Raised on the western edge of the Appalachian Mountains in rural Pennsylvania, Dave spent a lot of time with his family.  They lived a simple, mature life in a time when much of the rest of America considered itself coming of age.  In a time of sex drugs and rock and roll, they continued to work hard and to gather and raise much of their own food, staying together and sane not as some sort of a social statement, but simply because that was how they had always done it.
     Dave often spent time with his grandparents, and, like most folks of an earlier age considers himself a jack-of-all-trades, and, arguably, a master of none.   Farmers, miners and mill workers they were, and are, a simple people.  On Sundays, when the family would gather at the grandparent’s house, the men would usually gather in the living room and compare the daily activities in their various mines.  The women would usually gather in the kitchen for snacks and catch up.  No matter their interests, everyone usually ended up in the kitchen eating.
     The only merit badge Dave earned in Cub Scouts was for cooking a stew out of leftovers.   Soon after, he was asked to leave for fist fighting with the town kids and a general lack of respect for unearned authority.
     In high school, Dave’s legendary appetite led him to enroll in various cooking electives to supplement his already oversized lunches.  Wasting his free time building jalopies to drag race on Friday nights; Saturday mornings would often find him replacing an engine.  To supply the manpower need to lift v-8s recovered from local junkyards, word would go out that Dave was making pies for anyone who helped. His parent would arrive home to find half a dozen greasy farm kids eating pie made from Mom’s home canned peaches raided out of the cellar.
    Dave tried for some years to fit in with the modern world.  Once years ago, a friend observed that Dave was "truly a man of the 90's, unfortunately of  the 1890's."
    After a stint as a corporate lackey, Dave bought a restaurant on a whim.
     “Hey, I was having a bad day at work,” he was quoted as saying.
     After another decade of successes and a failed marriage, he has moved on to other endeavors.  Now residing in his beloved mountains, Dave lives with his two noisy children on a quiet stream, still searching for the quiet balance and simple life that continues to elude him. To that end, he is regularly visited by his beautiful fiancé who humors his eccentricities and encourages his explorations.
     Refusing to acknowledge much of the 20th and now 21st centuries,  he continues to live a simplified life.  Dedicated to the preservation of food heritage, ingredients and techniques, Dave researches and records both quaint and forgotten dishes as well as modern ways to prepare them.  Seeing himself as a bridge to the past he offers private classes, is working on a book series, and just generally makes himself a pest wherever he goes.