小的时候我是在新泽西长大的,那时,我就喜欢和祖父母一起度周末。他们的老房子很大,温暖又舒适。我觉得在奶奶的小厨房里特别随意、放松。我们常在那里进行亲密的交谈。奶奶总是在她准备的每一个菜谱里加上点滴哲理。我特别清楚地记得,那是一个星期六的早晨,那时我大概是11岁,前一天我在那儿刚过的夜,吃完早点,我问奶奶:“你今天做什么汤?”我已闻到旧煤气炉上有蓝色斑点的搪瓷锅里炖的肉汤的香味。“蔬菜牛肉汤,”她回答道。“你可以帮我切点儿胡萝卜和芹菜。”奶奶在她那粗壮的腰上系了个围裙。我们从冰箱里取出了蔬菜:洋葱、胡萝卜、芹菜、土豆,还有菜 When I was a kid, I grew up in New Jersey. At that time, I liked to spend weekends with my grandparents. Their old house is large, warm and comfortable. I feel particularly relaxed and relaxed in Grandma’s kitchenette. We often conduct intimate conversations there. Grandma always adds a bit of philosophy to every recipe she prepares. I remember particularly clearly that it was a Saturday morning when I was about 11 years old. The night before I was there on the previous day, after breakfast, I asked Grandma: “What do you do today?” The scent of the broth broiled in the blue spotted enamel pot has been smelled on the old gas stove. “Vegetable beef soup,” she replied. “You can cut some carrots and celery for me.” Grandma tied an apron around her stout waist. We took out the vegetables from the refrigerator: onions, carrots, celery, potatoes, and vegetables