Prison Ramen: Recipes and Stories from Behind Bars (17 page)

Ingredients

20 oranges, cut in half

1 cup fruit punch drink

70 packets (1 teaspoon each) sugar (about 1½ cups total)

4 packets (0.39 ounces each) ketchup (about 3 tablespoons)

1 large slice bread (any kind—it provides the fermentation)

4 cups boiling water

1. Squeeze the oranges into a large, heavy-duty plastic bag, allowing a few orange pieces to fall into the bag. Do not use a zip-top or resealable bag; it will explode.

2. Add the fruit punch, sugar, ketchup, and bread.

3. Close the bag and tie a knot.

4. Remove the ink stick from a Bic pen. Use the empty chamber to poke a hole in the bag, leaving it in place. This will allow the pruno to breathe; otherwise, the bag might inflate and explode. A straw also works.

5. Place the bag in a bucket and pour the water around it. Cover the top of the bucket with a folded blanket or towel.

6. Once a day for the next 7 days, replace the hot water in the bucket. Keep it covered.

7. After a week, strain the pruno through a clean (or dirty) sock, removing the fruit clumps and bread. If you have a fine mesh strainer or cheesecloth, you’re probably not in prison.

T
he Fish Bowl was a must after a long night of getting wasted, especially after drinking pruno. Usually, we didn’t make pruno just for the hell of it. It was mostly for times of celebration—like a birthday or when a good friend is getting ready to parole. Sometimes these parties can end up really bad. When a lifer friend of mine we called Trouble was granted a release date, man, it was a party. Not only did we have pruno, but also a kitchen worker brought us a fifth of vodka. When you have a party with a bunch of opposing gang members, including killers, and serve pruno with vodka shots—it’s all bad! These guys are sworn enemies on the street. A lot of blood has been shed between them, and once liquor gets involved, old grudges seem to surface.

Most of these parties are in the kitchen area, behind closed doors. Free staff and COs turn a blind eye to the very vicious fights between old enemies. When we beat one another up, the COs don’t have to. Luckily, my friend Trouble didn’t get too wasted. It would have been a shame if he’d lost his chance at freedom over some drunk night in prison.

After a night like this, I’d wake up with the nastiest hangover. That’s when Plato de Pescado was a must. The spices in this dish clean you up and get you back on your toes.

Ingredients

1 pack shrimp flavor Ramen

¼ cup instant white rice

About 1½ cups boiling water

2 cans (4 ounces each) mackerel, drained

1 can (4 ounces) smoked oysters

1 summer sausage (about 9 ounces), chopped, or 1 can (9 ounces) Vienna sausage, drained and chopped

1 onion, chopped

2 jalapeño chiles, chopped

Pinch of garlic powder

4 tablespoons (¼ cup) strawberry jelly

6 tablespoons soy sauce

1 small bag (about 3 ounces) spicy pork skins or rinds

1. Crush the Ramen in the wrapper and empty into a microwavable bowl. Set aside the seasoning packet.

2. Add the rice. Add water until the rice and Ramen are submerged.

3. Cover, but leave a slight opening. Microwave for 10 to 12 minutes, until the rice and Ramen are soft.

4. Drain off excess water. Cover to keep warm.

5. Mix the mackerel, oysters, sausage, onion, jalapeños, seasoning, garlic powder, jelly, and soy sauce in a separate microwavable bowl.

6. Cover and microwave for about 6 minutes, until hot.

7. Add the pork skins and stir. Re-cover and microwave for 6 minutes more.

8. Serve on top of the Ramen-rice mixture.

A
fter years of doing time, and with plenty more to go, I was worn out and looking for a different way to get through the remainder. The will to get up every day was waning. Many of the homies around me dealt with their stress by abusing drugs. I couldn’t go out like that—it just wasn’t me. I confided in another inmate, Pastor Phil. I would pour out my troubles and worries, and he’d always have the right things to say.

He had a vision of preaching in every dorm of the Chino prison facility. This was something unheard of because of the prison gang politics, and doing this would put him at risk with the black and white inmates. He asked me to accompany him to preach and be an advocate to the other men who might be going through the same suffering I was. Even though I knew I’d get mean mug looks from the homies, I agreed to back Pastor Phil. He then asked for approval from the shotcallers to preach in the other dorms, and to our mutual surprise, he got it. It was settled.

The day before we were set to go into the first dorm, one of the biggest race riots in Chino occurred. Members of the most vicious gang were breaking down our doors, and we were trapped and outnumbered. Just about every other dorm had gone up in flames. Near the point of the door breaking in, the gang members were corralled by their seniors and told not to hurt us. It was unbelievable. We ended up making food and sharing a meal with some of the younger gang members.

Pastor Phil didn’t get to preach the way he intended to, but a miracle occurred just the same.

Ingredients

1 bag (8 ounces) instant white rice

2 cups hot water

3 summer sausages (about 9 ounces each), chopped, or 3 cans (9 ounces each) Vienna sausage, drained and chopped

3 pouches or cans (11 ounces each) cooked roast beef, chopped

1 can (16 ounces) refried beans

20 packets (1 teaspoon each) sugar (a little less than ½ cup total)

4 tablespoons (¼ cup) soy sauce

6 to 8 large flour tortillas

Sriracha sauce and/or mayonnaise

1. Combine the rice and water in a large microwavable bowl and stir.

2. Cover and microwave for 5 minutes or as directed on the package.

3. Mix the sausages, roast beef, refried beans, sugar, and soy sauce in a separate microwavable bowl.

4. Cover and microwave for 8 to 10 minutes, until hot.

5. Warm the tortillas in the microwave for 30 seconds.

6. Divide the rice evenly among the tortillas. Divide the filling over the rice and roll into burritos.

Note:
• Before you wrap up the burritos, try adding a shot of sriracha sauce and/or mayonnaise.
• These burritos pair well with small yellow chiles, nacho chips, and cold cola.

M
y birthdays in my twenties and most of my thirties were spent in prison. For my twenty-first birthday, I was working in the mess hall as a line server. Because I was the youngest of the crew, they treated me like a little brother, and of course, as their little brother, I had to endure plenty of practical jokes. Once, I left the line to go feed the sharks, and they snuck into the restroom with a trash can full of ice water! I didn’t even need to wipe my ass, they soaked me so completely. I thought that was my birthday present! But after a good laugh, they surprised me with this cake. It wasn’t the twenty-first birthday I’d imagined I’d have when I was a little kid, but it’s one I will always remember. Most of the men were lifers and probably will never get to celebrate any birthdays with their sons or brothers. My birthday cheered them up quite a bit, and that was okay with me.

Ingredients

12 chocolate cupcakes, wrappers removed

1 jar (18 ounces) Goober peanut butter–jelly mix

1 bag (6 ounces) mixed nuts

Note:
Nothing beats washing this down with some cold milk.

1. Place 8 of the cupcakes on a plate in a tight circle so that they’re all touching.

2. Place the remaining 4 cupcakes in the center, on top, so that it has the shape of a cake.

3. Spread the peanut butter and jelly mix all over the cake as icing. Microwaving the open jar softens it up and makes it more spreadable.

4. Crush the nuts in the bag. Sprinkle over the cake.

T
he first time I saw this candy was at the Tehachapi Prison. There was this guy, Jimbo, an older white dude who would sell just about anything and everything. He was always telling us that he could sell water to a fish. One time I noticed him walking around the prison yard with small baggies filled with this hard-time candy. He would sell them for two packs of Ramen per bag of candy. At first I was hesitant to try it, but like all good salesmen, he gave me a taste for free, and well, I was hooked! In prison, we all become hustlers, doing what we can to get by.

Ingredients

3 tablespoons presweetened cherry Kool-Aid powder

2 drops sriracha or other hot sauce

1. Put the Kool-Aid powder in a small bowl. Add the hot sauce.

2. Mix the Kool-Aid powder and hot sauce with a spoon, working the liquid into every granule of the powder. When it’s combined, flip it like a pancake and continue to press it with the spoon to spread the hot sauce evenly.

3. Repeat flipping and pressing until it forms a hard, nickel-size lump. Try not to add more liquid until you’ve worked it for a while and it solidifies.

4. For additional pieces of candy, repeat with more Kool-Aid and hot sauce.

D
uring my time in prison, I had the pleasure of seeing two lifers get released. The first one I met was just over fifty-five years old and had served thirty years in prison. I rarely talked to him on the yard because he mostly kept to himself. But the other was a good friend of mine who I got to know while I was at Corcoran. We called him Old Man Tony, and he served twenty-eight years before he was pardoned by the governor. He was a great storyteller and was often surrounded on the bleachers of the handball court, talking to homies about old times. He always had a good sense of humor and would say things like, “This is my house, and you kids are just visiting” or complain about the young kids by saying, “Stinking Pepsi generation.” When he got the news of his pardon, he didn’t look happy or even surprised. He told us he’d believe it when it happened. Well, a few months later that day happened. Two men were pardoned and released from many decades of prison. The day he left, the whole yard—blacks, whites, Hispanics, and even the COs—gave him a standing ovation as he walked across the yard toward the parole gate. The look on Old Man Tony’s face was of a person about to face the greatest challenge in his life. It’s very rare to see a lifer go home. One guy said, “It’s like Halley’s Comet, once in a great while.”

Ingredients

1 bag (12 ounces) crunchy chocolate chip cookies

6 packets (1 ounce each) cream cheese (¾ cup total)

2 tablespoons honey

2 tablespoons French vanilla flavor creamer

1 packet Sweet’N Low

¾ cup presweetened Kool-Aid powder (any flavor—a red flavor looks better than green or yellow)

1. Crumble the cookies into small pieces. You should have about 3 cups.

2. Pour the crumbs into a shallow microwavable bowl. Spread them around with a spoon to create a cookie crust.

3. Microwave for 3 to 4 minutes, until the crust is golden brown. Set aside to cool.

4. Mix the cream cheese, honey, creamer, Sweet’N Low, and Kool-Aid in a separate bowl until smooth.

5. Pour the cheese mixture over the crust.

6. Cover the cheesecake and place in the refrigerator or an ice-filled bucket for 4 to 5 hours, until solid.