‘Depart’ with Flicks this week: It’s a good show

By Chris Holt
INTERMISSION| Based on Hong Kong police thriller “Internal Affairs,” “The Departed” — playing at Flicks this Sunday — is considered by many to be Martin Scorsese’s latest masterpiece.

Clap Your Hands has less pop, more crackle

By Brendan Selby
INTERMISSION| After listening to the first track of “Some Loud Thunder” you might be tempted to rush out and buy new headphones.

Who’s in, who’s out: Hollywood edition

By Ryan Lampe
INTERMISSION| Alfonso Cuaron: Okay, so it wasn’t that hard to imagine someone better-suited to “The Hobbit” after all! Cuaron’s work with “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” should convince you of that. His most recent endeavor, “Children of Men,” was also very smart. Cuaron is “in” and so is fellow Mexican director and good friend .

Deerhoof: As cute as tourists

By Phil Shiu
INTERMISSION| When chatting with my friends regarding college, one thing I like to brag about is how Stanford gets attracts Japanese and other Asian tourists.

Eh, you might ‘Wince’ a bit during this CD

By Phil Shiu
INTERMISSION| I have a sort of nostalgic love for The Shins.

Red meat outlets across the nation

By Victor Fuste, Emma Trotter and Betsy Congdon
INTERMISSION| In 1952, Russ Harvey traded his car for a 10-foot wide roadside hotdog stand in San Pablo with just six stools.

Buca offers a lot of food, not all of it good

By Elizabeth Fox
INTERMISSION| “Quality, not quantity” is the catchphrase that was hammered into me as an impressionable fifth grader, but clearly not into anyone at Buca di Beppo. The restaurant, part of a national chain that’s located here at 643 Emerson Street, pushes quantity over all else. Sometimes it works, but sometimes, it painfully does not. All of this, however, came as a surprise. At first, it seemed like the perfect place to me. I liked entering through the kitchens, bombarded by smells of garlic and tomato. I liked the idea of large portions served family-style to share among everyone at the table. I even liked the kitschy decorations — every wall covered with murals of tomatoes, colorful Christmas lights, and black-and-white photos of happy women, fat dogs, and fat babies (which provide great fodder for jokes about what one will look like post-dinner). The red-and-white checked tablecloths and run-of-the-mill Italian music drifting out of the speakers just added to the campy atmosphere. It was all fun, and I and the nine friends that I had dragged along with me were ready for it. The food, however, didn’t live up to the promise. It’s not that it was bad, but it certainly wasn’t good. The apple gorgonzola salad that we ordered, for example, a gargantuan serving of lettuce, apple slices, cheese, and dried cranberries, came mixed with walnuts so completely covered in cinnamon that they turned us off the salad all together. Likewise, the chicken glorioso that we ordered from the specials menu was merely chicken smothered in cheese — anything but glorious. The eggplant parmesan seemed to consist mostly of breadcrumbs and chunky tomato sauce, or at least, that’s all one could taste. The fettuccine alfredo also fell short, as merely cheesy pasta without any subtly of taste. All were served in massive portions that landed at one end of the table and were served down to the other. With the exception of the walnuts, nothing was inedible, but no one would go beyond a halfhearted “fine” when asked for opinions on these dishes. There were a few highlights, though, that are worth pointing out. The garlic bread that we ordered as an appetizer was a standout. Large trays of soft, warm bread appeared on our table, sprinkled lightly with parmesan and slivers of garlic. The taste was delicious without the garlic being overwhelming, so that I had no qualms about my breath as I talked to the person next to me. The Margherita pizza was also a happy choice. It came on a thin crust with slices of mozzarella, tomato, and basil, accompanied by a container of “spicy pizza oil” that turned out to be simply tasteless oil that we could pour on our pizza if we so desired (why would we?). If the speed with which we ate the garlic bread and the pizza can be seen as a measure of how much we liked them, the Buca hit those two out of the park. Less impressive, though also good, was the fried calamari that we ordered as our second appetizer. Though it hardly lived up to the standard of the garlic bread, the pieces were soft and chewy, and the sauce had the right amount of spice. There were a few pieces that still looked like alarmingly like their octopus origins, and I would have liked the dish to be a little crispier, but it was happily demolished by the majority of the diners, and, later, in the wake of the chicken glorioso, remembered fondly. As we had one birthday girl in our party, desserts were requisite. As stuffed as we were, they were so good that we ate nearly the entirety of the huge portions in under ten minutes. The double dark chocolate cake was the favorite — rich, moist cake, layered with a lighter chocolate icing. The chocolate vesuvio combined an enormous fudge brownie with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce, so good that we kept eating it long after our stomachs felt like bursting. The homemade cheesecake with raspberry sauce was also a favorite, light and fluffy. While it wasn’t quite up to Cheesecake Factory standards, our party’s cheesecake connoisseur assured us that it beat Stern dining’s by a mile. It was a good end to a mediocre meal, but as we waddled out of the restaurant and away to the bus stop, it occurred to me exactly how much we had eaten. Next time, I decided, we’d order only the appetizers and desserts, and then, for good measure, we’d walk home.

Stanford fashion police: If only it existed . . .

By Christina Nguyen
INTERMISSION| In my short time here at Stanford, I’ve come to notice something rather amusing about our highly .

Berkeley’s ‘Pillowman’ morbid, intriguing

By Clea Alsip
INTERMISSION| Get excited to go off campus and see some theater!

Roxy Sass on hook-ups and hardware

By Roxy Sass
INTERMISSION| It’s the In ‘n’ Out Issue, and you all know what Roxy’s thinking.