Friday Meals on Reels: Prison Chow Double Foodgrab Edition!

Who doesn’t enjoy a good prison movie? The squalor, the man-on-man violence, the solitary confinement – the triumph of the human spirit and/or the unceremonious crushing of it. Prison movies have enjoyed a long and storied history in cinema, and the symbolism of food in these movies is easy to spot. Movie prison food tends to fall into two main categories: to depict how crappy life is on the inside (moldy bread, grey shapeless mush, the inevitable vermin) or to hint at freedom, a life beyond the bars via a secret treat or smuggled contraband (a forbidden candy bar! a pie with a hacksaw!).

In 1967’s Cool Hand Luke, our first foodgrab appears after Luke and his new pals have spent a brutally hot day on the road crew: One of the things that occurs to me about this screenshot is that for some reason cornbread seems to figure prominently in prison movie food scenes – think The Green Mile, in which cornbread makes not one but two key appearances. Is this because of the somewhat southern nature of his delightful and tasty sidedish, and the fact that many prison movies seem to take place in the south or in rural areas? Or does cornbread have some kind of other-worldly significance in terms of the human spirit and our quest for justice and freedom?

The other thing I notice is that baked beans have once again figured prominently in this movie’s first on-camera edible. Is there something inherently cinematic about baked beans? This sounds like a film studies masters student dissertation to me, and I’ll bet that some of Godard’s lesser-known works prominently featured baked beans.

But you can’t really feature prison movies (at least on my site) without also mentioning the superlative The Shawshank Redemption, where food shows up promptly at just about the 21-minute mark: This movie’s use of food definitely falls into the “prison totally sucks” category shortly after this moment where Andy Dufresne, bravely soldiering through his first lockdown meal, encounters not only maggots in his bread but also an introduction to the man/men who will soon rape him! That’s not exactly my idea of an enjoyable dinner party, but such is the state of cinematic prison stories.

The gloriously irresistible and filled-with-moxie Mrs. Burbanked will serve up a dish so powerfully good it will erase your memories of those three months you spent in solitary confinement, after the jump.

Today’s Friday Meals on Reels: Fresh Meat Salsa Jailbird Chicken

• 4 boneless skinless chicken breast halves
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2/3 cup salsa
• 2/3 cup Mexican cheese blend (such as cheddar, Monterey Jack, etc.)

Spray a shallow baking dish with some of that stuff that makes it not sticky, then place your chicken into it lined up like cots in the men’s dormitory. Sprinkle your salt around as if you’re distributing dirt around the prison yard after digging a secret tunnel. Pour the salsa over your chicken and liberally distribute cheese all over the top. Cover the whole thing and bake it at 350° F for 25 -30 minutes or until the chicken juices resemble a color that suggests a lack of botulism. Serve and enjoy this dish that’s easier than “Annette” over in E-block and tasty enough for the most ball-breakingest of prison wardens.