Although Mr. Brown often assumes he is the weakest link in any chain, he holds strong opinions. A question about why he makes barbecued potato chips by smoking potato slices over wood chips on the stove when they sell perfectly good barbecue chips at the store propels him into a monologue on the state of hospitality in America.

“I’m going to make you these chips,” he said. “You’re going to eat them and say, ‘Thank you.’ The time we spent together making them is a valuable piece of the hospitality equation. The taking in that equation is even more important than the giving. But here in this country, we have decided to replace ‘thank you’ a great deal with ‘I can’t eat that.’”

When he’s on a roll like this, it’s best to let him keep going.

“Unless you have a medical bracelet that says celiac, shut up and eat the food,” he said. “We want to be so special. We not only want to be special for our cooking, we want to be special for our eating. There are times when vegetarians should shut up and eat the pork chop.”

Still, for all his forcefulness and clarity on any number of topics, Mr. Brown seems to be seeking clarity on matters more internal. “I’m not where I thought would be at this point in my life,” he said, “but I’m wiser by a long shot.”

Still, he said, taking another sip of sangria, “I don’t really know what I am anymore.”

Then he got up off the porch swing and headed back to his kitchen.

“Funny business,” he said, “this living.”

Recipes: Breakfast Carbonara | Char Burgers