You know how when you travel somewhere you are constantly sizing up the people, trying to figure out if you could live there? Or at the very least, if you were suddenly struck with a burst appendix, would the locals rush to your side and comfort you or step over you and continue on down the sidewalk?

After 15.5 hours in a car eating nothing but soy crackers and grapes, you can imagine how excited I was to find out Boise is the farm-to-table mecca in the Pacific Northwest. Really sad I didn’t pack elastic waistband pants.