Families that saute together stay together, beating the odds and surviving in a risky business.

The restaurant business is glamorous. It''s a great way to make money. And it''s like a party, going on all the time. Right? Hardly.

But it must be the bewitching nature of all of these half-truths that consistently qualifies it as an enterprise with a staggering failure rate. According to the National Restaurant Association, 27 percent of restaurants fail after the first year. Almost half are done at the end of the third year, and 60 percent after five years of operation.

In Monterey County, where we have a reputation for having fine restaurants far out of proportion to our population, similar statistics apply. (See "Newly Open, Newly Closed," page 18.) But we''re also unique because, at a time when big corporations and franchises are creating an identity crisis for indigenous urban landscapes, we have so many good-more than there''s space here to mention-family-owned and operated restaurants that have beat the odds and been around for awhile.

The families who run these restaurants agree that despite the challenges they face, the strength of their business lies in the strength of their family. At the same time they offer a personal touch that makes diners feel at home, they can rely on each other when times get tough.

Each establishment is unique unto itself, but all share one overriding philosophy: If it''s in your blood, you do it for love, not money. And, as they also agree, you do it because it''s what you know, and because you''re good at it.

It''s the Passion

Raffaello''s Remo d''Agliano is a third generation chef, getting his start in his parent''s kitchen as a 45-day-old infant. Placed in a basket under their gaze, the slow simmer of Bolognese, and the bustle of cooks and waiters came to seem as natural as breathing.

As an adult, Remo''s career took him from his native Florence, Italy to star-studded restaurants all over Europe. From there, he came to California for the chef position at Club XIX, just opening at Pebble Beach. It was a stunning blow when his father passed away on the restaurant''s inaugural night. Later on, Remo opened what is now Carmel''s oldest independently owned restaurant and named it after his father. Still, after 34 years, it''s wise to make reservations if you''re hoping to dine at Rafaello on a Saturday night.

If you look for Remo''s mother, Amelia, you''ll still find her in the kitchen, giving the sauce a stir or forming up gnocchi. His wife, Danielle, does the books and myriad other duties that go along with running the business. After all this time, Remo''s easy answer to the thing that keeps them together and keeps them going is simple. "It''s the passion. The tradition," he responds.

These things, he explains, have been the bond that has kept Rafaello intact as untold numbers of restaurant hopefuls have come and gone over the years. "The competition in Carmel can be difficult. You''re dealing with a new generation of clientele now-many of our older customers are gone. You used to find traditional Italian, traditional French, traditional Japanese restaurants; now it''s all the same type of food. Franchises and chains come in, and they make it difficult. But, it would be much harder if we weren''t a family business."

All in the Family

Solidarity is everything for family-operated restaurants. "Having family behind you makes you a lot stronger," attests Geralynn Spadaro, chef and co-owner of Tutto Buono in Monterey. "It gives you a lot of."

"Momentum," interjects sister and partner, Michelle. "We back one another on most situations that arise. Or when one of us wants to try something new." For the Spadaro sisters, it''s a strategy that works. A third sister, Marielena, is in charge of the food service operation at Monterey Institute of International Studies, a contract that the partners successfully bid on, now going into its second year. At the time of her sisters'' interview, Marielena is in labor, having her first child.

"We all grew up in the business," explains Geralynn, whose brother John, owns Spado, in Salinas. "I started cooking when I was 11 years old in my parent''s restaurant." For 16 years, their mom and dad, Pat and Vito, operated Spadaro''s on Cannery Row. "Even before that, really, I was cooking with my grandparents," she continues. "That''s them, there," she gestures, pointing out the black and white pictures displayed on the dining room wall. "Now, our parents are here with us. The chemistry is good between us all. I realize that not a lot of people have that. But with us, we balance."

"We all work in different areas of the business," says Michelle. "But we know it well enough to be able to jump in and cover for each other."

"We pay ourselves, of course," Geralynn adds, "but if you had to hire someone to do everything we do, it would cost a lot. We''re all here when we have to be here. And that means you have eyes in the front, the back, on the staff, and the inventory.

"We''re fortunate that we''ve developed a great long-term staff," she continues. "That makes all the difference when it comes to being able to get out of here one or two nights a week. But you''re also in a position of always having to cut and streamline your labor where you can. You really have to hammer that issue, because you''re operating on such a small margin."

In fact, the optimum profit margin commonly targeted by restaurant operators might come as something of a shock to most people. "It sure did to some of our staff members," laughs Chris Shake. Chris and his brother, Sabu Shake, Jr., are co-owners of three area restaurants. "We think it''s important to have weekly staff meetings, and let everyone know where we''re at with the numbers. When we asked everyone what percentage of profit they thought we operate on, the low guess came in at 30 percent and the high guess was 70 percent."

"Everyone was surprised when we showed them our P&L, and a net profit that fluctuates between 4 and 8 percent," Sabu joins in. "Your three biggest costs are food, at about 35 percent, labor that runs from 30 to 35 percent, and your rent. If you''ve got 10 percent on your bottom line, you''re doing really well."

The Shake brothers are no strangers to the business. They both started working at an early age at their parent''s place on Monterey''s Old Fisherman''s Wharf, the Old Fisherman''s Grotto. Chris quit school in seventh grade to work there full time. In 1995, he and Sabu Jr. opened the Fish Hopper on Cannery Row. Two years later, they purchased Monterey Joe''s. When they''re asked how they explain their success, a few words sum it up. "You gotta be there," Chris replies.

"You can''t be an absentee owner and make it," Sabu concurs. "I was over at Monterey Joe''s one afternoon at lunch and greeted a customer. Later that evening at the Fish Hopper, I saw the same guy. He said, ''Boy, you''re really a hard worker.'' I didn''t tell him I was one of the owners," he smiles. The Personal Touch

Setting yourself apart from your rivals can be a real bonus in an industry where your closest competition can be just a few steps away. And when you''re not working with huge advertising budgets or corporate backing, simply being accessible to the clientele becomes an important part of establishing credibility. Seasoned restaurant owners know that the personal touch is integral to winning loyal, repeat customers-the bread and butter who define the difference between surviving and thriving.

"Our father would be at Old Fisherman''s Grotto all day, come home and rest for a couple of hours, and go back and close the place, seven days and seven nights a week," Chris recalls. Sabu Shake, Sr. passed away last year after more than 40 years in the restaurant business. "He had the energy for it. He was a natural in the front of the house, meeting people, and the customers came to expect it. If he wasn''t there, they would ask for him. He loved that whole part of it. And we both really enjoy serving the public."

Geralynn thinks there''s another important, distinguishing factor that works to their advantage. "We don''t have the huge bucks that the big corporate-run places do to market ourselves and advertise. Our way of doing that is to be here as a family and for people to see that, and through word of mouth. We''re here every day, guiding it by hand. That''s the difference."

"When people hear that we''re all family here, they love that," observes Michelle. "I think a lot of people really yearn for that themselves."

"To be in this business, you have to love people," confirms Tony Davi who operates Flavors Caf‚ on Cannery Row with his son, Santo. "When somebody comes in that''s mad at their husband, mad at their wife, when you satisfy them, it makes your day. Some people are easy to please. No problem! Other people, you approach them with a smile, and it''s, ''Wipe that smile off your face!''" he growls, grabbing his chest. "You can feel it right in here. The tension. Those are the days I''d rather be out fishing. But," he asserts, "you know if you''ve managed to please a grumpy customer, you''ve done your job."

Doing Your Job

By any standards, restaurant work is tough. But when the restaurant is all in the family, it presents even more challenges. By definition, the struggle to keep the enterprise afloat taxes everyone in the family.

"In the beginning, my wife Sandi was here seven days a week," says Tony Davi. "I couldn''t have gotten along without her. Now, she''d rather be home with the grandbaby. In the beginning, sometimes you can''t afford to pay for all the manpower. You have to do it yourself. You''re learning, making mistakes until you work out the routine and get your rhythm."

Davi has worked in and around restaurants since coming to Monterey from Sicily in 1958. At Flavors, he runs the kitchen while Santo manages the front. "Problems still come up: gas prices are high and business falls off, the weather''s no good and the people stay home. But, if you''re lucky and you''re good at it, it all evens out. Sometimes, you even get to take a day off!"

It''s pretty much understood that Monday nights are not big business nights for restaurants. Holidays and weekends are part of the territory. David, John and Tony DiGirolamo grew up working at their parent''s restaurant, Angelo''s on the Wharf in Monterey, in business for 39 years. Their partnership includes cousin Steve Kubota and Frank "the same as family, we go so far back" Massaro, along with his nephew Oliver Santos, and two restaurants, Monterey''s Fish House and Salinas Valley Fish House.

"You know when you grow up in the business that there are a lot of demands," acknowledges David. "Then, when you first get married, your wife starts to realize what that means. You''re gone from morning to night, you don''t have weekends or holidays off, when everybody else is going outside to barbecue, you''re going to work, and when everybody''s going out to brunch for Mother''s Day, you''re going to work then, too."

For people outside of the business, this would seem to spell relationship disaster. "You realize that''s how you make your money," David counters, "and you figure out your own system. We invent our own holidays. We take off on Superbowl Sunday. We close on Monday when the banks are closed. And our wives get together and take themselves out on Saturday nights!"

Mario Catalano agrees. "Sure, all of us in the business-we all talk-and yes, it would be nice to be like normal people and go to a movie with your wife on Saturday night, or go out on New Year''s Eve like everyone else. But that''s just the way it is. Once in a while, you can afford to do that. But," he adds, "after you get established and things level out, you want to re-invest in the business. You can afford to make changes; it doesn''t seem as risky as it does at first. We''re getting ready to do some remodeling again at Cibo."

His mother, Rosa Catalano worked for the Hyatt Hotel for 20 years as a waitress before launching her own place. She and husband, John, a musician, opened this venue for dining, dancing and live jazz entertainment nine years ago. Mario began working in restaurants at age 16 and, after working his way from the ground up, he is general manager of Cibo.

He''s also developed an appreciation for what it means to be family-owned and operated. "We have a long-term staff and I think that''s because we treat everyone like family. We''ve developed a reputation for being a good place to work. I''ve worked in corporate-owned restaurants, and I think you''re able to tell the difference. There, everything is by-the-book. We don''t run that way here. That''s just not our management style."

"I think that as far as quality is concerned, we''re very competitive with bigger, corporate operations. We give our food the same style and flair as they do," adds Geralynn Spadaro. "But, I also think we were underestimated at first," Michelle notes. "When we changed our concept a few years ago from a self-service market and deli to a full-service restaurant, we had to prove ourselves. And I think we did that. Now we''re getting the recognition."

What about when it comes time to make important decisions that affect the business? "Everything''s open for discussion," answers David DiGirolamo, "but we don''t go round and round. Somebody calls a final decision."

"We talk about it if someone is unhappy about something, or if we just want to change something, bring in something exotic or try something new," says Michelle Spadaro. "But, we have an agreement between the sisters. Two to one, majority rules."

And, when it comes time to change the menu? "We test everything," says Remo d''Agliano. "We cook, make a special dinner, sit around the table, and then decide. We treasure that."

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