Restaurant Reviews

A note from the editor: The following is an original review from the "Casper Food Critic." The purpose of this review is to offer a single consumer's opinion about an establishment's food and service. At K2 Radio, we believe anonymity to be of paramount importance - this is to ensure that the Casper Food Critic receives the same quality food and service as any other customer... Read Mor

The Casper Food Critic Reviews the Platter River Restaurant, located off of I-25.

A note from the editor: The following is an original review from the "Casper Food Critic." The purpose of this review is to offer a single consumer's opinion about an establishment's food and service. At K2 Radio, we believe anonymity to be of paramount importance - this is to ensure that the Casper Food Critic receives the same quality food and service as any other customer. We encoura

As a young man, I remember the excitement generated by a certain establishment in Casper. Crowds would brave long waits and miniscule parking for a chance to taste some authentic and filling Italian food. I can remember standing outside as lines formed around Bosco’s Italian, nestled in a small corner of Casper. Wanting to recapture that fever, I decided to return after a hiatus of several years.

Like a candy wrapper caught in an updraft, I was swept down the highway at record pace. Swirling and twirling through the wild Wyoming wilderness, my destination was the remote outpost of Rawlins. A large project, over which I was lording, was coming to an end and it was now or never. While I don’t like to be away from my beautiful family, I do enjoy the ability to sample fare from all over this

A cold and windy day was laid out before us. As the snow fell, the critic crew loaded up and headed out, looking for something to warm our bones. As we circled town, we had the usual conversation. “Where do you want to go?” would fly from the backseat. A brave individual would reply with “Pizza” to which everybody would groan. After several attempts and awkward silences, somebody threw out “Mexica

The flying of fingers and moving of electrons. That is all it takes to both create and send a text message to anywhere in the world. As I sat in a silent classroom, that is exactly what I did. Those text messages flew through the air and into the cellular system, only to end up at the receiving end, my editor’s phone. I was inviting her on a lunch date. A few more digits typed and it was agreed. W

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Those immortal words spoken by every mother in the world reverberated through my brain as I drove toward my next assignment. On an almost forgotten patch of land, on the edge of mainstream Casper, sits a small place called Plows Diner.

As the clock struck 12’, I shot up from my chair. I normally have an open lunch break where I can mosey across town and select my eatery with care. Today however, I had exactly one hour. With gas pedal to the floor like a rocket at full throttle, I raced across town as if I were trying to escape Earth’s gravitational pull. HQ BBQ was my mission and no time constraint could abort this scientific en

Once again, my readers and eaters voted and sent me on another wild ride worthy of Mr. Toad himself. Today in my finest motorcar and driving goggles, the entourage and I were off to Monsoon Indian restaurant in downtown Casper.