Mere cohabitation can produce enough tangles to choke a marriage. Working together, likewise, can cause couples to butt heads often or severely enough to break each other's necks-or hearts. So how do husbands and wives manage the inevitable and potentially suffocating stress of living together and running a restaurant? They're doing it in astonishing abundance right here in Louisville. Among the co-owner couples who spring to mind are L&N Wine Bar's Len Stevens and Nancy Richards, Lily's Kathy and Will Cary, Timothy's Charles and Shayne Zanetis, Churchill's John and June Roush, Nermana's Damir and Nermana Pejkusic, Rockwall's Guy and Joni Sillings, Starving Artist Café & Deli's Tim and Angie Marshall-and Mark and Susan of Stevens & Stevens. Even lengthier is the list of distinguished couples who, side by side, are abiding two of the most agonizing of all human enterprises: relationships and restaurants. We know the untold stories are no less compelling or poignant than the six we share in this issue. They succeed with ingredients that sweeten what, for many, is a bitter and ruinous recipe. It takes hard work, communication, love, respect, forgiveness and negotiation. And sometimes it's just wise to relent and say, "Have it your way."

[ owners ] Miguel and Maggie de la Torre de la torre's 1606 bardstown road 456-4955

Amid Louisville's culturally diverse culinary landscape, De la Torre's stands perhaps as the most unlikely restaurant. Most ethnic eateries - Thai, Indian, Middle Eastern, South and Central American and Eastern European - have proliferated, during the past generation, in tandem with the region's immigrant communities.

De la Torre's grew the hard way-without an abundance of native patrons. The Spanish restaurant is rooted not in the Spanish-speaking nations of the Americas but in the European traditions of the Iberian peninsula. And while Spanish restaurants aren't difficult to find in cities like Chicago and New York, they're rare in the heartland of America, where a Spanish surname on an exterior sign almost always implies enchiladas inside.

The fact that Louisville is home to an authentic Spanish restaurant is largely an accident of fate. Chef Miguel de la Torre, 49, a native of Madrid, grew up in a banking family and didn't decide to pursue cooking as a profession until he was in his thirties. His wife, Maggie, 50, was born in Charleston, West Virginia, and followed her first husband to England. When that marriage broke up, she moved to Madrid and suddenly found herself in the restaurant business. "I'd never been involved in a restaurant before," she said. "I was never a struggling waitress in college, or anything like that. But I like people and I had the opportunity and I grabbed it - and I loved it and never looked back."

That first restaurant was an upscale place called Armstrong's, located near the opera house in Madrid. Maggie and Miguel met through mutual friends, and it wasn't long before she learned that, in addition to banking, he was a talented chef. "It's a long day in the restaurant business in Madrid," she recalled. "I would go home between six and nine in the evening, and then back to the restaurant for dinner. One evening Miguel was watching my kids for me, and I was rushing home to give them something to eat. When I got there, he had fixed a dinner of duck a l'orange. It was a funny moment-I was trying to be a hero, but I suddenly realized that I didn't have to worry too much when this guy was taking care of my kids."

That was during the middle 80s, and Miguel was struggling to decide whether to remain in banking. "When I was a very small age," he said in the mellow accent of his Castilian heritage, "I started helping in the family with the cooking. In my thirties I had to decide whether to follow the banking or the cooking, and I decided to follow the cooking because I consider it more like an art, with the color and flavor and everything."

With three children between them, the couple faced a dilemma: whether to open a restaurant in Madrid or the United States. They decided to give Louisville a try. "I had lived there for a couple of years when I was younger," said Maggie. "And I knew it was a very nice city."

So in 1987, the pair settled in Louisville, found a location and spent a year putting it together. "We had a shared vision," said Maggie. "We were trying to bring Spain here, to make the experience as authentic as possible, so people could experience Spain without buying a plane ticket and going over there. We had a very clear-cut notion of what we need to do in terms of how it should look and feel." That shared vision has meant less conflict, Maggie said. "Sometimes there's an adversarial relationship between the kitchen and the front of the house," she said. "But we're both trying to do the best thing for the restaurant, so we keep that to a minimum."

Their occasional upsets usually stem from special orders. Spanish cuisine is relatively unfamiliar; thus customers will sometimes request things that run counter to Miguel's culinary standards. "Sometimes a customer will ask for paella with hot sauce," Maggie said. "We've had people ask for ketchup or things that we don't have. As the front of the house, you want to make the customer happy at all costs. But if the chef knows that something will ruin the dish, he doesn't want to do that. There's a lot of pride. Miguel is very accommodating about dietary needs and if someone wants ketchup, he'll make a tomato sauce-but it's not ketchup."

For Miguel, any conflicts between the kitchen and the front of the house merely melt in the face of a more important reality. "We just love each other so much that those things don't matter," he said. "This is true, you know. But also, we have from the day one, one policy. I take care of the kitchen, making the plates, creating the food - and Maggie takes care of all the orientation in the dining room, and takes care of the people."

Maggie also ensures that Miguel understands where American tastes diverge from those of his Spanish homeland. "In all the Mediterranean countries," said Miguel, "shrimp is served with the head on, because that gives the best flavor. But in the United States, people don't usually see shrimp with the head, and they say, 'What is this?'" Once they try it, he continued, they are amazed at the difference. Thus he is now serving shrimp-with-their-heads in the couple's new tapas bar, La Bodega. In the restaurant, however, the shrimp is still served American style.

When things go wrong, Miguel adopts a philosophical attitude. "Sometimes you're in the doghouse," he says, "and sometimes no. But no matter what, we discuss everything. We have worked together so long that we can almost read each other's minds."

There is no single formula for success in the restaurant business, but all fine restaurants share one trait: they manifest the distinct opinions and visions of their creators. Most of these profiles focus on restaurants founded and operated by couples with a common passion for the restaurant business-couples who founded their business together and, from the very beginning, planned to take advantage of their complementary talents and interests.

Club Grotto is a different story altogether. It was the creation of Jim McKinney, a single chef with a rigorously personal approach. He started his career waiting tables at Chi-Chi's and went on to create a hybrid style that blended Southern roots with European influences. By all accounts, McKinney was a charismatic and inspiring chef who made a lasting impression on the staff and customers at Club Grotto.

Indeed, in a business where the stamp of an individual is one of the key elements of success, it's a bit of a miracle that three years after Chef Jim's death, Club Grotto continues to thrive, because its current owners and operators, James and Juanita McKinney, never expected to be in the restaurant business. For them, Club Grotto is very definitely a labor of love.

For much of his career, James, 60, a Paris, Kentucky native, sold heavy-duty trucks, tractors and trailers and managed companies, among other roles. Prior to 1996, his only real kitchen experience had come during the early 1960s, when he was an Army mess sergeant, peeling spuds and cleaning up. That experience is far removed from running a sophisticated bistro like Club Grotto, the Bardstown Road restaurant the couple now own and operate.

Juanita, 60, originally from Prestonsburg, likewise had never worked in a restaurant-though she had started cooking as child and is, by all accounts, gifted in the kitchen.

What drew the couple into the business was their son, Jim McKinney II, who founded Club Grotto and placed his formidable stamp on it before his untimely death of a heart attack at age 32 in January 2001.

By then, Club Grotto, which opened in 1993, ranked among the top Louisville restaurants. Chef Jim McKinney (whose resumé included a stint at the prestigious Coach House Restaurant in Lexington) had amassed a superior staff and had given his parents instructions that they never expected to enact. "He always said that if anything happened to him, we were to keep the restaurant open," recalled Mr. McKinney. "If you're closed more than a day or two, you start losing customers. So for us there was never a second thought about keeping the restaurant open. He was so passionate about everything in the restaurant-the food, the service, everything-that keeping the restaurant open was our way of keeping his memory alive."

And McKinney had left the restaurant in good shape. "Our executive chef, Clay Cundiff, was the first person Jim hired for the restaurant," said Juanita. "And most of the kitchen and serving staff have stayed with us, because the restaurant really does have the feel of being more family than business."

That family atmosphere pervades not only the service, but also the menu. In the early days of the restaurant, even before it had a full-time pastry chef, Juanita helped out with the desserts. Some of her family recipes, including corn pudding, are on the menu alongside such treats as chocolate soufflé, one of Chef Jim's signature dishes.

These days, the couple share in the operation of the restaurant. He handles the accounts and paperwork while she helps with the front of the house operations. But the staff preserves the traditions. "When we hire new servers," said Mr. McKinney, "the people who've been with us for several years train the new people how to do things the Club Grotto way. It makes for a consistent experience. And the chefs are excellent. They've never compromised on the quality of the food."

After 43 years of marriage, said Juanita, "We're really best friends. We know what the other one is thinking, and this has been a wonderful experience."

Though neither partner had ever dreamed of being in the business, noted Mr. McKinney, Club Grotto is an extension of their family life. "Our house was always the place to eat after people had been boating or golfing or playing softball," he said. "There was always a crowd cooking and eating, so I guess it gets in your genes."

And Juanita concurs. "Chef Jim's daughter Andrea is now nine years old," said Juanita, "and already she's beginning to develop the same kind of sophisticated palate. Jim loved being in the kitchen with me when he was young, and Andrea's the same way."

Several things distinguish Maido Essential Cuisine from Louisville's other Japanese restaurants. First there's the menu: this is no sushi bar, but an Izakaya restaurant, the Japanese equivalent of a tapas bar. A fascinating array of dumplings, soups, meat, vegetable and seafood dishes are offered, all rooted in Japan's authentic home-style cuisine. Next there's the remarkable list of sake, which includes a selection of premium bottles unseen elsewhere in Louisville. Then there's a sense of youthful enthusiasm, a passionate advocacy for Japanese food, that seems to pervade the place. And finally there's a hint of romance.

And why not? It was romance of the highest order that brought the owner-operators, Jim and Toki Huie, together.

Jim Huie, 38, a Murray, Kentucky native, came to Louisville as a student (he studied sociology at the University of Louisville) and began working his way through the Louisville restaurant scene, serving at places like Chi-Chi's and Captain's Quarters. Later, he would bartend at Bluegrass Brewing Company and Cumberland Brews, but the Maido story begins while he was working at Ditto's. "It's kind of crazy," he said. "I was working at Ditto's, and this girl came in one night. She was on a date, and someone I knew was with them, so I asked him about her. Later that night, as I was going home, the same couple crossed the street right in front of my car. Two or three days later, I saw the same girl in the Mid-City Mall.

"Then, like two days later, I was waiting tables at Ditto's, and she came in and sat in the bar area. I had the eight tables up front, but I told the bartender to let me pick up that table, and I thought to myself, literally, if I don't ask this girl out, I may regret it for the rest of my life.

"It was pouring down rain, and I had eight tables going, but I ran across the street to the Speedway to buy her a rose. Needless to say, they were completely out of flowers-no roses, no anything. So I ran back over to the restaurant, completely dripping wet, sat down next to her and said, 'I think you're really beautiful, and I'd like to take you out.' She said, 'OK,' and here we areŠ That's how I met Toki."

Toki Huie, 31, had been raised in Osaka, Japan. Her father, Kazumi Masubuchi, began his career bussing tables in a Japanese restaurant and eventually wound up president of a chain of Japanese home-style restaurants that numbers in the hundreds (Toki describes the restaurants as the Japanese equivalent of an Applebee's). Toki was in the United States to earn a degree in communications from the University of Louisville (after transferring from Lindsey Wilson College in Columbia, Kentucky).

Food-wise, the two couldn't have been further apart. "I'd never eaten Japanese food before I met Toki," said Jim. "We always tell people that when we met I'd never eaten raw tuna, and Toki had never eaten cooked tuna. And I think she had the advantage-I've never eaten cooked tuna that's as good as raw."

Like Jim, Toki was working her way through school, preparing sushi at restaurants like Shogun and Sapporo. She was proficient in the ways of Japanese kitchens because she had been reared in a restaurant family. (Her mother's farming family raised everything from daikon radishes and potatoes to pigs and chickens.) "At my home, my mother was always cooking, and my dad, and my grandmother. So everybody was always cooking, and they always told me to go in the kitchen, so I was always watching how people did things."

When Jim and Toki married in 2000, her family came for the ceremony. "We ordered sushi from a take-out place," Toki recalled, "and my dad was very disappointed with the quality. He didn't think it really represented Japanese-style food. In Louisville, people think Japanese food is sushi and tempura, but there's much more than that. And when we went out to eat at Japanese restaurants, it was very expensive. So we wanted to have affordable food for anybody to come and enjoy the real Japanese food, the home-cooking Japanese food."

Mr. Masubuchi was ready to support the couple's restaurant venture, but he insisted that they prove themselves first. He urged them to start small and see what it would be like to operate a business.

And so the pair opened a small-scale sushi-to-go business in the Seafood Connection on Bardstown Road. Beginning in 2001, the couple established a reputation for innovative sushi offerings that introduced unusual textures and flavors.

"Jim brings an American perspective that I would never think of," said Toki. "So we experiment with things like using roasted red pepper in sushi-or roasted garlic."

"A lot of Louisville's Japanese restaurants are very similar," said Jim. "A lot of the sushi chefs got their training at Shogun, and they tend to take the same ideas and dishes with them wherever they go. We wanted to be distinctive. I'm not a chef, but I love to think about food, and I like dishes with a lot of flavor, so I'm always suggesting ideas to Toki. A lot of Japanese food is a little bit bland, so I try to find ways to boost the flavor."

The couple's sushi-to-go operation proved successful enough that Mr. Masubuchi authorized them to start looking for a spot, and Maido opened its doors in February 2004. Now Toki and Jim begin their workday at 10:30 a.m. and are typically in the restaurant until 1 a.m.

"It can be tough for a husband and wife to work together," said Toki, "but in Japan lots of small restaurants are operated by couples. We're just like any other couple, I guess," she said. Then, with a chuckle, continued, "We argue, and then I get my way."

Jim, still the romantic, said, "It's not a problem for me to work with Toki," he said. "I can be around her all day long. But I'm pretty much always out front and she's pretty much always in the back, so it's not like we're working around each other all the time. I can see that if we were cooking next to each other all day long it could be tense. I'm a pretty non-argumentative type of guy, but she's pretty fiery."

These days the couple sums up their "spare time" activities pretty succinctly: "sleep."

"I used to be one of those guys that went to concerts or clubs to hear music four or five nights a week," said Jim. "But I don't have time for that now. I'll occasionally go see a movie. And after we close, a few of us will go over to Longshot's, a tavern in the neighborhood. They have a couple of Ping-Pong tables, and like every Japanese person I've ever met, Toki is a great Ping-Pong player."

And though they're still in the start-up phase at Maido, the couple has big plans. "My father told us that if we only wanted to open one restaurant, he would not support us," said Toki. "He said that from the beginning we should plan to grow into a chain; so we plan to open a second Maido within five years."

By then, if Jim has his way, Maido will have added a couple of unique elements. "I'd like to open a sake micro-brew operation," said the veteran of Bluegrass Brewing Company and Cumberland Brews, two local microbreweries. "I think it's plausible to brew the sake on site. And I'm trying to develop a way to serve draft sake straight from the barrel."

The Chef's Table and Old Louisville Winery has a stately, old-world serenity, but Michele and Bob Brinke, who own and operate the restaurant, got connected the new-fashioned way: in 2000 they met via an internet match-making service. The couple married in 2002.

Their online profiles indicated they were both interested in cooking, music and travel. It turns out they were about as compatible as a couple can get. And compatibility is crucial for a couple each of whom, for the moment anyway, is putting in 80 hours a week.

For Michele, 43, a native of St. Matthews, restaurants have been a life-long passion. From the ages of 16 to 19 she worked in an Arby's-which wasn't quite a harbinger of things to come. Then at 20 she took a job in the kitchen at Phoenix Hill Tavern. "Most people don't believe it," she said with a chuckle, "but at that time they had a really good German chef. We opened up the Roof Garden to fine dining and served dishes like quail with peanut sauce. It was a wonderful experience, and I got bit by the bug."

For five years she worked in the kitchen at Parisian Pantry, then worked stints at Sweet & Savory, several Bardstown Road establishments and The Terrace Restaurant. After a few years as kitchen manager and chef at a retirement home, she took the risky step of becoming a freelance personal chef, taking her skills directly into the homes of her clients where she prepared meals on demand.

Before long, Michele ran up against a problem. She couldn't be in two homes at the same time; thus she couldn't meet the demand for her personal chef services. The answer was Creative Cuisine, a little Bardstown Road shop where she could prepare meals for delivery to the homes of her customers. That idea gradually expanded into brunches and dinners-and inevitably into the need to expand yet again.

Meanwhile, Bob, an Atlanta native, spent his early years traveling-first as an Army brat, then during a 21-year career in the Army. Through military travel he'd encountered the cuisines of nearly three dozen countries and 30 states, and those encounters had whetted his imagination. "I'd always dreamed about owning a restaurant," he said. But as an infantryman, drill instructor and teacher, Bob's experience in professional kitchens consisted more of heavy salivating than heavy lifting. While stationed in Germany, he worked a part-time job as an omelet and crepe chef in a restaurant a few miles from the Czech border.

When Bob and Michele met, their personal and professional lives blended almost immediately. Using Michele's rich professional experience and Bob's knowledge of wine, they began teaching continuing education courses at the University of Louisville, introducing students to cooking techniques, wine and food pairings, etc.

In an era when cooking instruction was exploding, they were in the advance guard. And their blend of instructional cooking and performance cooking is at the heart of the Chef's Table concept, which brings chefs to the table and mixes fine dining and teaching. It's an approach to dining that shatters the traditional boundaries between "front of the house" and "back of the house," but Bob says they have a simple method of dividing the responsibilities: "I do what she tells me," he laughs.

But laughter notwithstanding, it's a serious and expensive affair to open a major establishment, and Bob's business degree (from Troy State University in Alabama) is an asset, though one with limitations. "Nothing I learned in business school really prepared me for the restaurant business," said Bob. "The numbers are the same no matter what business you're in, but restaurant people are a different breed."

And people who embrace the grueling schedule the Brinkes are working are a different breed as well. They arrive at the restaurant at 9 a.m. and typically don't leave until 12 midnight. "We're together 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be," said Bob.

Michele added, "We don't expect to work this schedule forever, but during the start-up period we really have to." And by all accounts, their start-up period has been a success. The restaurant has hired new chefs with experience at fine Louisville restaurants like Limestone and Café Metro. Plans call for an international wine and cheese bar to open in July 2004, with the launch of a substantial winery operation later in the year.

These days, though, are all about work. Asked about what they do in their spare time, Michele said, in wistful tones, "We used to like to eat out."

[ owners ] Mark and Gena Wagner come back inn 909 Swan St. 627-1777

It wasn't Gena Wagner's youthful dream to own and operate a restaurant, and she'll tell you that straight up. The Kenosha, Wisconsin, native worked as a bartender at Zena's Café to earn her way through a degree program in international trade at the University of Louisville This was back when Zena's was on Market Street, and you needed a shoehorn to pry through the hubbub into the club on Friday and Saturday nights.

After graduating, she took a job working with General Electric's international affiliates in South and Central America and figured she'd live the corporate lifestyle, with reasonable hours, plenty of vacation, fun travel and evenings mostly free.

Mark Wagner, on the other hand, did dream of running a restaurant. He grew up in Chicago, working in pizza parlors, Greek diners and full-service restaurants. After a corporate downsizing left him high and dry in Louisville, he, too, took a job at Zena's, where he met and began dating Gena-his future wife. "I worked 80 hours a week," he said, "and saved up my nickels and dimes." And from the beginning, those nickels and dimes had a single purpose: to open a place that captured the essence of the Italian pubs and eateries of Chicago.

Gena may not have planned to get into the business, but she's the one who stumbled on the venue that would become the Come Back Inn. On a Friday night, she wandered into the tavern that previously occupied the spot, liked the feel of it, and mentioned to the bartender that she planned to return with her then boyfriend. "Come back within eight days," the bartender told her, "because we're going out of business."

Her first thought was, "That's too bad." Her second thought was, "Well, not really." The next day, she and Mark did return, looked the place over, begandealing with legal paperwork and-voila! In November 1996 the Come Back Inn opened. Its combination of hearty, full-flavored sandwiches and pasta, low prices and bustling Chicago-style energy immediately transformed it into one of Louisville's hottest restaurants, a spot that remains a perennial favorite among Louisville diners.

Working together is almost second nature for Mark and Gena; both of their parents worked as husband-and-wife teams. Mark's mother and father were small-business consultants and data-processing suppliers who worked out of their home. Gena's father was in the men's clothing business; her mother operated a farm. But they cooperated.

"My parents really pushed the family to work together," she said. "We just did the things you have to do. At the time it wasn't always fun-especially when our friends could go out, and we were stuck at home milking goats or helping birth horses. But it really pulled us together, and we're still a very close family. And let's face it, after you've spent some time mucking stalls nothing else ever seems all that hard to do."

For Mark, working together is the very essence of family: "I couldn't imagine a business or personal relationship any other way," he said. "I can see there are a lot of people who shouldn't work together. But the important thing for us is that Gena and I prefer to do very different things. It would drive me absolutely insane to have to do paperwork on a daily basis. Keeping up all the bookkeeping and payroll and banking information would drive me batty in a very short period of time. I prefer to be downstairs interacting with the customers, doing the hiring, training the cooks, doing the recipes, serving some drinks and telling some dirty jokes with the folks. But she likes doing those things, so our day-to-day work doesn't conflict."

The couple lives upstairs from the restaurant, so they're never far from their work. From eight in the morning until midnight, or thereabouts, Mark is downstairs dealing with vendors and kitchen prep, while Gena is upstairs taking care of the books and paperwork. "We're only separated by five feet of elevation," Mark said. "But we don't necessarily see each other. Even at night, when Gena's handling the door and front of the house and I'm working at the bar, we might be only three feet away from each other. But on a busy night, we might only exchange ten words. The key is that we don't overlap. We each have our own preferences so it's always worked out; it's absolutely imperative that I'm not stepping on her or vice versa. If a couple isn't willing to divide things up and respect what the other is doing, I can see where it could lead to fighting over the small things."

For Gena, the couple's success stems from one thing: "Courtesy," she said. "It's a big word. You just treat each other nicely every day. You say good morning, you say please and thank you, you don't take each other for granted. That's a big reason why our relationship works. When we get up in the morning we don't just grunt at each other, we actually speak to each other and welcome the day." She continued with a chuckle, "I think the division of responsibility that Mark was talking about is what makes the business profitable, but courtesy is what keeps us from killing each other!"

The business model Mark and Gena follow might not be for everyone, but it inspired their partners in the southern Indiana branch of the Come Back Inn. "They liked the idea of living above the place so much that they bought the place and became our landlords," Mark said of Jeffersonville's Chris and London Smith. "Chris does the downstairs operations, and they work together on nights and weekends."

Like other couples in this business, the Wagners work a long schedule that amounts to double shifts every day. But in recent years they reduced their hours by closing on Sundays. "We just couldn't keep up the pace and maintain the quality," said Mark. "I'd rather have people disappointed because we're not open on Sunday than to have them get here and be disappointed because Sundaydinner's not good." So these days, the couple spend their weekends relaxing, fishing, doing yard work and boating at a lakeside home they bought a few years ago.

But the business family remains a big priority. Said Gena, "The best summer we ever had, Mark and I were working here, and our nephew, my younger sister and my younger brother were working here. It was a great time because we were all related. That's really the feel of the restaurant. It's a family place. And when we're all together, it takes me back to when I was a kid." (note: The Come Back Inn has a second restaurant in Jeffersonville, Indiana, located at 415 Spring Street, 285-1777.)

Communication and empathy are essential elements of any successful business relationship, but they are especially important if your business partner is also your spouse. Michael Reidy has learned this after more than a decade of operating the Irish Rover with his wife, Siobhan.

"You can't have grudges when it's a man-and-wife team," Michael said in his lilting Irish accent. "We have our differences-everybody does-but you know you have to open the store in the morning. When a couple works together and can do it on a consistent basis, it makes you a strong team."

For the Reidys, teamwork involves juggling the two successful restaurant operations while raising two children, a 12-year-old son and an 8-year-old daughter. Siobhan Reidy said this merger of professional and personal life yields both advantages and drawbacks.

"It's a seamless combination of work and family," she said. "The biggest challenge is that you're together 24/7. But now that we have two restaurants, neither of us is in the same place on any given day. We're still learning how that is going to work out."

Michael said the partnership has worked this long because he views the restaurants as part of their home. "In Ireland they call the pub a poor man's university because you always learn things you don't want to know," he said. "You are always inviting people into your space. It's literally an extension of your front door."

Michael and Siobhan met in the early 80s at a party in New York City. Siobhan, a Smith College graduate, was working for Scribner's, the well-known publishing company. Michael said he spotted her across the room and was smitten immediately. They were married in 1986.

The couple had originally planned to stay on the East Coast, but frequent visits to the River City led them to relocate to Kentucky. "We started coming to Louisville because her family had moved here," Michael said. "Her father used to work for the Capital Holding Insurance Company. I just fell in love with the town and we decided to stay. I've never regretted the decision. It was Siobhan's father who suggested I open an Irish pub here."

The idea may sound like a no-brainer (Irish man, Irish pub) except that neither Michael nor Siobhan had any real restaurant experience before opening the Irish Rover. Siobhan did have some limited knowledge of the food industry from a cafeteria job she worked during her summer breaks from school. But Michael had to serve a self-imposed apprenticeship at various local eateries before he was confident enough to go ahead with the pub idea.

The original Irish Rover opened in 1993 on Frankfort Avenue. "I had my doubts right up until we opened the door," Siobhan said. "I'd ask myself, 'Are these numbers right? Are we going to go broke?' But we built a hugely loyal customer base right from the beginning. We've surpassed all of our expectations."

The couple recently opened a second location of the Irish Rover in LaGrange. Despite the success of their initial pub, Siobhan said she had reservations about opening another restaurant. "Having gone through opening a restaurant once, I didn't know if I wanted to do it again," she explained. "It's like having children. You have to walk away for a while and forget about the pain before you want to do it again."

The menu at each Irish Rover restaurant is based on recipes the Reidys collect on their frequent trips to Ireland. Neither of them is a chef per se, but Siobhan said her staff is always able to reproduce the dishes.

The Irish Rover has 30 employees at its Clifton location. The LaGrange location has 35, and Siobhan said she expects that number to increase as the restaurant matures.

Such a large staff can cause some scheduling headaches, which Michael said he's glad to let his wife deal with. "I add the personality," he said. "She brings a tremendous amount of organizational skills to the front of the house. I'm extremely grateful."

Despite all of the chaos and headaches involved in running two Irish Rover locations and raising kids, Michael said he and Siobhan are still having the time of their lives working together. "If it isn't fun, it isn't worth doing," he said. "Why do something this demanding if it doesn't make you happy?"

(note: The Irish Rover has a second restaurant in La Grange, located at 117 E. Main Street, 222-2286.)