You’ve probably heard it called "New Chinatown." It’s a label that sticks because it’s easy. It fits on a map. But if you actually spend a Tuesday morning dodging aunties with wheeled grocery carts on 6th Avenue, you realize that calling Clement Street San Francisco just another Chinatown is kind of missing the point.
Honestly? It’s more like the city’s living room. It’s messy, it smells like roasted duck and old paper, and it’s where San Francisco still feels like a real place people live, not just a postcard.
The "New Chinatown" Myth vs. Reality
The history of this stretch in the Inner Richmond is a revolving door of whoever needed a home. After the 1906 quake, it was the Irish and the Russians. Then came the Jewish community fleeing Europe. It wasn’t until the late 1940s—when some of those restrictive, racist land-use laws finally broke—that the Chinese community started moving in.
By the 70s and 80s, the street exploded into a hub for Cantonese, Vietnamese, and Thai families. But unlike the "Old Chinatown" near Grant Avenue, there aren't any dragon-wrapped lampposts here. There are no tour buses. Basically, if you see someone with a camera, they’re probably just a local taking a picture of their lunch.
Why Green Apple Books is Still the Anchor
You can't talk about Clement without talking about Green Apple Books. It’s been on the corner of 6th since 1967. It’s the kind of place that smells like 1974—dust, ink, and damp wood.
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The floors creak. They don't just creak; they complain.
Most people think independent bookstores are a dying breed, but Green Apple keeps expanding. They recently downsized the flagship slightly to keep things tight, but they’ve opened outposts at SFO and on 9th Ave. Pete Mulvihill, one of the owners, has been pretty vocal about how they survive: deep community engagement and a "shop local" philosophy that actually works. If you want to find a book on the history of San Francisco punk or a specific 1950s cookbook, this is where you go. It’s the antithesis of a sanitized Amazon experience.
The Great Burma Superstar Wait
Let’s get real about the food. If you walk past 309 Clement at 6:30 PM, you’ll see a crowd. They aren't waiting for a concert. They’re waiting for fermented tea leaf salad.
Burma Superstar is legendary. It’s also a logistical nightmare if you don't plan ahead. They don't take same-day reservations—you’ve got to book by midnight the night before. If you’re a walk-in? Expect to wait an hour. Easily.
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Pro tip from a local: Go to B Star Bar around the corner. It’s the sister restaurant. It has the same tea leaf salad. It’s usually half the wait. Or, if you’re feeling more casual, hit up Xiao Long Bao at 625 Clement. People argue about who has the best dumplings in the city, but their XLB is consistently top-tier and way cheaper than the fancy spots downtown.
The Sunday Ritual
If you want to see the street at its most chaotic (and best), show up on Sunday morning between 9 AM and 2 PM. The Clement Street Farmers Market takes over several blocks.
It’s a jumble. You have farmers from the Central Valley selling organic kale right next to a shop selling salted egg fish skin. You’ll see tech workers in Patagonia vests standing in line for $10 sourdough next to grandmas haggling over the price of bok choy at New May Wah Supermarket.
New May Wah is an experience in itself. It’s one of the few places where you can buy live Dungeness crab, five different types of durian, and a specific brand of Japanese toothpaste in the same aisle. It’s cramped. It’s loud. It’s perfect.
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Shopping for Things You Didn’t Know You Needed
Clement is a haven for vintage hunters. Gaslight and Shadows Antiques has been there since 1976. It’s the kind of shop where you might find a Ming Dynasty-style vase or a piece of costume jewelry from the 1920s.
Then you have places like The Golden Hour for high-end vintage or Seedstore for that "San Francisco aesthetic"—think rugged, well-made clothes that look good in fog.
Why It Matters in 2026
San Francisco has changed. A lot. We all know the stories about the mid-market vacancies and the doom loops. But Clement Street feels strangely immune to that. Maybe it’s because it never tried to be "cool."
It’s a neighborhood built on utility. People come here because they need to buy groceries, fix their shoes, or see a movie at the Four Star Theater. The Four Star is a survivor, too. It’s a 1913-era theater that still plays indie films and hosts community events. When you’re there, the city feels small and manageable.
Actionable Insights for Your Visit
- Transportation: Don't drive. Just don't. Diagonal parking on Clement is a nightmare. Take the 38 Geary or the 1 California and walk the two blocks over.
- Timing: Tuesday to Thursday mornings are the "secret" best times. The markets are stocked, the restaurants are quiet, and the bookstore is empty.
- The Hidden Gem: Check out Arsene Lupin. It’s a little French spot that feels like a secret club.
- The Sunday Strategy: If you go to the Farmers Market, go at 9 AM. By noon, the lines for the hot food vendors (like the rotisserie chicken or the fresh bao) are 20 people deep.
- Support the Locals: Buy a book. Even if you have a Kindle. The survival of this street depends on people actually spending money at the brick-and-mortar shops, not just taking pictures of them.
Go for the food, but stay for the weird, creaky, foggy vibe that makes the Richmond District what it is. It’s not a tourist trap; it’s just San Francisco being itself.
To get the most out of your trip, start at the intersection of Arguello and Clement and walk west. Stop at Green Apple first so you have something to read while you wait for your table at Burma Superstar.