Prison Ramen: Recipes and Stories from Behind Bars by Clifton Collins Read Free Book Online

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.

Ramen Spaghetti
    Ingredients
    2 packs beef flavor Ramen
    1½ cups boiling water
    1 jar or pouch (10 ounces) meatballs in tomato sauce
    1 onion, chopped
    Pinch of garlic powder
    1. Crush the Ramen in the wrappers and empty into a bowl. Set aside one of the seasoning packets; save the other for another use.
    2. Add the water, cover, and let sit for about 8 minutes.
    3. Drain off excess water.
    4. Meanwhile, mix the meatballs, onion, seasoning, and garlic powder in a microwavable bowl.
    5. Cover and microwave for 3 to 5 minutes, until hot.
    6. Pour the mixture over the Ramen.

Escaping, Forever
    F or years, outside my cell window stood a huge fence, twenty feet high, covered with razor-tipped barbed wire. I have no doubt that almost every prisoner thought of hitting that fence at least once. Some guys would do more than think about it. For many of us, doing time became worse than the idea of being dead. Those were the ones that would make a run for the fence, hoping to be shot and killed. This was known as “suicide by escape.”
    I saw it in action in a way that just broke my heart. A good friend of mine was waiting for his family on visitation day. It was the best part of his week and they were very reliable. He’d always leave his time with them with a smile on his face and plenty of goodwill for everyone he ran into. One day, they just didn’t show up. He sat there, hour after hour, wondering what the holdup was. They didn’t show up all day and didn’t answer the phone when he called.
    Two days later a guard came to escort him to the chapel where the chaplain gave him the bad news. His family had crashed on the highway on their way up to visit him. His wife, kids, and mother-in-law all died in the accident. There were no survivors. With many years to go in his sentence, he literally had nothing to live for.
    Rumors quickly spread that he actually made it over the first fence. But by the second fence, two shots from a Mini-14 rifle gave him his freedom . . . to be with his family.

Caldo de Pollo (Chicken Soup)
    Ingredients
    1 pack chicken flavor Ramen
    1 cup boiling water
    ½ cup chopped baby carrots
    ¼ cup chopped onion
    Pinch of garlic powder
    ½ cup shredded or chopped cooked chicken breast
    1 jalapeño chile, chopped
    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.
    3. Add the carrots, onion, garlic powder, chicken, and jalapeño. Mix well.
    4. Cover and let sit until the vegetables are warm.

The Apprentice
    by Alma Blake, former Correctional Officer
    A s a former CO, I was a curiosity to the women I was incarcerated with. The first person to befriend me was Colombiana, and she resembled my mother. With her heavy accent she told me, “You see all these women? They all have a trade. They all know how to do or make something to help them get by. We all work at something. What can you do?” I didn’t have a response, so she peppered me with questions: “ Can you cook prison style? Can you draw? Can you color, gamble, thread eyebrows, sew?” My silence said it all. I didn’t know how to do any of those things. She offered me a plate of her delicious food and told me, “Don’t worry, Mami, we will find you something to do.” I felt ashamed that even though I had worked for over eight years in a