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| - From time to time, it is inevitable. No one can ever be spared the experience of going to a chain restaurant, and quite frankly, sometimes there are hidden surprises out there. I'd like to go on record by saying this Buca di Beppo is one of them.
Immediately upon entering, I felt as though I'd been transported into a movie set. There were hundreds of pictures on the walls, each depicting some famous or wannabe famous person. There were wonderful pictures of the beautiful, stunning Sophia Loren that surely ignited scandal in the fifties. There were knick-knacks, tchotchkies, statues and signs everywhere, and it felt surprisingly uncluttered, like a grandmother's living room, each picture a memory long since forgotten but easily reminded.
And then there were the people -- To get to the dining room in the basement, you need to go through the kitchen, then down two flights of stairs. Every single person who saw our party walk through the kitchen said hello. And not in the way as to seem as if that it was something they had to say off a script. The cooks, the dishwasher, the cashier each said hello in different ways. We were greeted at the bottom of the stairs by a few servers in a warm and welcoming manner and I had never seen anything like it.
The manager was funny as well, joking with a patron who said he was full by replying "Good. We don't want you to walk to the car, we want you to do dishes and work it off so you're hungry again." Not a forced, rehearsed line -- something genuine from his own humor. I love to see that sort of interaction between people, especially when it catches one off guard.
I know what you might be thinking: Peter S., what about the food? Well, look: If you have an italian family, this may not be Grandma Willhemina's gravy and bread, but it's damn good. The meatballs were easily as big as my head (and my head is large in it's own right!) and the pasta was dressed perfectly -- there was just enough sauce for the noodles to be coated without dripping all over the plate, just enough to sop up with a piece of bread or three or four. The Chicken Parmesian was exquisite, the chicken cutlet tender and covered with baked mozzarella to form another kind of crust on the existing crust. The Lasagna? Oh, boy. The Alfredo? Oh, please. The Caprese? My belly's going to burst.
My biggest surprise was the pizza. My son and I have an agreement when we go somewhere, where we both split our meals. I get a piece of what he's eating, he gets some of mine. His pepperoni pizza was fantastic, the crust thin and stone baked, the sauce sweet and garlicky. And when I asked him how his meatballs and spaghetti were, he just gave and thumbs up and devoured it.
The best part of the meal came at the end, when we were sitting around chatting. The dining room was empty aside from our party, and I could feel the ambiance all over me. Frank was singing, and there was laughter in another room. I couldn't help but feel as though this was 1958, and the boys yukking it up in the other room were Dino, Sammy, Frank, Joey and Peter, instead of just a family from Bay Village.
Make no mistake, People of Yelp, and People Who Take Words of Strangers To Help Form an Opinion: This isn't four stars for a chain. This is a legitimate four stars, mostly for the people and a good bit for the food as well. This Buca di Beppo is one of the better places to grab some italian fare on the West Side of Cleveland. If you've got to suffer through a chain, don't. Go here and feel like you're part of the family.
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