Dunn remembered walking out the home’s front door for long walks in the vineyards, hearing fake cannon shots going off to frighten away birds from eating grapes.
“It’s just a very different type of living,” he said. “Just getting an appreciation of how hard they really work and how weather-dependent they are. I remember when the weather wasn’t great, and you could lose a whole cycle, or your vines could be totally destroyed.
“So, when I see a bottle of wine, I always think about how much time and effort was actually put into it. And just have somewhat more of an appreciation of someone kind of grinding their own way rather than just throwing a bunch of stuff in a factory and letting a machine do it.”
Rhonda Pavan remembers Dunn being intensely focused on hockey but always respectful.
“He loves his family like crazy,” she said. “You could see that. But, I mean, he loved us like family, and we loved him back. He was very, very kind – wanting to be a part of everything we did. There was never an issue, never a problem. It just broke my heart when he left.”
When Dunn won a Stanley Cup with St. Louis in 2019, both the Vendettis and Pavans celebrated with him in Lindsay when he got to keep the trophy for a day.
Last summer, his taste in food and wine ever broadened, Dunn visited Italy for the first time and also Portugal. The trips were heavily food and wine-influenced, his Portuguese stay in the country’s wine-producing Douro River Valley with the Italian portion focused on the Tuscany and Piedmont regions.
Dunn is a big fan of Brunello di Montalcino red wine, made in Tuscany from Sangiovese grapes. He hopes to get more into red Burgandy wines from France, made with the Pinot Noir grapes he liked as a child.
His grandmother, who now lives permanently with Dunn’s mom and adoptive father, is impressed with Dunn’s culinary growth. The organic, high-end meats and produce he’ll bring home to them in Ontario from overseas or American specialty shops – not to mention premium bottles of wine – show he never stopped appreciating her early kitchen lessons.
“He’d be playing with the pots and pans, and I’d put cereal in the pot and let him stir,” his grandmother said. “But then, when he got a little bit bigger, he wanted to be up on the counter. He used to say, ‘Nana, cook, cook, cook.’
“So, I’d sit him on the counter, and whether I was doing pasta sauce or pasta, we’d do the ingredients together. He’d be mixing them. We’d do meatballs, and he’d just love it. As long as he was in the kitchen with food."