Incarcerated

Before Oakland's JD the Sandman started slinging sandwiches on Instagram, he honed his passion for cooking in federal prison.

“I want to express what I want in the kitchen,” says Davis. Inspired by their suggestions and the success of other homegrown, independent food entrepreneurs in the Bay Area, Davis rolled up his sleeves and began to mess around more seriously with his side hustle. A play on McDonald’s famously elusive McRib, Davis added his own touches by roasting “real meat” and incorporating better ingredients to deliver what would become a banger for his growing base of returning customers. In the past six months, he has been hired to privately cater multiple events, including weddings and large birthday parties of more than 60 people. Despite a largely solitary prison experience, Davis discovered that food was a way for him to connect with others and represent his heritage. A lot of people do things inside to get by, but then go out and do what they need to go paycheck to paycheck. In Davis’s telling of it, the incident had to do with race—he was pushing back in defense of Black students. “I was a halfway criminal and didn’t cross my t’s or dot my i’s,” he says. “I get to create things and I get to share that with my friends and family. But he’s known for his sandwiches—chopped cheese like you’d find in a Harlem bodega and whimsical creations like the “MacArthur Rib,” a play on the McDonald’s classic. Davis was no different in the way he saw prison as something intangible in his own day-to-day life. That’s because working in construction provides the backbone of income that allows Davis to do what he actually loves the most: cooking for others.