My Brooklyn

Sheldon (Shike) Steinman continues . . .

Weekend clubroom parties were common. That was the highlight of my social activity. I still remember slow dancing to those early rock and roll tunes and holding my date real close to me.

Our clubroom was in a rented basement on Amboy St. It was furnished with members donated furniture or furniture stolen from luxury apartment house lobbies. We had indirect lighting to set the mood for the necking and what ever else occurred. We even had a bar, which I helped decorate. I also designed a club logo. It featured a shield with a sword and a snake shaped like the letter "S" over the sword.

All organized groups or clubs of that era wore club jackets. The Saxon's jacket was a reversible baseball type warm up jacket. One side was black wool fabric, displaying the graphics, “Saxons SAC" (social athletic club.) The lettering was applied in silver satin. The reverse side of this prestigious garment sported a silver satin look with black graphics. The member’s name or nickname was embroidered on the front of both sides. These uniforms gave us status and identity in the neighborhood. We adopted a gang mentality, chose leaders and staked out our turf on the streets of Brownsville. Within our boundaries, we were the kings, the good guys.

The Saxons eventually grew into an organization of about 30 members. We had a charter, a constitution, and club officers. As I recall Matty Stein was the president and for a time I was the treasurer.

Most of the clubs of the 50s modeled their groups after a fictitious gang, "The Amboy Dukes." The Dukes were a gang described in a famous novel of those days by the same name. Their activities centered in and about the streets of Brownsville. Coincidentally, with our clubroom located on Amboy St., made us especially proud to be a Saxon. "The Amboy Dukes" was our bible.
Not all of our endeavors were girls. Before I discuss other aspects of my youth, let me mention a few of the girls I remember. My earliest girlfriend was Harriet who lived across the street from my friend Jacky. There was Eileen, who I frequently took to the clubroom. We also hung out with a click of girls that included Fat Norma, Sue, Shrimp Boats, and Coconuts. These of course were nicknames. How can I forget the three most important loves of my youth, Gladys, Gail and Judy? Judy and I were actually engaged to be married, but that's another story. What became of all these young girls? Will I ever know?

Getting back to the question: what is an egg cream? If Brooklyn were a nation, it would probably be the national drink. Here is the recipe. To be authentic, this sweet chocolate soda fountain treat should be served in a 12-ounce Coca Cola bell shaped glass. The first ingredient is approximately 2 ounces of milk, followed adding seltzer while stirring vigorously, thus creating a white foamy head. Then add Fox's U-Bet Chocolate syrup while continuing to stir. There you have it, a simple, refreshingly delicious fountain delight, and it contains not one egg.
Where did one purchase an egg cream? The candy store of course, sometimes referred to as a luncheonette. The candy store and all of its long forgotten nostalgic goodies shall begin our adventure into yesteryear.

Brownsville in the 50s was a large over populated Jewish neighborhood; thus most of the inhabitants and merchants were Jews. Virtually all of the candy stores and delicatessens were owned and operated by Jews, and even a few of the Chinese restaurants were.
The typical candy store was usually a small mom-and-pop establishment. To the Saxons It was our turf headquarters, the place where we met to discuss life. It was the place where countless arguments occurred regarding who was the best center fielder, Mays, Mantle or Snider? We discussed religion, sports, cars, politics and most of all, girls. We called girls for dates from the wooden phone booths usually located in the rear corner of the store. The interior of these phone booths allowed us a private sanctuary. They were usually scrawled with crude graffiti like, "call Glenda for a hand job," "Marsha Puts out," or "Richie is a faggot." Today, if the same phone booth still exists in Brownsville, the inscribed graffiti would probably be in Spanish. I can still remember sitting at the phone scanning through my little black book, searching for the right number to call for a date.

Most candy stores had a small newsstand, a soda fountain and a greasy sandwich grill. The age of the candy store peaked during the decade of the 50s. For me it was a place to go to meet the guys. It was a place to discuss our dreams and futures. It was a place to have an egg cream. It was a place I miss.

I can still picture the soda fountain bar, the torn leatherette and chrome bar stools and the white miniature hexagon tiles on the floor. This was the typical candy store decor of that time. I can visualize the marble counter cluttered with open display boxes of assorted treats that included such delicacies as mallowmars, marshmallow twists, chocolate covered halvah and marmalade. For a chocoholic this was heaven. There were a vast variety of chocolate-coated candies that could be purchased for a few pennies. My favorite was the halvah covered with a coating of bittersweet chocolate. For just three cents you had three fantastic mouthfuls. There were other delightful candies to satisfy the nosher, like strawberry flavored jelly bars and for the really discriminating, there were frozen twists. This was a marshmallow bar that was frozen solid. The soft and chewy variety was also available.

My body was nurtured on much of the junk food of that era, which probably accounts for some of my current health problems. What I remember most about candy store cuisine was the ice cream. To this very day, I am a true ice cream maven. Let me mention the Dixie Cup. Although they are still around, the Dixie Cup of that era was something unique. The lids were collectable. They were printed with photographs of movie stars and sports figures. As kids we collected and traded them. There was a thin piece of paper under the lid to protect the photo from the ice cream. I can recall other ice cream delights that I have not seen since those golden days. The mellow roll is one that I do remember. This old time ice cream treat has gone the way of the dinosaur. To a true ice cream lover, the smooth creamy texture of a mellow roll was preferred over sex. The mellow roll was a 2-inch diameter cylinder of ice cream, by about 3 inches long, seductively wrapped in a tube of heavy white paper. This unusual shape was then set atop of a custom designed edible holder that was made from the same ingredients as an ice cream cone. It was only available in the three generic flavors, vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. To the ice cream purist, this was heaven.

After a game of stickball a great way to cool off and quench my thirst was to have a refreshing lime rickey, another soda fountain favorite. It consisted of seltzer, a dash of cherry and lime syrup and a slice of lime.

Before I discuss other subjects, let me recall some other candy store trivia.

I remember buying little multicolored candy dots, lined up like a brigade of soldiers on a long strip of white paper. It was sold by the linear yard. I also remember little metal foil dishes of approximately one-inch diameter filled with a waxy, sugary candy concoction. It came with a tiny metal foil spoon.

The candy store was filled with so many Epicurean delights; it would even make Willy Wonka drool.

Back then, sundaes were called "frappes" and the whipped cream was made from real cream. Today's milk shake was the "malted" (made with malt) of yesteryear. The glass (no paper cup) was lined with whipped cream, prior to pouring the malted from its frosty steel-mixing container. Where in this new age can this heavenly drink be obtained?

Thinking back, I recall the "walk-away frappe." For a reduced cost, the "soda jerk" would prepare a smaller frappe with all the toppings in a paper cup, to go.

"How many eggs in an egg cream?" continues . . .

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