炖了一下午的汤

类别：独处

独居周末慢火熬炖一锅热汤，弥漫的香气唤醒童年记忆，抚慰孤独的灵魂。

时长 55 秒 · 语速 153 wpm

字幕原文

On Sunday, I started the soup at one o'clock. 周日下午一点，我开始煲汤。

Bones, ginger, a few red dates, water. 骨头、姜片、几颗红枣，还有水。

I put the clay pot on the smallest flame and left it. 我把砂锅搁在最小的火上，就没再管它。

That's all you do. 做法就这么简单。

The lid begins to tremble, very softly, 锅盖开始轻轻地晃动，

with a small tapping sound, and it keeps tapping all afternoon. 发出细微的嗒嗒声，一下午都没停过。

By two, I could smell it in the kitchen. 到了两点，厨房里就飘出了香味。

By three, in the hallway. 三点的时候，走廊里也能闻到了。

By four, it had climbed the stairs 四点，香味顺着楼梯飘了上来，

and found me at my desk. 一直钻到我的书桌前。

It's a smell I know from before I could talk. 这味道我打小就熟悉，比我记事还要早。

My grandmother's apartment smelled like this. 我姥姥家以前就是这个味儿。

I live alone now. 现在我一个人住。

Nobody was coming for dinner. 晚上也没有人要来吃饭。

But the whole apartment felt different. 但整个屋子的感觉却不一样了。

As if someone had been here all day, 就好像有人在这儿呆了一整天，

in the kitchen, getting things ready for me. 在厨房里为我张罗着吃的一样。

And someone had. 其实也确实有这么个人。

A slow soup makes a house 慢火煲出的一锅汤，

smell like somebody is waiting for you. 会让屋子里满是有人在等你的味道。