About Us

Rich in History

Somewhere between a slider and a full-size burger is one of Columbia’s greatest masterpieces. A glorious, juicy, little delicacy topped with only onions, pickles, ketchup, and mustard, served humbly on wax paper. Best paired with a soft drink or a Busch, and best enjoyed while watching a baseball game on a spring afternoon.

Welcome to Booches, the only place in the country where you can devour a burger this delightful. The only pool hall in Columbia where you’re treated like a regular as soon as you walk through the door. And one of the only establishments in the city that transports you back to simpler times. 

Born on January 9, 1867, Paul Bucher Venable got the nickname “Booche” from soon-to-be poet Eugene Field, who decided “Bucher was no nickname for a little boy.” At the age of 18, Paul opened Booches at 706 E. Broadway in 1884 as a gentleman’s billiards hall which barred liquor, gambling, and women. Between 1884 and 1896, Booches bounced between three locations in downtown Columbia.

Paul earned the title of “the students’ friend,” as Booches was a prime spot for MU men to gather, play snooker and billiards, and share stories. According to his obituary published in The Columbia Evening Missourian in 1912, Paul attended one Missouri vs. Kansas away football game with $500 in his pocket, and left without a cent after helping a variety of MU students who needed a bit of cash to get home. Thoe around Paul recalled that, “many times he has helped financially students whom he did not know personally,” his obituary states, “he was always ready to help anybody in trouble.”

At the age of 46, Paul passed away in a St. Louis hospital due to complications from a gallbladder surgery on September 12, 1912, leaving behind a widow and three children. A year before his passing, his business had moved to the second floor of the Virginia building on S. 9th Street (above where the Mud Room and Tiger Spirit currently reside). Paul conducted Booches in a specific manner, “many times advising students to spend less money and time with him, and to give more of their time to their schoolwork,” according to his obituary.

In 1925, Leonard and Earl Morris purchased Booches, and the following year the pool hall moved to its sixth and current home at 110 S. 9th Street. Coining itself as the place “Where friends meet friends,” Booches attracted mainly college students up until about the end of WWII. Around this time, the establishment began to see an older community of men who came to play pool and reminisce with their buddies. Advertisements in Columbia newspapers stated, “When the old boys come back, they come to Booches, because Booches was here in their day.”

Additionally during this time, Booches began serving food. According to an article in the March 1976 issue of Missouri Alumnus, Booches “used to keep a big boiled ham standing on the counter and you could get a ham sandwich custom-sliced.” Though it’s not clear when they began selling the little burgers Columbia loves, photos of Booches in the 1940s begin to show a flat-top grill behind the bar.

Until 1956, Booches remained under ownership of the Morris family. Born and raised in Boone County, and former pitcher for the 1924 St. Louis Browns, Edgar Barnhart purchased the 9th Street business. Under his ownership, Ed began allowing Black men to enjoy the pleasures of Booches as patrons, not just employees. 

Booches remained a mens-only establishment until 1974, when college friends Jerry Dethrow, Bob Rappold, and Mick Jabbour came together and bought the place. Looking to attract a younger crowd, the trio decided to allow women to eat, drink, and play in the space. Quoted in an article by The Missourian, Bob stated, “Our mainstay is the older crowd, but we want to attract new people who appreciate the atmosphere and can carry on the tradition.”

As former creative writing students with a shared love of poetry and literature, Jerry, Bob, and Mick published the first Review La Booche, a nationwide literary magazine featuring short stories, poems, photography, drawings. The magazine saw five issues, including its final in 1990.

Bob and Mick left the business in 1990, leaving Jerry Dethrow the sole owner of Booches. Bob and his wife opened Café Europa on Walnut Street, and in 2010 he passed away in a house fire. Mick went on to own Murry’s in the mid 1980s (naming the restaurant after a Booches customer who frequented the snooker tables).

The three friends made Booches into the restaurant Columbia knows today. Current owners, Charlie Kurre and Rick Robertson bought Booches from Jerry in 2004. Charlie stated in a 2013 article for Bearing News, “before…[Mick, Jerry, and Bob] bought Booches, there were two more pool tables in here and it was pretty much a men’s club, not a lot on food.” He credits the friends for taking out two of the pool tables, getting a bigger grill, and adding more dining tables.

Since Charlie and Rick took ownership, Booches has not seen much change. The restaurant still only accepts cash, prides itself in its original pool tables bought in 1914, and continues to uphold the rules of “No spitting, no cursing, no lying (fish stories excluded!).” The ornate, carved wood bar built in Moberly and transported from its original location in the Virginia building still stands. Cardinals baseball games play on the flat screen TVs, which are the only modern touch Charlie and Rick have added. Regulars, MU students, and visitors frequent the tables and bar stools at lunchtime.

Booches is more than a burger joint. It’s the kind of place you take a guy on your first date to test his pool-playing skills. It’s where you go to celebrate Mizzou wins and KU losses. It’s your favorite bar, not because of fancy drinks and modern fare, but because of the atmosphere and company. It’s a table and chairs from the 1970s under neon lights and memorabilia that you swear you’ve sat in before, even though it’s your first visit. It’s a couple rounds between old friends reminiscing on college days. Booches is more than a place. Booches is a culture.

We agree with former owner Bob Rappold when he said, “Booches is one big lyrical poem. Just look around.”