Culinary rumbles about Don Juan’s restaurant in Edison Park began to build in the early 1990s. That was when owner Maria Josefa Concannon brought in a new chef: Patrick Concannon, her son. He’d bounced around at fine dining spots in Hawaii, France and California and spent time working at the now-closed Charlie Trotter’s before elevating the menu at his family’s unpretentious Mexican eatery. Creativity blossomed in his daily specials. Regulars knew to expect the unexpected. There was the roasted Chilean sea bass with wilted greens, six-hot-pepper-rubbed guinea fowl with sweet potato chipotle gratin and confit of duck leg with a chile pasilla apricot glaze. A Chicago Sun-Times dining review in 1995 gushed: “Don Juan’s is the type of restaurant people dream about finding. It’s an informal, fairly accessible place with a wunderkind chef whose specials compete with many high-priced, reservations-two-weeks-in-advance eateries.” The New York Times ran a story about the restaurant the following year. Mr. Concannon also worked at a Don Juan’s his family opened on Halsted Street, since closed, and went on to cook at the also now-closed Fahrenheit and for the Mia Francesca restaurant group before opening an Italian restaurant in 2008 in Orland Park, Osteria Ottimo, that’s still in operation. He later opened Mama Maria’s Taco and Tequila Bar next door. He also was among the chefs brought in to cook at the U.S. Open when the golf championship was held at the Olympia Fields Country Club in 2003. Mr. Concannon, who had equal parts Irish and Mexican heritage, died Jan. 19 from an aortic aneurysm, according to family and friends. He was 58. “He was always striving to do something different and better than the guy across the street,” fellow chef and business partner Laco Seeber said. Josefa Concannon said of her brother: “He was a kind of a difficult kid. Our mom had a really hard time with him because he did whatever he wanted.” Then, at 18, Mr. Concannon started working at restaurants including Charlie Trotter’s and the since-closed Le Cochonnet, near Wrigley Field. “It kind of gave him the bug for working in the industry, but he was partying a lot,” his sister said, noting that life in the hospitality industry can be a slippery slope to substance abuse and addiction. “Finally, a friend of his overdosed, and he asked our mom if he could just leave. And she bought him a one-way ticket to Hawaii. He needed the change of scenery. He had very little money in his pocket, but he had a skill, and he got a job at Mama’s Fish House in Maui and went from there to work at the Westin Hotel in Maui, and he had some really good mentors.” In Hawaii, he discovered a passion for surfing. His friend and fellow chef Brian O’Halloran said the two of them traveled to France and hauled their boards across the country to reach a destination surf spot. “At the end of trip, we sold our surfboards and finally had enough money to sit down at a French restaurant and eat some of the food our mouths had been watering over the whole trip,” O’Halloran said. A bit of surf life stayed with Mr. Concannon. He favored wearing Crocs and shorts under his chef’s coat. Mr. Concannon was born July 19, 1966, in Chicago and raised by his mother. He grew up in Park Ridge and attended Maine South High School, where he joined a heavy metal cover band and played hockey, a sport he got back into with fervor in 2013. “He was just always up for a good time,” said Stephanie Hansen, Mr. Concannon’s life partner of 25 years. “I have two daughters from a previous relationship, Lexi and Alyssa, and when they were young, Pat stepped in as their father. And one of them has a baby boy now named Charlie, so Patrick became an abuelo” — Spanish for grandfather — “and he could not have been happier about that. “I have a son-in-law who is a professional hockey player. His name is Connor Carrick, and he told Pat once to meet him at a golf course for a round. And former Blackhawks player Jonathan Toews joined them, and Pat thought he’d died and gone to heaven.” Mr. Concannon’s brother Jake Concannon said he got him into golf after years of resisting it as “not a real sport.” Mr. Concannon played hockey twice a week at 6 a.m. at the Arctic Ice Arena in Orland Park. Around Christmas every year, he’d bring food he’d prepared at home and feed his teammates in the lobby of the rink after an early-morning skate. “He’d have this huge spread for us of gourmet Mexican food, it was just amazing,” said fellow skater Pat Diorio. “He truly cared about people.” Services have been held.