Iconic Patsy’s Italian restaurant is shuttered
Patrons heartsick as Northside gives way to Highland
Joyce Phillips sped up Navajo Street on Tuesday afternoon, ready to order her favorite meal at Patsy’s, the charming Italian restaurant that has anchored the Highland neighborhood for 95 years. She didn’t notice that employees were taking down the antique lace curtains and covering the windows with white paper.
Shortly after entering, she was back on the sidewalk, standing with her hand to her face, eyes filled with tears. “I’m devastated,” she said. Patsy’s closed Monday after 95 years in business. Many people didn’t know it had closed and showed up Tuesday for lunch, only to discover the iconic institution shuttered.
“These old Italian places are closing, and the heart and soul of the neighborhood is going,” said Richard Phillips, as the lunch group walked a few blocks over to Gaetano’s, an Italian restaurant that also opened early in the 20th century.
In their first interview since shuttering their beloved restaurant, owners Ron Cito and Kim DeLancey sat down at one of the tables to talk about their decision, a conversation punctuated with laughter and tears.
“I was hoping I could stay here until its 100th birthday, but due to health … I just can’t handle it anymore,” said Cito, whose great aunt, Maggie Tolve, opened the restaurant with her husband, Mike Aiello, in 1921.
But the grueling life of a restaurant owner has taken its toll, and the couple decided to retire to spend more time with each other and their family, including a newly born great-granddaughter they’ve not yet seen.
Cito started working at Patsy’s when he was 14 and took over the family restaurant 10 years ago with DeLancey.
“We are heartsick to give this up,” said DeLancey, wiping away tears. “But the neighborhood is changing, too, and maybe it’s time for us to step back and let the young generation take over and make their own memories.”
Fans of Patsy’s are not just mourning the loss of a vintage Italian eatery. They’re also sad about losing one of the last pieces of local history.
“In the 1970s and ’80s, that neighborhood was simply called ‘the Northside,’ and it was dotted with red sauce places like Patsy’s, Carbone’s, Gaetano’s, Pagliacci’s, Carl’s, Amato’s,” said restaurant consultant John Imbergamo. “One by one, relentless development has robbed us of ‘Sunday gravy’ and pasta, leaving behind a wake of designer pizza, seared octopus and clever neighborhood nicknames.”
Pagliacci’s was sold to a developer four years ago, Carbone’s Italian Sausage Deli closed a year before that, and the Northside is now called Highland.
Patsy’s is on a block with such art galleries as Zip 37 and Pirate Contemporary Art, which opened 34 years ago.
“I didn’t know they were closing, or I’d have been there at lunch that day,” said Phil Bender, who owns Pirate. “I love that old-school red sauce. You can’t beat it.”
Scott Huebl, who has been a fan for decades, was surprised by the news. He and his wife, Linda, had their first date there in 1974 and chose Patsy’s for their wedding rehearsal dinner. They’ve been regulars ever since.
“It was always jam-packed, and they had great homemade pasta,” Huebl said. “It was decorated very quaintly, a family Italian restaurant just like you might go to in Italy.”
Half the block is now highrise condos, but it was once the heart of North Denver’s “Little Italy.” Patsy’s is just up the street from Our Lady of Mount Carmel, which started in 1894 as a small frame church for Italian immigrants. The founders of Patsy’s, Mike and Maggie, were married there in 1896.
On closing day, photos of Maggie decorated the menu that proudly proclaimed Patsy’s as “Denver’s Oldest Italian Restaurant,” including a photo of her standing at the stove wearing an apron, dishing up a plate of spaghetti.
The owners said a large factor in their decision to sell is that the new owners have said they won’t demolish the building but will turn it into another restaurant.
“We just wish we could talk to everyone who’s ever come in the door and thank them, and go back over all the wonderful memories we shared,” DeLancey said. “There was just no time for that.”