小貓伊藍

非常偶爾，我會跟住在墨爾本的 Betty 通通電郵；不久前，我收到她的回信。
打開，讀到「a very sad news to tell you」，我的心就揪緊——接著，就讀到我所敬愛的 Bill 過世了。

「Bill 過身了。」我輕輕的說。
當時我與丈夫帶著兒子正乘火車出門，我正悠閒地用手機查看電郵，沒有料想到會有如此沈重的消息。
因此，在擁擠的車廂中，我茫然抬頭告訴丈夫，丈夫茫然回望我，彼此都做不出什麼反應。

那個跟兒子玩耍的上午，難以專注；想到下午的工作，也不想面對。
內心有未能形狀的情感在湧動。

 
[這是 Bill 的家。我們短暫同住的地方。這曾經是我的「回家之路」。好熟悉。]
[Bill’s house. This was where we briefly lived under the same roof.
This was once “The road home”, which has always been familiar in my memory.]

我與 Bill 認識的那一年，他就已經是個70多歲的老人。
這麼多年來，你說我沒有預想過這一天嗎? 當然不是。
正正相反，我每一次寫電郵給 Betty，都小心翼翼地、委婉地問及兩人的健康狀況，生怕知道他們有什麼事。
而每一次、每一次——這13年來的每一次—— Betty 的回信中都有 Bill 幽默活潑輕鬆的身影。
在這一次寫信告訴他們我的好消息、在這一次我最沒有心理準備的時候，Bill 的逝訊卻來了。

延伸閱讀：
獻給 Bill——經典蘋果派 Classic Apple Pie   <---點擊進入~

  
[Bill 非常喜歡做派。也教會了當時不懂廚事的我做派。這是我暫住時他做的許多派之二，給我帶午餐。]
[Bill enjoyed making pies, and he taught me heaps back in the days when I didn’t have any idea how to cook.
These were 2 of the many pies he made during my stay. They were my packed lunches and snacksand sometimes dinners.]

我有好多心緒，沒法整理。
情感與理性自然而然地又開始在內心角力：
我覺得掛念他，但又覺得無論他什麼時候不在，我都會一樣掛念，沒有差別；
我覺得遺憾無法再見一面，但又跟自己說，我再見一次又怎樣? 我還是會可惜不能再再見一次；
我覺得可惜我沒法帶丈夫、帶小雨去見他了，又跟自己說，帶他們相見做什麼? 想念他的人是我。
也當然很世俗的安慰自己說，80歲多的老人，一生過得那麼美好，又向來健康沒受苦楚，要為他高興諸如此類。

可是我仍是傷痛。
下午，小雨終於睡下了；我打開電腦，一堆工作要處理。可是我跟自己說：先感受自己的感受吧。
我放下所有工作，走出露台，望著遠處。
我嘗試不去判斷自己的感受，但真是不容易。一開始的時候，腦袋還是同樣在辯駁。

我突然想起，剛才午餐時鬧情緒的小雨——他忽發奇想要吃草莓，但家中根本沒有草莓，他就哭鬧一大場。
我就驀地覺醒——我想要，而我沒有，我就傷心。就是這麼簡單。再沒有了。
我好想再見 Bill，我好想再擁抱他，我好想再跟他說話，但我永遠沒有這樣的機會了——
我終於哭泣起來。
接受自己就是自私的想念他，不為別人，不為什麼，就是因為自己很想，而永遠失去。
站在露台上，我對著天空，想著與 Bill 快樂跳舞的一幕、想著他開車帶我兜風的一幕，哭哭哭哭哭。


[那一年，Bill 為我佈置的房間。]
[This was the room Bill prepared for me 13 years ago.]

心裡的眼淚和壓抑流動起來，就沒有那麼重。
回到室內，我想，我要做一件事情——做一件讓我感到能夠紀念他的事情。
我苦思無果。

午後備餐時，我捏著盤中的絞肉，搓著肉丸子的時候，靈感就來了——我們來炸肉丸吧~!!!

記得當年住在 Bill 的家，我們一起吃的第一頓飯是 Bill 料理的。
眼看著他往鍋中倒入厚厚的油，然後油炸豬排和馬鈴薯給我晚餐，當年以為愈少油愈好的我真是驚嚇。
然後又看著他大量塗抹奶油、吃培根，什麼肉都炸來吃，就婆婆媽媽的嘮叨他。
然後就是他有名的哲言——我忍不住要再引用一次：
"What's the point? Fat or thin is not decided by how you eat! It's in your genes!
 My children's mom is big and fat. 
 My children give up butter, give up fatty meat, eat lots of veggies, and they are big and fat!
 Me? I eat fatty meat, drink full cream milk, and spread butter on my toasts for decades! See I am still thin!
 And, I am in my 70s now, it's not too far from death, what is the point of giving up delicious things?
 If I can't have them from now on, I would rather die now! Hahahaha!"
的確，他一輩子都修長纖瘦，從來都健健康康，最後走的原因，也跟這個脂肪量完全沒關係。
(也許他才是我現在高脂低醣生活的啟蒙者?!)

於是，從來從來沒有在家開炸鍋的我，決定這次的手工肉丸，以油炸的方式做。

 

結婚將近九年 (其實是平生30多年) 從來沒有開炸過，從前是因為崇尚低脂飲食，
後來是因為怕油煙又不知道剩下的炸油怎麼用，現在會吃油了，卻因為從未接觸炸的工藝，
自覺真心不懂這門藝術，不願意冒險，怕可惜了食材又弄壞了一頓餐點。

但是我素來知道，肉丸是炸的好吃——
北歐著名的肉丸子、義大利媽媽們的手工肉丸、荷蘭聞名的大肉丸、中東的素丸子，沒有一個不是炸的。
而我已經做過太多太多「面無血色」的蒸肉丸、灰灰白白的烤肉丸 (是的，烤焗也是沒有焦色的)，
以及無法保持圓形的煎肉丸 (貼著平底鍋的一面一定會扁掉，於是會煎出三角形/骰子形肉丸)。
所以——這一次，讓我來炸肉丸吧~~~!!!!

 

面對喪失之痛，真的需要一些時光與空間，單單感受內心的感受，容許哀傷沒有理由；
面對思念，也真的很需要做一件事情，去實在地懷緬、實在地念記。

那天傍晚，我專心一意地炸肉丸，試著安靜、集中、心無旁騖地專注於炸的過程。
一邊炸著，一邊看見當年 Bill 為我炸豬排。
慢慢翻動肉丸子，想念他的愛，也確知自己心中的愛。

 

手工肉丸．白酒香草番茄醬 Homemade Meatballs in White Wine Tomato Basil Sauce
食譜來源：小黑貓原創
*切勿直接轉載圖文及食譜~ 如需分享請註明出處~!

材料：(4人份)
肉丸部份——
豬絞肉......170克
牛絞肉......170克
洋蔥......1/4顆
牛奶......4湯匙
羅勒......1/2茶匙
俄勒岡......1/2茶匙
蒜粉......1/4茶匙
鹽......1/2茶匙
胡椒......1/4茶匙
油......足量   <---炸肉丸用，視鍋子大小，約1~1.5cm深即可。我用小鍋，約用5湯匙油~
醬汁部份——
奶油......1/2湯匙
洋蔥......1/3顆
蒜頭......1瓣
白酒......1/4杯
罐裝番茄......1罐 (400克)
茄膏......1/2湯匙
月桂葉......1片
羅勒......2茶匙
鹽......少許
胡椒......少許
帕馬臣起司碎......25克 (可省略)

*  豬牛參半的味道與口感最好。也可以按自己喜好調整比例，或全用牛肉/豬肉 (全牛肉口感會較乾柴)。
* 傳統肉丸子會加入麵包粉 (麵包糠)或馬鈴薯泥等，令肉丸變軟、多汁。這裡用「打水」(牛奶) 的方式。
* 罐裝番茄經過久煮，味道濃郁；且是盛產番茄的地區在當造時節入罐的，風味較新鮮番茄好。



做法：

肉丸部份——
洋蔥洗淨，去皮，切碎 (圖一)。
豬絞肉、牛絞肉、洋蔥碎放入盤中，加入羅勒、俄勒岡、蒜粉、鹽、胡椒，混合均勻。
逐湯匙加入牛奶，每次用力攪拌肉餡，待絞肉吸收所有水份後，再加入另一匙牛奶 (圖二)。
把肉餡放入冰箱，冷藏30分鐘。取出，搓圓成肉丸子 (圖三)，冷藏備用。
 
小黑貓嘮嘮叨叨：
逐少加入牛奶，每次攪拌至肉餡吸收水份，是「打水」的概念~ 可以令肉丸軟嫩多汁~
肉餡放入冰箱冷藏，會比較容易造型 (天氣冷就不必了)。冷藏過的肉丸比較堅挺，炸的時候較能保持形狀。



醬汁部份——
蒜頭洗淨，去皮，切末。洋蔥洗淨，去皮，切絲 (圖一)。
炒鍋中放入奶油，加熱融化 (圖二)，放入洋蔥絲，中小火拌炒約10分鐘至軟 (圖三)。
加入蒜末 (圖四)，繼續翻炒，至蒜頭香氣釋出 (圖五)。轉大火，倒入白酒 (圖六)。
翻炒至水份大致揮發 (圖七)，倒入罐裝番茄 (圖八)、加入茄膏 (圖九)、月桂葉、羅勒 (圖十)。
煮沸，轉小火，加蓋煮10分鐘 (圖十一)。以鹽、胡椒調味 (圖十二)。
 
小黑貓嘮嘮叨叨：
洋蔥逆紋切絲，會較快煮軟，也更能釋出甜味。
洋蔥絲煮軟的時間較久，蒜末則不用久煮，因此蒜頭後放，則不易炒焦。
我覺得這個醬汁的味道很豐富，因此沒有加入鹽和胡椒，大家先試試味道再調味~



小鍋中倒入油 (圖一)，中火加熱，至竹筷伸入時冒出泡泡 (約160度C) (圖二)。
按鍋子大小逐批放入肉丸 (圖三)，底部定形之後，不時輕輕翻轉肉丸，炸至表面微微金黃。
取出，放在廚房紙巾上瀝油 (圖四)。把火力稍微調高，至180度C。
把肉丸逐批重新放入油鍋 (圖五)，高溫短時間炸，至表面上色加深。取出，放在廚房紙巾上瀝油 (圖六)。
 
小黑貓嘮嘮叨叨：
兩次炸製，是令烤物酥脆而又不油膩的訣竅。
     首次以中溫炸，令食物變熟；二次以高溫炸，把食物內裡油脂逼出，並令表面酥脆。
一次放入太多肉丸，會瞬間降低油溫；鍋子太擠，也會令丸子變形。
     因此，要視乎鍋子大小，逐些放入肉丸，逐批炸起來，令它們均勻受熱。
這裡用的油量少 (只到肉丸的一半)，因此要等待肉丸底部定形，再翻肉丸；
     若用油充足 (油量蓋過肉丸)，則不用這個步驟。
肉丸會在醬汁中燉煮，因此不用憂慮是否炸至全熟，表面上色即可。



鍋中放入1.5杯醬汁，加入肉丸 (圖一)，拌勻 (圖二)，煮沸，轉小火，加蓋煮10分鐘至濃稠 (圖三)。
盛盤後，可以灑上帕馬臣起司碎佐吃 (圖四)。
 
小黑貓嘮嘮叨叨：
炸至表面酥脆的肉丸，能夠掛附更多醬汁；醬汁亦會有更深的肉香。
     這是烤肉丸或煮肉丸所不會出現的化學結合啊~!



第一次炸肉丸。真的，非．常．好．吃。
真的跟煎的、烤的、蒸的、煮的都不一樣。
很值得。

16顆肉丸，我與丈夫僅僅搶到自己的四顆，來吃飯的友人只吃到三顆，
因為小雨連吃五顆，仍然要求再吃 (餐點中已吃掉了煎鮭魚、煎鱈魚、南瓜、番茄、地瓜耶...)。

 

我的照相本中，有一張我與 Betty & Bill 的合照，小雨經常拿來看，也認得出「Uncle Bill」。
我告訴小雨，這兩個人很愛我，我也很想帶小雨去「羊咩咩之國」探望他們。

那一夜，我告訴小雨說：
「Uncle Bill 死了。不在了。即是說，他去睡覺覺，不過以後也不會起床。
    我們會以泥土做被子，蓋好他。然後，往後只會看見他的照片，不會見到他。」

第一堂生死教育課。
兩歲的小雨沒有生死的意識，似明非明，卻神情黯淡，雙眼下垂，大概是反照我的神情。
小雨望著照片，然後突然說：「Auntie Betty 哭了。」
我很感動。
摸摸他的頭，說：「是的，有人死了，我們會非常非常傷心。媽媽也哭了。」

 
[Betty 和 Bill 與我一起外出郊遊，我們在公園野餐。]
[Betty and Bill and I went on a picnic in a park.]

親愛的 Bill，你走了，我真的好傷心。
與你一起的片段，絲絲入心，歷歷在目，感動如初。
我真想念你。我也很愛你。
無以感謝。

 
[這個被白鳳頭鸚鵡圍繞的 Bill，是我心目中每次想起他的時候浮起的畫面。當時他帶我去看鳥。]
[This Bill who was surrounded by wild white cockatoos is the Bill I always remember. He was bringing me to bird-watching.]

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When I read “a very sad news to tell you” from Betty’s email, my heart tensed up – and soon I learnt that my beloved Bill had passed away as I read on.

“Bill has gone…” I whispered. I was on the train with my husband and baby boy, scrolling my phone and checking my mails, when this heavy news came in. I looked at my husband and told him, feeling unprepared and lost. And he looked back at me, both of us very blank and unable to respond.

I kept running through the day but didn’t feel present. Something was stirring inside that I could not describe.

When I knew Bill he was already in his seventies. Have I not thought about this day all these years? Very much the contrary. Every email I exchanged with Betty, I prayed that I would find the couple healthy and happy. And every time – every SINGLE time in this 13 years – I would hear about Bill’s liveliness from the replying mails. And this very time, when I was writing to share a good news of mine, unprepared for any sad news but their cheering for me, he was not there to be proud of me anymore.

There were a lot going inside me, so many thoughts and feelings I could not comb through. My emotions and reasons are in debate. I missed him. But I told myself that I would miss him anyway. I felt painful that I could not see him again. But I lectured myself that even if could, I would still feel painful and want to see him yet again. I felt pitiful that I had no more chance to take my husband and son to see Bill, which we had always planned. But I questioned myself about why they needed to meet, because after all I was the one in yearning. Of course there was the most typical saying too – that Bill was in his eighties and he had led a beautiful life and he hadn’t suffered much when he went, that we should be happy for him etc.

But still, I felt painful.

In the afternoon when my son finally napped and I could be on my own, I switched on the computer and got ready for a lot of work. But it didn’t feel right. I paused, reminding myself softly, “Feel your feelings first.”

I put my work aside and walked out to the balcony. I looked up at the sky. I tried not to judge my feelings but that wasn’t easy. Grieving is never easy.

And then a scene came to my mind – just now at lunch, my son threw a fit because he wanted strawberries out of the blue and there weren’t any berries in the fridge. He then cried so much over that. It was a sudden insight – We want something. We don’t get it. We are upset. That’s it. As simple as that. I wanted to see Bill again, wanted to hold him in my arms once again, wanted to talk to him and hear him giggle, and I would never have those moments, ever – I finally wept.

I accepted that I could miss him without any justifications. I missed him just because I felt so, selfish or not. Standing on the balcony, I looked at the clouds and recalled my days in Australia. I recalled the evening Bill and I danced, I recalled the car trips with Bill driving me here and there, I cried.

When the tears flew, the suppression released, and the burden lightened.

Getting back inside the house, I thought I need to do something. I wanted to do something – one thing that I could pour my love and memory in. one thing that I could do in remembrance of this person I loved.

Nothing popped up until I started preparing for dinner. I was shaping some meatballs when the inspiration came – let’s do deep-frying!

When I lived in Bill’s house many years ago, he prepared for our first dinner. I remember I was totally shocked when I saw Bill filling his pan with a great depth of oil, deep-frying everything from pork chop to potatoes for our meal (Back in the days, I believed low-fat was the key to health). Later when I saw him spreading butter on everything and eating bacons as snacks, I started nagging like an old woman. And then it was the classic Bill’s statement, which I couldn’t help but state it all over again:

"What's the point? Fat or thin is not decided by how you eat! It's in your genes!

My children's mom is big and fat. My children give up butter, give up fatty meat, eat lots of veggies, and they are big and fat! Me? I eat fatty meat, drink full cream milk, and spread butter on my toasts for decades! See I am still thin! And, I am in my 70s now, it's not too far from death, what is the point of giving up delicious things? If I can't have them from now on, I would rather die now! Hahahaha!"

Indeed, he had been lean all his life, energetic and healthy in his old age, and when he left the reason far unrelated with his diet. (Perhaps he was actually the first inspiration for my low carbohydrates and high fat lifestyle now?!)

Thus, as a cooking wife and mother who has never once deep-fried anything in her life, I decided I would for the first time try my hands on the arts of deep-frying. In face of loss, we need more time and space than we know to truly feel our feelings inside; In face of bereavement, we learn to allow ourselves to grief without reasons; in response to yearnings, we need something specific to put our hands on, so that our longings could be grounded and our remembrance actualized.

That evening, I deep-fried with peace inside. I tried to stay quiet and mindful, focusing only in the process of frying. I watched the meatballs sizzled in the pot, and I saw Bill frying the pork chops for me. Slowing and constantly I turned my meatballs, remembering his love for me, and knowing my love for him.

I have a photo album with a picture of Betty, Bill and I in it. My son loves that album and is able to name “Auntie Betty” and “Uncle Bill”. I always tell him that these two people loved me and helped me so much, and that I would bring him to Australia to see the couple. At dinnertime, I told my son that Uncle Bill had gone. “It means that he is no longer here. He goes to sleep, but would not get up again. We make a blanket for him with soil, cover him well, and we will only meet him again with photos.”

Our first lesson on life and death. The two-year-old boy seemed to have got the idea, lowering his eyes and looking sad. Or probably he was just reflecting his mother’s expression. Then he pointed at “Auntie Betty” in the photo, suddenly said, “Auntie Betty cries.” I was touched, “yes dear,” I patted his head, “when a person dies we are very very sad. Mommy cries too.”

Dear Bill, you have left, and I feel so very sad.

Every piece of memory we shared are deep-rooted in my heart and still vivid in my vision. And the touch was as fresh as new.

I miss you very much and I love you.

I cannot thank you enough.

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