Though I'm a woman with children, I should confess that I'm not the target mom-reader for the latest avalanche of family cookbooks, which bear titles like "Dinner: A Love Story" or "The Family Cooks." This is my shortcoming: Where I ought to have a lively intellectual curiosity about food preparation, I generally have a despairing blank.
虽然我是个母亲,但我必须承认自己并非《晚餐:一个爱的故事》(Dinner: A Love Story)或《家庭厨师》(The Family Cooks)最近这一大堆家庭烹饪书的目标读者。这是我的缺点:我本该对烹制食物产生强烈的求知欲,但通常我只感到绝望的木然。
"Have you figured out dinner yet?" my daughter Susannah, who's 5, asks me. Figure out. Not "fix" dinner; not "make" it. She gets that phrase from me. A vague neural itch sets in around 5 p.m. when I recognize that something must happen, and soon, involving plates and macronutrients. I do not move. Dinner preparation is all mental around these parts: I figure out who's had enough protein or carbs for the day, who can bear eating the other's favorite food, or whether I must figure out two meals; figure out which is more endocrinologically devastating, highly processed soy milk or not-entirely-organic lactose-free cow's milk.
“你想好晚饭做什么了吗?”5岁的女儿苏珊娜(Susannah)问我。“想好”。不是去“弄”也不是去“做”晚饭。她是从我这儿学会这个说法的。下午5点左右,我隐隐感到不安,觉得需要赶紧做点什么,这事跟盘子和大量营养素有关,但我没有行动。这个阶段的准备工作都是在头脑中进行:我要想清楚今天谁摄入的蛋白质或碳水化合物已经足够了,谁能忍受吃另一个人最喜欢的食物,还是说我需要搞出两道菜;我还要想清楚,从内分泌角度讲,深加工的豆浆和不完全有机的无乳糖牛奶哪个危害更大。
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