BY: Priya Krishna
There was no Little Italy near the small suburb of Dallas where I grew up. Instead, there was Buca di Beppo. Among my classmates, Buca di Beppo was the go-to destination for birthday parties. The atmosphere was always raucous, the platters of food were so massive that they demanded sharing, and ogling at the sundry black-and-white photos of Italian wrestlers and spaghetti-eating contests that crowded the walls was as much a part of the experience as the actual dining.
It was here that I first listened to the croonings of Dean Martin, his music playing on an endless loop in the dining room. And where I learned what the pope looks like, thanks to the “Pope Room,” where a large bust of His Holiness sits at the center of the table.
SOURCE: https://www.bonappetit.com/
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