In
1998 I had a strange dream. While working on a dissertation about West
Indian immigrants’ relations with police and media, for some reason my brain
decided to contemplate North Africa, a region I had never even had the pleasure
of visiting. I was hiking up a truly deserted desert hillside, and on
reaching the top I could see a great expanse of rolling landscape sparsely
covered with low, scrubby vegetation. The scene was breathtaking and
empty. But then whom should I spy across a little valley, wandering along
the top of another hill? Sidney Mintz, singing amiably, dressed in a
long, white, “Western”-style wedding dress. My dreaming mind guessed that
he must be engaged in some sort of transcendant experience.
As
his thesis advisee and therefore in a position to offer Sid all the respect he
deserved, it was with a little trepidation that I emailed him about this dream.
But I couldn’t resist. I knew firsthand of Sid’s great sense of
humor, so I figured (and hoped) he would enjoy the imagery.
Sid
shot back with a one-sentence reply that fit him perfectly. He simply
asked, in astonished capital letters, “HOW DID YOU KNOW???”
…
Sid had
an unpretentious confidence; he neither believed in nor needed to guard his
status jealously, to show off, or to pull rank. His ability to talk to
all kinds of people and genuinely to treat each one as valuable and smart made
him a great fieldworker. It also made him a great mentor. And a
great friend.
Studying soybeans together,
Sid and I had occasion to speak a couple of times with a prominent natural
foods CEO. Once, gesturing over to Sid, who was walking through a
conference hall, the executive asked me, “Is he at the top of his field?”
“Yes, he most definitely is,” I answered.
“I can tell.”
“How?”
“He doesn’t act like he’s
at the top of his field. He’s not trying to prove anything. That’s
how people at the top act.”
…
I
only knew Sid after he was already very prominent. But I’m aware from
others that Sid was actually an unaffected, anti-hierarchical, sincerely open
person all his life. He was incredibly sophisticated without being at all
haughty.
Sid’s
openness drew out the best in many, many people. He drew out the best in
me. He put up with my tendency to be skeptical and question everything—my
devil’s advocate side. I’d throw out crazy or heretical thoughts, just
batting ideas around, and he’d debate them with me. He seemed to understand
my intellectual style for coming to conclusions, and he did not judge it.
He believed in me, as an academic and as a person. It is a very
powerful thing to be believed in, to feel the solid weight of that assurance
surrounding you and buoying you up. You never forget it.
I am,
certainly, who I am in part because of Sid, and I will be grateful to him every
day for the rest of my life.
A favorite recipe in my family—well
among the adults. The little one thinks it’s “gross”—too much
alcohol! That’s fine—more for the rest of us. With sugar and molasses and
rum, it always brings Sid to mind.
Jamaican black cake
Adapted from the Naparima Girls’ High School Cookbook,
Trinidad
Time: 4 hours, plus between 7 days and 12 months of
soaking the fruits—the longer the better
Yield: 3 or 4 cakes, about 4 dozen servings.
Excellent cut in thick slices as holiday gifts (each serving is wonderful and
very rich).
1 pound pitted prunes (prunes with
orange, cherry, or lemon essence are fine if desired)
1 pound dark raisins
1/2 pound golden raisins
1 pound dried currants
1 1/2 pounds dried cherries (not
candied)
1/4 pound candied citrus peels
2 cups dark rum; more for brushing
cakes (up to 2 more cups)
1 1/2 cups kirsch brandy; plus a
little more for grinding fruit
1/4 pound blanched almonds
1/4 cup dark molasses
4 sticks (1 pound) salted butter;
more for buttering pans
1 pound (about 2 1/2 cups) dark brown
sugar
10 eggs
zest of 2 limes
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon Angostura bitters
(optional)
4 cups (1 pound) all-purpose white
flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1. At least 7 days before baking, and up to 12 months in
advance, combine prunes, raisins, currants, cherries, candied citrus peels,
rum, and brandy in a sturdy glass or plastic container. Cover very
tightly. Occasionally shake, stir, or turn the container upside down and
then right-side up again.
2. When ready to bake, put soaked fruit and almonds in a
food processor; work in small batches that the machine can handle. Grind to
a rough paste. Add a little brandy if needed to loosen the mixture in the
machine.
3. Heat oven to 250 degrees F. Butter
three 9-inch or four 8-inch cake pans; line bottoms with a double layer of
parchment or wax paper.
4. Using a mixer and a very large bowl, cream butter
and brown sugar until smooth and fluffy. Mix in eggs one at a time, then lime
zest, vanilla, and bitters (if desired).
5. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder
and cinnamon.
6. Fold dry ingredients into butter mixture.
7. Stir in fruit paste and molasses. Batter
should be medium-dark; if too light, add a tablespoon or two more of molasses
if desired.
8. Divide among prepared pans. Cakes will not
rise much, so fill pans almost to top.
9. Bake 1 hour; then reduce heat to 225 degrees.
Bake 2-3 hours longer, until a knife or tooth pick inserted in center comes out
clean. Remove to cooling racks.
10. While cakes are hot, brush tops with rum and let
soak in. Repeat several times while cakes gradually cool; they will each
absorb up to 1/2 cup more rum.
11. When cakes are completely
cool, they can be turned out and served. To keep longer, wrap tightly in
wax or parchment paper, then in foil. Store in a cool, dry place for up
to 1 month.
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Sid and Jackie about
to enjoy a fine meal at a food conference in Chengdu, China.
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Here is Sid
enjoying the company of our Taiwanese tour guides at the Chengdu conference.
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