Mama'sCorn Bread & Beans
妈妈的玉米面包和豆子
My Mother was notnostalgic about many things in life, but when it came to corn bread and beans,she was a sentimental fool. She and my father had been teenagers during theGreat Depression, and the memory of those hard times was still raw when theymarried, in 1942.“Many a day, corn breadand beans was all we had to eat,” one of them was likely to say.
我的母亲并不是特别怀旧的人，但一提到玉米面包与豆子，她就变成了一个多愁善感的傻瓜。在经济大萧条时期，她和我的父亲还都是青少年，但直到他们在1942年结婚时，对那段艰难岁月的记忆依旧难以抹去。他们中的一位总是会提起，“在很长一段时间里，玉米面包和豆子是我们唯一可以用来果腹的食物。”
Mother made sure her three well-fed childrenhad an inkling of what the previous generation had endured. At least a coupleof times a year, a big pot of pinto beans seasoned with salt pork would appearon the stove, slowly simmering down to almost mush, along with a pan of yellowcorn bread, fragrant and steaming. We would gather around our 1950s-era Formica dinette table and fill our cereal bowlsand plates. I'm afraid that my twoyounger brothers and I rolled our eyes, although never so that Mother or Daddycould see us. Still, something must have sunk in because I often find myselfcalling up remembrances of meals past as a way of understanding, if only alittle, where I came from. Food is about many things—nourishment, pleasure, and culture among them—but it's also about recognizing who you are, and why.
母亲确保她三个营养充足的孩子仍对上一辈所经历的困难岁月有所了解。至少一年中有两三次，炉子里会有一大锅用腌猪肉作料的斑豆慢慢炖烂，伴着一锅黄玉米面包，香气腾腾。我们围聚在50年代的那种胶木面餐桌旁边装满自己的碗和盘子。虽然父亲和母亲不会注意，我和我的两个弟弟还是会不以为然地转转眼珠子 。依旧有一些东西积淀了下来，因为我总是不由自主地回忆起这种纪念过去膳食的仪式，把它当成是一种，哪怕只有一点点，理解我从哪里来的方式 。食物包含了很多东西——营养，快乐和文化——它更反映了你是谁，和为什么你是这样的人。
Some of my most vividmemories start in Cameron, the small Central Texas town where my father grewup. At the family's house, corn breadand beans may have gotten them through difficult times, but Sunday dinner wasthe ritual that knit them together year in and year out. After church, mygrandmother would head to the henhouse with a sharp ax in one hand and a bentcoat hanger in the other. In a minute, she would have hooked a nice youngfrying hen. One whack of the ax on a tree stump and that hen was history,although its headless body continued to run and flop wildly around the yard forwhat seemed like forever.
卡梅伦镇带给了我最鲜活的回忆，这个德州中部的小镇是我父亲长大的地方。在家里，可能是玉米饼和豆子帮助他们度过了艰难的时期，但是周日的晚餐才是年复一年联结起一家人的仪式。在从教堂回来之后，我的祖母会一手拿着锋利的斧头，一手拿着弯曲的衣架走向鸡舍。不一会儿，她就抓住了一只品种优良的飞扑着的年轻母鸡了。树桩上一斧头下去，母鸡那无头的身体还在院子里扑腾乱窜，但命已归西。
The family would gatheraround the big oak table in the dining room and survey the bounty: a platter ofchicken, of course, plus bowls of black-eyed peas, green beans cooked with apinch of sugar and at least a ton of bacon grease, a relish tray of sweetpickles, and a basket of rolls kept warm under a napkin.
全家人也会围聚在餐厅的大橡木餐桌边，打量着战利品：一大盘鸡，当然，也少不了几碗豇豆、用少量糖和至少一吨的培根油调味的绿豆、 一盘可口的酸甜泡菜，还有铺着餐巾保温的一篮子面包卷。
If my father had beenforced to live the way he grew up and eat the food of his childhood for therest of his life, he would not have considered it a hardship. He was asmall-town boy and proud of it. The immutability of Sunday dinner and thesimplicity of our own family ritual of corn bread and beans only reinforcedthis.
如果我的父亲不得不按照他年幼时的模式过日子，吃着他儿时吃惯的食物来度过余生, 他也一定不会觉得这是一件艰苦的事情。他曾是一个小镇男孩，并且也为此而骄傲。不可改变的周末晚餐和我们简单的玉米面包和豆子组成的家庭仪式只是强调了这一点。
Mother was cut fromdifferent cloth. She, too, was fromsmall-town Texas—in fact, from asuccession of small towns that concluded with Mercedes, in the Rio GrandeValley. Like my father, she and her siblings had grown up eating homey Southernand Texan dishes—hamburger steaks, potroasts, enchiladas, and produce from the valley's huge farms and citrus orchards. Just as inCameron, Sunday dinner in Mercedes meant fried chicken, though her mother wouldwring the bird's neck instead ofchopping its head off.
母亲和父亲有许多不同之处。她也来自于德克萨斯的一个小镇——实际上是来自于里奥格兰德河谷中一系列统称为梅赛德斯的小镇 。像我的父亲一样，她和她的兄弟姐妹是吃着朴实的南方风味和德克萨斯州的特色食物长大的。有汉堡牛排，炖肉，墨西哥肉馅玉米卷和一些来河谷里的大农场和柑橘园的食物。就像在卡梅伦镇，梅塞德斯的周日晚餐是炸鸡，尽管她的母亲会拧断鸡的脖子而不是砍断。
But corn bread and beans and those otherdown-home dishes were only part of who she was—and in her mind, not the most important part. Sheleft Mercedes, went to the University of Texas in Austin, and married myfather. From the time I can first remember her, when I was about four, sheseemed a glamorous creature, her dark hair swept up in a mass of curls, brownsuede platform heels on her size-five-and-a-half feet. She read nonstop, savingrecipes from fancy magazines for dishes like veal à la casino, crème brûlée, and vichyssoise. But everyday meals consisted of Middle Americanstaples like chicken salad and a hamburger-and-tomato concoction she christenedBoy Scout Hash.
但是玉米面包和豆子还有其他一些乡下菜只是她生活的一部分——而且在她眼里，不是最重要的那部分。她离开梅德赛斯，去奥斯汀上德克萨斯大学，然后嫁给了我的父亲。从最初对她有记忆的四岁起，我印象中的她一直是一个魅力无穷的女人，她把黑发打理成一头卷发，褐色的软羔皮厚底高跟鞋穿在她五尺半的脚上。她一直在阅读，会为了做出像小牛排，法式焦糖布丁，维希奶油浓汤[1]这样的菜肴 收集高档杂志上的食谱。但平时一日三餐还是由 美国中产阶级的主食组成，如鸡肉沙拉，和被她命名为“童子军哈什”的一种混合了汉堡与西红柿的菜肴。
It's easy to see Mother's kitchen—and her life—as a battleground where corn bread and beans viedfor supremacy with crown pork roast and its ilk. I see that same battle, infact, reproduced in my own life every year during the holidays. At first Iblithely think, Well, we'll have turkey and dressing this year because,after all, it is our beloved family custom. But then I get antsy. I drag six orseven cookbooks off the shelves. I convince myself I must try something new anddifferent.
很容易就能发现母亲的厨房——还有她的一生——就像战场一样。在那里玉米面包和豆子与皇冠烤猪肉和它的盟军一决高下。事实上，我在每年的假期中也能发现同样的战斗发生在我自己的生活里。一开始我漫不经心地想，嗯，我们今年吃火鸡和沙拉，因为， 归根结底，它是我们深受喜爱的家庭传统。但是后来我坐立不安起来。我把六、七本烹饪书从书架上翻出来。我说服自己去尝试一些不同的新东西。
Just the other day,looking for ideas, I pulled out one of Mother's old cookbooks. It was the Better Homes &Gardens CookBook,1946 edition, her indispensable recipe resource, with dozensof clippings and index cards tucked inside. It had sat on the counter next to thetoaster for nearly five decades.
就在那些日子里，我为了找一些点子翻出了母亲的旧食谱。它是1946年出版的佳家花园食谱，这是她烹饪不可或缺的食谱来源。书里插着许多剪报和索引卡。近五十年来它一直呆在面包机旁边的台面上。
Cracking the book open, Isuddenly realized what I wanted to make: corn bread and pinto beans. It was acold, wet night, and I had some cornmeal in the pantry. I turned thenow-fragile pages, trying not to tear them.
打开书，我突然意识到我想做什么：玉米面包和斑豆。那是一个又冷又潮湿的夜晚，而我在储藏室里还有一些玉米面。我翻开那些现在变脆了的封面，尽量不撕破它们。
But, search as I might, Icouldn't find the recipes Isought. I must have hunted for a good ten minutes, but nothing: not underBreads, not under Vegetables, not under Beans. And then it dawned on me: Therewere no recipes because Mother didn't need them. Veal à la casino[2]—thatshe needed a recipe for. Corn bread andbeans she knew by heart.
但是，我找了好久也找不到我想找的食谱。我可能找了快十分钟了，但什么也没找到：不在面包类，不在蔬菜类，不在豆类。就在这时我突然明白了：这里没有玉米面包和豆子的食谱，因为母亲不需要它。煎烤小牛排是她需要按菜谱来做的，但是玉米面包和豆的食谱一直在她的心里。
[1]原文为法语
[2]原文为法语
终校：攸宁
树屋字幕组-文翻组
翻译仅供学习交流 严禁用于商业用途
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发表于 2016-7-31 22:04:17
发表于 2018-7-16 14:54:21
