Prison Ramen: Recipes and Stories from Behind Bars (8 page)

I got my whole back piece done over two weeks, lying on my stomach for two to three hours at a time. The session took place in a container—like a trailer—used to store weights. There would be two guys standing outside as lookouts while the tattoo artist worked. Halfway through, the tattoo artist and I got into a heated argument that resulted in a vicious fight! He took out his aggression by practically butchering me with his homemade tattoo gun. I made it through and recovered with help from the homies. It’s a wonder the infections didn’t put me down for good.

Ingredients

1 pack chicken flavor Ramen

1 cup boiling water

1 summer sausage (about 9 ounces), chopped

2 tablespoons honey

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

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

3. Drain off excess water.

4. Microwave the sausage in a separate bowl until hot.

5. Add the sausage and seasoning to the Ramen and stir.

6. Drizzle the honey on top.

W
hen you get arrested in Los Angeles, your first stop is the city’s substation jail—a police station holding cell. If you can’t make bail, you’re sent to the L.A. County jail. There, the smell attacks you the minute you walk inside. If you don’t notice it immediately, it’s probably because all you can smell is the stinky ass of the guy in front of you.

If you’re not a first-time convict, you’ll probably be sent to state prison, where you’re surrounded by killers, lifers, and prison gang members. If you get in trouble in prison you go to Administrative Segregation, aka the Hole, either for your own safety or for others’. If you screw up in the Hole—maybe fighting with your cellmate or assaulting an officer—you go to the Security Housing Unit (SHU). This is a single-man cell, and you’re handcuffed and escorted by officers wherever you go—even to take a shower. If you need to shave, the officer will hand you a dull disposable razor once you’re inside the shower cell. Then the officer will check the razor for its blade upon its return. You are escorted outside to the yard for one hour a day, staying inside what appears to be a large dog kennel. Usually, there are ten kennels in an area about as big as a basketball court, surrounded by fifteen-foot-high walls. Only thing you can see is the sky. If you get into trouble while in SHU, then you end up in the last stop.

Deep Administration Segregation (Deep AD-SEG) is known as your final time-out. It’s underground or far away from other cells. You are all alone, with no cellmate or anyone close enough to talk to through the vents. No TV, radio, or any appliance. Just you, four walls, a toilet, and your cement bed. The only light is controlled by officers you can’t see or talk to. It’s not unusual to be stuck there for a full year. In my experience, most guys who end up in solitary confinement suffer from some type of antisocial disorder.

Ingredients

2 packs shrimp flavor Ramen

1½ cups boiling water

¾ cup prepared clam chowder

½ cup chopped baby carrots

½ cup chopped onion

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1. Crush the Ramen in the wrapper and empty into a bowl. Add the seasoning.

2. Add the water, stir, cover, and let sit for 8 minutes. Do not drain.

3. Mix the clam chowder, carrots, onion, and garlic powder in a microwavable bowl.

4. Cover and microwave for about 5 minutes, until hot.

5. Add to the Ramen. Mix well.

I
n the late 1990s, an inmate was entitled to thirty pounds of groceries every three months from an approved vendor—always one of the local grocers. On visiting day, an inmate’s family members would go to the approved grocer, pick up the groceries, and bring them to the inmate. It was the highlight of the month.

Back then, there was a guy who claimed to be a major pimp on the streets, boasting and bragging about all the women he had out there taking care of him. How he was such a player that sometimes he had two women visiting him at the same time, always showing off nude photos of different women. This bragging sometimes went on for hours. One time on our way to package pickup, he kept bragging about his girls and saying things like, “I wonder which of my girls is sending me a package this time” and “Pimping ain’t easy but it sure is fun!” This was getting on everyone’s nerves. Even the officer had had enough and told him to pipe down with all that bullshit. When this “pimp” was finally called to step up and receive his package, to his and everybody’s surprise, his “girl” sent him thirty pounds of canned dog food! The look on this guy’s face went from pimp to wimp! His homies couldn’t stop clowning him, and even the officers had a good laugh and some shit to say. But turns out the pimp didn’t come up empty-handed. The officer passing out the packages offered him twenty bucks for the box of dog food, saying he had two “bitches” at home that would love this care package.

Ingredients

1 pack chili flavor Ramen

1 cup boiling water

1 can (5 to 6 ounces) tuna, drained

¼ pound small red potatoes, cooked and quartered

½ green bell pepper, seeded and chopped

1½ teaspoons dried dill

¼ cup olive oil

1. Crush the Ramen in the wrapper and empty into a 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 tuna, potatoes, green pepper, dill, olive oil, and seasoning in a large bowl.

5. Add the Ramen. Mix well.

T
he L.A. County jail has its urban legends, but one I can say might have been true was about the punch that was served with lunch and dinner. There was always plenty on every table, as it was served in big pitchers, and I always had a few cups with dinner. Three months into my first time in L.A. County, I was finally told by an older homeboy, “Stop drinking the punch; it’s not good for you, little homie.” He said it was made with a substance called saltpeter, which contained potassium nitrate. Clueless of what he was telling me, I said, “Saltpeter? Potassium nitrate? What the hell is all that?”

He laughed and said, “Okay, let me ask you this. When’s the last time you beat your meat?” I asked him what the hell that had to do with saltpeter or potassium nitrate? He said saltpeter is put in the punch in order to suppress our sexual urges. It makes us less violent and keeps us calm. I really couldn’t believe what he was telling me, and I just brushed him off. But back in my cell I started to wonder why I hadn’t beat my meat in just over three months. Then it started to mess with my head—both heads. I wasn’t able to get the usual morning erection as before, and didn’t even have the urge to stroke it. That did it.

From then on, I refused to drink that punch. After a few days, as I started to forget about the whole saltpeter thing, I was awakened by the stiffest boner I ever had in my life! Man, it was at attention and saluting proudly. What else could I do but . . . relieve my stress.

Ingredients

1 pack shrimp flavor Ramen

1 cup boiling water

¼ cup chopped red onion

2 jalapeño chiles, chopped

1 tomato, chopped

Pinch of dried oregano

2 cans (3 ounces each) baby clams, drained

½ avocado, sliced

1. Crush the Ramen in the wrapper and empty into a 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 onion, jalapeños, tomato, and oregano in a separate bowl.

5. Add the Ramen, seasoning, and baby clams. Mix well.

6. Top with the avocado slices.

By David Anthony Faustino

B
eing a celebrity from a hit TV show had its advantages. Dinner at the finest restaurants without a reservation. The front of the line of the hardest clubs to get into. Getting attention from girls I should never get attention from. Also, rarely getting harassed by cops. I’d fly down the 101 like a spoiled little brat, and when I’d get pulled over, they’d say, “Hey. It’s Bud Bundy! How’s your sister, bro?” No tickets for me in L.A. or anywhere nearby.

Once, my (now ex) wife and I went to visit her family from Daytona Beach, Florida. We went out with some friends one night and I got extremely drunk. I started to argue with my wife in public. It got so bad that three cops swooped down on us. I tried pulling the old “I’m Bud Bundy” shit, but I was such a sloppy, rude drunk, the cops said, “We don’t care. You’re going to jail.” I spent about six hours in a single-man cell. Unbelievably, when they came to get me, I start talking shit again. I called the woman who was booking me all kinds of names. Finally, another officer yelled out, “Yo, dog, I swear to God, shut up or you’re back in that cell for a long time!” I shut my mouth and didn’t say another word.

After this incident, I cut way back on alcohol. I realized that when I drink too much, I’m nothing more than that loud asshole at the party that no one likes. Who wants to be that guy?

David Anthony Faustino
is an American rapper who has appeared in dozens of films and television series, and is primarily known for his role as Bud Bundy on the FOX sitcom
Married . . . with Children
from 1987 to 1997, and for voicing Mako in
The Legend of Korra.

Ingredients

2 flour tortillas

1 bag (8 ounces) of Cheez-Its, or any other empty plastic chip bag to form the burrito

1 pack chili flavor Ramen

½ cup of Cheez-Its or any cheese cracker

½ cup refried beans

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

1 small bag (about ¼ cup) Cheetos, crushed in bag

1 hot pickle, chopped

1½ cups boiling water

3 tablespoons squeezable cheese, or more to taste

1. Place one flour tortilla, open, inside the bottom of the plastic chip bag.

2. Crush the Ramen in the wrapper. Pour it into the bag on top of the open tortilla.

3. Add the seasoning, Cheez-Its, refried beans, sausage, Cheetos, and hot pickle.

4. Cover the mixture with the other flour tortilla. Wrap the top tortilla together with the bottom tortilla, nice and tight. The bag helps to hold the form of the burrito.

5. Add the water. Carefully fold the bag tightly and let sit for about 8 minutes.

6. When ready, slide the burrito out of the bag and onto a plate, and top it with the squeezable cheese.

I
n the federal prison system, carrying a weapon undetected is an art. There are metal detectors in every officer’s hand, and everyone is swiped before entering any building. So inmates came up with a much deadlier weapon, one that’s a lot easier to hide from the common metal detector: the razor blade. Masterfully cracking open the plastic housing of a disposable shaving razor with a set of nail clippers, you very carefully remove the delicate blade from the plastic shaver. If used properly, you can slice a man’s jugular vein in one quick swipe. Easy to carry, easy to hide. It can be carried in the mouth, sticking to the side of your tongue or against your cheek. The COs never seem to swipe a face with their metal detectors.