Daniel Conderman 
Jail isn’t exactly known for its fine dining, but if you knew the right guys, you could eat like a king. Commissary was limited, vending machines weren’t much better, and yet, somehow, the best cooks in there made magic happen. Every single piece of minor equipment—hot pots, bowls, sporks—was pushed to its limits. You could spot the ones who genuinely loved the art of cooking, the ones who took pride in crafting dishes and getting others to taste-test.
One guy had a Baja burrito recipe down to an exact science. Nineteen different ingredients—one of them being grape jelly, believe it or not—and somehow, it was amazing. This was the kind of thing you’d only eat in jail, something you’d never even think about making on the outside, but in that moment, it was a culinary masterpiece. I still have the recipe written down somewhere.
That was the beauty of jailhouse cooking—everyone working with the same trash-tier ingredients, but some guys elevated it. These weren’t just ‘make-do’ meals. Some of these guys could have been real chefs. They found ways to layer flavors, work with textures, and turn absolute garbage food into something special. If they had a proper kitchen? Who knows what they could have done.
And then, coin collecting.
Not exactly a hobby most people associate with doing time, but when you’ve got nothing but time, you start to notice things.
We were allowed $20 a day in vending machine coins—always the $1 presidential coins. Over time, I realized certain presidents showed up all the time, while others were almost impossible to find. That got me thinking. If I cycled my coins out, kept the rare ones, and brought new ones in, I could build a real collection. And I did. I eventually managed to get up to 40 unique presidential dollars, which was pretty damn cool for being stuck behind bars.
But the real prize? The First Lady coins.
Now, these shouldn’t even be in circulation, but guess what? People don’t know what they have. Some kid finds a roll of collectible coins, spends them on snacks, and boom—now a coin worth real money is floating around the jail economy. It became a bit of a side mission to see if I could snag one. Never did, but I knew a guy who did once, and he made sure it found its way back outside before anyone could spend it on a honey bun.
Cooking and coin collecting. Two things I never thought I’d associate with jail, but here we are. And honestly? I kinda miss both.
Stay tuned for Volume 4.
