John Scunziano, Assistant Director of Dietary Services
John Scunziano spent the first two decades of his career cooking for celebrities and high-end restaurants. Now that he’s cooking in health care, he says the work feels more meaningful.
“You’re going to have these residents three times a day, every day, no matter what,” he said. “They’re your biggest critics. You take what they say seriously. You look out for them like you’re cooking for your parents or your grandparents.”
Since joining the Homeland dietary department in early 2024, Scunziano has brought his knowledge of fresh foods and natural flavors to the kitchen – and a willingness to learn from the wisdom of residents and staff.
Scunziano, who grew up in Long Island with five older sisters, said he often cooked with his mother and grandmother, making sauce, meatballs, and pasta from scratch. His mother taught him to make cheesecake – which he has since honed to resident-favorite variations, including caramel shortbread, Oreo fudge, and pumpkin spice.
What’s the secret to a good cheesecake?
“Patience,” he said. “You’ve got to let it cook. Stop touching it. Stop checking on it. Use good cream cheese. Honestly, Philadelphia is the best. Your food is only as good as the ingredients.”
After graduating from culinary school, the next 25 years took him to hotels and restaurants all over Long Island and the Hamptons.
Doing every job that kitchens demanded, he found that cooking “ends up being the easy part.”
“You meet so many different personalities and people along the way,” he said. “I like figuring out how people work and how to work with them rather than trying to force them into a different way of working. There’s something to learn from everyone.”
There were 120-hour workweeks along the way, but he promised himself that he would shift gears if he ever married. That happened in 2000 when he married one of his sister’s friends. When their now 5-year-old daughter was born, he and his wife decided to leave New York and follow her parents to Ephrata.
In central Pennsylvania, Scunziano switched to working dietary and catering in large retirement settings.
“Working in health care, you’re more of a necessity,” he said. “You’re appreciated more because you’re not cooking for people with extra money to go out. They count on you for their lives.”
Moving to the Harrisburg area, he said Homeland offered the position – and environment – he wanted.
“There are people who’ve worked here for 20 or 25 years, so they must be doing something right to keep people here that long,” he said.
During his first weeks at Homeland, he listened to the residents and dietary team. Now, based on his experience, he is gradually introducing new menu items and processes.
Fresh foods and natural flavors are coming into play, such as honey for sweetening instead of sugar. There are fresh crab cakes and braised meats. Scalloped potatoes are made from scratch. The annual summer picnic featured fresh sweet corn.
“When you’re surrounded by farmland, if you’re not using fresh vegetables, it’s kind of a slap in the face,” he said.
Resident requests guide menu decisions.
“At this point in their lives, food is very much a comfort,” Scunziano said, adding he appreciates feedback. “It’s more than sustenance. It’s a social activity. It’s something they can look forward to. They like to know somebody’s listening to them.”
Scunziano can always tell when residents enjoy the day’s menu selection because requests decline for a grilled cheese or hamburger from the backup menu. At Homeland, it’s about committing to quality food that supports quality of life.
“When the food’s good and they’re anticipating it, residents are more excited about coming in for their meals,” he said. “Everyone here genuinely cares about the residents and their health, happiness, and well-being.”

As a young woman, Tamara Jaroszewski of Harrisburg experienced the profound impact of hospice services when her sister died of breast cancer at age 40. For Tamara, hospice work became a beacon of hope and inspiration. She felt called to help patients during their end-of-life journey. Her call was recently answered when she joined Homeland’s Hospice team as the volunteer coordinator. Homeland Hospice, a nonprofit hospice program, serves communities throughout Central Pennsylvania.
Nicole Simmons was hanging her artwork in Homeland’s sunny Florida Room Gallery when a resident came by.
Art Wiand grew up in a family-oriented atmosphere, which is why he felt at home the first time he set foot in Homeland.
Two cards sat on the green felt in front of Geoffrey Davenport, a seven and a nine. The next card could put him over 21, for a losing hand, but he took a chance. Geoffrey declined another card when the blackjack dealer put down a three, bringing his hand to 19.
At the blackjack table, Geoffrey Davenport said that he’s not a gambler. However, he once played blackjack in Arizona winning dinner for his buddies. He loves the events that the Board of Managers and the Homeland Activities Department stage for the residents.
As they left, residents chose their prizes from a table stocked by the Board of Managers with various useful and delightful items. There were Junior Mints and body lotions, Easter baskets filled with felted Easter eggs, puzzle books, and journals. Resident Carl Barna picked out small plush rabbits to give to other residents and staff, knowing they would appreciate the cute toys.
“You, my brown eyed girl.” The lyrics of “Brown Eyed Girl,” Van Morrison’s nostalgic and catchy song from 1967, is familiar to many and a portal to another time for others. For anyone growing up in the 1960s, this song and others from this era evoke memories of times with friends and the feeling of freedom that comes with youth.
