The quaint little Mexican village – nestled on a starry night with brave cliff divers, a mariachi band and palm-lined streets – seems as kitschy as it is surreal to a first-time Casa Bonita visitor.

I entered as a skeptic but left behind a fan.

Not because of the food. I wouldn’t go that far.

Having never eaten at the “Disneyland of Mexican restaurants” before South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone bought Casa Bonita out of bankruptcy for $3.1 million in 2021, I have no frame of reference. While I don’t know first hand how bad the food used to be, I understand that “horrible” is an apt description.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t live up to expectations.

As my friend Eliska Valko said, “Being from Texas, I have standards.”

So much has been said about the terrible food that, if I’m honest, I was a little nervous. My fears were compounded by our waitress, who told of the guest who filed a $596 medical bill after eating at the legendary restaurant in the late ’90s.

Don’t you believe her?

The handwritten bill is kept behind a glass display case in the restaurant museum.

I think it’s important to note that as a Texas girl, I’m a die-hard Tex-Mex fan, so it doesn’t take much to disappoint me.

Other than that, the food was edible – although the enchiladas were so tough that I had trouble cutting them with a knife. That didn’t stop my friend David Musgrave from finishing his plate with Christmas enchiladas topped with red and green chili sauce.

In my opinion, the hostess said it best: “The food is better than it used to be, but still not the main attraction.”

The Sopapillas were the real winners.

“They’re still on the right track,” Musgrave said.

Personally, I would have preferred if the waitress had left us a jar of honey and sprinkled the honey on top Sopapillas with powdered sugar, but maybe that’s just my opinion.

“The Mexico vacation we wanted”

The quick service and food delivery was surprising, but not nearly as amazing as what I experienced last week when we had lunch in one of the private villas at the top overlooking the cliffs. Casa Bonita used to use Cheez Whiz in its dishes.

Pooh.

I haven’t been this outraged since I learned that the original Philly cheesesteak also contained fake cheese balls.

Landing a seat at the Casa Bonita table proved difficult – if not impossible – for most, with frustrating comparisons to buying Taylor Swift during the Eras Tour or Super Bowl tickets.

But that will soon change.

After more than a year of hosting invitation-only dining, Casa Bonita is now accepting public reservations for October and beyond. However, social media reports say demand has overwhelmed the restaurant’s reservation system with long queues and technical glitches.

Without Eliska and Josie Valko – the lucky winners of the restaurant’s terrible lottery system – I would still be waiting for Casa Bonita’s immersive experience.

Given the clamor over limited seating, imagine my surprise when I discovered the restaurant was littered with empty tables.

That remains a headache. A spokesman for Casa Bonita declined to comment.

The available seats don’t even take into account the table constantly occupied by Eric Cartman, the foul-mouthed leader of the “South Park” boys. (Yes, we ambushed him.)

In the days before the COVID-19 pandemic, the restaurant had about 5,000 visitors a day.

Today, that number is closer to 3,000, employees said.

There are other notable changes, not just the reservation system. Tips are expected to come back, and rumor has it that chef Dana “Loca” Rodriguez will add chicken tinga and nachos on the menu.

What I loved so much – especially when we added the colorful flower leis – was the vacation feeling that Casa Bonita had to offer. (And before you give me grief about the Hawaiian floral wreaths: the dancing gorilla got it!)

“It’s the Mexican vacation we wanted,” said Eliska Valko.

Musgrave didn’t let on: “We didn’t even have to pack a suitcase.”

“Get our money back”

Three days before we wound our way through the line to the entrance that took me to Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean, our group watched the documentary “¡Casa Bonita Mi Amor!” (One employee joked that she had never seen Johnny Depp there.)

I’m so glad we did this.

In just 88 minutes, we witnessed the $40 million transformation – the original budget was $6.5 million – from a 52,000-square-foot deathtrap “with 30 years of deferred maintenance” to Casa Bonita 2.0.

As the costs of the remodel piled up, it looked like the South Park duo would abandon the project.

“Let’s give this back and get our money back,” Stone joked.

They didn’t, and Denver residents still have this piece of their childhood today because Parker had a crazy little dream of holding on to his own childhood memories as he roamed the labyrinthine hallways of Casa Bonita.

“This is about children,” Parker said.

Casa Bonita opened in 1974 in an old Joslin’s department store in Lakewood as part of a chain of Mexican entertainment restaurants founded in Oklahoma City.

As we pull into the parking lot, I notice that Casa Bonita is in a strip mall with a Dollar Tree, a coin laundromat, and Planet Fitness.

Josie Valko joked that we should have gone to Cici’s Pizza instead.

South Park’s remodel maintains the restaurant’s cheeky authenticity, inspired by the cliff-diving attraction in Acapulco, Mexico. It also features many of the gold-digging characters the Denver community loves so much, including Black Bart and the Dancing Gorilla.

However, if you look closer, you’ll see that the dancing gorilla is actually ManBearPig. The character comes from a South Park episode in which former Vice President and climate activist Al Gore tries to warn everyone about a creature called “ManBearPig,” an allegory for global warming.

We spent hours winding our way through what should be called a Mexican theme park, with food, a puppet show that adults can enjoy, and a stop at the arcade’s shooting gallery where we watched a magic show. We even sat in on a taro card reading with a real pro who has been reading cards for a decade.

Josie Valko described the upgrade, and I agree, as “Vegas for kids.”

“I’m overwhelmed,” said Josie Valko, who remembers Casa Bonita’s run-down days. “It looks different than I remember, in a good way.”