HARSHEST FOOD REVIEW EVER, BIG EVIL ON THE CUISINE AND SERVICE AT L. A.'s MEN'S CENTRAL JAIL DURING PANDEMIC

I’ve read and heard my share of bad restaurants reviews from the likes of Ruth Reichl, Jonathan Gold, Michael Bauer, S.I. Virbila, Gael Greene, Jenn Harris, Russ Parsons. Kate Green and an assortment of people who fancy themselves critics. Some have expressed disgust and twisted their face into near-grotesque distortion when describing what they ate and how it was served.

But, never, and I mean never ever, has anyone put food and service down as brutally as Cleamon “Big Evil” Johnson did in a telephone call to me Monday afternoon from Men’s Central Jail in Los Angeles, the largest jail in the United States.

“I would catch another case if my cell door was unlocked because i would chase down these mutherfuckin’ trustees they let serve us the shit food,” said Johnson, 52, once of 89 Family Swan Bloods who is facing five murder charges and one attempted murder from cases in the 1990s. (Long story) “I’d chase them down the tier and beat their asses something fierce.” Then Cleamon, who I’ve known since the 1990s, unleashes his famous Big Evil laugh.

He explains why he would beat his servers who are trustees, so called because they are inmates in the jail who have gained the “trust” of the jailers.

‘I won’t even get to the shit food, yet. the service. We got Covid about to break out and they send these trustees down the tier with no masks, no gloves. Half these mutherfuckas have runny noses, they coughing, scratching their asses, Disgusting. and they serving the food.”

The County Sheriffs deputies themselves are gloved and masked up. And they even handed out one pair of gloves to inmates two weeks ago. Johnson’s big hands, with six black swollen knuckles - the result of decades of punching enemies in the face - would not be kind to a single pair for gloves for two weeks.

And now, what you critics have been waiting for, Big Evil’s review of the food at the Los Angeles Men’s Central jail.

“The food up in here is fuckin’ nasty. i don’t even know the name of half this shit It got so bad, i asked for a special diet. i didn’t even know what that meant exactly. But lately I’ve been getting what i think is chicken six times a week. This stuff is not from a kitchen. It’s straight out of a laboratory. it’s either still alive or its been dead way too long. And stink? Man, it always stinks. You literally taken a chance when you eat it.”

The other staple is franks on a tortilla. “You ever had a hot dog on a tortilla? And the other day I got nine hard tortillas. That’s it.”

Fortunately for Johnson,, he has a brother or cousin or friend who put a few bucks “on his books” and he buys “food” out of the vending machine.

Like everyone on the outside, he’s concerned about Covid.

Johnson says it’s eerie in the County these days and it feels the Corona virus moving through the tier. “All damn night, all you hear is people coughing and sneezing. i’m serious. All night long. i got a big ‘ol plastic sheet fastened to the front of my cell and my blanket tied up to the front, too.

“It’s seems like a powder key up in here just waiting to be lit. Once someone gets Covid up in here, there’s gonna be no choice but for it to just run right through this place.”

If you care to write to him address the letter as follows

Cleamon Johnson #3027306
po box 86164
terminal annex LA CA.90086