Twenty years ago I was hanging around a friend's kitchen as dinnertime approached. “Let me cook for you,” he offered. “I don't want to put you to any trouble,” I said. “No trouble at all,” he replied, and in one graceful movement he leaned back in his chair, lifted a tin of baked beans from the shelf above his head, emptied them into a saucepan and turned on the gas. That was dinner.
20年前的一天，我在一位友人家的廚房附近消磨時間，漸漸到了晚餐時分。他提出：“我給你做飯吧。”我說：“我可不想麻煩你。”他答道：“一點兒都不麻煩。” 說罷，他優(yōu)雅地靠向椅背，從頭頂上方的架子上拿了一罐焗豆，打開后倒進(jìn)長柄鍋，然后打開了煤氣。這就是我們的晚餐。
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