In prison, having money in your commissary account is the difference between the misery that comes with a flavorless, horribly predictable life, where there is little creativity, and one in which you could travel to places of your youth by imitating the meals your mother made. With a little money, you could show some appreciation for your friends by hosting a spread that lets you all feel like humans rather than numbers for a while. Food items at the commissary are nothing like you’ll find in a gourmet shop. Obviously, we didn’t have anything that came in a metal can—it would need to be opened with a weapon and then it would become a weapon itself—so you’ll see reference to pouches and various prepared items that you may not be able to find in your local store, but you’ll find something close enough.
Cooking in prison is much different from cooking in the comforts of home. For one, in prison you don’t have the luxury of cooking with proper utensils. Microwaves in prison are weak, so the timing should be adjusted for more modern microwaves. Bags from pork skins or rinds were a useful cooking tool because boiling water never melted the bag. Large buckets lined with plastic trash bags would be used to cook huge spreads.
We’d create sauces by combining ingredients available to us. For instance, strawberry jelly mixed with soy sauce made a pretty good teriyaki sauce. Sometimes we’d melt cheese by putting a jar of cheese in boiling water. We worked with what was available, and created the surprisingly tasty dishes you’ll find in this book.