Casa Bonita

Note:

This review is part of our Destination Series. Although Casa Bonita is located in the Denver area, it has received so much national attention that we decided to check it out for ourselves. We hope our Salt Lake-area readers will find our report interesting and helpful.

History:

Casa Bonita has been a Denver-area fixture for over 50 years. An entire generation or two of Denver residents grew up with fond memories of visiting Casa Bonita. Evidently, they didn’t go for the food, though, which was legendarily bad. In fact, a plaque in Casa Bonita’s own museum explains:

“Diners expressed their disappointment, sharing tales of bland sauces, soggy tortillas, reheated dishes and expensive hospital visits. It became apparent that the primary focus lay on creating a memorable experience rather than culinary delight, or even tolerable food. The restaurant suffered numerous rumors of serving subpar food and one persistent rumor about dog food, quickly earning the nickname ‘Casa No-Eata.’”

Notwithstanding the quality of the menu, the restaurant enjoyed great popularity. It was something of a spectacle, an exciting, entertaining experience. Two of the people who grew up with fond memories of childhood visits to Casa Bonita are Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creative minds behind the South Park animated TV show and the Book of Mormon musical. They loved it so much, they made the restaurant something of a running gag in their South Park series, even building the plot of an entire episode around a visit to Casa Bonita. When the parent company of Casa Bonita went bankrupt following the restaurant’s pandemic closure, Parker and Stone bought the restaurant. They spent about $40 million renovating and restoring the place, even redeveloping the menu with a focus on improved quality and a genuine Mexican dining experience.

She said:

After all the hype about the Casa Bonita being a legendary restaurant that had undergone a huge overhaul under new ownership of the South Park guys, and after we travelled 500 miles to get there, dining at the Casa Bonita fell far short of my expectations. For starters, I guess I thought that it would be situated in a more distinctive, more isolated location. You know, I thought this larger-than-life icon would be a bright, pink solitary beacon rising above the Denver landscape. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was at a strip mall, flanked by a Ross Dress for Less and a Dollar Store.

Admittedly, the exterior was attractive with its medium peony-pink stucco walls, tall cupola, white trim, and lovely fountain out front. It appeared to be bright and welcoming, but upon entering, we discovered that the interior was dimly lit. As we wound our way to the hostess, we encountered a caged, wrought iron spiral staircase, various plants in lively patterned ceramic pots, numerous posters about Mexican life hung on the walls, and brightly colored flags in orange, green, and pink suspended from the ceiling.

Looking around, I took in the cream, terracotta, and pink stucco façades that purported to be villas and cafés. There was a lot of black, wrought iron found in numerous balcony railings—which I liked a lot because of the nice contrast to the lighter-hued stucco walls. Also, the tables, chairs, huts, and other structures were fashioned of solid wood, which I appreciated. There were artificial palm trees of various heights, a few Arbol de la Vida trees, red artificial floral garlands draped across walls, and fake, sienna-red cliff rock abutments from which divers put on a lighthearted act before plunging into the water below. Their performances were a bit cheesy, but fun. Their antics were also punctuated by an Elvis Presley song playing in the background. I did take time to notice that the divers had washboard abs. So, these young performers were athletic and fit. They needed to be, as they had to dive into the water three times every hour. Oh, and there was a live quartet of musicians who crooned what I assumed were traditional Mexican songs. Personally, I thought that was a nice touch. At one point, I asked Brian if he could discern what they were singing, but he said no. No matter. Their music was enjoyable to listen to, whether I understood the lyrics or not.

As we were led to our table via a meandering path, the host talked over the noise overhead to tell me that we needed to “close out” after finishing eating before we could participate in the activities. He told me that the puppet shows were at 15 and 45 minutes after the hour—and pointed out that the nachos were especially good.

After we were seated at a table for two, our waitress explained that we should raise the flag sitting atop our table if we needed her attention. So, she took our diet Coke drink orders and left us to peruse our menus.

I decided on the Carnitas Nachos since they’d been so highly recommended by the host. The description made them seem very appetizing, but the reality of my meal was disappointing. Although attractively presented on the plate, my meal was nothing to write home about. My opinion is that in order to have excellent nachos—no matter what kind they are—a cook should start with fresh, light, and crispy tortilla chips. (Think: On the Border brand. Those are my favorite tortilla chips.) Without those, nachos lack a good base upon which to build. Additionally, the shredded pork and queso blanco were cold. Although light, creamy, and fluffy, the queso was unpleasant to eat because it wasn’t even warm. Furthermore, the salsa tasted more like canned diced tomatoes that had been dumped atop the heavy, stale-tasting chips. Fresh cilantro had been sprinkled over the tomatoes, seemingly as an afterthought. For Mexican cuisine, these menu items lacked the rich, robust flavors I expected. Instead, everything was utterly bland and not enjoyable. Needless to say, I didn’t finish eating my food.

After the entrée, it was time for sopaipillas. I was really looking forward to those, but even the honey that was drizzled over them couldn’t save them from being too bland. The dough probably should have been rolled in a cinnamon-sugar blend prior to frying in order to make the sopaipillas deliciously memorable.

I had read a couple of blurbs about Casa Bonita prior to our visit and took the reviewers at their word that the food was good. One reviewer even went so far as to claim that the food had vastly improved following the big remodel and that a James Beard-nominated chef had revamped the menu. Uh, if what we were offered was an improvement, then I would have hated to try out what the restaurant had served previously. Yes, I may sound harsh, but the food really was that disappointing.

After attending a mildly funny puppet show; watching the divers entertain us; walking through a dark, twisting tunnel that felt like being at the Mount Timpanogos cave; having a balloon artist craft a cute, pink cat for me and a blue daisy for Brian; listening to a lone guitarist performing from atop a balcony; visiting the arcade that featured a mechanical version of an Atari Pong game; seeing the jail; strolling through the Gold Mine seating area; seeing an artist sketching caricatures in an alcove; visiting the two gift shops; and peering at the items in the small museum, it became obvious that the big draw is the novelty of the décor and the variety of the entertainment, and not lunch or dinner. About those gift shops: The merchandise included T-shirts, sweaters, knit hats/toques, Christmas ornaments, wooden clackers, striped spinning tops in bright colors, mugs, and many other cheaply made items. Although I loved the texture of one pink and cream sweater in particular (it was SO soft!), I passed on buying it because of the hokey pattern on it. Bummer.

Truthfully, there was so much going on because of the music; happy, chattering patrons; kids laughing and screaming in delight, etc., that I was literally on sensory overload and didn’t know which way to turn. Brian seemed to delight in noticing every new gag and attraction, but for me, the excess made it hard for me to relax and enjoy my surroundings. As a result, I missed out on having my face painted or getting my Tarot cards read. Regretfully, I also passed on having our photo taken while “breaking apart” the stretchy jail bars. Unfortunately, we were also unable to attend the Insanely Mysterious Sorsoro show because it was already filled to capacity. Plus, I was fatigued and had reached my limit. All I wanted to do was head back to our hotel rather than wait around any longer to take advantage of the other activities.

So, go to the Casa Bonita for the theme-park vibe that makes you completely forget that you’re at a strip mall for your entire visit, but do not expect any culinary delights because they are sorely lacking.

He said:

It’s true that Casa Bonita was located in a strip mall, between a Cici’s Pizza and a Ross store. However, it hardly blended in with the other retail establishments. For one thing, its garish pink stucco immediately drew the eye. Plus, its cupola rose far above the surrounding buildings and featured a patinaed statue of the Aztec emperor Cuauhtémoc atop its golden dome. A fountain sat in front of the entrance, water cascading down three tiers into a small pool.

We arrived about ten minutes before our appointed time and were immediately allowed to enter, where we waited in a line for only a few minutes before a host led us to our table. The moment we walked through the front doors, we entered an immersive environment that let us completely forget we were in a suburban strip mall.

The line to the reception hostess felt like a 19th-century street in Mexico. A flower shop had a display of blossoms, rivalled only by the colors of the building behind it. Bright pink, orange, and yellow stucco walls held arched windows with colorful curtains and an arched doorway with a bright blue door inlaid with intricate, colorful patterns on its panels.

Many scenes and tableaus like this filled the entire space. I found interesting details everywhere I looked.

We had reserved Premium Seating, so our host led us up a curving ramp to an upper level where we could sit near a grotto with a waterfall. The space was dim, lit primarily by pinprick starlights in the black ceiling and occasional lampposts along the winding walkways that connected the various pockets of dining areas. Plenty of artificial trees, mostly palm trees, rose to the ceiling. From our table, we could see several other dining areas, each themed a bit differently. Some were atop balustraded balconies. Others were in rooms with sconced walls and ceilings supported by columns. Later, we would discover yet more dining nooks in rocky caves and even inside a gold and silver mine. Besides the sounds of a live Mariachi band, we could hear the ever-present rush of the nearby waterfall, croaking frogs, and chirping crickets. Midway through our meal, the lights dimmed even further and red lights flashed, while a deep peal of thunder rumbled for several moments. A light fog hung in the humid air, which carried a slight scent of chlorine. Honestly, to me it all felt reminiscent of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland.

Admission to Casa Bonita requires a reservation made in advance. A flat price provides admission to the facility and a meal that includes chips and salsa, an entrée, soft drink, and their famous sopaipillas. Alcoholic beverages, guacamole, and desserts are available for additional purchase. Admission allows patrons to watch cliff divers, interact with roaming characters, tour exhibits within the facility, get creations from the balloon artist, have their faces painted, and view performances including magic shows, a puppet show, and the Insanely Mysterious Sorsoro.

We were allotted time to eat before given leave to explore the space for ourselves. The dining portion of our visit was efficient and quick, though not rushed. We began with chips that were heavy and over-crisp, served with a creamy, mild salsa. For my entrée, I chose Betty’s Burrito, stuffed with rice, beans, cheese, and green chile brisket, and topped with green chile, pico de gallo, queso fresco, and crema. It came with a side of slaw, which they called a cabbage salad, that included radishes, tomatoes, and some jalapeños that were inexplicably devoid of heat. The slaw had a slightly tangy dressing that I enjoyed, though I think I would have enjoyed it a bit more if it had been cold. For that matter, the burrito would have been better if it had been hot. I got the impression the kitchen was simply rushing a lot of orders through as quickly as possible.

We completed our meal with the famous sopaipillas, made with honey drizzled over deep-fried bread dough, though I think ours were missing the dash of cinnamon. When we finished, our waitress released us to take a self-tour of the facilities.

Every twenty minutes—like clockwork—a couple of divers would show up on a ledge near the top of the waterfall. A spotlight and an announcer would call everyone’s attention to the preening divers, who would then dive into the small pool below. Sometimes they would somersault or twist, or maybe even begin with a handstand. After a couple of plunges, they would bow to applause and disappear until their next presentation.

Unsure where to begin, we arbitrarily picked a direction and led ourselves on a tour. Every bit of the space was filled with something to see. Near our table, the walkway led us into a tunnel with rough rock walls. Fake bats—at least, I assume they were fake—hung from the ceiling. In places, water seeped from holes in the wall and cascaded into small pools. One small alcove held a grotesque: a snouted, winged figure with glowing red eyes, standing above a base laden with lit candles. It was all very eerie and evocative.

We found our way to a small arcade that included an old-fashioned shooting gallery and a root beer bar. We attended a comedic puppet show. A balloon artist made a cat for Kathy and a daisy for me. We saw animatronic skeletons and found a fortune-telling parrot, though the parrot was out of order. A gift shop had hats, shirts, and sweaters, as well as a few toys, though it seemed remarkably low-key and didn’t have as much merchandise as I had expected. A small museum showed us a history of Casa Bonita.

Overall, I was impressed with the complete immersiveness of the experience. Every square inch of the 52,000 square-foot facility was made to look like a Mexican fantasy. If we took the time to look carefully, we would be rewarded with nooks and crannies filled with detailed décor and imaginative visuals. It’s no wonder to me that one of South Park’s characters called it “the Disneyland of Mexican restaurants.”

Conclusion:

There's a lot going on here. Brian delighted in discovering all the sights and sounds, but Kathy was a bit overloaded by it all. Still, it's easy to see why generations of fans have marveled at its wonders. Casa Bonita offers an unmatched dining experience that is honestly a bit hard to describe.