Family Style
The headline in last week's Post—that Buca di Beppo restaurants filed for bankruptcy—was shocking; that is, until I read the story. Only 12 restaurants have closed (out of 44). It could be worse! If the line about “restructuring” refers strictly to re-financing, all may yet turn out for the best; if, on the other hand, the signature theme of the brand changes, then the outlook is not encouraging. What does it portend?
After I caught my breath, I felt like I'd been taken-in by another drive-by Post headline. The news (below the fold) appears to be only a panic attack at the restaurant corporate accounting office. Then again (on second thought), maybe there is more to it. Everybody knows the restaurant business has not fully recovered from the Covid pandemic. Reading further, the twelve restaurants “shuttered” are in locations which do not have the kind of demographic profile that you might call welcoming, to an Italian-theme experience like Buca di Beppo.
What does it mean to say Buca di Beppo is the quintessential family restaurant? That opinion, as well, has an unavoidable double meaning. True, all ages are comfortable at Buca di Beppo. The food is standard, but enjoyable (if not exceptional), Italian cooking. These top features, alone, give it the honor of what is commonly known as “family fare.” At another level, however, Buca offers (to the discerning taste) the sensation of what it feels like to be a member of a real Italian family.
Benvenuti a casa nostra. By the way, Buca di Beppo means Beppo's “hole.” Look it up. Why would anyone want to dine at a hole? At today's prices that sort of modest corporate identity won't cut it. Because (to answer my own question) Beppo's is a legitimate gangster joint, a hangout, a speakeasy, etc., or which ever slang term you prefer. Everyone knows a “hole-in-the-wall” is a hideout. Buca customers either don't like it because they don't “get” the theme (don't appreciate it), or, they object to it on principle.
With 44 locations Beppo's owes its success to more than the secret sauce. Maybe the problem is omerta—the insider code of honor—that's killing it. Murder me, but I think it's great. Don't go for the food. That fare is better had at classy Italian joints. At Buca the décor is ugly, but not so bad as to distract you from eating. To sharpen my point, the service is accommodating and (as said), the crowd is congenial. That is its best feature. You, and everybody, will feel great (not just satisfied). And, if a special event is given there, it will be a resounding success.
“Memorable.” How many times have you read that in a restaurant review? It sounds so underwhelming! But maybe (if you read between the lines), it is a code word for rite-of-passage, as in the type of event that is a fixed date—reserved for years—on the social calendar, a failure-to-attend type of event that can have serious social repercussions, an RSVP will not be accepted-type event. Everybody has been to one. Everybody's first was your own rite-of-passage social event, which was, hopefully, the first of many.
That's the main difference between a kids-friendly restaurant, and an adult-oriented family restaurant, like Buca di Beppo. It's a “family” place where adults are comfortable. We may be at a turning point—as a civilization—a matter more serious than closing a few under-performing Italian restaurants. It disturbs me personally because Buca di Beppo is—without exception—my all-time favorite restaurant. It is special because one never dines alone at Buca di Beppo. That insight is intended literally, as well as a figure of speech, because it is the ideal party place. Even if you go by yourself -you are not alone.
That should be the corporate slogan. Are you beginning to see what I mean? My Buca di Beppo experience was a company holiday party. It was in 2009. The company I worked for was, at that time, feeling the effects of the economic downturn. Before that year, the company holiday party had been private. Why that matters is that everybody knew everybody at the company party. At Buca di Beppo, we were among strangers. We knew we'd better be on our best behavior.
When the company party was private the one rule was to keep it private. Personal cameras were under temporary embargo. A professional photographer documented the event, and all employees were allowed copies, the next day. What stays in Vegas was rule #1 (at that time). Of course, if anything compromising did occur, the offending photo was deleted. Otherwise, the boss expected circus joviality, fun befitting the season. Unexpectedly, the joviality at the company party that year at Buca may have exceeded what it had been in private -because it was public.
Unlike previous (private) Christmas parties, there was neither an open bar, stage show, dancing, nor hotel accommodations available (if you got too drunk to drive home.) At Buca, the dining tables were joined end-to-end, in long rows, wall-to-wall. Neighboring tables not a part of our own party were either stand-alone, or if double, triple, or more, were (like ours) joined end-to-end. It was this simple arrangement that taught me the wisdom of the Buca di Beppo-style trattoria. Everybody in the place dines together. And, it is a euphoric feeling. It's not caused by the wine. Or, rather, the wine—like everything—is (or seems) better, more intoxicating (and for less).
It's a spirit. It's the ineffable lightness of losing care, particularly the care of work, because the distinctive feature of Buca is that it is a public house. It is not a restaurant to which to go for high cuisine—a place for snobs—or, for that matter, refined taste in anything. It is a place where everybody feels comfortable. That is a feeling for which we seem to be losing an appreciation. We may be at a turning point—as a civilization—which is a matter more serious than closing a few under-performing locations to trim the budget.