One day, to the surprise of his colleagues, he brought her by the office.
As she turned cartwheels in the corridor, she squealed, "Look at me!"
Avie Tevanian, a lanky and gregarious engineer at NeXT who had become Jobs's friend,
remembers that every now and then, when they were going out to dinner, they would stop by Chrisann's house to pick up Lisa.
"He was very sweet to her," Tevanian recalled. "He was a vegetarian, and so was Chrisann, but she wasn't.
He was fine with that. He suggested she order chicken, and she did."
Eating chicken became her little indulgence as she shuttled between two parents
who were vegetarians with a spiritual regard for natural foods.
"We bought our groceries—our puntarella, quinoa, celeriac, carob-covered nuts—in yeasty-smelling stores
where the women didn't dye their hair," she later wrote about her time with her mother.
"But we sometimes tasted foreign treats.
A few times we bought a hot, seasoned chicken from a gourmet shop with rows and rows of chickens turning on spits,
and ate it in the car from the foil-lined paper bag with our fingers."
Her father, whose dietary fixations came in fanatic waves, was more fastidious about what he ate.