Buca di Beppo = Love.

Or, food / semi-review post! Don't read this if you're hungry.

The other night, I went out to dinner with the co-workers: We all earned a service award, essentially, and the dinner was our thank-you from the company. When we earned the same award last year, our reward was a dinner at Claim Jumper's (and I'm still dreaming of their ginger creme brulee) -- this year, we were treated to the Kitchen Table at Buca's.

While not my first trip to Buca's, it was my first experience at the Kitchen Table -- and if you ever get the chance, I'd say, take that table at least once. It's interesting to watch everything going on in the kitchen, they'll bring dishes by your table and tell you what they are as they go out, and you get to interact directly with your chefs.

I have to say, I was really fond of ours. She had some excellent suggestions, and, er, we may have gotten to talking about unusual food combinations (like the ingredient choices made in the porchetta rustica -- more on that later). Also, she was a former California Pizza Kitchen chef, so she was listening intently when we started talking about them -- and then she and I got to talking about the Peking Duck pizza that (alas) is no longer on the CPK menu.

I had a lot of fun, and it was interesting to see how the kitchen worked. But I digress from the real reason we were there: The food.

I'm sad to report that for the first time in the years since I've been going to our local Buca's, I did not get the caprese. I'm an enormous fan of the way they make it, but there was just not enough interest at the table, it seemed -- though the day's salad special made its way onto our table, and I wasn't sorry in the least. The Bossman and I polished off most of that (and the leftovers, such as they were, made it home with me) -- he more after the spinach, and me attacking and devouring the fresh, flavorful wedges of tomato.
It was a 'warm spinach and tomato salad,' but it was also so much more than that. They touched the spinach, slivers of red onion and beefsteak tomatoes to the pan just long enough to warm them, and then added candied pecans and what I believe was a house balsamic vinaigrette -- if I'd been able to think past the goodness dancing on my tongue, I would have asked what went into it -- and then tossed with a mild, white goat cheese. The tomatoes were definitely my favorite, though chasing the onions and pecans around my plate were a very close second. -- I may very well have to call over there and ask what balsamic they use, because theirs was so much more mild than the stuff I keep at home, and managed to be sweeter without being cloying. (Time to upgrade!)
I do not know what kind of goat cheese they used, alas, but I think it needed a little more oomph to really make itself known: It didn't stand up all that well when paired with the dressing. Feta'd be all wrong, but it needed something... Guess it's time to go cheese tasting and expand my goat cheese repertoire.

Before that, though, we had bruschetta and the trio sampler -- battered shrimp, calamari, and mozzarella, only one of which I'll touch. The breaded mozzarella wasn't what I was typically used to: They appeared to be thin, breaded rounds of cheese, and tasted more baked than fried; I was so relieved to see something other than the fat, leaky fingers of fried, breaded cheese dripping with grease, that I did perhaps snitch one more than I should have. (No one complained since the shrimp and calamari were otherwise theirs.)
The bruschetta was little more than fresh chopped tomatoes and basil atop the house bread, drizzled with garlicky olive oil. I did love it, but the toppings were a little light. Maybe they needed a touch more garlic and onion, who could say?

And then we ordered the main course.

I was first to pipe up, and I requested the porchetta rustica: Herb-rubbed pork sliced into rounds, and topped with a sauce of red wine, balsamic, blueberries, capers and hazelnuts, served with a side of roasted potatoes and veggies.  (I have to admit, I've recently found a mild obsession with capers, especially when in these kind of dishes.)
The boss wrinkled his nose at the blueberries -- "Blueberries? In a wine sauce, on pork?" -- but I persisted and received backup from the rest of the group, so it made its way to our table and I was so very not sorry. (Neither, for that matter, was he -- he actually admitted it worked, in spite of the perceived weirdness.) I'm now going to have to dedicate my life to duplicating that dish. ;)

Of course, our chef was listening in while I announced to Bossman that I make it a point to try my hand at making ans tasting 'weird foods.'  It was an amusing couple minutes while I defended myself by pointing to his reaction to the blueberries and capers on pork. ;)

There were other things we ordered, though I did not touch the linguine fruitti di mare -- Again with the calamari and shrimp, only including mussels and clams, which are also not my cup of tea. Meant more for the co-workers, right?

We also ordered some pasta dishes (that were tasty, but I was way too full to truly appreciate) and a side of tuscan beans and escarole in marinara. It was my first time knowingly trying escarole, and I have to say I enjoyed it: I like it in much the same way I like cooked spinach, but it's got ... Hm. Perhaps not 'more' flavor, but that's the best term I can come up with at the moment. Cooked spinach can be a background flavor: Escarole isn't. I'm probably going to have to track it down fresh to form a better educated opinion.

I discovered something, however: While the co-worker-turned-friend at my left was squeezing his lemon onto his linguine di mare at his seat next to me, I took my first bite of the Tuscan white beans, and wow. The scent of lemon that hit me was enough to make that dish pop, and I was actively disappointed that the bites afterward lacked that citrus-y hint. I've decided that this weekend, I will be making white beans with greens (likely spinach, since I always have that on hand), olive oil, and lemon juice/zest.

Honestly, I only had enough room for a spoonful of tiramisu. In-sane.
Great food, though. I'm clearly going to have to drag people back that way to go get more of the things I really liked.