebox, he opened up Amor Eterno with his business partner Brian Correa in Southtown, located directly behind the historic Bar America. Contrasted with its louder sister venue, Amor Eterno is an intimate environment offering craft cocktails and upscale bites.
Teamed up with the minds behind Bar Loretta, he’s launching his third venture in the city: a concept called Bar Gimme Gimme and Perfect Day, which will be located on South St. Mary’s. Aaron carefully curates his businesses to put authentic San Antonio soul on display – and, in turn, attracts genuine supporters.
In authentic tío fashion, his favorite pastime is grilling meats that have soaked in his secret marinade for a full day while blaring Tejano bangers. In a world where food costs have skyrocketed, Aaron fed the people fajitas for free nearly every Sunday the whole summer. Fajitas pa’ la gente at The Fajita Lounge – a roving backyard cookout tradition (and true service to the community) that Aaron and his Squeezebox staff started in the summer of 2022 on a lark. All are welcome in the land “where fajitas go to relax.” Rain or shine, people show up in droves. The Fajita Lounge activities have resumed just in time for summer 2023.
In May of 2023, I finally went to my first Fajita Lounge on a very cozy Sunday. I don’t know what took me so long. I was promised conjunto sounds and free tacos!
Kicking off at 5 PM, I arrived at The Squeezebox at 5:02 PM and there was already a line extending from the grilling area on the patio. So, I wandered inside to procure a cool, refreshing beverage. As I walked in, the musical stylings of Primo Y Beebe filled the room. Like a fly to the light, I walked toward the stage in the back of the venue.
Singing through the smile between his bushy white mutton chops beard, Primo Carrasco was the soul to his partner, David Beebe, keeping rhythm with his boot heels. I was able to see the duo hailing all the way from Marfa, Texas exclusively at the Fajita Lounge. One acoustic guitar cradled by the 79-year-old Primo, with Beebe rocking a shiny, holographic bass, I was serenaded by both their sounds ranging from conjunto and ranchera to country and bolero—translated, just good music in Español y Inglés.
Lost in the whistlin’ and strummin’, I didn’t even realize I had been sitting there for thirty minutes. It was now 5:33 PM and the people started pouring in. You really start to feel the name “Squeezebox” when the narrow room fills up with people dancing and twirling their abuelitas around. It was hard to peel myself away, but I had to get in on the fajita action—if there were still any left, because the time was now 6:32 PM.
The line was no shorter. (Pro tip: Don’t wait.) By this point, the beef fajitas were gone and all that was left was chicken and Spam. As I walked up to receive my free taco, I overheard Aaron saying to other patrons from the grill, “It’s like your tío’s backyard.” No doubt about that. Chef Matt Garcia asked me if I wanted red or green salsa and all the fixins (cilantro and pico de gallo). The answer was: Or? Red and green salsa. Make it Christmas and fully loaded.
The fajitas themselves? Outstanding. First, nothing tastes better than free for this gal. Incredible price point aside, the chicken was juicy with the right amount of char. I took a bite and, immediately, the juice dripped out from the back of my taco onto my leg. That’s always a good sign. Homemade salsa? Can’t beat it. Ideal heat, amazingly fresh and tangy. Homemade tortillas? That’s next level.
As I devoured my taco in less than three bites, I heard someone say, upon hearing the beef fajitas were gone, “Just gotta get here earlier.” They weren’t even disappointed—it was delicious regardless. For the rest of the evening, I sat back and watched people shuffle up to the gate all night for their bounty. The fajitas drew people in for the backyard lounge vibes and cold drinks. Perfect name.
A couple of days after baby’s first Fajita Lounge, I sat down with Aaron at Wurst Behavior, a brand-new Asian-inspired beer garden concept boasting a kimchi queso dog on its menu that he is obsessed with. Lucky for him, it is mere steps from The Squeezebox, located just off the St. Mary’s Strip. Aaron was as chipper as they come—he luxuriated with a 45-minute deep tissue massage right before our interview.
After settling in, Aaron was an open book. Born in San Antonio, he was raised on the Southside of town. His parents’ house – the one he grew up in – is still there. He says it looks exactly the same and the soul of the neighborhood is intact (for now), despite all the rapid change, development, and gentrification happening in other parts of town. His love for this city and boundless hospitality was undeniable—he wants growth, but not at the expense of the real culture.
What does puro mean to you?
“It’s definitely a cultural thing. You feel it when you come to San Antonio. I think my spots, my bars embody that. San Antonio is a place where the culture, the music, the food, the history is second to none. I always compare it to New Orleans because we share the same tricentennials and [both are] huge hospitality cities. Before COVID, I think [San Antonio] was like 52 percent hospitality. People are so warm and so welcome and that’s what always kept me here. Like, when I travel and see other cities, I’m like, ‘It ain’t home,’ y’know?”
When you think of San Antonio, what specific things are conjured up in your mind?
(Author’s Note: Aaron did not blink or hesitate when this question was asked before he rattled off a list.)
“Championship trophies, five of them. Gregg Popovich. The Riverwalk. A breakfast taco. The Coyote. I associate so much of my childhood with the Spurs because we were just always winning and it was glorious.”
How did the idea for The Fajita Lounge come about?
“Super organically and very stupidly. What happened was, we had a crawfish boil at Squeezebox. The food goes really quick. I was like, ‘Man, I gotta get some food for us. Once we feed everybody, we’re gonna be hungry and drunk.’ So, I got a bunch of fajitas. After everybody left, we set up a grill in the parking lot of Squeezebox, and everyone was smelling it and coming back behind the gate, ‘What’s going on back there? Can we get some?’ And I [kept declining them], ‘Sorry, man, it’s The Fajita Lounge.’ The next day, I woke up hungover and I’m like [marinating on] ‘The Fajita Lounge.’ It was like a pretty powerful neon sign and we just kept saying it, putting it in the group text—it became an inside joke. It caught like wildfire. We’ve been doing it for a year now.
What’s been your best Fajita Lounge memory to date?
“The Fajita Lounge Showdown. We got ten chefs from around the city and had a $500 cash prize. They sourced their own ingredients, cooked everything, and presented their take on two fajita tacos: one with the protein of their choice and one with the wildcard protein, Spam. It was Labor Day weekend—we had like 300 people there. [District 2 Councilmember] Teri Castillo guest judged with us. We partied, it was great.”
And the Spam stuck around, too…
“That was a happy accident. People bring food to Fajita Lounge for us to cook, like a donation. Our friend Angel came by and brought a pack of fajitas, but he also had Spam. We all thought, “Yo, I haven’t had Spam in years,” so we threw it down and it became a staple. Don’t knock it ’til you try it. The salsas are homemade, the tortillas are homemade.”
How did you end up opening your first bar, The Squeezebox?
“[Working in the service industry,] I’d always daydreamed about it because that’s what you do when you’re young, but it started to get more and more real. My now-business partner and I would drive around and say, ‘That’s for lease, let’s call!” Once you start making those steps to put it in the universe, it usually happens. I remember feeling sick to my stomach in the weeks leading into signing the lease. It was like I was pregnant—not that I would know, but that’s what I would assume it feels like. [Squeezebox] is one of my babies.”
How did you come up with the concept for The Squeezebox?
“It’s probably my most organic concept. We were calling it ‘Squeezebox’ before we even had the building because we were gonna play accordion-style cumbia, Latin music. After Saluté, a straight Tejano dive bar [where TBA currently is], closed down in 2013, we thought, ‘It’s kind of a void for that now [on the Strip].’ We grew up there, so we definitely tip the hat to them. ”
And how do you go about making the concept a reality?
“We are very meticulous about sourcing things [locally], going to antique shops. That’s the fun part—building the design out. I designed Amor [Eterno] completely. The first thing I bought for it was a wooden, mirrored back bar I got for $125 at my friend’s mom’s estate sale.”
What was the grand opening for Squeezebox like?
“Anything that could break, broke. The beer cooler, AC, plumbing. I’m working behind the bar and everybody’s like, ‘Congratulations!’ and I’m like, ‘Shut the hell up.’ Drenched in sweat, didn’t even get to enjoy it. The beer was hot. I was probably pouring sweat into the drinks. But when we closed, we were like, ‘Holy sh*t. We might actually have something.’ It just looked like the community really loved it. It was, like, 500 people.”
What was the first year like?
“Exhausting. I was 28 when we first opened up. I would work the bar four or five nights out of the week. My parents told me all the time, ‘You’re not sleeping.’ And it wasn’t that I wasn’t sleeping, but I was just so in—I couldn’t turn it off. And then, the second year, it started to alleviate a little bit. The third year, I was taking vacations and it got easier and easier. But they’re really not lying when they say that cliché, ‘The first year is the hardest.’”
In addition to operating Squeezebox, you opened Amor Eterno during the pandemic. How was that?
“We had an invite-only soft opening for [Amor Eterno] New Year’s 2021, and grand opening on Capitol insurrection day [on January 6, 2021].”
How did the COVID years fare?
“It was more weird than anything not being able to open – being forced to shut down and switch to a to-go model to hustle to make anything. It was terrible, but the construction [on the St. Mary’s Strip] has been ten times worse than COVID when we weren’t open at all. At least during COVID, we had loans and grants and funding.” (For context, Aaron tweeted on November 21, 2022 that, even during small capacity reopening (25%), he had never seen a day where the bar’s total revenue was $67 (not a typo) until the construction.)
How did this whole construction saga begin?
“They didn’t get started [on the 2017 bond project] until 2021 and it’s 2023 now. We were okey-doked. We thought it was going to be amazing, and maybe someday, it will be, but I don’t know if I’ll be here when it is. They built the Empire State Building in 18 months, they can’t fix a street?”
Does it feel intentional sometimes?
“All the time. It’s been very deliberate the past six months. There’s just no progress. The neighbors [of Tobin Hill] have all been very quiet during this whole fiasco. If I had this half-million dollar house that I was so protective of, you think you’d be up in arms, they’ve had your street dug up for two years. But, that’s just supposed to show you the plan to squeeze out operators and gentrify this area.”
What does the future hold for The Squeezebox?
“I’m gonna be taking my farewell tour pretty soon, out of the Strip, out of The Squeezebox. It’s nobody’s fault apart from [the construction]. We have a bunch of events coming up, live music. I know when I announce it, it’s going to be two solid months of ragers—that’s my goal. It sucks, but a big part of me is relieved. I’m tired of fighting with the city, the neighbors. I’m happier with my businesses in Southtown. [Amor Eterno] just got Bar of the Year [2023]. And then, the new spot – that’s gonna take all my energy to get up and going.”
Tell me about your new bar opening in Southtown.
“So, it’s two bars: one side is called Bar Gimme Gimme and the wine bar is called Perfect Day, like the Lou Reed Song. We split it up with a wall. It’s where Francis Bogside used to be. Me and Bar Loretta teamed up and we took it over in December [2022]. We have food on both sides, too. The wine bar will be snacky stuff like cheese plates, small bites. And then, the main bar will be elevated pub grub. Do you know Jefferson Bodega? It’s a little store around the Woodlawn area that imports all of these crazy snacks, like from Korea. We want to do something at my new bar where we have someone walking around table to table selling things like that.”
You’ve opened two successful bars and are onto a third. When did you, in your history of being a small business owner, feel like you had finally “made it”?
“I still don’t, really. Maybe it is evident, or apparent, that I might or have made it, or I do, or I did—I don’t know. It’s work to me. Every day is like: If I made it, then my phone wouldn’t be ringing 30, 40 times an hour—like I’d be relaxed and cool, but a big part is I actually do love it. I’m a glutton for punishment, so I keep opening more [businesses] when one establishes itself. I’m like, ‘Another one sounds nice.’ I don’t think I’ve made it. I think I’m just at a position where things are finally working.”
Where’s The Fajita Lounge gonna go?
“That’s the million dollar question. I mean, there’s tons of places. We do it at Bruno’s Dive sometimes in Southtown, Three Star Bar sometimes. It’ll rove. There’s always gonna be a need for that. It’s like therapy to us. The Fajita Lounge is forever.” ■