Pair of Aces: Vento, Arnauld combine Italian, French heritages in Henderson restaurant

Ken Miller

Wednesday, April 27, 2005 | 8:18 a.m.

When you first meet Carmine Vento and Arnauld Briand, they seem to have an oil-and-water relationship.

Not so. Actually, it's more akin to oil and vinegar.

Vento and Briand, co-owners and operators of Vento Italian Corner & Oyster Bar, could be mistaken for irascible children, constantly tormenting, insulting and even hitting one another.

When Briand mentioned how he used to make pasta as a young boy, Vento shot back: "You didn't even know it was pasta until you met me. You called it 'noodles,'" collecting a shot in the shoulder from Briand.

Briand then countered with: "He's very insecure. That's why he shaves his legs." "I have beautiful legs," Vento retorted, unashamedly flashing some smooth skin in the process.

When Briand mentioned that his mother lives in Normandy, Vento queried: "Is she still waiting for the Americans to come?"

Their goal in life seems to be the bedevilment of one another. For each punch in the shoulder Vento gets, Briand gets a smashed finger under Vento's fist. But under the Two Stooges act lies a bond of mutual respect that no amount of joking -- and bruises -- can hide.

Though they come from widely differing backgrounds (Italian and French) and delight in insulting one another's culture, Vento and Briand have two things in common: Both came to America in relative poverty, and both have decades of cooking and restaurant management experience.

They've come to depend on one another. Without Vento, Briand feels he would not be where is today. Without Briand, Vento is sure Ventano would not be the busy, successful establishment it has become.

And, both grudgingly concede life would be much less interesting without the other. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the design of their restaurant at 191 Arroyo Grande Blvd. It was a joint effort incorporating elements of both men's experiences.

The eatery's exterior has a Tuscan look, with reddish-brown walls featuring patches of brickwork. Cast-iron is used to good effect on trellises and bars on the windows. Antique artifacts, such as a mobile wine press from the 1800s, offer something to look at while stepping outside for a smoke or to wait for a table. Patrons waiting for tables can also play video poker at the bar.

That design spills over into the interior, where large tiles in the foyer lead to dark carpeting throughout the dining area, which is split into a main room and a slightly raised area. Just off the dining area is a semicircular oyster bar, over which hangs a mural of an Italian countryside.

Two large columns frame the dining room, and a chandelier with dozens of lights hangs in the center of the room. Ten booths and 28 tables all have a view of the Strip courtesy of the large, square windows on the restaurant's north side. On days when it's too nice to eat inside, a patio dining area offers the same view.

A door with metal trim of a grapevine leads to a wine room, and those with large groups can eat in a recently added private room.

Briand describes the menu as "French-Italian," with the emphasis on Italian. Popular dishes include grilled heart of Romaine, Spiedini (breaded, skewered chicken, Parmesan and mozzarella and pomodoro sauce), osso bucco agnello (lamb shank roasted with tomato and vegetables), costolette di maiale (spare ribs slowly cooked in honey and balsamic vinegar) and Shrimp on a Rock, one of the restaurant's best sellers. And Briand always recommends that diners try his creme brulee, a custard with a crispy covering.

Briand learned a hard-work ethic at a young age and is rarely absent from his restaurant.

"I do everything here. I clean drains, wash dishes," he said. "I'm not a suit person, I'm a people person."

Vento has become one of Las Vegas' more successful entrepreneurs, opening not only Ventano but Villa Pizza and the Instant Replay chain of sports bars, with plans for more restaurants on the way.

Briand said being partners has been rough at times, but nothing two friends can't handle.

"Is the business successful or not?" he said. "It's very successful, so one day's argument is like, you know, no big deal. Life goes on."

Food for thought

Briand, 46, chose the restaurant field because, frankly, he couldn't do anything else.

"I was very bad in school," he said. "I had attention (deficit) disorder. I couldn't get A's except in math. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it."

So bad were his grades that he was transferred to a secondary school and, finally, as he calls it, "a school for rejects. I ended up in the worst school in Paris."

But growing up in Paris, Briand always had an interest in food. His grandfather owned a restaurant above the Moulin Rouge, and his mother, Francesca, would take him there often.

"They would give me food to play with there, you know, to keep me busy and shut me up," he said. "And every Wednesday, when kids are off from school, I'd be home alone making pasta."

When his older brother, Patrick, got an apprenticeship at a restaurant, Briand remembers visiting at age 8 and watching the day-to-day operations, which included slaughtering pigs and preparing pigeons (yes, pigeons).

Briand's interest in food only grew as he got older, and when his academic career appeared over at age 14, Patrick suggested he go to cooking school.

"I'd never thought of that before," he said. Briand attended the Gen Ferrandi Cooking School for two years, dividing his time between school and an apprenticeship at the Paris Hilton.

"I was very good because I did a little bit of everything," he said. "I did five months butchering, six months pastries, six months doing saute ... I got a lot of experience."

Only one problem: He still couldn't graduate.

"I had the best cooking scores in all of Paris, but I failed all the written tests," he said. "The school couldn't have their No. 1 cook fail, so they had to hide that, and they gave me all the answers. I passed this time, but barely."

Work force

But so good were Briand's skills that Paris Hilton Chef Michelle Dufresne offered him a job, either working at the Hilton or traveling abroad for the corporation.

Briand chose neither, going instead to work for Michelin three-star restaurants throughout France.

"I like risk," Briand said. "I don't like the easy way. Easy is no fun."

So, at age 16, Briand set out working at three of France's most famous restaurants: Le Notre, Michelle Guerard and Paul Bocuse. At each restaurant, he stayed just a year to get experience.

Part of it was his restless nature, and part of it was knowing that sooner or later, he had to enlist in the military.

"At 20, I enlisted in the French Army," he said. "I had my choice of being chef for the prime minister or (for) the last five-star general in Paris."

Briand spent the next year cooking for the general, and in the meantime also sold Amway products to the French Army.

"What can I say? I like money," he said.

Upon his discharge in 1984, Briand found his original employer, the Paris Hilton, waiting for him.

"They were looking for chefs for Windows of the World in the World Trade Center," he said. "That's when I came to America."

Briand worked at the World Trade Center for 18 months, and many people he got to know over the course of his career in New York were there on 9/11.

"I tried using the stairs when I worked there just for fun, and I couldn't even find my way out," he said. "Many of those people, they worked for me for years, and I knew they didn't have a chance when I first heard about it (the attacks)."

Culture shock

It didn't take Briand long to begin getting his share of rave notices. After 18 months with Cellar in the Sky, a gourmet restaurant in Windows of the World, his employer put him in charge of Cafe 43, a restaurant in Times Square.

"After two months, someone brought in the New York Daily News. People were getting so excited in the restaurant," Briand remembers. "The front page said, 'Miracle on 43rd Street.' Six months after that we were in every newspaper in New York."

To show its appreciation, the Hilton Hotels Corporation offered Briand a job as head chef at its hotel in Hawaii. He turned it down.

"One of those dumb things I did," he said. "I had an offer at the same time to open a chain of French Mexican restaurants. I thought the opportunity was good, but they (the owners) were a bunch of nut cases."

He left that venture after six months and took over a small restaurant in New York, Raphael. Around the same time, he got married and had a daugher, Alix, now 19.

After two years at Raphael the grind of New York living got to Briand, and he sought ways to get out.

"I realized my daughter was a year old and I had hardly seen her," he said. "I called headhunters everywhere to get me out of the city."

Back and forth

Briand's move to Las Vegas came in 1989 when he was offered the head chef job at Palace Court at Caesars Palace.

"I loved it there," he said. "It was the big days of Vegas. The customer was king."

His now-ex-wife went back to New York in 1994 to attend law school, and Briand moved back the following year so Alix could be close to her mother.

As much as he didn't want to go back, Briand was offered a job as head chef at the Rainbow Room (which was featured last week on NBC's "The Apprentice").

"That's one of those offers you can't really turn down," he said. "But it was rough. It's an old restaurant. The kitchen is on the 64th floor and the dining room is on the 65th floor. They do 1,200 covers (meals) a night. It was insane."

Briand's ex-wife graduated two years later and moved to Los Angeles. He decided to move back to Las Vegas.

"I never wanted to live in New York," he said. "I'm not a big-city guy."

In 1997, Briand was offered a job at the Desert Inn and took it immediately. It was while working at the Desert Inn that Briand met Vento.

From riches to rags

Vento, 56, and his family left a life of prosperity to come to America. His father, Frank, was a master carpenter in his hometown of Milazzo, Sicily, and his mother, Concetta, operated a delicatessen out of their home.

As good as his father had it in Milazzo, he believed he could have it even better in America, Vento said. He moved his family stateside when Carmine was just 9 years old, and things didn't go well.

"We couldn't speak English," he said. "And my father couldn't find work as a carpenter. He had to wash dishes in a pastry shop, and my mother ended up in a sweatshop."

Vento's father always stressed that his son work to help the family. "At age 15, I was told to get out and earn a living," he remembers.

So Vento quit school that year and went to find the best-paying work for the best hours.

Pizza was the best option.

For the next three years Vento worked at a variety of pizza restaurants, learning along the way all the aspects of the business. But he never liked it.

"I didn't like that kind of work because of the hours, but it was the only job that paid anything," he said. "I didn't want to do it. I had to do it."

Like Briand, Vento also served in the military. From age 18 to 20, he served as a supply clerk at Ft. Carson, Colo., and later served as an assistant drill instructor at Ft. Dix, N.J.

"By being in that position, I learned how to talk to people and get them to do what you want without yelling at them," he said.

Pulled back in

Vento tried other jobs once out of the service -- painting, installing telephones, clerical work -- but the real dough was in pizza.

"I made the commitment I wouldn't work in a pizza place, but I just couldn't stick to it," he said.

But through his pizza place experiences, Vento encountered several chefs who knew how to cook authentic Italian food.

"I worked with them and learned a trade besides pizza," he said. "That's when I learned the restaurant trade."

In 1971, Vento married, and he realized he couldn't keep flitting from job to job. He went to work for a pizza parlor in a mall in Staten Island, a job that lasted nearly four years.

By 1975, Vento had saved up $12,000, and wanted to start his own business.

But first, he and his wife, Annie, needed a vacation. "We'd never had a proper honeymoon," he said. Las Vegas seemed appropriate.

"Within four days of getting here, I realized we could put $1,800 down and buy a house, and that's what we did," Vento said.

He opened his first restaurant, Villa Pizza, in February 1976, but not without a little help.

"A man named Bob Lawrence, who owned Pear Shape Restaurant Supplies, took a chance on me," Vento said. "He didn't know me at all, but he staked me in my business. I'll never forget it."

He was able to pay Lawrence back quickly. Villa Pizza was an instant success, and Vento opened six others over the next few decades. In 1990 he began the Instant Replay chain, and sold Villa Pizza in those bars.

The combination was a hit. Instant Replay grew to eight locations before Vento decided to sell most of them off. The two he still operates are now called Instant Replay/Carmine's Little Italy.

Vento said his initial grudge against pizza parlors vanished the day he opened his first one.

"What I used to hate about the business, I now love," he said. "There's nothing better I could be doing right now."

Blessed union

Vento and Briand met in 1998 while planning the wedding reception at the Desert Inn for Vento's oldest child, Frank.

"Arnauld had known me by reputation for some time," Vento said. "He liked my operations and the way I did business. My sports bars were serving things like osso bucco. He was impressed."

The two men continued to keep in contact long after the wedding, and when the Desert Inn closed in 2000, Briand suggested starting a business together.

It didn't take long to come to a decision. Ventano was opened in 2002. The name is a phonetic combination of "Vento" and "Arnauld."

Both men consider Las Vegas their home, and both are taking full advantage of their success.

Vento will soon be opening three more restaurants in Southern Nevada -- one for each of his children, Frank, 33, Jon Jon, 30, and Connie, 27.

And Briand and his second wife, Stacey, 34 (he remarried in 2000), are in the process of adopting a baby, and Alix helps at the restaurant whenever she's on break from the University of Utah.

Briand credits Vento with giving him the freedom to do what he wants.

"I'm a millionaire because of Carmine," he said. "None of the places he opened ever went under, and banks just throw money at him. I could never do that."

Vento said the key to his success is probably his ability to choose the right people for the job, including Briand.

"One of the things that attracted me to him was that other chefs had egos I couldn't handle," he said. "He didn't have the kind of ego I couldn't get along with. I respect his knowledge and vice versa."

And despite his early struggles, Vento has never regretted the day his family set foot in America.

"I am the reality of the American dream," he said. "I've been very lucky. If someone asks me how I did it, I can't say."

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