Ever take a trip somewhere and get bummed out to come home to your usual humdrum routine? If there’s a word for that in some other language, it’s probably a German, twenty syllable, consonant-rich monstrosity. In my younger, wanderlustful days, I travelled constantly for work and usually missed that interesting some-other-place to return home to New York, as if the New York City suburbs were a sucky place to live. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Now that I’m older and shittier, I’m rather comfortable with my suburban Orange County life and better appreciate the joys of living here. In the first days after our vacation, I ate tacos at my favorite hole in the wall taqueria, Costa Mesa’s El Toro Bravo, and hit the weekend dim sum at Irvine’s China Garden. I felt like a junkie fresh out of rehab.

Our hunting expeditition to the Western slope of Colorado was terrific except no elks graced us with a viable target. I enjoyed the lakeside view from our rustic cabin on a snowy mountain at 10,000 feet of elevation. The little sprites went fishing, and we pan fried just-caught cold water rainbow trout with a parmesan and instant potato flakes crust, sauced with a lemon beurre noisette. The 4 wheel drive went out on the truck as the sun was setting, stranding us in the mud during a snow squall, when the windshield wipers decided to quit too (thanks alot, GMC).

Despite all that fun, there’s no place like home, and sleeping in my own bed with a warm cat dozing at my feet.

A week outside the usual routine gave me perspective on the foodways both at home and in Colorado. Stay tuned for a story on butchers that process wild game, and a small town where artisans turn renowned local fruit and corn into wines, vodkas, and brandies.