JOHN ARNOLF0
AUTHOR · STORYTELLER · ENTREPRENEUR
A MEMOIR
The Silver Grill Cafe
An American Story and Counter Seat to Fort Collins History
John’s memoir, The Silver Grill Cafe: An American Story and Counter Seat to Fort Collins History, is about more than a beloved Colorado restaurant. It’s a story that begins with the immigration of his grandparents in 1914 and concludes with the sale of his restaurant in 2021.
Arnolfo recounts growing up with a protective mother whose worries about his safety often clashed with his adventurous spirit. After moving to Fort Collins to attend Colorado State University, he spread his wings by skydiving, bull riding, and buying his first sports car.
After graduation, adventure took him to Vail, Colorado, where he spent four years skiing in winter, bronc riding in summer, making lifelong friends, and tending bar for VIPs—including President Gerald R. Ford.
Once John decided to trade his skis for an apron, he and his former college roommate began searching—unsuccessfully—for a restaurant to buy, until they learned that the Silver Grill in Fort Collins was for sale. On February 14, 1979, the two became its owners and began a new chapter in the history of what would become a treasured Fort Collins institution.
With warmth, candor, and humor, Arnolfo shares stories of the unforgettable characters who ate, worked, dated, celebrated, and occasionally fought at the Grill over more than four decades. He reveals how risks, friendships, loyal customers, practical jokes, hard work, and now-famous cinnamon rolls helped transform him into a successful entrepreneur and the Silver Grill into a community icon. John’s book is filled with stories of colorful characters and is ultimately a celebration of family, good food, long friendships, and the community he calls home.
"I didn't set out to run a restaurant for forty-two years. I just kept showing up the next morning — and then the morning after that."
John Arnolfo
Excerpts
While my father ran the grocery store — and long before anyone had ever heard of Subway® — my mother started making sandwiches on “San Francisco Style” French rolls for 25 cents each. At first she offered three simple sandwiches: salami and American cheese, ham and Swiss cheese, and pepper loaf — all with a choice of mayo or mustard. In the early 1960s, long before Mom added roast beef to the menu and put lettuce, tomato, dill pickles, and onions on the toppings list, she came up with her “special sauce.”
That sauce was quintessentially my mother: practical and popular. In an upscale eatery today, a menu would describe it as “a remarkable fusion of savory ingredients.” Behind the Pick ‘N Pay counter, my mother mixed a gallon of generic mayonnaise with a gallon of just-as-generic mustard, and customers couldn’t get enough of it.
John’s mother, 1977
I remember well a woman who did her daily shopping at the Pick ‘N Pay Market. She lived in the neighborhood and always wore the same black-and-white checked jacket with wide sleeves. My dad knew she didn’t have a lot of money and suspected she did a little shoplifting while she shopped, but he looked the other way.
I will never forget him telling us about the day the woman extended her arm across the counter to pay him for her groceries, and a box of Lipton® Chicken Noodle Soup slipped out of her sleeve. Without missing a beat or saying a word, he gently slipped the box back into her sleeve and put her money in the register drawer. She continued to shop at the Pick ‘N Pay for years after that.
←John’s father, 1977
After all the guests were gone, President Ford escorted Mrs. Ford up the long staircase to their bedroom and returned to find me straightening the great room. He sat down in front of the roaring fire, kicked off his shoes, put his feet up, and said, “Now, son, pour me a real drink.”
When I asked him what he would like, he answered, “Gin on the rocks, two olives.” I made the drink, presented it to him with a “Mr. President, your drink,” and immediately went back to work. It was just the two of us in that room, and I wish I’d taken that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to talk one-on-one with a president of the United States
The crew at The Red lion with President Gerald R. Ford, 1975 →
I know how lucky I am that all those memorable and often unexpected events helped make running the Grill so much fun. But each year there was one day when we prepared in advance to have fun: Halloween. I often chose to dress up as a regular customer, and I’ll never forget the year I came to work as Milo Bohlender. Milo and his wife, Gwen, owned Bohlender Funeral Chapel and took their jobs seriously. But themselves? They loved a good joke — especially when it involved one of them.
On that Halloween morning, I put on a black suit and a tasteful tie. I added a Bohlender name tag and one of Milo’s toupees that Gwen had given me. She planned to arrive at the Grill before Milo and wait for him at a table near the back of the dining room.
When Milo walked in, I met him in the middle of the dining room. After casually adjusting my toupee, I reached out and solemnly shook his hand.
“Milo, thank you for being here. It’s so kind of you to come,” I said somberly yet loudly enough to be heard over the breakfast crowd’s racket. All the customers within earshot stopped what they were doing to watch my Oscar-worthy performance as a funeral director.
As I pretended to take Milo’s pulse, I continued, “My friend, you look remarkably young for your age, but, frankly, you don’t look so well.”
Milo was either playing along or too stunned to speak, because he stood still as I pulled a tape measure from my suit pocket and measured him from head to toe and around his midsection. As I put away the tape, I delivered the line that brought the house down: “Gwen, order an extra large.”
John (L) and Milo
The Silver Grill Cafe: An American Story and Counter Seat to Fort Collins History
One restaurant. Countless stories.
John describes the colorful characters, lifelong friends, and unforgettable events that transformed the Grill from an eyesore to a treasured community icon.