Mastering the Art of the New York Eat—and—Walk 紐約范兒之邊走邊吃

It started with a hot dog and a pair of rollerb lades. At thirteen years old my version of being a reckless ado lescent invo lved skidding down Broad way on a Saturday afternoon with my best friend， dodging pedestrians while munching on a Gray's Papaya hot dog.

The ro llerb lades have long since been abandoned-as has my taste for Gray's Papaya. a bng with other my stery meats-but what rem ains is my bve of eating and waking at the same time.

thave alW ays felt that waking while eating is one of the highest forms of respect you can pay to a food and to a city， and to my city in particular. Tuck into that tulo of chicken wings with hot sauce， bite in to that im possib ly juicy burger. devour that fully-baded pizza as you wak down the street like it's your last meal-nobody cares. Some callthis bad manne rs. I calI this freedom .

When I was nine years oldr my mother towed me around Paris for two weeks on a budget that left room for Rodin sculoture viewing. a fair am ount of onion soup eating and not much else. Both my mother and l wanted come lunchtime was a sandw ich to go. The French were not very olo liging. Lunch was to be eaten at a tabla over the course of an hour or so with fixed attention and proper cutlery. A decade later I retumed as a college student for a year， mostly though. l stom ped around the great cities of Europe， specia lizing in getting bst. would start in the moming and wak all day， stum bling across a fam ous church here， an in press ive monum ent there and untang ling how one neighbo rhood flowed into the next. But getting food to go was a chalbnge. curryw urst in V ienna. ge lato in Flo rence， kebabs in London-the options were lim ited and I was only vaguely aw are of how gaucheit was to wak down the street while snacking on oily chunks of meat. If you had to eat outside you were to sit yourse lf down on the steps of some great cathedra land nosh aw ay.

The Gallic reverence for food is a bit shattering to the effic iency-minded. Put simply： “Food is good. Eatng is not a matter of ingesting calories.” Despite modem inflUences on culinary traditions. there rem a ins a sense of celebration at French meals. “we don't like to eat and run，” says Gayot. “work is one thing. and eatng is another. It is a mom ent of refbction and socia rizing， and a mom ent of pleasure. like reading a good book or listening to music you like. Even with a busy life， people want to keep this trad dtion.”

Gastronom icaI reverence aside， anim a listic habits are making some inroads in Paris. On my most recent vis it earlier this year，

I discovered that Parisians had discovered the bagel. l did not attem pt to try one， mostly out of deference to the French.

For most New Yorkers. eat- waking is an irresistib le trifecta of effic iency： nourishm ent， exercise and transportation. But for me， it has an opposite appea l. I beg in to notice thngs when lsbw my gart so as not to choke on a steam ing samosa. Sheathed in the act of eating， the city both washes over me and flows through me. With the privilege of distance， scents become sharper. overheard conversations som ehow become more profound， people's outfits more interestng， the shiny new glass mono lith more elegant and the stew of pedestrians more harm onious. As is the New York way， no one notices the trailof peas and potatoes in my wake. The streets of New York have alW ays been bastions of eccentric indulgences. l weave through a thin crowd wearing a curried sm ile. l am home.

事情得從一個熱狗和一雙輪滑鞋講起。13歲時，我還是個冒冒失失的小丫頭，經常在周六下午跟我最要好的朋友一起沿著百老匯大街一路滑行，一邊躲閃著路上的行人，一邊大嚼著從格雷木瓜店里買來的熱狗。

如今那雙輪滑鞋早就被扔了一對格雷木瓜店里的熱狗和其他搞不清成分的肉類食品我也早沒了興趣一但我對邊走邊吃依然熱情不減。

我一向認為邊走邊吃是向食物和城市表達敬意的最高形式之一，對我所在的城市來說尤其如此。你走在街上，拿著一桶蘸了辣醬的雞翅大快朵頤，或是咬一口味美多汁得不可思議的漢堡，或是舉著塊餡料豐富的比薩狼吞虎咽，仿佛這是你的最后一餐一沒有人會在乎。有人管這叫沒規矩，我管這叫自由。

在我九歲時，媽媽拉著我在巴黎轉了兩個星期。我們的預算有限，除了參觀羅丹的雕塑作品和喝好多頓洋蔥湯的錢之外所剩無幾。到了午飯時間，我和媽媽只想買個三明治在路上吃。法國人在這方面卻不怎么與人方便。吃頓午飯得在餐桌邊坐上一個來鐘頭，專心致志地吃，還得恰當地使用餐具。十年后，我以大學生的身份重返巴黎留學一年。大多數時間我都是在歐洲各大城市暴走，迷路成了我的“專長”。我會從早上出發，走上一整天，一會兒在這兒發現一座著名教堂，一會兒在那兒看見一座雄偉的紀念碑，一路上研究著一個街區如何與下一個街區會合。買外賣食物卻是一項挑戰。維也納的咖喱香腸、佛羅倫薩的冰淇淋、倫敦的烤肉串一可供選擇的種類有限，而我也只是隱約感到一邊吃著油汪汪的大肉塊一邊走在街上是多么不雅。如果你不得不在外邊吃東西，你得找個大教堂的臺階坐下，再開吃。

在效率至上的人看來，法國人對食物的敬畏有些令人詫異。簡而言之：“食物是好東西。吃東西不是為了攝取卡路里。”盡管烹飪傳統受到現代社會的影響，但法國人在就餐時依然保持著一種儀式感。“我們不喜歡邊吃邊走，”加約（美食評論家）說，“工作是一碼事，吃飯是另一碼事。吃飯是進行思考和與別人交流的時刻，是享受快樂的時刻，就像讀一本好書或是聽自己喜歡的音樂一樣。即使生活忙碌，人們也想保持這個傳統。”

撇開對美食的尊重不談，動物那般的飲食習慣開始侵蝕巴黎。今年早些時候，我最近一次造訪巴黎時，發現巴黎人已開始吃貝果了。我沒嘗試去買，這主要是為了表示對法國人的尊重。

對于大多數紐約人而言，邊走邊吃從效率上看一舉三得，令人無法抗拒：補充了營養，鍛煉了身體，滿足了交通需求。但對我而言，它的吸引力剛好與之相反。在我放慢腳步以免被熱氣騰騰的油炸三角餃噎著時，我開始留意周邊的事物。這座被吃的行為所包圍的城市既讓我無動于衷，又讓我深受觸動。有了距離這個優勢，氣味變得更加強烈，無意中聽到的對話也不知不覺變得更加深刻，人們的穿著顯得更有意思，嶄新閃亮的玻璃幕墻顯得更加優雅，街上擁擠的人流也變得更加和諧。正如紐約一貫的做派，沒人注意到我身后撒落的豌豆和土豆屑。紐約的街道向來是容納古怪嗜好的堡壘。我面帶微笑，嘴里散發著咖喱的氣息，穿行在稀落的人群中。我到家了。