Alice Adler

Upon first meeting Sidney, looking chipper and healthy, I asked, “Why in the world are you carrying that cane?” His reply...”So that people will treat me like a king and open doors for me!”

James Albrecht

I was a neighbor of Sid and Jackie Mintz when they lived in Harper House in Baltimore. Sid and I talked occasionally about recipes for dishes from different cultures of the world, but we really got serious about single malt scotch whiskeys! Sid and I both had pretty good collections of single malts, and often, when I visited with Jackie to discuss Harper House board business, Sid would challenge me to describe his latest whiskey “find”.

In Sid’s memory I am sending my never-before-shared recipe for Chili Con Carne. Knowing of Sid’s love for and interest in spices and seasonings of the world I know he would have loved this recipe. 

DR. ALBRECHT’S CHILI CON CARNE

½ TO ¾ LB. mild Italian sausage

1 ½ lb. ground beef

1 tsp seasoned salt

¾ green papper (chopped)

2 medium onions (finely chopped)

3 cloves garlic

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil (optional)

2 ½ Tbsp. McCormick chili powder

2 Tbsp. distilled vinegar

1 can tomato paste

1 can tomato sauce

1 can stewed tomatoes

1 can dark red  Bush kidney beans

Dash of MSG is optional

Brown meats and vegetables. Then add other ingredients and simmer for 2-3 hours. Best if made a day before serving.

Kamran Ali

I met Sid later in his life, which may be my life long regret. I entered the anthropology graduate program at Johns Hopkins in 1987. That is the year Sid turned sixty-five. I remember my first meeting in the hall-way when I addressed him as Professor Mintz and he in his characteristic manner said something about how his name was Sid and not Professor Mintz. This was new to me, coming from a much more hierarchical academic and social environment in Pakistan, where one could not even imagine addressing someone your senior with his or her first name. Sid through his small gestures, which were always pedagogical moments, made me realize that true respect does not only reside in forms of address and in honorifics. Later that year in November Jackie and Sid invited the entire department for a birthday lunch at a Chinese restaurant in the city. We all felt extremely honored. Some of us had already heard about his legendary cooking (and also tasted it), so we decided to get him an apron and a chef’s cap which said, “Sid the Kid” as a birthday gift. It was a lovely afternoon with the entire department, faculty, students and staff together enjoying Jackie and Sid’s hospitality.

This is what Sid exemplifies for me, the person who brought us together. He remained the moral fulcrum of the program. All of us were deeply influenced by his intellectual vision (for the department and for anthropology in general), his political insights and his generosity as a teacher; we were Sid’s students, his children…. and remain proud of it.

Over the years Syema and I kept in touch with Jackie and Sid, exchanging messages, seeing them at annual meetings and visiting them in Baltimore. I am indebted to Sid for much that I know today and the only way I can repay … I know he would approve…is to pass on what I learnt from him to the next generation.

He was the leader of our small caravan and among may other things, he taught us to trust and respect the voices of the marginalized and to dream of a future that would guarantee social justice, dignity and respect for all.

This is the vision that many of us hold dear, so rather than saying goodbye… Sid, I am sure we will meet again when, as the Urdu poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz wrote;

Uthe ga ana al-haq ka nara

Jo mai bhi huN or tum bhi ho

Aur raj kare gi khalq e khuda

Jo mai bhi huN or tum bhi ho

The call of ‘I am the truth’ will rise

Truth, that we all are

And God’s people will rule the earth

God’s people, that we all are

TILL THEN, Sid….

Gary Beauchamp

Survival of Sidney Mintz

I first met Sid when he was doing research in the 1970s in the tiny library of my fledgling institution, the Monell Chemical Senses Center – then part of the University of Pennsylvania. At Monell we study taste and smell and of course this was directly relevant to Sid’s interest in sweetness but also more broadly to his interests in food. So over the years we occasionally met to discuss food, taste, flavor and – of course – the pleasure of eating. My approach was much more biological than anthropological and this made for some good debates. I was never quite sure that I was able to convince him that human liking for sweetness was innate. But I think it is telling that the title of his seminal book was “Sweetness and Power” not “Sugar and Power.” This attests to the central role of sensory perception in the remarkable role sugar has had in human society about which he wrote so insightfully.

One year I invited him to give an after dinner talk at our annual gathering for financial supporters at the Penn Museum. I had arranged for Sid to be at my table and before his talk I got the opportunity to tell my favorite anthropology story that had slightly touched me personally.

This is the story briefly: At the time this happened I was working with Mary Douglas (of “Purity and Danger” fame), who was in the U.S. at the Russell Sage Foundation. For complicated reasons my wife Fay and I were invited up to her apartment in New York because she wanted us to impress another guest whose support she needed at the Foundation. That guest was John Buettner-Janusch. Although I recall we did our best, I am sure he was unimpressed – and the feeling was mutual. It was one of the most unpleasant dinners I ever had, in spite of Mary’s attempts to keep things on the light side.

After that dinner, Fay and I often talked about how disagreeable we found Buettner-Janusch as a dinner companion. Then one day a year or so later, we heard that he had been arrested and put in jail for misusing federal funds. I can’t say we were totally surprised. Then I got to the part of my story (which I am sure most anthropologists know quite well) where Buettner-Janusch is paroled and proceeds to send poisoned candies to the judge who sentenced him. The judge’s wife consumed some of the candy, became ill, but thankfully did not die. The FBI got involved, found his fingerprint on the tape that was used to wrap the candy, and identified Buettner-Janusch as the culprit. He was re-arrested and sent back to jail, where he eventually died.

At this point in my story, Sid speaks up: “Did you know that poison candies were sent to others?” he asked. I said no. He said, “I also got a box of that candy!” Remarkably, Sid then proceeded to complete my story – candies were sent by Buettner-Janusch to Sid’s address, but he was away and the students who were living there put them in the refrigerator. So luckily, they were never eaten. One of my proud possessions is a well-worn copy of “Sweetness and Power” with the following inscription: “For Gary Beauchamp from the anthropologist who nearly didn’t make it (!) with best wishes. Sid Mintz.” Thank goodness!

I last saw Sid a year or so ago in Baltimore, at the home of a mutual friend, Jim Albrecht. The company was certainly much better than at Mary Douglas’s apartment. After a bit of prodding, I induced Sid to tell this story to the others at the dinner table from his viewpoint. His laughter while recounting it was infectious, and the strange irony of the connection between the sweetness and power of Buettner-Janusch’s candies did not go unnoticed. I should finish this with a recipe for candy but unfortunately I don’t have one, certainly not one with poison although we are now being warned that sugar itself is poison.  

From left: Gary Beauchamp, Sid Mintz, Fay Beauchamp