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This will require a little explanation.
A year ago, I was about to interview John Stamos on the occasion of the second and sadly final season of his wonderful Disney+ series “Big Shot,” and in the course of a work meeting asked whether anyone had any questions for him.
“Ask him where he goes for good Greek food in Los Angeles,” suggested Vanessa Franko, an assistant editor on The Times’ audience engagement team. I did, and by way of answer, he made her a video.
It turned out that, in addition to sharing Greek heritage, they both grew up working in their respective parents’ restaurants. And with the release on Tuesday of Stamos’ memoir, “If You Would Have Told Me” (Henry Holt & Co.) — a sweet but unsparing chronicle of highs and lows from what he regards as, overall, a lucky life — it occurred to me it might be interesting to put the two of them together to talk about parents, food, restaurants, Greekness and his book. Illustrated with inspirational notes from his late mother, “If You Would Have Told Me” recalls life as an awkward teen and teen idol, the “Full House” years, nights on Broadway, loves won and lost and won, close friendships with Bob Saget and Don Rickles and four decades of sitting in on drums with the Beach Boys.
Watch Stamos make Fasolakia with our audience editor, Vanessa Franko.
One thing led to another, and on a pleasant October afternoon we arrive at Stamos’ house to talk, where, at his suggestion, Franko will show him how to prepare a Greek dish; he claims to have none in his repertoire. (He has cooked a lot of short-order eggs in his time, though.)
“I like cooking,” Stamos says to Vanessa — first names seem appropriate to the day — by way of greeting. “My dad taught me a lot. But I don’t like to cook alone, so I’m waiting for you.”
He lives in a leafy, suburban neighborhood whose low-lying ranch houses, lack of sidewalks and mini-mansions recalls the Valley of 60 years ago. It’s a place you’d imagine someone famously fond of Disneyland would live. (The car from the Dumbo ride that sits in his living room seems neither ostentatious nor odd.) The house is decorated for Halloween.
Vanessa has brought the ingredients; John supplies the utensils. His 5-year-old son, Billy, whose drawings decorate the refrigerator and whose “chore chart” is posted at his eye level, will be in and out of the room. (Later, Vanessa will read him picture books.)
They stand side by side at a kitchen island, knives ready.
— Robert Lloyd
The conversation has been edited for clarity and length.
Vanessa: We’re going to make fasolakia.
John: That was dad’s favorite.
Fasolakia, a Greek dish with green beans, potatoes, tomatoes, onions and dill.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Vanessa: It’s Greek green beans. It’s really a comforting dish. Unlike some things in Greek cooking [which seem] so homey and simple, but are actually not, this one’s actually simple. It’s green beans with tomatoes, potatoes, onions, olive oil, dill. It’s the simplest thing. It serves beautifully. It’s good for a hot day when it’s cold and good for a cold day when it’s warm.
John: It’s like me, a good home-cooked meal — that’s how I think of myself.
Vanessa: It brings people together.
John: Now, here’s the secret. [He gets out a tube of “Greek seasoning.”] I have whole cases of it.
Vanessa: You have to have it. It’s not really a Greek kitchen if —
John: Have you been to Greece?
Vanessa: No.
John: I went for my 60th birthday. Friends of mine have invited us over there a long time. I don’t mean to drop names — Tom Hanks. Rita [Wilson’s] a dear friend and Nia [Vardalos] too. And so they were all over there and they’ve been asking us to go every summer. And finally, this year [Stamos’ wife] Caitlin arranged it, and it was absolutely magical. I’ve been maybe five or six times — I got to take my dad there before he passed away, and every time I go, I see my dad in everything. But I wasn’t feeling him this time; it was strange. It’s been close to 20 years [since he died] so like every year it just gets further and further — and I hate it. But Billy was asking about my dad there. Oh, that’s it! I’m seeing my dad through him now. And it was really special. Has your dad passed away?
Vanessa: No, my parents are still —
John: Should we call them?
John FaceTimes Vanessa’s parents and gets the story of their courtship.
With “Big Shot,” on Disney+, the “Full House” veteran has found the perfect part in a lovely show. Perhaps the Stamossance is already here.
Vanessa: One of the things that really struck me is how important family is for you. Do you want to slice the potatoes?
John: Sure. What kind of slicing?
John Stamos recounts his teenage years, acting career and the ups and downs of his personal life in his new memoir, “If You Would Have Told Me.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Vanessa: Chop it in half. [John chops.] That was impressive. And then in quarters.
John: I’ll do the onion and then I can pretend like I’m crying because it’s a very emotional —
Vanessa: Well, we’re going to talk about some emotional things. Like you, I grew up in restaurants. And in your book, when you’re talking about the Sunday eggs. And that one guy who gets that —
John: One jackass. You had, like, 15 [burners], you had the hash browns — so you’re flipping — I mean, there were maybe 12 pans, right?
Vanessa: We had the flat top, so I had to try not to break them. I had, like, the egg graveyard.
John: Right, right, right. We had a 99-cent special — two eggs, any style, sausage or bacon, toast and then some a— would come in and [ask for a] certain kind of rye.
Vanessa: Butter only on one side.
John: Line’s going down the street, this guy’s asking for butter only on one side. But I loved it. Did you?
Vanessa: I did. But I’ll tell you what. I didn’t eat eggs for a very long time after it.
John: So I got “General Hospital.” I remember I called home and everybody gathered around the phone. I said, “I got bad news — I got it!” I could hear screaming. And you could hear my dad — “Make sure you don’t work on Sundays. I need you on Sundays.” I started the show and I’d still work on Sundays. There’s 30 million people watching and I got pulled into this teen idol stuff. But I’m still working at the restaurant.
Vanessa: Fans start coming by. Was that awkward or was it funny — especially when the breakfast rush is happening, and you’re trying not to burn the eggs?
John: Look, I wanted to be famous so bad I didn’t give a damn. I just loved it, you know? I don’t know if he kept me just to drill the discipline in, or it was good for business, maybe. The other thing I discovered, looking back, was I think he built the business for me. I think he was a little heartbroken. Now I go, “Oh, what a beautiful thing he did.” What I learned from him, he treated the busboy the same way he treated his best customer. And it just never left me. Once he saw that I got that — he came to the set and he saw the way I treated everybody — then he said, “All right, you’re good.”
Vanessa: When I read that, I thought, that is my dad. As long as you’re a kind person, you do right by your family, he’s going to be loyal to you. He’ll give you the shirt off his back. And the whole work ethic. I really relate to that, being 14 and working in the family business. Your dad, was he the cook at home?
John: Yeah, he was the cook. My mom tried to cook once and we said, “Don’t do that anymore.” She cooked OK. But they didn’t know what good food was. You know, it was like, “It’s chicken, you fry it.”
John Stamos on working with his father at the family restaurant: “What I learned from him, he treated the busboy the same way he treated his best customer. And it just never left me.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Vanessa: What was the favorite thing your dad made?
John: He made this a lot. He would make this, but put a big, big leg of lamb in there. Stew, like this kind of stew. He liked to cook — cigarette ashes might have —
Vanessa: Seasoned it.
John: My dad was great at marinades. He was a great barbecuer. He would marinate for days, chicken and souvlaki. I would have cast parties at my house, “General Hospital” and “Full House.” My dad would be out on the grill, [he] just loved it. But I remember at one point, a couple of actors were like, “Oh, no, I don’t eat meat.” [Mimicking his father:] “They can do cocaine, but they can’t eat meat.”
Vanessa: So we’re just getting the onions to soften a little bit and then we’re going to put the potatoes in and get a little bit of oil and then we’re going to put in the green beans. Now we just let it go.
Another thing, I was a music reporter for a very long time, and I know you’re very good friends with Mike Love. And the Beach Boys played San Bernardino, maybe like 12 or 13 years ago — we had a wonderful conversation.
John: Was I there?
Vanessa: No, you were filming. We talked about transcendental meditation and the staying power of the Beach Boys.
John: I have the greatest seat in the house behind Mike, and to see the power that he throws out there and see it come back, people standing up and no political bull—, you know — it blends them together, and it’s just so needed now. That’s a home-cooked meal.
Stamos reflects on more than 35 years of friendship with his beloved ‘Full House’ co-star, who died Jan. 9 at 65.
Vanessa: Were the drums the first instrument you played?
John: Yeah. I had some crappy little drum set. Well, early on, I was into puppets and magic, and I realized I wasn’t getting the girls. So then I switched to music. But rhythm, it’s been a big part of my acting — I can feel rhythm and timing.
Vanessa: It was a big thing on “Full House” when the Beach Boys were on board.
John: People tell me they got turned on to the Beach Boys from watching that show. That’s the greatest gift I could give them.
Vanessa: Can you hand me the dill? So I just put in some diced tomatoes. Tomato sauce. You don’t want too much water because you want the water to kind of evaporate. Salt and pepper. It’s just that easy!
John: How about Greek seasoning, no?
Vanessa: Yeah, let’s throw some in. Forget salt and pepper, let’s put some Greek seasoning in. That’s perfect. And then we just let it simmer.
John: That’s not going to be enough food to feed this whole gigantic crew. I’ll make some pizza after.
Vanessa: I feel like you are the the golden god of the Greek Americans.
John: Well, I mean, there’s a few others. We have sort of a Greek mafia, you know, in town. We hang out with Rita and Nia. There’s a guy, [former film executive] Jim Gianopulos, who has Easter every year. Demetri Martin. I got invited to the White House, it was a Greek day, and President Obama comes in: “You’re about the best-looking Greek in the world.” “Don’t say that too loud, there’s other Greeks around here. [Zach] Galifianakis is OK looking. “
I was supposed to do this movie, “La Bamba.” I just thought, this is not right. I don’t really feel right playing Ritchie Valens, a Mexican. My father goes, “‘Anthony Quinn — a Mexican played a Greek [in ‘Zorba the Greek’]. A Greek can play a Mexican.”
My favorite memories of him were going to the racetrack. My parents weren’t showy at all; they were very humble and we had enough money, but my dad saved his money so the kids could go to college. He didn’t have fancy cars, but he liked to go to the racetrack. I would get programs as people were leaving the second or third race, and then I would sell them for half price to people coming in late. I’d make three or four bucks a night. One time I got caught, [they sent me to] the little jail down, you know, below. The horse track jail.
Vanessa: The notes from your mom are so beautiful.
A closeup of John Stamos’ memoir, which includes handwritten notes from his mother to him.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
John: It’s so funny because the first chapter [of the book,] I talk about this terrible DUI. One of the first letters I found, she says, “Don’t ever give the devil a ride because he will end up doing the driving.” And maybe at my lowest moment in my life, I found this one in her house. It said, “Don’t be sad because I died. Be happy because I lived. I had a wonderful life.”
Vanessa: It was so beautiful. And what a moment to find just the message that you needed. How wonderful to have parents who were just so supportive.
John: I know. I’m so grateful. And you too, right? They were just, you know, go do whatever you could do. Just be a good person, study and try to work hard. My naivete, I think it was part of my success because I was so dumb. I thought I could just do whatever I wanted to.
I wanted to be famous so bad. It really took me a minute to turn from the caterpillar into a butterfly. And when that happened, it’s such a weird thing to all of a sudden have girls screaming, wanting you — ‘cause I was a dorky [marching] band geek. And when that happened, then you think, OK, now, like a Penthouse Pet comes to his dressing room and has sex with him. The truth to all that stuff is it wasn’t what I thought it was; it wasn’t every schoolboy’s dream. I wanted to have a family. When those moments do come up, I show the other side of them.
Vanessa: Did it ever feel isolating, once you reached that fame?
John: No. But it wasn’t, “Oh, it’s so lonely at the top.” It was lonely because for a certain period of my life, I was not treating my body well, I was not being grateful for what I had. I was confusing the universe. My dad died, I got a divorce and then mom died. My parents were functioning alcoholics and it got me too. It was lonely, not because I was at the top, but because I was at the bottom, really, and I should have been better. Because you have to let people in. I love people. I love meeting people. I have the energy for it, I think. Although I’m getting hungry.
I set out to write a hero story — I’m going to write how great I am and all that great things [I’ve done] — but I was like, no, I have to write a human story. I started with the first chapter, where I got a DUI, and it was the worst day of my life. I got through that. Then, I remembered my mom’s notes — we put them all through the book. That’s when I started to figure out, OK, maybe I do have a book. Maybe I should just sort of follow her notes and see where that takes me. Next I wrote the last chapter, the day I discovered that Bob [Saget] died. The first chapter was, like, the stages of grief were drugs, alcohol and just diving deeper into depression. When Bob died, my stages of grief were therapy, my wife, health, my son. And so I was like, OK, now I’ve got to figure out how I got there. But I really didn’t think I had a story until I started writing it.
The food is ready.
John: We should charge.
Vanessa: I mean, if you get tired of the acting thing …
John: You and me. Johnny and Vanessa. Well, Vanessa and Johnny.
Vanessa: Johnny and Vanessa. It sounds better.
John: All right. Service! How is that? It might need more Greek seasoning. I’m just saying.
John Stamos, left, and Vanessa Franko with the finished fasolakia.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
