by Sarah Hall
This Valentine's Day, many sweethearts
will profess their love over dinner in a swanky restaurant. But what about
the cook, the greeter, the dishwasher, and the owner, all unable to spend
the evening with their honey?
Not a problem, say the following restaurateurs. Even though they'll be working on the busiest night of the year, they won't be far from the ones they love.
GREGORY AND SYLVIA SADESTSKY came to Memphis 20 years ago because, as Sylvia tells the story, "Memphis was needing some Russians and God said, `Go up there -- you'll be successful,' so we did." After moving the Samovar Old World Bakery from the Porter Building downtown to Eastgate shopping center and then to Germantown, the Sadestskys finally came back downtown six years ago to open Cafe Samovar.
After 36 years of marriage, the Sadestskys have their own version of what it's like to run a restaurant together. "Hell," says Sylvia. "We are 24 hours together. We cannot exclude the business from our home." "I don't know what she said, but I'm happy," Gregory responds on cue from his wife. "I'm happy with my life and I'm happy with my family."
Working in a chaotic, whimsical setting, the Sadestskys thrive because they divided their responsibilities early on. Gregory bakes the pastries and breads, greets guests, and helps clear tables, while Sylvia oversees the kitchen.
"It's a big challenge," Sylvia says. "But when you go through rough times and then it gets better, you can appreciate being with your husband because you can look back and say, `Look, we didn't do so bad.'"
"We trust each other," Gregory adds, "and I think what's most important in love is you trust each other."
NESTLED IN WHITE STATION PLAZA, Lulu Grille held the title of Best Kept Secret for five years running in Memphis magazine's restaurant poll. Then the secret got out.
The anniversary of the restaurant's opening, February 4, 1990, isn't the only one etched in Don McLean's mind. He also refers to the one engraved on his wedding band, marking 20 years with his wife Leigh.
With 13 years' experience evaluating restaurants for Holiday Inn, Don began with an advantage over others starting out. "I had the benefit of traveling all over the country looking at places specifically like this -- more bistro that not, but also little mom-and-pop places that were comfortable and had personality," Don says.
When asked why they decided to embark on the venture together, Leigh's index finger points quickly to Don. "Fulfilling his dream," she says.
"And yours," Don replies, as Leigh shakes her head in disagreement. "It's not anymore," he chuckles. "It's her nightmare now." While many would never think of Lulu's as a "mom-and-pop" place, Leigh refers to it this way because their situation creates certain problems. "The good and bad thing about being a mom-and-pop is that ... you have to be here," she says. "People expect to see Leigh and Don here when they walk in the door."
And Lulu's really is that kind of neighborhood spot. A muted mural of a girl walking her poodle welcomes guests to the cozy, French-country dining room. And Don and Leigh know not only their diners, but also their diners' children and parents.
"Part of being a mom-and-pop is growing to know people," Leigh says. "That's probably a secret to still being here when other small places don't last -- being a family restaurant with a non-family style."
For Valentine's Day, Lulu's will offer a tapered $40 prix-fixe menu. Be forewarned on getting a reservation, though. Don says, "It gets crazy -- I get people calling me up that I was friends with in the third grade."
"FOREVER," MAE SMITH SAYS WHEN asked how long she's been married. "When'd we get married?" she asks turning to her husband. "1954?"
"Yep, 1954," he nods.
Helping his wife answer one question,
L.B. Smith ducks into the kitchen, demonstrating the key to the Smiths'
working relationship. "My husband and I are so opposite," Mae
says. "He's the quiet one and I'm the one that's talkative."
In 1982, Mae and L. B. opened Marmalade Restaurant and Lounge and began featuring rhythm-and-blues performers such as Melinda Rogers, Herman Green, and Ruby Wilson.
Thanks to their jazz-playing son, Audie Smith, who's now working on his second album in New York City, proud mom Mae says, "We get the best musicians in the city. They gravitate to each other."
But music isn't the only highlight at the Marmalade. The restaurant serves Southern meals, including the best spicy pork chops and black-eyed peas in town.
Working as a manager with the Postal Service and a teacher in the Memphis city school system, Mae and L.B. retired in 1992 and 1994, respectively, to run Marmalade full-time. "If we hadn't had day jobs," Mae says, "we wouldn't be able to afford the place. It's like another child that you take on."
All things considered, Mae says the hardest part of owning a restaurant together is budgeting. "It's been slow, and the business is what we generate. ... There's no built-in traffic," she says.
Mae promises they'll continue serving dinner Tuesday through Saturday for at least 10 more years, maybe 15. Does she recommend owning a restaurant with your significant other? "Absolutely," she says. "You don't outgrow each other ... you have an understanding of what's going on, and no one will go off and leave the other."