Angelo's of Burien is still about food and family

For 51 years, the Ricci family of Burien has occupied a corner of Southwest 153rd Street and Sixth Avenue Southwest — serving food to friends and neighbors. In 1957, when Burien was a growing city near the airport and before there was a Southcenter mall, Angelo Ricci opened a small Italian deli. He and wife, Armella, offered meats and cheeses and homemade potato salad, and did a brisk business selling soda and mixers to customers of a neighboring liquor store. They also sold wicker baskets, a novelty at the time, that were strung from the ceiling because there was no room anyplace else. "To this day, I still have one or two," says Armella, 85.

The liquor store is gone, but that space is now a banquet room behind the kitchen at Angelo's, an Italian-American family eatery that has grown to 10 times the size of the original deli, and where there's always a Ricci in the kitchen or at the front door. Over half a century, the big Italian family has outlasted shoe stores, barbers and tile shops; held Ricci Olympics in the parking lot; and watched the neighborhood and city change around them.

"The Burien retail community was pretty devastated by Southcenter," said Mark Ricci, 57, the second of nine Ricci children. "People would move out, and we'd take over the space."

Mark started working at the deli at age 7, when his main job was to keep the cooler full of soda. He's now manager of the down-home Angelo's in Burien, which has a sister restaurant in Bellevue (1830 130th Ave. N.E., 425-883-2777), as well as a coffee and wine bar, 909 Coffee and Wine, down the street from the Burien restaurant.

Angelo's never did much advertising, preferring to let word-of-mouth spread among neighbors and at school and church. In the early 1960s, Angelo's served spaghetti and salad for $1.95; a medium Kansas City steak cost $4.95. Angelo made spaghetti sauce at home and took it to his colleagues at Boeing, who returned the favor by patronizing the restaurant.

"My dad was kind of a character, so people would come to see him," Mark Ricci said.

Angelo would sing "On the Road to Mandalay" and serve spaghetti, and argue with customers who wanted to put ketchup on their steaks. There was no such thing as a well-done steak in Angelo's kitchen, and there most certainly was no ketchup.

All of the Ricci kids — Mike, Mark, Ron, Richard, Phil, Kathy, Lisa, Larry and Frank — grew up working in the family business, and most of them still do.

"Most of us are behind in the kitchen area, and more of the wives and spouses have taken over the front of the house," said Richard Ricci, who manages the Bellevue restaurant. "I would say there are one or two Riccis in the restaurant at all times. I don't think any other business does that."

The Riccis are on a first-name basis with many of their regulars, who often request their favorite corner tables at the Burien restaurant: 1, 4 or 7.

"We have third-generation customers," Armella said.

Fred and Patricia Ronhaar have been dining there for 40 years, ever since they moved from Enumclaw to Burien and visited Angelo's on the recommendation of their doctor in Enumclaw. Since retiring, the Ronhaars eat at Angelo's two or three times a week and have their Christmas party there every year.

"Part of this experience is the family. They are just great," Patricia Ronhaar said. "And the menu — you can count on it. Besides the specials, the things on the menu remain exactly the same."

Its staff is also loyal: Muriel Zacher started as a waitress at Angelo's on Christmas Eve 1962. She continues to work the lunch shift a couple of days a week.

"People are very comfortable seeing the same people cooking and waiting on you," Mark Ricci said. "They're comfortable with the sameness."

Angelo died in 1993 after a long illness, but the restaurant bearing his name remains mostly the same, with a few minor exceptions. The family installed two windows in the dim, formerly windowless dining room three years ago — a move that didn't sit well with some of the old-timers, Mark Ricci said. "I guess we didn't ask them."