There’s a word among sitcom writers for a line that just doesn’t work.
“They say, ‘It’s a Bono,’ ” said Agostino Sciandri, co-owner and executive chef of Ago, which has been open for about a year on Melrose Ave. in West Hollywood.
The joke has particular resonance for Sciandri. His restaurant is located in the same spot as the old Bono restaurant owned by the late entertainer-turned-politician Sonny Bono which is among the five eateries that have closed or moved away from the site since the 1970s.
All American Burger, Bono, Silvio, Caruso, Cicada they have all been located at 8478 Melrose. (Bono and Cicada had the longest life spans, around five years, and Caruso had the shortest, about six months.)
Why are some addresses cursed? Industry experts stress there is no easy or obvious answer. Some restaurants do well in alleys, some struggle on busy streets. Some make it in locations where parking is impossible, others fail where parking is plentiful.
Moving into a location where other restaurants have failed often represents one of the ultimate challenges for any restaurateur.
“Sometimes, you hear all these reasons and they’re believable and understandable. But nobody really knows why (restaurants fail),” said Karen Berk, co-editor of the L.A. Zagat Survey. “There have been a lot of different restaurant locations in L.A. that never seem to work. You can take any space and rationalize and justify why. There’s still an intangible issue there.”
Silvio De Mori, who operated Silvio at the Melrose address, said of the turnover issue: “You are asking a really hard question. Sometimes restaurants are changing for 10 years and then, boom, one stays forever.” DeMori now owns Mimosa, a French bistro located a few blocks away on Beverly Boulevard.
Sciandri, well known in local restaurant circles for starting up Toscana in Brentwood, says he is mystified about the location’s past problems, given that it’s well situated between the studios of Hollywood and wealth of Beverly Hills. And it’s a stand-alone property, as opposed to being on the ground floor of an office building, which some real estate brokers consider to be the highest-risk restaurant location.
The pale-yellow building sits several blocks west of the main Melrose shopping district, amid a hodgepodge of antique shops, a sheepskin outlet, an elementary school, Mediterranean and shrimp eateries and apartment buildings. Ago is also near the busy intersection of Melrose and La Cienega Boulevard, which is both good news and bad.
“It’s hard to find. The first time I went there, we drove in circles before we realized where it was,” said Debby Zurzolo, an attorney who often represents restaurants and dines often at Ago. “From the La Cienega side, you won’t see it at all.”
But Stephanie Taupin, owner of Cicada, said she didn’t have “a location problem” at the site. She chose to move to the larger space in the Oviatt Building in downtown L.A. (formerly occupied by Rex II Ristorante) after five successful years on Melrose.
“The location was ideal,” Taupin said.
Bono was the first to enclose the initial All American Burger structure, which had outside patio seating. But some of the successors didn’t necessarily invest much into making a new statement, Sciandri said.
“The furniture was 20 years old. Nobody spent a lot of money. There were buckets all over when it was raining,” he said. “The players changed but the music stayed the same.”
Instead of just hanging out a new shingle, Sciandri said, he invested $1.5 million into remodeling. The new space, he said, is unrecognizable from its past incarnations. As the Zagat Survey notes: “Chances are good Sciandri will survive after all, he virtually leveled the old structure to rid it of its bad karma.”
Sciandri kept the outside walls, but added windows, moved the bar to the front and moved the entrance from the Melrose side to the rear. He also opened up the kitchen so it is visible from the dining room, added an industrial-esque ceiling with light fixtures hung on metal racks, fixed the leaking roof and added $120,000 worth of landscaping to the outside, including cypress and olive trees.
“Everything basically is brand new,” Sciandri said. “The feel is very Los Angeles, a mixture of Italy meets L.A. It’s very comfortable.”
De Mori noted that Sciandri has a successful track record in L.A. A native of Tuscany, he worked as a chef at various upscale hotels and restaurants in Europe before moving to L.A. in 1985 and becoming the chef at Il Giardino.
Ten years ago, Sciandri founded Toscana, which Berk said is “still one of the hardest restaurants to get into,” as well as Terrazza Toscana in Encino and Rosti, a chain of Italian takeout restaurants.
Ago took in about $3 million in revenues in its recently completed first year, and the restaurant draws 1,400-1,600 patrons per week a little under Sciandri’s goal of 1,500-1,800. Many of Ago’s patrons work at talent agencies, studios or the Pacific Design Center, or are guests of nearby hotels, he said.
In the beginning, the restaurant enjoyed considerable buzz when word got out that several of the financial backers were celebrities including actor Robert DeNiro, directors Tony and Ridley Scott, and Miramax Films co-founders Bob and Harvey Weinstein. But such buzz doesn’t last forever, nor is it enough to provide staying power at a notoriously fickle locale, Sciandri noted.
“You’ve got to give something to the client more than food ambiance and feeling,” he said. “You’ve got to have your own personality, look and food and way to do things and keep to that line.”
But even that is not enough to explain why some restaurants last decades and others fizzle after a matter of months. Clearly, it’s more than an address.
“I don’t think anyone knows exactly what makes a success. Sometimes you do everything and still don’t succeed,” Sciandri said. “I’ve been in business in L.A. 15 years and I’m still surprised at the restaurants going in and out.”
Now it’s Ago’s turn to make what’s considered a “phantom location” into a successful enterprise. “I think this restaurant’s going to stay here a long time,” Sciandri said confidently in his thick Italian accent. “All in all, we’re happy here.”
