Page 46 - The Rockaway Times

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Page 46
The Rockaway Times
Coffee-Braised Pot Roast
By Sharon Feldman
: time: 25 minutes Cook:
2 hours 40 minutes
: 8
3 to 3 ½ pounds
beef chuck pot roast
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon pepper
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 large onion, halved and sliced
1 green sweet pepper, cut into 2”
3 cloves garlic, minced
¾ cup beef broth
1 8-ounce cancrushedpineapple
1 tablespoon instant espresso
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
2 pounds sweet potatoes,
peeled and cut into 2” pieces
Crushed red pepper
Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Trim fat from beef. Rub with salt
and pepper. In a 6-quart Dutch
oven, brown beef on all sides in
hot oil over medium-high heat.
Transfer to a plate.
Add onion, green sweet pep-
per, and garlic to pot. Cook and
stir for 4-5 minutes or until ten-
der and starting to brown. Re-
turn beef to Dutch oven. Add
powder, crushed red pepper,
and allspice. Bring to a boil.
Cover and roast 1-3/4 hours.
Add sweet potatoes. Return
cover and continue roasting
one more hour or until meat
and vegetables are tender.
Transfer beef and vegeta-
bles to a platter; cover to keep
warm. Bring liquid in pot to a
boil. Reduce heat and simmer
uncovered 10-15 minutes or
until slightly thickened. Serve
sauce with beef and vegetables.
Sprinkle additional crushed
My Dad
By Sean Hanley
Outside my small grey house
in Breezy Point, New York, on
a cool spring day, I needed
a way to get around. I was a
three-year old, blond-headed
kid and I wanted to go plac-
es. My dad announced “How
about a bike?” I was three and
as usual I thought he meant
his bike and I exclaimed, “Are
you kidding! I’m too short!
Your bike is way too big!” Like
a cat in the rain I sprang away.
I was afraid of that monstrous
thing. Inside I was like a dog
with no bone to bury. Bore-
dom towered over me like a
house. Boredom ruled me.
I played cars, watched T.V,
and played planes. Outside, I
heard happy-sounds— “Wow!
Wahoo! Whoa! I trudged out
like a sloth; a snail could’ve
beaten me. I saw my dad; he
was having a lot of fun riding
his bike. Brave as a soldier
marching into battle I an-
nounced “I’ll do it! But how
do I reach the pedals?” “Well
this is a predicament,” My dad
declared with a strange smile.
I followed the obscure smile
onto the deck and a huge
cardboard box caught my
eye. It was so big an elephant
could’ve slept in it. What
could it be? A dog? No way,
my mom won’t allow it. A
hippo? Nope, it smells weird
and where would it swim.
What could it be? And then
he revealed it. A shiny green
bike! At first, I was afraid but
with dad’s encouragement,
I hopped on. After what felt
long enough for me to grow a
beard, I zoomed around like
a stampeding bull. “I did it!”
I sang. I’m ten years old now,
and I still remember my dad’s
words, “You’ve got to face
your fears, not fear them.”
Mrs. Diehl
By Stacey Jiang
I am a girl with hair as dark
as the color of sweet dark
chocolate, I have brown eyes
that take me to see the world
every day. Math, reading, so-
cial studies, and science facts
twirl around like ballerinas
in my head. But the subject
I like the most is writing. My
favorite writing teacher has
light brown curly hair with
a voice as lovely as the birds
chirping outside my window.
She encouraged me to be a
writer. Every time she starts
teaching, I never want the pe-
riod to end. She uses me as an
example sometimes, which
makes me feel special. Before
I met her, I didn’t really like
writing, but now I do! She’s a
mirror that reflected me and
pulled out the real me hiding
in the corners. She brings a
bright smile to every class. She
inspires me. She makes magic
everyday by using her magic
pen and writing magical things
on the board. Many teachers
and students talk about how
intelligent she is. Because of
all her hard work with me, I am
now a bright star shining in the
night sky. She’s the one who
really inspired me, and now I
want to be a writer.
My Dad
By Charlie Kinzie
One hot August day I
trudged to the Little League
field like a soldier to battle
with the beaming sun beat-
ing down on my baseball
cap. Today was the perfect
day to play baseball with my
dad who had an extensive
knowledge of baseball, and
was quite the player in col-
lege and high school. When
we got to the baseball field
my dad taught me the perfect
batting stance to hit a good
shot to the outfield. “Come
on get a good whack at it,”
my dad said. When I swung
I heard a noise like a swish
or whiff because I obviously
missed the ball by a mile. “It’s
okay, hit it the next time. It’s
only strike one,” were some of
my dad’s words that I soaked
up in my brain. Then it hap-
pened, I swung the bat so hard
I could have cracked stone
and the ball sailed right past
my dad. “Good Hit!” my dad
cheerfully yelled to me. As I
rounded third base, my dad
shouted, “Slide!” Obediently,
I followed my dad’s orders.
As I slid, “Safe” my dad hol-
lered out like an umpire. “You
did it,” were the three words
my dad said, that I will cher-
ish forever. Now, I’m eleven
and I want to be in the MLB.
These moments with my dad
not only inspired me to play
baseball but also taught me
how to cope with moments
when I strike out in life and
my head hangs low. Because
of his inspiration, I can now
hit a baseball, and I can also
hit home runs in school too.
Thanks Dad!
Good Stuff From 114 Students (Part 2)
Talented students fromMrs. Diehl’s writing class at PS 114 sometimes share their works with us. Enjoy!