Prison Ramen: Recipes and Stories from Behind Bars (14 page)

Clarence J. “Clancy” Brown III
is a film, television, and voice actor. He played Captain Byron Hadley in
The Shawshank Redemption.

Ingredients

1 pack beef flavor Ramen

1 cup boiling water

¼ pound sliced ham, chopped

¼ pound sliced turkey, chopped

½ white onion, chopped

2 jalapeño chiles, chopped

¼ teaspoon garlic powder

½ cup mayonnaise

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

2. Add the water, cover, and let sit for 8 minutes.

3. Drain off excess water.

4. Mix the ham, turkey, onion, jalapeños, garlic, and mayonnaise in a separate, very large bowl.

5. Add the Ramen and seasoning. Mix well.

W
hen I was in my thirties, I felt it was my responsibility to try to make a change in a younger inmate’s life. I was making these nachos when two youngsters, about nineteen years old, came over to see what I was doing. They considered themselves hardcore, so I knew I had to win them over before the schooling could begin. They were just kids, but their crimes where heavy. Out in the streets of Mexico they were called
sicarios
, which means “hit men.” But inside these walls, they were just another pair of numbers. They weren’t that bad—just terribly misguided. Without an education or money, it’s easy to get brainwashed into a life of violence, believing you’ll be protected within it. I saw my younger self in them. I wanted to give them the eyes to change the way they looked at things, so that the things they looked at would change.

We started meeting just to talk and shoot the shit. After months of this, I started to talk about more serious stuff—the kind of stuff I wish I’d known when I was their age. After a while, I could see my stories and ideas were affecting their way of thinking. They got involved with the school program, became regulars at the library, began talking differently. One of them even began to make amends with his family. I got to see the darkness in their eyes being replaced by hope before our friendship was forced to end.

The riots were out of control; inmates were being separated and shipped off to different prisons. Even though they had long prison terms ahead of them, I knew they were on a road to improving their lives for when they would get out.

Ingredients

3 cups or 3 bags (1 ounce each) tortilla chips

1½ cups charbroiled steak strips (also sold as fajita strips or carne asada strips)

1 cup microwavable cheese spread

Pickled jalapeño wheels

1. Spread the tortilla chips evenly on a plate.

2. Lay the steak strips over the chips.

3. Microwave the cheese for about 3 minutes, until pourable.

4. Pour the cheese over the steak and chips.

5. Top with the jalapeño wheels.

O
nce, at the L.A. County jail, I saw a man lying on the floor, shivering and sweating like crazy. You could tell he was a big-time addict by looking at his arms. Another inmate brought him this special drink—the Belushi. About 30 minutes later, after finishing it, he was calm and composed enough to walk over and thank the man.

I asked the lifesaving coffee maker why he called it a Belushi. He explained that John Belushi was a great comedian who died of a drug overdose. I guess having a sanity-saving, sugar-filled coffee drink named after you isn’t a bad way to be remembered. It’s loaded with sugar and helps with the symptoms of heroin detoxing.

Ingredients

1 tablespoon instant coffee granules (Taster’s Choice or Folgers works best)

1 tablespoon sugar

5 tablespoons French vanilla flavor creamer

1 cup boiling water

½ full-size (52-gram) or 1 miniature Milky Way bar

1. Place the coffee in a large mug. Add the sugar and creamer. Add the water and stir well.

2. Add the Milky Way.

3. Drink immediately, while the candy bar melts.

T
he prison head cold affects everyone and there’s no cure for it but freedom. It comes from living in a place where hygiene is nonexistent and the temperature is kept below normal all the time. Sometimes it feels like you’re sleeping in a refrigerator. The control booth officer decides the temperature. You can complain as much as you want, but a convict’s personal comfort is not a priority. In winter we’re freezing our balls off, and in summer they’re stuck on our sweaty thighs. In winter, when cold air would blast through the vents, we’d use toilet paper cardboard to plug the holes in the vent. If everyone on the cell row—or tier—did this, it would cause the weakest vent covers to blow off. It would look like a tornado hit the cell.

Ingredients

1 tea bag (any kind)

A few nickel-size pieces orange peel

3 cough drops (any flavor, but honey is best)

1 tablespoon sugar

1½ cups boiling water

2 tablespoons honey

1. Put the tea bag, orange peel, cough drops, and sugar in a mug big enough to hold them all easily.

2. Pour in the water, add the honey, and stir.

3. Let steep for about 4 minutes.

4. Stir again, then remove the tea bag.

5. Drink while it’s hot—although it’s not bad cold, either.

A
fter serving nearly a year at Corcoran, my appeal was being granted and I was returning to the L.A. County jail. As I approached my housing cell where I would await court on the appeal, I saw that I was being placed in a four-man cell. This wasn’t the problem. With a quick glance, I took in a white guy bunked with a Mexican on one side. On the other side, I locked eyes with a black guy who immediately stood up into an aggressive stance.
That
was the problem. “Hell no, I’m not celling with this dude.” My words fell upon the deputy’s deaf ears. A homie in another cell said, “Don’t trip, bro, just deal with it for now and at dinner I’ll explain.” When dinner was called a little while later, I kicked back and waited for my cellmates to leave. That’s when the homies on the tier gave me a shank and told me to carry it with me at all times due to the racial tensions.

When I returned from dinner, everyone was pretty much quiet, minding their own business. Then the white dude in the cell asked if we wanted to play Spades. He immediately picked his bunky, the Mexican, as his partner, saying they would play us. Me and the big guy looked at each other. “You play Spades, homie?” he said. I was a bit hesitant but because I was already in the cell, and packing, I said, “Sure.” I introduced myself, and met Big Kev.

Well, the two of us must have won twenty games straight. It was like he could see my cards and knew exactly what I needed him to play. After what seemed like five hours of cards, our opponents fell asleep. Kev and I stayed up and got to talking. I found out he had just been sentenced to fifty to life. He was only nineteen years old. He also had enough commissary that he was able to cook us a fantastic Tuna Spread. We just ate, drank coffee, and chopped it up for hours. Finally, just before breakfast, we called it a night. I felt comfortable enough to take my boots off. He asked me if I was going to get up for breakfast. I said, “Nah, I’m tired from being up all night, I’m going to skip it.”

Next thing I knew, I was jolted from a deep sleep by a yank on my leg through the cell bars. Looking up, I saw it was Big Kev—and he was running off. A second later, two big black dudes ran in and started beating me. I reached under my pillow for my shank and started swinging until I stuck one of my assailants under his chin. When they realized I had a knife and had stuck one of them, they stepped back and ran off. I jumped off my bed, swollen, bleeding from my nose, and slammed my cell door shut. After the smoke cleared, I discovered a vicious riot had occurred in the breakfast mess hall while I was sleeping. I never saw Big Kev again, but I realized he had saved my life. Thanks for looking out for me, brother.

Ingredients

2 packs Ramen (any flavor)

About 1 cup boiling water

½ cup mayonnaise

2 cans or pouches tuna (5 to 6 ounces each), drained

2 avocados, pitted, peeled, and chopped

1 cup shredded cheese (pepper Jack is best)

1. Crush and empty the Ramen into a large microwavable bowl and set the seasoning aside.

2. Add the water, cover, and microwave for about 5 minutes, until the noodles are soft.

3. Drain off excess water, if necessary.

4. Add the mayonnaise, seasoning, tuna, and avocado. Mix gently but well.

5. Top with the cheese.

L
ooking at these recipes, you might think we’re a bunch of big-belly pasta eaters and totally unhealthy. Not true. Being fit in prison is akin to having homies in prison. Without it, you’re closer to dead.

Of all government-sponsored organizations, Navy Seals have the most rigorous workout of all. But let me tell you, the prison workouts I’ve done behind bars could make even a Navy Seal throw up. In a cell of no more than six by eight feet, we do four exercises regularly.

The Roman chair workout is done barefoot, using the toilet as a prop: Step up and down on the cover or rim of the toilet, alternating the lifting leg. Speed up as you progress. Do this for 30 minutes.

After a 5-minute break, go into frog squats: Squat with hands on the ground in front of your feet. Jump your legs back away from you, then jump them back in. Do twenty sets of forty squats, for a total of—that’s right—800.

After another 5-minute break, start in on 1,000 pushups—twenty sets of fifty.

Enjoy another short break, then start in on 500 crunches.

This is just one of many routines that can be done in a cell. It can take a couple of hours to complete—or until you or your cellmate have had enough. Puking was a norm for the out-of-shape newbies.

But the real deal takes place out on the yard. That’s where we go beyond military. I used to run eight to ten miles on the track, followed by 113 burpees. The “burpee” is a full-body exercise that’s great for small indoor spaces, and even better outdoors where you can grunt in pain. The basic movement is performed in four steps, beginning from a standing position: