Have you ever experienced Casa Bonita in Denver, Colorado? He owns the boundaries of Denver and has been in business for nearly thirty years. You will have heard this mentioned on TV if you are a fan of South Park. That might give you a “clear idea”, as it did for me, that it would be fun to check it out if you were in the area. My advice? Don’t go.
Casa Bonita is the “Disneyland” of restaurants. It comes complete with cave walls and sliding walkways that give a distinct feeling of going through an amusement park. line to ride board It is also the same Log Jam fog excuse into the air! (or perhaps it originates only from a waterfall and a large pool where they ask for “different rocks”.
There’s an arcade enclosed within a cavernous building, along with various other things that entice kids up their parents’ sleeves to take them to Casa Bonita (like Cartman in South Park): a cotton-candy is the area where the artist draws those dorky little caricatures of people who later don’t know why in the world they bought it, or. an occasional doll show, a gift shop full of toys and novelties, etc. Riotous “shows” are usually aimed at kids, such as “Chiquita’s Angry Gorilla” scat or “fighters” bickering and throwing each other. Then there are the “various rocks” and the mariachis performing, neither of which were there during our visit.
While sometimes great (show me a cowgirl who can shoot silently), it’s actually not an unpleasant atmosphere. (Perhaps this is why we all enjoy amusement-parks”>ami in our lives. The restaurant has an open and airy dining area There are 30-foot high ceilings, so they’re a great building, and they’ve done a good job of making it fun for kids. i>
We’ve all had dining experiences where something wasn’t quite tasty or cooked to our liking, etc. This was not like it. At Casa Bonita my fiance and I were really afraid we would get sick if we took our meals. The food looked bad, and certainly nothing even remotely like “great Mexican food”, which they say – writing! (they also say “it’s a very nice place to eat. Denver!” Blech!) Now it was clear that we could be to find our worshipers, who returned the inedible dishes in vain. To prove the theory, my bride’s plate was a double one your anger, double your fun.
I don’t know what the two separate and toxic faces were, full of thin, cheese-colored liquid that had been poured over what was underneath, but it was also a scary looking case of eating. This was Bart Simpson, the pull-a-three-eyed-fish-out-of-the-pool kind of “CREEPY” I’m talking about here. The rice was not Mexican rice, or something more along the lines of rice pilaf. Not only that. We figured we were safe enough to eat the small, greedy little scoop that was counted on our plates. Since the bowl of rice was so small, one can thankfully see the monstrous liquid and whatever dangers lay beneath it.
Even the chips and salsa were bad! And weird! I hardly ever really found it to be true anyway! (I don’t like what kind of cookie – it’s hard to find.) Whatever substance the chip was made of, he had never tasted it before in his life. (Soylent Green??) The sauce was amazing and I’ve never experienced anything like it it before or . Its viscosity was indescribable, and certainly nothing like it in the world of salty brands. The bundle of Taco Bell hot sauce has been recovered since 1972 and has fallen beyond the limits (or beyond) of whatever curiosity lay. in that salty dish.
But wait, there’s more! Part of the beauty is that their meals are “all you can eat!” WOW!! I’m a deal lover, but “inedible” backed up by “all you can eat”…hmm. It was a wonderful offer, but one that I found more than I could refuse.
It was a night of all new experiences, but completely lacking that would fall into the “amazing” category. The words “too cheap” (and again “bad” come to mind. (“Bad” is aptly described for the neighborhood, like, well, miserable.) If you want your kids to receive. /a> and a cardboard box serving pancake bakery just won’t fly with them; if you find yourself pressured to go, then maybe some green Soylent (what they call “chips”) and soda (for straws) in the turntile and it is omitted, they eat that “meal” in the doorway.
“Turnstile” you say? Yes, the gate. I guess I was so consumed that we couldn’t eat our lunches because there was some last information left on the doorstep. You wait for the order in the line and put it with the turnstile (sticking to the amusement theme park, I think) . You stand with a storage tray to collect the food, the dining room, after which you show your table. Then, judging by what we have often heard in our country by the completely incomprehensible concept of “regulars”, you try to control the worker who sits you down to please bring you out from the back of the cave and place you. but one of the many tables, with a view of the water, so that “you are looking at a different rock.”
We found a strange dining experience in the beds across the restaurant after our first, non-cave sessions, they seemed to have an equal number of empty tables as they occupied. New. Do you need to hold a session staff in the cave to avoid being shunned? (Do people sit on staff at Disneyland?) I would have gladly given him two free meals and some 14-year-olds if I had known. As well, I believe, we were thoroughly tucked up in the back of the cave. That kept us from having anyone else witness the sheer mortification – and borderline terror – of what we found. After all, we were two adults sitting in caves, afraid of our food, and without children to criticize our preaching. Kind of like Grandpa having this really bad Grandpa-gas, but no dog to punish. O shame!
I have come to the simple conclusion that a good rule of thumb for a pleasant adult dining experience would be this: If you find yourself entering a restaurant and being presented with a counter where you should place your order, just turn around and leave. the building As the building goes out, the people.
