照着妈妈的方子

类别：成长

作者复刻母亲的红烧茄子，领悟到有些滋味无法量化，唯有成长方能体会。

时长 58 秒 · 语速 141 wpm

字幕原文

I called my mother and asked how to make her braised eggplant. 我给妈妈打电话，问她红烧茄子怎么做。

"Easy," she said. “简单，”她说。

"Cut the eggplant. “把茄子切块。

Fry it. 过油炸一下。

Add garlic, soy sauce, a little sugar, a little salt." 放蒜、生抽，少许糖，少许盐。”

"How much is a little?" “少许是多少？”

"A little. “就少许呗。

Until it tastes right." 尝着味道对了就行。”

"Mom. “妈。

How many spoons?" 到底是几勺啊？”

She laughed. 她笑了。

"I don't know. “我哪知道。

I've never used a spoon. 我做饭从来不用勺量。

You'll see." 你做着看就明白了。”

My first try was too salty. 我第一次做太咸了。

I couldn't finish it. 根本咽不下去。

For the third, I stopped measuring. 到了第三次，我干脆不去称量了。

I stood over the pan, and I tasted, 我守在锅边，一边尝，

and I thought about her kitchen. 一边回想她厨房里的样子。

And suddenly, there it was. 突然间，就是那个味儿了。

Her eggplant. 她做的茄子的味道。

Exactly. 一模一样。

I was seven years old, at the round table, 我仿佛回到了七岁那年，坐在那张圆桌旁，

with my feet not touching the floor. 两只脚还悬在半空，够不着地。

I called her back. 我又打给她。

"I got it." “我做出来了。”

"I told you," she said. “我就说吧，”她说。

"You'll see." “你做着看就明白了。”

Some recipes can't be written down. 有些食谱是写不出来的。

You have to grow into them. 得等你慢慢长大，才能真正领会。