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introduction

My arrival in the Hocking Hills has brought a culinary and outdoor journey full circle. Like many chefs, I grew up in a home that centered around a love of food, as well as the business of food. Both my Italian father and my grandfather were involved in the food business. When I was a young boy, Saturdays meant going to one of the grocers my father did business with and getting to eat whatever specialties they were making that day. The sights, smells, tastes, and characters of those trips have never left my memory. Combine that with a mother who approached cooking not as a chore, but as a subtle passion. Dinner was almost always at the dinner table in the dining room, and everybody was always welcome. Food was real and not to be confused with any pseudo ingredients; she had always claimed that margarine was not something people should eat and, during the craze of “butter is bad,” that they would one day come to realize the error of their ways. She firmly believed that if it was natural and had been eaten for all of time, it was not to be messed with. I never knew how much this affected me until I struck out on my own.

Growing up, I loved being outdoors. As my wings grew, I took any opportunity to go hiking, backpacking, canoeing—anything that got me out into the beauty of nature. I embraced the changing of the seasons. I loved not only the striking visual changes each season brought, but also all of the seasonal smells. When I was old enough to drive, I would tell my folks that I’d go to the later Mass at church on my own. What they didn’t know was that my church was one of the local parks and that my worship was celebrating the natural beauty around me as I hiked. I decided my calling was to become a park naturalist, somebody who was outdoors and interacting with people. I did just that, eventually working for the National Park Service in Washington State. It was a dream job in a dream location . . .


You can’t deny genetics. I was meant to make a living with food. It has the most overwhelming draw on me. The people, the process, the universal language of food. No words are needed to bring vastly different people together when food is the bond. I left the Park Service to pursue all things food, going to culinary school in Vermont and trying to find my niche. I worked my way around all different types of foods in many different places, but the beauty of my mother’s southeastern Ohio kept calling. I settled in and embraced all the area has to offer, a stunning wild landscape as well as a vibrant food community.

The Hocking Hills area is where I’ve been able to unite my two greatest joys. When an opportunity came to start a restaurant within one of the most spectacular parks the state has to offer, as well as to work alongside many friends from my park days, I couldn’t resist the lure. The first restaurant my partner and I started was at Lake Hope State Park, quickly followed by taking over the operation at Hocking Hills State Park as well. Running a restaurant adjacent to the most heavily visited state park meant unpredictable extremes in both the number of diners each day and the wildly varied requests. Not only did we have thousands of day-trippers coming to the area, but there are hundreds of unique private cabins and lodging options in the Hocking Hills. Fortunately, those looking to be “away from it all” still appreciate well-prepared, scratch-made food. This combination was too appealing—getting to cook local specialties for appreciative guests in a stunning natural setting that ebbs and flows with the seasons. During the peak of the tourist season, when local produce is plentiful, it takes all we have to feed so many. My favorite time of the year in the Hocking Hills is winter. The pace slows, we get to spend more time with our guests, and the locals come to catch up with one another. Combine that with a magical snowfall that blankets the dense hemlocks and a hearty meal next to the fire. It really doesn’t get much better.


I hope that this book will be a warm reminder of your experiences in this unique region or a draw for those who have not yet visited.



A Taste of the Hocking Hills

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