by Georgia Perry
Photo by Amy Millard
Max Bonacci is cool. The kind of cool that makes me feel like I’m back in middle school and one of the football players who rides my bus is being nice to me—a scrawny, glasses-wearing girl with deodorant streaks on my hand-me-down top.
I call to interview Max, head chef at The Linkery in San Diego, his deep voice chilled out and nonthreatening; he doesn’t mind that I called, even though I’m interrupting his busy day.
“I started cooking when I was real young, with my grandma and dad. We cooked dinner every night,” he says. “Then in high school I worked at a winery for a few years.” (“I used to work at a winery, too!” I interject, forgetting that Max Bonacci is not my friend but rather an acclaimed chef who spits out interviews like this once a week.)
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