Buca di Beppo, which, according to the restaurant’s website, translates to “Joe’s basement,” couldn’t be more aptly named—not because it is quaint, friendly and comfortable like your buddy’s rec room, but because it is exactly the kind of place that some asshole cooking meth in his aging and senile Italian grandmother’s crawlspace might think up. Ok, it might not be that bad, but it is the kind of place that relies more on kitsch than on quality food.