1000 Grant Street Denver, CO 80203 (303) 830-1000
Welcome to 1987.
I will tell you a secret, person who is reading this simply because you googled "eating out". I have known about this place for many years but have kept it under lock and key in my memory box until now. A friend of mine introduced me to this little gem when he and his lady friend stayed here in the early thousands during their Bat Boy The Musical, community theater trek across America. I joined them for the Denver production which they said was quite impressive, comparatively speaking. I don't normally do community theater, because it requires hanging out with the community, but obviously this was a necessary exception and totally worth it. PS before you get all mad because I don't do community theater, let's just get one thing straight. I am not intentionally shitting on your one true love. I don't mind so much the theater as I mind the fucking intermission. I don't do small talk under any circumstances and intermission is really just another word for - 15 miserably awkward minutes of small talk. So suck it.
Back to the Burnsley. It is amazing and glamorous inside even if, surprisingly dark. The mauve colored circular booths on one end are surrounded by tinted mirrors which remind me that the mid 80s really were kind of bitchin. As a child, this is the kind of hotel bar I fantasized I would someday find myself drinking a Grasshopper with the Joan Wilder. Ambiance alone makes it worth your while, but there is so much more. I can promise that you will not find a better happy hour drink special in town. Between 3 and 7pm each and every day of the year, The Burnsley offers all of their drinks at half price.
HALF PRICE YOU SAY!
It really does feel like 1987 when I only have to rip a couple of ones out of my pocket to purchase that strawberry daiquiri I have been dreaming about since lunchtime. And how pleasant, to purchase a beer under $3 that isn't a fucking PBR or High Life. Obviously this place isn't perfect, otherwise I would have never been able to slip inside, under the radar. The house is never packed. It is rarely even customered. In fact, the photo is pretty accurate as to what you will find when you walk in the door. No one. Just an empty piano saying hey lady, you should get drunk and play me later, like you used to in college until you were run off by angry fraternity boys. I prefer to use fraternity rather than frat so I can avoid some dumb motherfucker commenting "I don't call your country a cunt so don't call my fraternity a frat". People are gross.
Anyway, the food. The food is bad. Maybe even the worst. I have tried basically everything on the tapas menu by this point and I have yet to take a single bite of anything and said hmm, that is pretty good. Because it isn't. Not even a little bit tasty. You might as well go to Applebees and order whatever artichoke dip crappetizer is looking up at you from the menu. Bland and terrible. Terrible and bland. Those are the only two words I can think of to describe their tapas. But, on the bright side they are only $3. So pros and cons. Still, I fucking love this place and highly recommend it.
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