It might not have “where everybody knows your name” status—yet—but the Halcyon hotel’s newish eatery, Local Jones, is certainly a fresh take on familiarity. Adjacent to the hotel’s lobby, the restaurant replaces the sleek, nightlife-oriented Departure, which shuttered after Sage Hospitality sold the Halcyon to Rockbridge Capital in early 2019.

Local Jones
Photo by Jimena Peck

Debuting in July after a months-long delay caused by the pandemic, Local Jones exudes a sophisticated-yet-approachable style. “There’s a residential feel,” says Justin Fields, senior vice president of restaurants, bars, and retail at hospitality firm Makeready, which manages the Halcyon. From the comfy plush sofas to the retractable garage doors that allow guests to spill out onto the patio, each design choice “embodies the community we want to create,” Fields says.

A soothing color palette of forest greens, sky blues, warm golds, and light oak wood and millwork—all accented by brushed-brass bar fixtures and subtly bohemian rugs—creates an ambience that evokes a supper club from a bygone era, but made current with an infusion of hip elegance. It’s “equal parts forward-thinking modernism and retro forms,” says Greg Bradshaw, co-founder of prestigious international design firm AvroKO. Deliberate details add a richness to the neighborhood feel. “We placed the bar in a line of sight from the lobby, creating an instant welcome moment,” Bradshaw says. “Different seating types [think: midcentury-style sofas and chairs, cocktail and bistro setups, and leather barstools] in the same room allow guests to [experience everything] from a daytime café feel to a nighttime lounge feel.”

Ultimately, the decor reflects the easygoing quality and simplicity of the Local Jones menu, which is full of locally sourced menu items such as Colorado trout schnitzel and half-rack of Colorado lamb, as well as a variety of upscale takes on comfort-food classics like roasted half-chicken with lavender butter. “What evokes memories of comfort? It’s not deconstructed dishes, or inedible garnishes, or negative space on a plate,” Fields says. “Clearly, we know what we’re not.” We’d argue that they know what they are, too—and we can’t wait to cozy up in a space so sure of its place in the game.