Casa Bonita looks like, well, as a writer for Westword aptly put it, "like Disney had [a love child with] Tijuana and left the goofy-looking bastard to fend for itself in a random strip mall on Colfax." His words--not mine. It is a bizarre--yet magical--place where (as their posters boast) one can observe daring cliff divers, enjoy strolling mariachis (who we always convince to sing a special birthday song--even when no one in our group is celebrating a birthday), witness exciting gunfights, explore underground caves, marvel at amazing magicians, dance with a Bermuda-short clad gorilla, and devour as many baskets full of the all-you-can-eat sopaipillas as possible! When we were younger, a visit to Casa Bonita was a treasured gift. Though we now recognize that the food has never been anything to write home about (the "piñata plate" consists of a shriveled corn tortilla "enchilada" covered in gloopy, lukewarm nacho cheese, a soggy taco shell with ground beef and wilted lettuce, and lard encrusted refried beans with beige fried rice), we still agree that the overall experience cannot be beat. So, last week, when One called and gave us the exciting news that she, Mr. One, and their adorable chillins had arranged to stop in Denver for the night, we knew in an instant that Casa Bonita was the only place to go!
