Becomming Puerto Rican, Annie, Serrano Ham, Chicken Fricassee and Nicknames

The Nicetown neighborhood had no other Hispanics so it never dawned on me that I was of Puerto Rican heritage, because it really didn’t matter. All I wanted to do was play with my friends. I knew that when my uncles would come over for the weekends and play instruments that this was a Puerto Rican thing. I just didn't know that I was part of it.

My friends and I would go to Germantown Avenue to buy Earth Wind and Fire and The Commodores singles from the record store. We would hide in parent's basements and listen to Richard Pryor and Red Fox records, snickering at all of the curse words. I joke about it now, saying that I grew up Black. I watched Soul Train because American Bandstand was too bland. I went to the GQ shop on Germantown Ave to get stylish clothes. There was also on our block, the Reverend's family that sold fish and chicken dinners to raise funds for his church.  I would get the fish and grits.Truly, most of my socialization was with African American culture. The socialization process has been a such a part of me that to this day I am really comfortable with African Americans.

Even when I would go to Puerto Rico for the summer I always came back to North Philly. To this day being fair skinned usually gives others a perceived freedom to say what they think about people of color. Most people assume that I am full Italian, so their assumptions give them these freedoms.

I have been in situations that people talk around me about Hispanics and African Americans in derogatory terms and it always made me uncomfortable. Sometimes I would take offense and other times would keep quiet. African Americans always made me feel accepted, more than any other group. There were times that I was uncomfortable being around Philly Puerto Ricans because they didn't have the same experiences that I did.

There was the one summer when I was about ten that I went to Puerto Rico and stayed with my eldest sister Anne, She was born in New York and ended up in Puerto Rico, She has a very tan completion and lived a socialite's life. Her husband, Fernando, was a Spaniard who left the Catholic Seminary to marry my sister. She stole her husband from a life in the priesthood. He had several businesses. He imported products from Spain and other countries. He had a Garage and Tire Shop in Caguas Puerto Rico.  The Shop was above an egg hatchery where every morning I would be greeted by dozens of chirping chicks. My sister was and is beautiful, smart, and tall for a Puerto Rican women, about 5'9. She is considered the family matriarch. What she says goes, even to this day. Fernando was slightly shorter. He was bilingual speaking both Castilian Spanish with the lisp and English. My sister had two daughters. I was an uncle when I was just a year old. My sister would do something that I have never seen in other families. Whatever my sister was doing during the day didn't matter, about 4:00 every afternoon she would drop whatever she was doing and go to her room and get made up. She would put on makeup (and in the 60's and 70s it was no small thing). She put on a girdle, false eyelashes, make up, hairspray and a fresh  dress or an outfit. She would be ready before her husband came in the house. I believe that is something that he appreciated. She would serve him dinner (me and my nieces had already eaten by then), and they would have conversations over dinner and later he would watch the horse races. He was also a owner of a Thoroughbred. Later on Fernando would offer me some Iberico or Serrano ham. The Ham had its own stand or rack and he would cut thin slices and offer me some. It was a thinly slice of salty pork that would just melt in your mouth. The ham was totally cured so it could sit out at room temperature. Later when I went to Spain I saw for myself the fascination for the black footed iberico ham raised and fed acorns.

File Copy: Isla Verde Beach

File Copy : El Yunque Rain For

My sister and her husband had two condominiums, one in Luquillo and the other in Isla Verde near the International airport. Both condos overlooked the beautiful beaches. Since my brother-in -law was so successful; my sister had plenty of time to be a socialite. She met with social clubs, taught exercise classes before they called them aerobics and always had time to serve as tour guide to my mom and me. We saw many of the tourist sites from the EL Yunque rain Forest to the Castillo.

Most children that go to Puerto Rico do not have a good experience, greatly due to family members that don't have time to show young people around. These children stay in their relatives houses dying of boredom then when asked about Puerto Rico, they usually say that there was nothing there.

I came back that summer talking Spanish and with a great tan. I once was scolded by an older man for throwing a chewing gum wrapper on the ground. He shocked me into picking it up by saying Look ! in Spanish and “Pick it up!” It startled me into realizing that what I had been doing in North Philly was not to be done in Puerto Rico.

It wore off eventually and I got back to being from Nicetown eventually loosing my Spanish. But in the back on my head I always though that I was special because I would spend summers in such a beautiful place . Some of my neighbors didn’t go anywhere. There were other times that I stayed home for the summers. I never threw a piece f trash on the ground again.

Playing in the street didn’t take much. We all had great imagination. Chuck, Vincent, Maryann, Bryant, and Kim were all friends that lived on the block. Vincent was African American but was an albino. Somewhere he got the nickname, Cheesy, because he was like the color of white cheese. I never knew if he liked his nickname, but as in Puerto Rican children you don’t have a choice. At least it wasn’t as harsh as some Puerto Rican nicknames like sin zapato( without shoes) or Coco Duro, as in coconut head ( meaning that your thick sculled or hard headed). I always wanted a nickname but never got one. That is probably I am always nicknaming others.

When My father wasn't working, he would be fixing something electronic or cooking. I watched him cook because that was the only thing that I was really interested in ... Eating. 

He took me to the garage once to see if I would follow in his footsteps. I must have been a little disappointing because I didn't have the Grease-monkey gene. I would help my father by bringing him tools and then I would disappear. My father would scream out, "Where are you!?" and I would say  I'm in the bathroom washing my hands. That's when both me and my father knew that this wasn't for me. My father knew that I liked his other passion, cooking. He would call me into the kitchen to help cook, by peeling  potatoes or adding some ingredient to a stew.

My father would sometimes make a his Chicken Fricassee, which is another, break the rules, family recipe just like the Spaghetti with Garlic.

He would cut up chicken or sometimes goat pieces and fricassee, or slowly braise them, in Welch's Grape Juice instead of wine( the rule breaker). He would of course add the usually Puerto Rican Sofrito (See Daisy Martinez's Recipe for Sofrito, its close to mine). He would add raisins, a bay leaf, some cut up potatoes and braise the poultry or meat  in the juice until it was tender and serve it over white rice. If you want the quantity of ingredients just let me know.

I didn't know it then, but those summers gave me the back-story of my life, surrounding me with memories like a warm blanket in. I love Puerto Rico and go there every chance I get. I love taking groups of friends to the island as well. I give them the tours like my sister used to. It later inspired me to find out why my family left such a beautiful place, but I will save that story for another time .

File Copy : Serrano Ham

File Copy: El Moro, Old San Juan Puerto Rico