I'm not a risk taker and was certainly not expecting to glean any writing material from the experience, but the hitchhiker looked so forlorn, with his arm in a sling, that I stopped. His calling card was his Sal's Italian Restaurant and Pizzeria T-shirt, and he explained, from a safe distance, that he was the dishwasher and had to get back to work, despite the very recent diagnosis of an inflamed shoulder.

By the time we were rolling down to Sal's, I was listening to a rap about the restaurant by my new passenger, Will Parent. I gathered from Parent's poetry that Sal's was a great place to work where people were treated with dignity. That it was a family restaurant in more ways than one.

Fast-forward six months.

I am on the hunt for a story and recall my encounter with Parent. I bring up the idea of a column the next time I visit Sal's and learn that the chef from Pine Tavern has come on board.

A profile of Sal's is as complex and layered as its marinara sauce.

The sauce features plum tomatoes (and only plum) bolstered by fresh basil, garlic, which adds a little heat, and capers, which deliver a zing that makes you sit up in your chair and take notice.

Sal's has been serving Radford authentic Italian food since 1978, when Vittorio Esposito invited his nephew, Domenico Pugliese, to join him on the Virginia frontier, or so it seemed to this Italian immigrant living in Brooklyn, N.Y.

Uncle Vittorio missed big-city life and left the place to Domenico, who nurtured a small pizza stand into a full-service restaurant with a legion of loyal customers. Domenico has since moved into semi-retirement, passing the spatula to his oldest son, Giuseppe or "Joe."

Dedicated to the family enterprise since his youth, Joe Pugliese is steeped in the daily operations, claiming to be on site "eight days a week."

Radford police officer Alicia Scanlon admits to eating at Sal's at least once or twice a week.

"We're all Yankees and need good food every once in a while," the native New Yorker joked.

Scanlon had gathered for dinner with fellow officer Shannon Combs; Combs' wife, Liesl; and Stu Nelson, from the Pulaski County Sheriffs Department. Like most regulars, they comment on the care that Pugliese takes with his clientele. They asked me if I had seen his 12-page book of rules for employees.

"It's got something like 800 rules," Scanlon claimed in obvious jest. But she added more seriously: "It shows that his customers are his number one priority."

While Pugliese may run a tight ship, he earns respect and loyalty in the process, according to his staff.

General manager Patrick Dobbins; Melissa Skelton, who oversees the dining room; and waitress Tanya Covey represent a combined 33 years of experience at Sal's. Skelton put herself through college while working but has continued after graduating. "I stay here because they are good to me," she said.

The word family comes up again and again.

"We work together all the time and become like family," Pugliese said.

Cindy Smith, the new pastry chef, is called "a nice addition to the family." Another recent addition to the Sal's family, Michael Gucciardo, came on board two months ago as head chef. Pugliese knew Gucciardo through his reputation at the now closed Pine Tavern in Floyd. Gucciardo knew that Sal's was serving "real food." Pugliese encourages his imagination and talents. "Maybe I can add something," the soft-spoken Gucciardo offered.

Dobbins, who calls himself the APG (all-purpose guy), has logged 19 years as an adopted member of the Sal's brood. He stresses that the family analogy runs beyond the staff.

"The customers that come in here, we know them," he explained. "We know their families. We know what they do."

The connectivity is important. Pugliese said Sal's offers a sensibility that most successful businesses embody: building on more than the financial side.

"We're here to serve good foods and make friends."

Learn more about Sal's Italian Restaurant and Pizzeria, 709 W. Main St., in Radford, at www.salsradford.com.