Dining Review: The Cotton Bottom Inn

The Cotton Bottom Inn is a dark, relatively gritty hovel in the Salt Lake City suburbs that’s been around so long that many patrons’ parents used to drink there. It’s small, with only a handful of tables, but there is a jukebox and pool table to serve as entertainment for those who can’t appreciate watching the bikers, skiers/hikers, college students, high school students with fake IDs, construction workers, models, baby boomers, and 70-year-old geezers who come and go at the bar. If the dark, smoky and dive-like interior isn’t for you, sit outside and enjoy the sun or stars (it’s first come, first serve on seating, and there are no reservations).

There are always a few beers on tap: the Bud standards, and two or three local microbrews (the favorite of the regulars is the Wasatch Beers Hefe-Weizen). I’m certain there’s a menu, but I’ve never seen it, and neither have 90% of the locals who eat here. This is because in reality there’s only one thing to order at the Cotton Bottom Inn: The Garlic Burger (yes, that’s a proper noun, as The Garlic Burger is so fantastic as to warrant the grammatical plumage a proper noun brings). It comes with a side of chips, and paired with one (or two, or three) beers, it’s a full meal. It’s the best burger I’ve ever had, and I never come to Salt Lake without eating at least one.

And yes, you are supposed to enter through the kitchen.

Final rating: Four out of four stolen crab forks, unless you hate dives, can’t appreciate a place with character, or need the trappings of sophistication. If so, the food and beer are still four-for-four, but you’d hate the place anyway, so don’t bother going.