Most of Martorano's staff has been with him for more than a decade, and they answer to his pet nicknames: Noodles, Mikey Muscles, Bibz, Drama, Scotty the Body, Nunzio, Flea, Dika, Boom Boom, and Pee Wee. Servers were scrubbing, mopping, and wiping down every square inch we would have to move our table a couple of times so they could get under it. I met Martorano for the first time late one afternoon a couple of hours before the place opened for the night, as low sunlight slid through the high windows onto gleaming white tile floors and chrome bar stools. Martorano is chef and owner of 15-year-old Café Martorano in Fort Lauderdale, a prosperous man running the most successful restaurant in the city. Only Martorano's left calf is ink-free: A mean pink scar where surgeons stole a vein for a triple bypass last year runs seven inches below his knee. Frank Sinatra looks out from under his trademark fedora on one shoulder on the other, the title of an Intruders song reads "I'll Always Love My Mama." Most of Martorano's right calf is taken up with the image of Padre Pio, the modern-day saint who bled from his hands and heart for 50 years - until death finally put an end to his public suffering. Steve Martorano's heroes are tattooed across his six-foot, 240-pound frame.
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