100 Years of The Sink

Assuming ownership of a longtime college hangout sounds like a tricky proposition, especially if you’re just barely out of college yourself. Yet Mark Heinritz, his brothers Chris and Jim, and their friend Cameron Stainton — all in their mid-20s in 1992 — felt up to the challenge of running The Sink, the venerable Hill institution just steps from the CU campus.

“Growing up in Connecticut, we appreciated history, and we understood The Sink’s role in �鶹ӰԺ,” he said. “Though it wasn’t until we were meeting people every day, whom it meant so much to, that we knew we could be stewards, taking care of the millions of memories that live here.”

The Sink is �鶹ӰԺ’s oldest restaurant, celebrating 100 years in 2023. After 30 years, Heinritz and his partners are forever part of its history, making their own mark on it while also tracing the footsteps of the many owners who came before them.

Growing Up with The Sink

I was singing the CU fight song before I was singing nursery rhymes.

Caryl Segawa (A&S’67) will always cherish her memories of The Sink. She grew up there — literally, since she was only four when her parents, John and Pauli Pudlik, bought the place in 1949. For years, she’d walk there after school, chow down on her favorite grilled cheese, then maybe take a nap under the desk in the office.

Just as Sink regulars were known as “Sink Rats,” she was the “Sink Brat,” and it wasn’t until years later that she realized how lucky she’d been to experience such a unique childhood.

“I was singing the CU fight song before I was singing nursery rhymes,” said Segawa, whose father and Uncle Ed played football at CU in the ’30s and ’40s. “And all those students looking out for me … It was heaven for a little girl.”

Kevin Fitzgerald’s (EPOBio’73; MBio’78; PhD’82) Sink experience was just as unique — and it began on just his second day at CU, in 1969.

“I was approached and asked if I wanted to be a bouncer,” he said. “I was told I’d get $1.69 an hour and a free burger each shift, and that I’d meet more girls than Frank Sinatra.”

The Hill was a “truly magical place” at the time, he said, and The Sink drew a mixed crowd of fraternity and sorority members and “long-haired hippies,” all taking advantage of the nickel-beer specials and 35-cent burgers.

“We had political things going on, like Vietnam and Nixon, and all these social issues, like women’s rights,” he said.

Somer’s Sunken Gardens

It was amazing to finally get to go in after hours and see the remnants of a life that was so mysterious to me.

The Sink opened in 1923 as Somer’s Sunken Gardens, in the former Sigma Nu fraternity house. Named for the sunken fountain in the middle of the dining room — from which diners could apparently choose their own trout for dinner — it was nicknamed “The Sink.” After the Pudliks took over, they decided the nickname should be the official name instead. Then they made another very important change: Though �鶹ӰԺ was still “dry” at the time, 3.2 beer wasn’t considered to be alcohol. So the Pudliks began pouring brews — and the students came pouring in, too.

In 1956, they sold the business to Joe Beimford and Floyd Marks. In 1960, Herbie and Gilda Kauvar — Marks’ sister — took over the business, and kept the menu, which featured the now-famous Sink Burger and its signature hickory Sink Sauce.

What Rick Kauvar (EPOBio’75) remembers most about those early days when his parents took over the business was that the beer sales made it an 18-and-older establishment.

“I was eight, and I had to sit out in the car and watch all the college kids going in and out all those years,” he said. “It was amazing to finally get to go in after hours and see the remnants of a life that was so mysterious to me.”

Once they were old enough, Kauver and his brother Jim (Mktg’79) spent afternoons and evenings working there, which Jim said he’ll always remember as “an important part of our family’s history.”

Upon taking over the restaurant, Herbie and Gilda hired artist Llloyd Kavich (who also redid the walls in 1989) to redo some of the classic, circa-1950s artwork with an “age of Aquarius” theme. Most importantly, they continued fostering an atmosphere of community and a place for students to gather, with nonstop music blaring from the jukebox.

“Only happy songs were allowed,” said Fitzgerald.

In the mid-’70s, though, the bubble burst. The Hill, a hub of “flower power” counterculture activity in �鶹ӰԺ, began drawing people interested in living alternative lifestyles. New businesses opened up to cater to their needs and wants, offering things like vintage clothes, bell bottoms, leather vests and incense.

“It made it impossible for students to really keep enjoying The Sink the way they had for all those years,” said Rick. “My dad had to make a change or he would have lost it completely.”

Alongside the neighborhood changes, business began to decline as shoppers gravitated toward the new stores and new types of restaurants. As sales lagged at The Sink, Herbie switched tactics and opened Herbie’s Deli with faster counter service and sandwiches. He kept the Sink Burger on the menu, but covered up the iconic art with pine boards. He thought The Sink would be forever forgotten, but he was wrong. For years, Rick and Jim urged their dad to bring it back, and much to the delight of Sink Rats everywhere (including Fitzgerald), they finally did in 1989, uncovering the artwork and adding a full bar.

The Sink Today

Though Heinritz admits they had “a lot to work with,” they’ve also made a few changes in the past 30 years.

When we bought it, he said to me, 'You'd have to be a real idiot to screw this up.'

“We kept the menu we inherited and let it morph over time, like adding ugly crust pizza, formulated in my own kitchen,” he said. They also introduced the now-famous Buddha Basil Pie — famous enough, in fact, to attract the likes of from Diners, Drive-ins and Dives (2010), (2012) and Anthony Bourdain (2013), all of whom signed the classic “wall of fame.” There’s also Robert Redford (A&S ex’58; HonDocHum’87), The Sink’s most famous employee, who worked there as a janitor in 1955. He makes sure to visit whenever he’s in town and was even put to work once.

Though The Sink hasn’t changed much visually over the years, it has a decidedly different vibe today than in the ’70s. It used to come to life at 10 p.m. — now that’s closing time, and it’s not the same type of crowd.

“As �鶹ӰԺ evolved away from being a party school and liquor laws tightened, we started leaning into the culinary side of it, wanting to build a reputation built around food and community,” explained Heinritz.

Still, the restaurant’s connections to CU remain unbreakable. “We get students and faculty coming in before and after football games, during the Conference on World Affairs and other big events.” Heinritz said. “But we also see business people and young families. When I meet someone who has never been in, who thinks they’re too old, I say, ‘Just come in and give it a try,’ and they’re always surprised.”

As for the Heinritz brothers’ success in keeping The Sink’s legacy alive, Mark Heinritz gives some of the credit to Herbie.

“When we bought it, he said to me, ‘You’d have to be a real idiot to screw this up.’ That became our guiding light.”