PROFILE: For 40 years, John Pullaro has done Italian well [Las Cruces Sun-News, N.M.]

Sept. 01--LAS CRUCES -- <person>John Pullaro emits a polite swagger and bluntness while talking about his decades as a Las Cruces restaurant owner.

When he recalls the doubters he has encountered, Pullaro smiles. He laughs. His is not a mocking, I-told-you-so tone. He seems to think of these critics as droll extras in the story of his career as a restaurateur. How silly they are.

There were the fellow salesmen at the insurance company. They didn't think Pullaro could operate a restaurant, at least not for long.

"As I understand, they were taking bets," said Pullaro, sipping a soda and taking a break from the kitchen on a recent afternoon.

At 78, he still prepares all the food at Pullaro's Italian Restaurant, a small and almost unnoticeable establishment compared to today's large, chain eateries. Pullaro's has been a fixture on Picacho Avenue since 1972.

There was also the wife.

In the late 1960s, the couple was driving through Las Cruces, on a path from Florida to California.

Transfixed because the small desert town (population: about 35,000) was "so pretty," Pullaro told her he'd open a restaurant in Las Cruces one day.

Said Pullaro: "I didn't know anything about the town. I didn't even know the name."

His wife didn't either, but the thought of leaving lush Tampa, Fla., for tumbleweed-dry New Mexico wasn't enchanting.

She told Pullaro: "It would be without me."

As Pullaro tells the story, he doesn't miss a beat.

"I said, 'It might be without

you then,'" he recalled, before pausing. "Then it was."

They divorced, for other reasons, before Pullaro came to Las Cruces.

Having grown up in New York City, then spending much of his adult life in the metro areas of Florida, Pullaro admitted he thought of Las Cruces as a "hick town" when he first arrived.

Some of the locals didn't think he'd make it, saying that if he didn't serve Mexican food, the restaurant wouldn't survive.

"If I made Mexican, it would be the worst Mexican food in the world," Pullaro said. "But if it's Italian food, I'm here to stay."

He hasn't left since.

And he hasn't thought of hanging up his apron.

At an age when most people are well into their retirement, that's not a thought that crosses Pullaro's brain.

"Nah, I don't want to retire," he said. "I like what I do. I think it keeps me young."

It certainly helps that Pullaro's is open only five days per week, in two time windows near lunch and dinner. But preparing Italian food is in his blood.

Pullaro's father, a carpenter by trade, immigrated to New York from Sicily and eventually opened a restaurant on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Pullaro and all his siblings worked there as kids, then explored different careers as adults.

Pullaro remembers one particular conversation with his dad: "He said, 'You know, it's a shame. In New York, we had our name in lights. And none of you do now. And you're all good cooks!'"

So, Pullaro left the insurance business and opened restaurants in Florida.

His father helped him design them, incorporating a wide, rectangular, slot-style window between the dinning room and kitchen. When Pullaro moved to his current location from across the street, he followed his father's design. But he doesn't use the slot to pass food through, as his dad intended. Pullaro opts, instead, to use the space for decor and as a way to see the entering patrons -- most of which are faithful regulars.

Pullaro says he doesn't have a specialty, but wants to do everything well. That can be seen in the sturdy and expensive table bases, and the imported pecorino romano cheese.

At the same time, Pullaro doesn't take himself too seriously.

Hanging all over his restaurant are flags, for Italy and the U.S. Marines (Pullaro served four years in the 1950s). Between those banners are samples of Pullaro's humor.

There's a campy caricature figure of Dean Martin on the counter, and a sign that reads, "This place is Mafia controlled watcha you step," on the back wall.

While he was admiring the fountain in his restaurant's dinning room, Pullaro spotted a regular enter.

"Hey," he said. "Let me check on that pizza."

With that, Pullaro ambled back to the kitchen.

James Staley can be reached at (575) 541-5476. Follow him on Twitter @auguststaley.

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