News of Benny Blanco’s, an iconic New York-style pizzeria, ending its long-standing business run in East 13th Avenue prompted widespread dismay among its attendants. There is a lingering feeling of melancholy as this beloved spot winds down its services in Cap Hill, signaling the curtain fall of a significant time period. However, this melancholy shouldn’t be misinterpreted as a signifier of a greater calamity about to hit Denver.
Anytime a cherished establishment locks up one last time, the event is usually accompanied by an outpouring of sentimentality, regrets, and a dash of self-blame from long term residents. They express sorrow and remorse for their perceived lack of support. They wish they had dined there more often, ordered more of their famed extra-large pies, delightfully seasoned with garlic, all boxed up in some of the most appealing pizza packages the city has seen.
Some hold the city of Denver responsible, damning capitalism and the free-market economy, with others blaming ongoing urban issues such as homelessness, prevalent in most major cities nationwide. They find a controversial aspect in the political or societal scenario to blame. It’s easy to entertain such thoughts when Benny Blanco’s departure from the heart of Denver coincides with the Mercury Cafe’s imminent sale, and the relocation of the Mutiny Cafe to Englewood, all shortly after Tattered Cover’s sale transaction with Barnes & Noble.
A set of Denver locals are understandably shaken by these changes. Benny Blanco’s will officially cease operation on August 31. Primarily, those profoundly affected will be the populace who spent the better part of their lives on Denver’s streets, where Benny Blanco’s was not just a pizzeria but also a beacon of memories and stories.
Myriad emotions surface as we witness the familiar and adored elements of our surroundings vanish. There is a sense of dread coupled with disbelief, especially for those who once controlled and shaped these streets. It hurts and shocks when the places we expect to last forever start slipping away. Nothing remains constant, though, and nothing lasts infinitely, much like the gold in Ponyboy.
There is an unnerving revelation we often avoid: recognizing that we are no longer the primary audience of our city. This happens mostly when the ones who initiated, run, and potentially end up closing these beloved establishments are also advancing in years. The sense of accomplishment where once we took pride in flourishing despite the numerous roadblocks the streets presented; now seems like an incessant struggle.
This shift is evident in Benny Blanco’s decision to shutter its operations in Denver, which could be more accurately described as relocating to the suburbs. Holly Martinez, the owner, made it clear when she revealed her discomfort with the deteriorating conditions of the local area, primarily exacerbated by the homeless population. A case in point being her husband, Mike, who allegedly endured an assault and mace attack near their 13th Avenue pizza joint.
Like many families adjusting to changing circumstances and evolving priorities, Benny Blanco’s is migrating from Denver to a safer space in Arvada. They have already initiated this process by opening a new outlet there in June. It is an inevitable cycle, a regular occurrence in the story of a city’s evolution. Denver, too, has witnessed such transitions more often than its oldest citizens might remember.
This pattern isn’t new in Denver. Other such memorable moments include the closure of the Celebrity Sports Center, Cinderella City, and the disappearance of all the White Spot restaurants, including Tom’s Diner. The city has also felt the loss of Paris on the Platte, Dixons, Goodfriends, Racines, and the demise of The Market on Larimer Square. These transitions are major life events for some, while for others, especially newer residents, may lack any significant impact.
Speaking of safety in Cap Hill, the data contradicts popular beliefs. In reality, violent crimes in the area have declined. Denvercrimes.com reports more than a 25 percent reduction in crime rates in Cap Hill in 2024 compared to previous years. Furthermore, Cap Hill does not rank among the top twenty crime-ridden neighborhoods.
Thus, it isn’t so much the reality of the streets that has changed, but rather how they are perceived by the people who dwell and work in these spaces. The owners, who have been managing a bustling city-center pizzeria for nearly three decades, are exhausted by the recurring issues they have to deal with.
This move to the outskirts is tantamount to seeking a cleaner, better-lit neighborhood that promises a peaceful life, away from the unruly hustle of the city center, closer to their workplaces and children’s schools. Put simply, complaints of ‘the neighborhood is declining’ may be interpreted as a polite request for ‘the youngsters to respect the tranquility of my surroundings.’
Such a decision is ultimately personal, and we must respect the decision of the Martinez family, wishing them all the happiness they deserve. Surely, their dedicated patrons will follow them to their new location for their beloved Benny Blanco’s pizza.
Interestingly, despite the closure news, there appears to be interest for new pizzerias wanting to move into Benny’s vacated location. This doesn’t mark the end for Denver, but simply the subsequent interlude in its ever-adapting narrative, heralding the initiation of a new epoch.