Holiday meals in jail? Prison food: the good, the bad and the glorified

As with so many issues in our system, it’s our most vulnerable who bear the greatest burdens—reminding us that how we treat those with the least reveals the true measure of our society. (Photo from Shutterstock)
The holidays are a time for reflection: what we have, what we’ve lost, and what we hope to find. For people who’ve lost their freedom, that contemplation and those memories likely hit hard. Incarcerated or free, it’s still the holidays.
In the spirit of the season, A&E recently published an article discussing how incarcerated people spend the holidays headlined “What Thanksgiving Looks Like Behind Bars.”
The piece is interesting and insightful. One retired corrections officer noted, “There’s a somber mood. It’s just quiet. Almost eerie.” Which would make sense. The holidays are a time for reflection: what we have, what we’ve lost, and what we hope to find. For people who’ve lost their freedom, that contemplation and those memories likely hit hard.
An inmate’s holiday menu
Food has a strong influence on those memories. Science tells us that the olfactory bulb, which processes smells, has a direct link to humans’ amygdala and hippocampus (the brain’s emotional and memory centers). Consequently, a prison’s holiday-themed meal is one of the most biologically tethered connections an incarcerated person can get to celebrating Christmas or Thanksgiving.
It’s emotional. As such, the gesture might stir up feelings many don’t care to remember; it might rub some inmates the wrong way.
Henry Dillard, who was incarcerated from 1995 to 2000, explained another side of that coin. As he relayed in that A&E article, prison holiday meals felt “like a slap in the face” due to prison food’s unappetizing nature. “You get this plastic tray with a scoop of dressing, a slice of manufactured turkey, some gravy, something fruit-adjacent and a couple of slices of bread.”
He seemed to prefer the “normal stuff.”
Nevertheless, that’s still only one inmate’s subjective perspective. After all, prison food depends on the prison. While federal prisons have a more standardized menu regulated by the federal Bureau of Prisons, the schedule, quality and taste will vary based on the budget and kitchen.
As far as state prisons? It’s a toss-up, especially considering whether the prison is privately or publicly operated.
YouTube’s prison food universe
But the difference in caged cuisine isn’t limited to whether the menu is sponsored by the state or federal government. Menus will also vary from state to state and sometimes from county to county.
As such, it would be nearly impossible to tie down what is served and when it’s available at these locations. One thing that is consistent, though? The ability of inmates to cook in their jail cells. The practice is pretty prevalent. There are even some inventive YouTube content creators who offer a firsthand insider’s look into prison “recipes.”
Daniel Phaithaisong, who goes by the YouTube username Dpeezy2099, has gained over 2 million subscribers and millions of views for his prison recipe videos. After at least three different stints of incarceration, Phaithaisong professes to have turned over a new leaf. Regardless, much of his content still provides an interesting look into a culinary skill most would never know.
His videos are recorded in a setting that gives off a jail-cell vibe. The setup is almost always the same. Phaithaisong usually begins by corresponding with his “bunkie” regarding which recipe to make. From there, the ingredients (common items readily available from a prison commissary) are thrown into frame, and the audience receives a point-of-view account as the dish is “cooked” and finalized.
Given the sheer number of videos and recipes, it seems that incarcerated individuals might even prefer their own concoctions to the formal offerings.
Dillard echoed this in the A&E column, noting that he and other inmates preferred to create their own “holiday” meals to celebrate and “break bread with [their] people.” They would get a friend in the kitchen to supply an onion or a bell pepper, which would be microwaved along with some chopped up sausage, packages of Ramen noodles, refried beans, rice and cheese from the commissary. They’d then layer the concoction into a casserole served on a garbage bag for easy cleanup.
Dillard’s recipe seems a little reminiscent of Phaithaisong’s video showing a jailhouse “spread.”
The YouTube prison space isn’t restricted to U.S.-based cuisine. Another content creator, Jake Horwoods (known by his username “Big Nibbles”), has a series of YouTube videos in which he describes, creates and rates prison menus from around the world. I think it’s fascinating. Way to go, Norway, by the way.
The videos are fun and informative, and they give quite a bit of context regarding prison food quality and how much it can vary. It seems that no matter how unappetizing a tray of prison food may seem, there’s always something worse.
Not all prison food is created equally
Ultimately, budget is everything. Budget determines the menu, the ingredients and, importantly, the individuals supervising and training the incarcerated “chefs.” After all, at least in the United States penal system, prisoners do most of the food preparation and cooking.
The degree to which inmates have autonomy in the kitchen varies, often depending on the facility’s security level. Moreover, it can vary based on outside oversight. Prisons and jails evaluated by groups such as the American Correctional Association maintain higher standards, which arguably yield a better product. Case in point: Facilities accredited by the ACA use menus reviewed by a licensed dietitian.
However, not every jail or prison employs that type of care.
Take my home state, for example. Not every Oklahoma prison and jail is ACA-accredited. The system is very far from perfect. We don’t live in some quasi-utopia where every “correctional” facility is held to rigid requirements from a third-party accreditation association.
In fact, some facilities seem like they couldn’t care less.
In my research, I came across a 2020 story detailing the extent of Oklahoma’s indifference. According to the Frontier, at the time of their story, Oklahoma spent less than $1 per meal on its inmates’ food. Specifically, the Oklahoma Department of Corrections spent “75 to 85 cents per meal.” And while a department spokesperson stated the menus were “approved by a dietitian,” more recent developments might call that into question.
In July 2025, Oklahoma was forced to end its contract with a private food service because the vendor failed to meet nutrition standards. After review, it was discovered their products were too low in protein and too high in fat and sodium.
Just as with many other issues in the penal system, contracts often go to the lowest bidder; and just as we see in grocery stores on the outside, the least-expensive food is usually the least nutritious.
And as with so many issues in our system, it’s our most vulnerable who bear the greatest burdens—reminding us that how we treat those with the least reveals the true measure of our society.
Adam Banner
Adam R. Banner is the founder and lead attorney of the Oklahoma Legal Group, a criminal defense law firm in Oklahoma City. His practice focuses solely on state and federal criminal defense. He represents the accused against allegations of sex crimes, violent crimes, drug crimes and white-collar crimes.
The study of law isn’t for everyone, yet its practice and procedure seem to permeate pop culture at an increasing rate. This column is about the intersection of law and pop culture in an attempt to separate the real from the ridiculous.
This column reflects the opinions of the author and not necessarily the views of the ABA Journal—or the American Bar Association.


