Home means something different to everyone. The place where you live. Being with the people you love. Where you come from. For me home is where I spend my days; our little Hillcrest apartment, my sister Jessica’s house, this restaurant. It is the people I spend my life with; my family, my friends, all of you. It is where I came from; the trees, the crick, the memories.

I am from a village in Western New York. Population 300ish. Don’t sneeze, you’ll miss it. Millport was a quaint place to grow up. My grandpa was a taxidermist. We learned to hunt, fish & grow our own vegetables in spring and summer. We played in the woods, caught water skippers in the crick and fireflies at night. Lilacs in the spring and snowmen in the winter.

It took me many years to appreciate Millport and Western New York. Only in my 30’s did I see it’s profound beauty and begin to truly value the gifts of my childhood.

Several years ago I was inspired by my dear friend, Susan, to chase this crazy dream of being a chef.  What started as pop up dinners around San Diego, turned into Millport.  Weekend brunch spot, coffee joint, market & dinner events.  Millport is a dream.  A labor of love.  Earned through years of hard work, relentless pursuit, loving support from my family & friends and the encouragement & memory of Susan.