I don’t know about you, but I’m particularly prone to the post-travel blues. Once in a while it’s good to come home to your own bed, but more often than not it’s just a letdown.
One morning you’re sipping Mexican hot chocolate on a cafe patio in your vacation location of choice, skimming the Times without really letting that real-world doom and gloom sink in; the next you’re scarfing your usual oatmeal in your rush out the door, and wishing you’d checked the traffic report.
At least we have our taste memories to sustain us until the next trip. This is my latest: Cioppino at Brockton Villa Restaurant in La Jolla, California. It had been a blustery day, with winds and sideways rain that had thrust our umbrellas into uselessness. We sat at a window-side table with beach views, and although the plastic screens were in place, they were hardly secure. It was, in a word, cold. But between sopping saffron broth with crusty bread and the space heater aimed strategically at my feet, it was a beautiful meal.
These scrupulous notes are headed for my seafood file. I won’t be able to replicate the feel of the cold ocean breeze in my kitchen, but it’s still comforting to know I can conjure a similar cioppino of my own.
the zest 