St. Louis landmark Nachomama’s has been serving Tex-Mex for 30 years in Rock Hill

The realization that Nachomama’s turns 30 this year is a bit like being told you’re three decades older than you thought you were. Because part of me is still back there in the mid-1990s, waiting in some old banger in the drive-thru line for cheese quesadillas and a margarita for the road. But it’s true: The beloved Rock Hill Tex-Mex restaurant – the one with peppers and onions painted on its roof – celebrated its birthday on April 17. 

Owners John and Nancy St. Eve are still getting through 15 gallons of freshly made salsa each day, still roasting chickens over hickory wood, and packing tri-color tortilla chips into flower pots. They say they will never sell up. “That would be like cutting off an arm,” said Nancy, who went on to remember how “run down” Rock Hill was when they bought the place, and how friends advised them against opening their restaurant in this location. Granted, the building had an oily vibe (it was formerly a Popeyes), and granted, the St. Eves were “young and poor,” as Nancy put it. 

But here’s the scene now: There’s a 2024 Ford Bronco (not mine) in the parking lot and a Starbucks down the street. There’s a day care for dogs on the other side of the street, and just up from that, a bells-and-whistles car wash. Amid the dull homogeneous modernity of Manchester Road, Nachomama’s is a gorgeous relic. 

But the customers are as varied and as regular as ever. Rich Mulligan – in a tie and workday slacks – was taking a break from his office two minutes away. And Stew, an older gentleman, was in jeans and a plaid shirt. Both men were on first name terms with John. Both were moving about the place like they were at home – helping themselves to drinks, dishing salsa and jalapenos from the help-yourself bins. “I come at least three times a week,” Mulligan said. 

 

 

Nancy St. Eve says some people find it hard to stay away, to be without this simple, tasty food for long. They’ve been known to ship fajitas, tacos, chips, salsa and guacamole with dry ice to folks hungry for a taste of home. And some customers, John said, will dash here straight from the airport having been out of town for a while. There’s just something about this spice-rubbed chicken, the amply sauced enchiladas; the generosity, generally, of the rice and beans and guac. 

“From the outside, people assume it has a ‘divey’ quality, but it’s really not that,” Nancy said. “This is home-cooked food, a family restaurant.” If by “divey,” she means no-frills, then yes, there is zero affectation here. Features that were here three decades ago remain today: Part of the ceiling is pasted with sections of a Bud Light billboard; the ordering counter and drinks station are paneled in old corrugated iron. The genius of Nachomama’s is that it passes for something more basic than it is, and does so merrily and humbly. The fact is, the place is whatever you want it to be.

It’s a wonder the St. Eves are still standing. Between them, they can work close to 24 hours a day. John says he was bred for this lifestyle. He has a bachelor’s degree in Hotel and Restaurant Management from Mizzou, where he said he learned how to “conduct himself respectfully in the kitchen.” The St. Eves currently have 16 employees, but for the time being are without a restaurant manager, which may account somewhat for the unrelenting grind.

But when they are not “at the office,” not whipped by the often brutal demands of restaurant life, you’ll find Nancy in a dress. Not any old dress, but a hand-embroidered Mexican frock – one of “maybe 50” she has bought over the years from a women’s clothing shop in Dallas. John is probably at home eating the takeout he made earlier. The St. Eves live and breathe this air, which is tinged with the scent of onions and warm chiles, hot chips and woodsmoke.

Although Nancy said none of her four children have any interest in ever taking over the business, there are 15 grandchildren who could assume the reins one day. “Anything other than that is inconceivable to me,” she said. 

When we were there, someone popped in just to use the bathroom; they left their car door open and the engine running. No one seemed to mind. It’s the easy way of things here – easy as forgetting that it’s 2024 and you’re not a cheese-loving girl anymore. So I had to do it. Even though I’d placed my order inside (and been offered my order inside), we – me and the ghost of my old tin Lizzie – had to roll around back and pick it up from the drive-thru window.

9643 Manchester Road, Rock Hill, 314.961.9110, nachomamas-stl.com