A tech investor's plan to buy a landmark S.F. bar has turned into a tortured battle

San Francisco Chronicle​

06-06-2025

Orion Parrott wants to be the next owner of Toronado. But Toronado may not want him.
Regulars of the legendary San Francisco beer bar have known about Parrott since March, when the San Francisco Standard published a leaked chat from the encrypted messaging app Telegram in which this 'crypto bro' declared he was buying the bar — and planning to launch an associated crypto coin. They were not happy. 'Please tell me this is satire…if not, this is an absolute worst case scenario,' one wrote on a Facebook group for fans of the bar. 'I definitely would never go back if this sale is real,' wrote another.
But Parrott, a partner in Orange DAO, a fund that invests in cryptocurrency startups, seemed determined to win them over. In frequent posts in the Facebook group, he promised that he wants to preserve Toronado's legacy. And in late May, Parrott told me that his deal to buy the 38-year-old bar was moving forward and that he was ready to talk about his plans.
Could a member of the tech elite really steward a famously nonconformist institution like Toronado? I met him there last Friday afternoon to learn more — and discovered that the question of who will be Toronado's next owner is still uncertain. By the end of the afternoon, Toronado bartenders would be yelling expletives at Parrott. They'd be screaming at a Chronicle photographer to leave the bar. And Toronado owner Dave Keene would be calling me in a panic, repeating over and over 'I own the Toronado! He does not!'
When I passed through the bar's dutch door, I expected to see this allegedly soon-to-be-owner behind the bar, or at least chatting with the staff. Looking like he, you know, owned the place. But Parrott was clearly not an insider. He sat at a table against the wall, waving at me with a timid smile.
Parrott knows he is an unlikely suitor. Toronado is as beloved for its beer selection, often referred to as 'Broadway for brewers,' as for being a holdout of a pre-tech boom San Francisco. With its sticky floors, graffitied bathroom stalls and cash-only policy, the bar is a visceral reminder that Haight Street was once the center of counterculture.
Parrott, by contrast, comes from San Francisco's tech mainstream. He has launched mortgage-software and home-restoration startups, been through the Y Combinator accelerator and received his MBA from Berkeley. Although he invests in cryptocurrency companies, he disputes that he qualifies as a 'bro.'
He's never owned a bar before and doesn't have a particularly storied history with this one. As we sat in Toronado's parklet with our beers on Friday afternoon, he said, 'I had honestly not been here a lot of times before, but I've been going to Zeitgeist for 15 years.' He's loved sour beer since trying Duchesse de Bourgogne for the first time in 2007.
When he heard in January that the bar along with its building was listed for $1.75 million, he said, 'I had to jump on it.' He put together a group of investors and beat out at least two other offers.
'I'm told most dudes kind of vaguely want to have a bar,' he said with a smile. 'And yeah, that does sound fun, but this is a very special place, obviously.' The history and longevity impressed him. He worried that some prospective buyers might close Toronado and replace it with something that didn't serve the neighborhood as much, like a chain restaurant.
Parrott thought he could be the one to save it. 'People want this bar, so we're here to keep it around,' he said. 'It's not a charity, but my expectation is there's things we can do behind the scenes to make it better survive on its own.'
Indeed, Parrott thinks Toronado can be very profitable. He wants to open a restaurant in the adjacent storefront, also included in the sale, formerly a Rosamunde Sausage Grill. A 'locally successful purveyor of food' is interested in operating it. He sees opportunities in merch and 'content,' like a YouTube channel, inspired by the San Francisco skater brand Thrasher. Also, Parrott envisions a 3,000-square-foot rooftop beer garden. 'We've done some structural analysis, and it looks like no problem,' he said of the roof.
He's trying to walk a fine line between pitching the financial promise to investors, he said, and convincing the community that he won't change much.
'We're here to maintain (Keene's) legacy,' he said. 'A lot of people are worried that I'm going to ruin it. What would be the point of that? That would make no business sense.' He intends to keep all staff, 'because they know how to run the place.' Although he'd originally planned to launch a cryptocurrency tied to the bar called ToronadoCash, he abandoned it after the news leaked because 'people hated it so much.' Using a platform called Lofty, he'll offer community members the chance to buy small amounts of equity in the bar, for as little as $50, which will be 'like trading a baseball card.'
He cited Blue Bottle Coffee as 'an amazing example of a company that didn't sell out and grew and stayed true to its roots. Now, not everybody agrees with that.' (Blue Bottle sold to Nestlé in 2017.) 'Some people are going to be all up in arms, like, does that imply an acquisition to a corporation someday? It's like, maybe, maybe not, right?'
As he spoke, an angry bartender approached our table. 'Excuse me, can I interrupt?' he demanded. 'You take a picture of the bar? Don't include regulars then post it on the internet. They don't want to f—ing be seen publicly.'
Before I'd arrived, Parrott had taken a photo of the beer wall, as Toronado's menu is known, and posted it to the Toronado Facebook group. He promised the bartender he'd delete it right away. 'It got five likes already, but I took it down,' he said to me. 'I just remember somebody was saying they wish people would post the beer wall more often, so when I come in, I try to take a picture.'
The interaction shook Parrott, and he seemed distracted for a few minutes. 'I don't know if my plan of being open and transparent with people is a winning plan,' he sighed. The vitriol he's received on social media has been discouraging. He's never actually spoken with Keene. 'The brokers have communicated that Dave doesn't want to sell it to me,' he said, 'but I don't know if I trust them.' Surely the guy wouldn't have accepted his offer if he didn't want Parrott to buy the bar — right?
Our interview wrapped up, and my Chronicle colleague Gabrielle Lurie arrived to photograph Parrott. He warned us that she might need to stay outdoors, since the staff might not want photos taken inside the bar. After the earlier confrontation, I suspected he was right. When Lurie went inside and asked permission, Toronado employees screamed at her, told her to leave and demanded she give them her phone number. Minutes later, Keene called her. The tone of the call was so aggressive, Lurie said, that she hung up.
I asked Lurie for Keene's number so that I could call him myself. Before I could finish dialing, he was calling me.
Keene was deeply upset. The only thing he would say on the record — and he said it several times — was 'I own the Toronado! He does not!'
Three days later, Parrott heard from Keene's lawyers.
According to Parrott, Keene's position is that because Parrott did not waive certain contingencies within a given period of time, he is no longer under contract to buy Toronado. Parrott said that he couldn't waive those contingencies because they hinge on receiving documents that Keene's brokers have not handed over. Keene's agent Katy Lynn declined to comment for this story.
This sort of dispute is unusual but not unheard of in San Francisco commercial real estate, said Cheryl Maloney, a broker with Vanguard Properties (and the owner of La Ciccia restaurant). Once a deal is under contract, a seller has limited options to cancel. 'Depending on the language of the contract, it's unclear if the seller can pull out or not,' Maloney said.
In some cases, a seller's refusal to sign the final paperwork could constitute a breach of contract and result in a lawsuit, said Cameron Baird, senior vice president of the commercial real estate agency Avison Young. 'It would come down to who wants to spend the most money to win,' he said.
But even if a buyer prevails, more roadblocks may remain. 'If the neighborhood doesn't like the guy that's going in, they could make his life very annoying,' Baird said. 'Opposing every permit, appealing every liquor license transfer. They could make it really uncomfortable.'
Parrott thought this tortured courtship was a battle he could win. He never expected that Keene would want to pull out of the deal. He isn't giving up yet, but for the first time, he's beginning to question it.
'I think there was a time when they did want to sell to me,' he said. Now, he thought, 'There's a chance it doesn't go through, honestly.'