Page 16 - Boca Club News - August '24

Page 16, Boca Club News
Second Helpings: A Favorite Recipe from the

Past Pages Of Boca Club News…Shaved Brussels

Sprout Salad with Cheddar, Hazelnuts and Apple

Brussels Sprouts? A salad? If that’s the reaction you get Salt and pepper
from family or guests when you tell them what’s on the 6 Tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
menu, just smile...because the next thing you see and hear 2 pounds Brussels sprouts, trimmed, halved and sliced
will be smiles, wide-open eyes and “Delicious!” They will very thin
never know that, once you have the ingredients, it’s a cinch 3 ozs. shredded sharp cheddar
to prepare—and just right for these summer days and nights. ½ cup toasted and crushed hazelnuts, skinned
Serves 4 1 Granny Smith apple, cored and cut into ½ inch pieces
Ingredients: Directions:
3 Tablespoons lemon juice Whisk lemon juice, mustard, shallot, garlic and ½
2 Tablespoons Dijon mustard teaspoon salt together in a large bowl. Slowly whisk in oil
1 shallot, minced until incorporated. Toss Brussels Sprouts with vinaigrette
1 garlic clove, minced and let sit at least 30 minutes.
Fold in cheddar, hazelnuts and apple. Season with salt

Essays on Life: and pepper to taste. Serve.

Poverty Our 38

th
Ann
ual
By Sonia E. Ravech. Sonia is a Annual
native of Massachusetts and a
resident of Broken Sound for more
Summer Sale
than 30 years. She is the mother
of four, grandmother of seven and
great grandmother of four. She has Summer Sale
been the facilitator of the Broken
Sound Memoir Writers’ Workshop
for the past seven years.
Mama always told me we weren’t poor. We just didn’t
have much money. Daddy worked seven days a week as a
taxi driver, but as a compulsive gambler had little to show
for his efforts. Mama struggled to make do.
At age ten I began to baby-sit for neighbors’ children. I
often cooked supper, gave the kids a bath, read them stories
and put them to bed for a salary of twenty-five cents, which
I gave to Mama when I returned home.
Poverty shrouded my world as a child, but I cannot say
I was unhappy. There was no television or social media to
expose us to the competitive world of the rich and famous.
Most of our neighbors lived as we did, and everyone shared
what little they had. The local grocer offered credit. Peanut
butter and macaroni were staples of our diet.
My neighborhood consisted of crowded multiple-family
houses abutting Blue Hill Avenue, a busy, main thoroughfare
with a trolley running down the center. The street was
bustling with numerous merchants selling necessities
out of their small shops. Few of our neighbors owned an
automobile, a business or their residence. They were hard-
working individuals struggling to earn a living to support
their families.
On Saturday afternoons we were allowed to go to the
movies. We took lunch in a paper sack and for a dime we
when playing. The girls skipped rope with a cast-off piece

could spend the entire day watching cartoons, a newsreel
and a double feature. This was a less expensive alternative
to a babysitter.
Lenses on 1 Pair
st

We didn’t have many toys but used our imagination
of clothesline. We played hopscotch on a numbered grid

scratched onto the sidewalk with a stone. The boys played
nd
stickball using a broom handle and a rock rolled into an old Lenses on 2 Pair

pair of socks.
The streets were our playground, the synagogue our *Except Cartier & Maui Jim
community center, the fire hydrant our relief from hot
summer days. Occasionally, a neighbor who owned a pick- Rx or Non-Rx Lenses on 3 or More
rd
up truck piled several families into the back and drove us to
Wollaston Beach. Sometimes, when the heat was unbearable Expires 08/21/24 Expires 08/21/24
in our apartments, we slept on the beach overnight. We
returned home sandy, sunburned and tired, but those days KNOWN FOR OUR SELECTION • REMEMBERED FOR OUR SERVICE
were special and remembered with fondness.
I married my neighborhood sweetheart at eighteen.
Having grown up in similar circumstances we shared many
of the same values. Both of us were determined to provide
our children with a better life. My husband, like my Dad, Never
worked sixty to seventy hours a week. Unlike my Dad he Boring
saved his money towards that goal.
After numerous sacrifices we were able to buy a home,
a car and the newest toys. We were able to provide our
children with the best educational opportunities. We became
the typical American success story, rising from poverty to
affluence.
However, as I have aged and look back at my childhood,
I have a better appreciation of what Mama meant when she
said we weren’t poor. We had parents who loved us, siblings
to play with, neighbors and friends who cared, a bed in which
to sleep, and a home to protect us from the elements. THE SHOPS AT BOCA CENTER ON MILITARY TRAIL | 561-394-5551 | GROVEOPTICIANS.COM
We shared a bond that didn’t require wealth. We indeed
were not poor; we just didn’t have much money.