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Why are Colorado restaurants so freaking loud? | Commentary

Noise in restaurants is the top thing people talk about when they talk about food

Food Writer Allyson Reedy
PUBLISHED: | UPDATED:
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Food, Honestly is a monthly column discussing how people actually eat right now – not through reviews or recipes, but through real talk about cost, convenience and everyday food decisions. We want you to participate in that discussion by telling us what matters to you. Email allysoneatsden@gmail.com to keep the conversation going.


I am sitting inside a Cherry Creek restaurant — at 5 p.m., mind you — and this is what I hear: the clinking of silverware against plates; somebody’s dinner hitting the flattop with a sizzle; the receipt printer spitting out orders; plates stacking; chairs scraping; and about 20 overlapping conversations. What I do not hear: my husband speaking (allegedly), only 2 or 3 feet away.

Noise in restaurants is the top thing people talk to me about when we talk about food. Not where to find the best taco or why dessert should be eaten after every meal (mental health matters), but where in Denver you can go to eat and still, you know, actually talk to your friend.

Why, we ask, are restaurants so freaking loud?

I decided to investigate, heading straight to Google — then remembering my middle-school-aged daughter’s insistence I switch to because she would like the planet to still exist when she’s my age — and Ecosia-ing how to measure a restaurantap noise level. The results kept pointing to an app called , a crowd-sourced decibel meter that measures and lists venues by volume.

I’ve never met a data point I didn’t like, and so I downloaded the app and got to work, recording and submitting my 15-second sound clips at every restaurant I visited. When I tap record, a number appears — the decibel level — which can be anywhere from 30 dB (very quiet) alone in my house to 80-something dB (loud enough to cause hearing damage over time) at that Cherry Creek restaurant. For context, a garbage disposal or blender clocks in at around 80 decibels.

The quietest spots I measured were two suburban pizza restaurants (64 dB each: one at lunch, one at 5:30 p.m.) and the two loudest were a Mexican restaurant (78 dB at 5:19 p.m.) and a Boulder pizzeria (75 dB at 5:49 p.m.)

Yes, I eat a lot of pizza, and yes, I eat early. These are not flaws; they are lifestyle choices.

The and, well, good luck with that. I never got a reading below 60 dB outside of my house. So whatap driving all this noise? Obviously, crowded rooms and restaurants pretending we’re there to hear the music are going to be louder, but what else contributes to the racket?

Architect Lauren Dundon, who’s worked on several Denver bars and restaurants, gave me a quick rundown on acoustics. The bottom line? Itap expensive to make a place quiet, and quiet doesn’t look cool.

Think about what causes sound to echo: high ceilings and hard surfaces. Now think about design trends, the modern, industrial-chic spaces with exposed ducts, cement floors, open kitchens and large, uncovered windows. Sound has nowhere to go but back at you, amplifying every clink and clatter until your reasonable-volume conversation doesn’t stand a chance. (Hopefully not at your communal table but, letap be honest, probably at your communal table.)

The sound-muffling fabrics, carpets, ceiling tiles, tablecloths and rugs that used to decorate restaurants are deemed too stuffy these days, and even upholstered booths are being replaced by more barebones tables — and lots of them, close together. Basically, today’s restaurants are built to be giant echo chambers.

Dundon told me that the single best way to minimize noise is with office-style ceiling tiles, but no one wants their hip tapas joint to look like Dunder Mifflin. Attractive ceiling treatments are expensive, and in an already expensive undertaking, they can be one of the first budget items to go.

Itap also a safety issue. Cheap, DIY-style soundproofing, like foam panels in ceilings, often doesn’t meet fire code and has been linked to some really tragic fires. Meaning cutting corners here isn’t just unattractive, itap also dangerous.

Another factor is that no restaurant owner wants their spot to be silent. They want it to sound lively and happening, like there are actually people inside having a good time. Of course, what one person considers “energetic” is another’s “I’m so annoyed that we’re now shouting over appetizers.”

So whatap a noise-averse diner to do come mealtime? While SoundPrint didn’t give me a ton of local data, it does offer a crowd-sourced map, so the more of us who are recording and submitting, the better that database should get.

You can also do a little visual sleuthing before you go. Look up photos of the restaurant you want to visit on Yelp or Google (or Ecosia!), as well as on social media. Scan for design elements like those high ceilings, hard materials and the type of seating. Remember that soft fabrics and low ceilings are more conducive to quiet than, say, a vaulted metal and cement warehouse.

The bad news, though, is that restaurants aren’t accidentally loud. They’re designed to be that way and will probably continue to function as sonic caverns so long as current aesthetics are in fashion. Or at least until more realize that dinner is not a spectator sport, and that the best sound at a restaurant is still the person sitting across from you.

Allyson Reedy is a Colorado-based freelance writer and author. 

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