I Dove Into the Wacky Wonderland That Is Denver’s Casa Bonita – and I Kinda Loved It

Rising like a pink Phoenix above a strip mall in a seedy section of the Denver suburb of Lakewood, Casa Bonita stands as a rosy beacon that draws throngs of visitors – folks who come more for the experience than the food, really – to its doors. Shiny and new, this Colorado attraction experienced a literal rebirth in 2023 after a much-lamented demise.

Casa Bonita first opened its doors in 1974, and over the next almost half-century, it became a beloved institution to Front Rangers and visitors alike. Its position as a cultural icon was cemented in a 2003 episode of South Park, in which it was dubbed the "Disneyland of Mexican restaurants." Known for famously bad food – with the exception of its beloved sopapillas (we'll get to them later) – and increasingly threadbare kitsch, Fortuna spun down on Casa Bonita, and in 2020, as the COVID-19 pandemic cast its pall over the country, the restaurant entered bankruptcy and was shuttered.

The Power of Nostalgia

Casa Bonita's salvation came in the form of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, who held a deep-seated nostalgia for the restaurant. They purchased Casa Bonita for $3.1 million in September 2021, and prior to reopening in 2023, the duo had reportedly spent another $40 million renovating the eatery, including updates to the exterior and the addition of four new bars. It's one thing to have the means to undertake such a project, but it's a whole other thing to put so much into what is, essentially, a labor of love. But, I guess nostalgia is a powerful thing.

In fact, research demonstrates that periods of adversity – like the pandemic or increasingly divisive times – increase humans' desire to experience places, things, and even media that they enjoyed when they were younger. Although there's certainly some anticipation that they'll be able to recoup at least some of their expenditures, nostalgia is clearly a big part of what drove Parker and Stone to revive Casa Bonita – their 2024 documentary about the process, ¡Casa Bonita Mi Amor!, says as much.

Casa Bonita Redux

I didn't grow up in Colorado and had never visited Casa Bonita v1, so I don't share in the nostalgia that motivated Parker and Stone to sink a sizable chunk of their fortunes into the spot and that drove Denverites to queue up in... well, droves. But the hype around the reborn icon caught my attention, and my daughter happened to live in Lakewood, so as soon as the reservation books opened, we both started trying to get on the list.

After months of waiting (and frankly, kinda forgetting about it), we got an email inviting us to make a reservation at some point during an upcoming two-week window. As luck would have it, the window included a trip to Denver that I had already planned and coincided with my daughter's birthday. My Dad heart leapt, because (1) I finally had a chance to visit Casa Bonita with mi Hija Bonita, and (2) I no longer had to figure out what to do for her birthday (score!).

We left my nearby Lakewood hotel – the Fairfield Inn and Suites – and rolled into the parking lot on a Saturday night: It was packed. We eventually found a spot and then joined the check-in line for our time slot, which snaked around the fountain out front. And waited. It took 20 minutes or so until we were finally ushered through the security checkpoint (they're serious – be sure to read the fine print about what you can and can't bring in with you) and put in a snaking indoor line to place our food orders and be led to our seats.

Dinner and non-alcoholic drinks are included in the price of admission ($40 per person when we visited). You choose from a half-dozen or so entrée combos, then place your order in a buffet-style line and wait for a host to grab your tray of food and lead you to your table.

We followed our tray-laden host down a hallway and then out into the heart of Casa Bonita, a dark, cavernous room lined with faux cave walls, past a mariachi band, and around the edge of the palm-tree-lined pool where the "cliff" divers perform throughout the night, dodging other guests as we went. The experience felt less Disneyland and more like a mariachi-infused Midsummer Night's Dream, with the darkness, feasting, and dizzying cacophony of entertainment and decor in a labyrinthine space with no clear way out.

Once seated, a server took our drink orders, and we sat back to soak in the experience. In the interest of improving Casa Bonita's culinary reputation, Parker and Stone hired James Beard Award-nominee Dana Rodriguez to spiff up the menu. Our table of three had each ordered a different meal option. I had the beef suadero with green chiles; my daughter, carnitas tacos; and her friend, chicken mole. All came with rice and beans, a cabbage salad, and chips and salsa for the table. Although we had no baseline to say whether it had improved or not, my two companions and I thought the food was pretty good (especially given the volumes in which it had to be prepared for each nightly seating), with generous portions and a reasonable price point, if you consider the overall experience.

We had an excellent view of the action from our seats, and after our server brought us our much-anticipated sopapillas - deep-fried sweet dough sprinkled with sugar and drizzled with honey (no, we didn't raise the flag for more) – we grabbed our drinks and set out to explore. The first item on our agenda was to find a front-and-center spot for the next diving performance, which happens approximately every 20 minutes. It was definitely a spectacle and lived up to the expectation.

From the diving pool, we roamed from grotto to grotto, through ersatz caves and mine shafts, past bars, puppet shows, and more musicians. There's a game room—the Root Beer Cantina—for those so inclined, but we were mostly interested in the place itself and our fellow customers.

We also picked out a few nods to South Park, such as a roaming ManBearPig – whose hoofprint, is embedded in a cave floor and a glimpse of whom we just missed catching – as well as Eric Cartman's table. I'm sure we missed others, but by the time we'd had our fill of exploring, things were starting to shut down, and it was time to make our exit – through the gift shop, El Mercado, of course.

While I don't share the same nostalgia for Casa Bonita that Parker and Stone – and, presumably, a large number of their fellow Coloradans – do, there's something special here. Letting go of reality for a little bit and just enjoying an otherworldly adventure was certainly a treat, and maybe that sparked a little nostalgia in my middle-aged mind.

What really made the moment special for me was watching my twenty-something-year-old daughter revel in the experience, eyes wide and a smile on her face, like she was a young girl again. As a dad, sharing that kind of moment with my adult daughter definitely made me feel nostalgic for when she and her brother were little. So, I do kind of get the whole Casa Bonita thing after all.