Transcript for the Piece Audio version of The Tomato and The Big Apple
THE TOMATO AND THE BIG APPLE
(In the New York subway)
Intercom subway: ‘Stand clear of the closing doors please’
(Ding dong. Ding dong.)
Narrator: I’m underground… in New York… on the subway. With a question I can’t get out of my head.
Millions of people are swarming around me. All those people eat and drink; all those people...
(Sound of toilet flushing)
Narrator: Where do you leave all that? I’ve asked everyone. They flush the toilet at least twice a day, but have no clue what happens to it afterwards.
Old man singing: ‘We walk hand in hand the world becomes a wonderland. It’s magic.‘
(Harmonica)
Narrator: I’ve gotten off in Harlem. Somewhere up here should be the sewage plant. That’s what a cab driver told me.
(Walking upstairs. Outside. Dog barking. Traffic. Footsteps.)
Child: Mommie!
Narrator: I’m walking up a hill... There’s a park...
(Children playing. Women squabbling over the line for the swing.)
Narrator: What a great view across the water you have from up here...
(Boys playing basketball)
Narrator: I see a large sports center, playing fields… But not a sewageplant in sight anywhere.
(Bar. Trombone. Talking. Glasses.)
Narrator: In a dark pub with a gin tonic. Another day wasted. That man’s pulling up his barstool. I’ll ask him my question. That will quickly put an end to our conversation.
‘Oh, they turn it into manure,’ he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. ‘They sell it to farmers.’
What?
‘Biosolids, it’s called.’ (End of trombone)
(Typing)
Narrator: At home, on my computer, I type in ‘biosolids’ on Google. Yes indeed, it’s true! Tomatoes especially thrive on human manure. I go through New York’s Yellow Pages... Fruit and vegetables... My eye falls on a portrait of a woman with a big smile who is holding a basket full of tomatoes. Lucky’s Tomatoes.
(Telephone rings)
Lucky: ‘Hello tomato lovers, thank you for calling the office of Lucky’s Real Tomatoes, here is what we have for tomorrow. Red and yellow Beefsteaks, red grapes, red plums, and red and yellow cooking and chopping tomatoes. If you like to leave a message for a member of the staff or order please do so at the tone. Thanks for calling Lucky’s for our tomatoes are always gone with pride in New York City.
(Beep)
(In the car)
Narrator: I’m in the car next to Al, Lucky’s brother, and we’re driving across a tomato plantation in Ruskin, Florida.
Lucky was very helpful, and immediately brought Al in. He’s the one who does the buying.
According to Al, there are no better-tasting tomatoes in the world than the ones I’ll be getting to see in a moment.
(Car stops. Getting out.)
Narrator: Behind us is a road where one truck after the other is racing by with stacks of boxes full of tomatoes. Every tomato is destined to be eaten by someone somewhere in the United States. While a horde of Mexican tomato pickers is advancing across the field, Al tells me the story of Lucky’s tomatoes. It all began twenty years ago:
Al: The modern family.
Narrator: Al, his parents and three brothers used to live in Boston, a small town not far from New York. His parents did a lot of work for the municipality, any number of things. One day the municipality asked them if they could take in some foster children.
Al: Very hardship case foster children.
(Trombone)
Narrator: And of course they said yes. Those children needed help, why not. So Al and his brothers got four more brothers and sisters, and Lucky was one of them. The whole family moved to Florida.
One day Father read an ad in the local paper: picking oranges. He sent out his children. They picked more than they could eat and got to know the farmer. The farmer also grew tomatoes. He told them to come back in the tomato season. (End of trombone)
Al: So we did. And out of that we started the business.
Narrator: One day Mother got a job transfer to New York. The children wanted to visit her but it was too expensive. Father said they should take tomatoes along and sell them in the city. They loaded up a bus. (Effect trombone)
In New York they went by the restaurants with boxes of tomatoes on their shoulders. They were chased out of most of the restaurants. The chefs said, oh, those tomatoes are too ripe. (Effect trombone) Lucky came up with the idea to take a salt shaker and knife along and put pressure on the chefs to give the tomatoes a try.
Al: ‘Taste this tomato, tell me this tomato is better than what you are using’.
Narrator: And they always said, yes, you’re right. Lucky had come to New York with enough clothes for a week and stayed two years. Al went back to Florida to pick the tomatoes, another sister came to New York to help Lucky box the tomatoes and Father and another sister drove the tomatoes from Florida to New York.
Al: And to think, here are all these little tomatoes that go all the way to NY and become stars in places like restaurant Daniel and... it’s a great thing that we are doing, a great thing that we are doing.
Narrator: What makes these tomatoes special is that they get picked when they’re ripe. Most of the tomatoes in stores and restaurants get picked mechanically while they’re still green and are then gassed with ethylene to make them red.
Al: And that’s why they sound like that (knocks on something hard) when you bang them on a table, and when you bite into them they crunch like an apple.
Narrator: Lucky’s tomatoes only get picked when they’re really ripe, and by hand.
Al: You take a bite of it and it tastes like summertime, doesn’t matter what time of the year it is. So as far as what we are doing now, I’m the luckiest man in the United States. I am all day on the farms, with great people you know, hard workers and everybody appreciates what everybody else does in the industry.
Narrator: The farmers know that they can’t both grow and sell. They need others to bring the tomatoes onto the market.
Al: But the biggest winners in the whole chain of everything are the consumers that sit down in a nice restaurant and marvel about how wonderful the tomato tastes on the salad.
(Telephone rings)
Lucky: Hello
Al: Hi Lucky, how are you doing?
Lucky: I’m fine, how are you doing?
Al: Oh, we are out here in the field looking at these beautiful plum tomatoes that are being picked and that are gonna be on their way to you in a couple of hours. They are all ready for NY.
Lucky: That’s great.
Al: We got plum tomatoes, grape tomatoes, Roma tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, all on this load.
Lucky: great.
Al: How is the weather in NY?
Lucky: Well, it’s still nice.
Al: All right.
Lucky: Thanks Al, thanks for the call.
Al: Thanks Luck, yeah, bye bye.
Lucky: Bye
(Tomatoes drop into a bucket, Mexican pickers)
Narrator: I’m in the field, looking for a tomato. Not too big, because then it’ll be too watery on the inside. But nice and red and undamaged. My eye falls on a beautiful shiny red tomato basking in the sun and I mark it with a white sticker.
(On the plane)
Stewardess: Hi ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board on Delta flight 2404 to New York JFK airport. If you need any assistance, please notify a flight attendant.
(Muzak)
Narrator: I can still see the broad smile on Al’s face. With his sunglasses and Bermudas
he perfectly matches the image I have of people in Florida. Cheerful, relaxed, no problems.
My tomato left before me, yesterday with the truck. I’ll see it early tomorrow morning, at the Manhattan Fruit Exchange. They’ve ordered five boxes of Lucky’s Tomatoes.
Stewardess: Again welcome on board. ABC is on the right, DEF is on the left.
New Yorker: To make it in New York you have to be the best. A milk delivery is more sophisticated than a bank hoist or a bank robbery somewhere in the Midwest. You watch a milk delivery. It’s so sophisticated. You have to be quick, you have to be fast. If you have that ability and you have drive, you can make it in New York. It’s the greatest place. It really is. I love New York.
(Beginning soundscape 1)
Narrator: There’s no other city in the United States that still attracts as many immigrants as New York. Just in the last ten years, another 1.2 million immigrants came to the city to build up a new existence. (End of soundscape 1)
(Warehouse wholesaler)
Delio: I said come back right away.
Employee 1: What about the truck. What about the truck. It was on the East Side.
Employee 2: Carlos, back in back in.
Narrator: The Manhattan Fruit Exchange is the fruit and vegetable business of Delio and his brothers.
Delio: Tell Oyster Bar, tell them it’s on the way.
Narrator: In the warehouse I mainly see Latinos and Afro-Americans.
Intercom: Delio, you have Carlos the driver on 800.
Delio: You guys screwed up over there.
Intercom: Delio, Carlos 800.
Narrator: There’s a clear division of labor. The Latino men load the trucks, while the Afro-American men, the drivers, stand by and watch until the trucks are loaded up.
(Whistling)
Woman: Good morning.
Delio: Buenos dias.
Narrator: The women mix salads on long tables. They’re all beautiful, with shiny long black hair.
Intercom: Delio you have Eugene on line three.
Delio: Let me see the drivers route sheet... What phone is ringing. Where is Jerry. I have to tell him once and for all.
Narrator: I got up at four this morning, scared that I’d miss my tomato.
Delio: Did we find out where Mike is?
Jerry: No.
Delio: Anybody called Popin Maridian find out where Mike is?
Woman: Yeah he said he went to La Guenda already.
Narrator: Meanwhile it’s already seven, and the driver of the truck on which my tomato is waiting to be delivered has still not come back from his early round.
Delio: Where is Haimy. Haimy office. Haimy office. Haimy office. If anybody touches those strawberries I’ll break their fingers. Haimy.
Narrator: It all began thirty years ago. Delio was working for a deli on Manhattan’s east side.
Delio: We had fancy customers. Patrick Swayze, Oppenheimer, owner of the stock company.
Narrator: The guy that delivered the produce every morning mostly brought garbage. One day Delio’s boss told him: go to the Bronx Market yourself to pick out the produce.
Delio: I used to cry all the time, and send stuff back. Garbage.
Narrator: The next morning Delio got up at three and bought the best of everything. Within a week, the store went from selling 15 crates of produce a day to selling well over a 100 crates. That was in 1975. The next year, a large restaurant opened up next door. The owner knew that Delio went to the market himself and asked him to do his buying as well. And then Delio’s boss suggested to start a company together.
Delio: A business.
Narrator: Delio went to the market every evening at eight and stayed there all night to pick out the best produce. Then he’d quickly get a cup of coffee and in the early morning he’d start making his deliveries in a ramshackle van.
Delio: I used to work 24 ours a day. It was too much.
Narrator: After a year his former boss switched to the computer business. Delio hired his brother-in-law and bought a second van, so that they could make twice as many deliveries. Subsequently one brother joined the business, and then his other brother did too.
Delio: And here we are. 27 years later 15 trucks and a lot of work.
Narrator: Working at night is particularly heavy and Delio’s been doing it for thirty years.
Delio: It’s a lot of work, a lot of work. It’s a lot of work, I don’t care what anybody says.
(Employee asks something)
Delio: They are okay.
(Trombone)
Narrator: He’s trying to work a bit less now. From nine in the evening to nine in the morning, though he usually doesn’t finish till noon. Delio’s wife isn’t happy with his work.
Delio: She is not too happy. But you know. The money is good and we go along, you know. You overlook, when you make money you overlook the bad you know, which is not right.
Narrator: He has three young children.
Delio: Three girls and they want daddy home. But this is the finest tomato. I don’t care what anybody says. Unbelievable flavor. Anyway. (End of trombone)
Narrator: The driver comes in. I’d expected an Afro-American, like the other drivers, but this one’s white.
Delio: Five hours, three deliveries. Should have got killed on the way. Finished?
(Beginning soundscape 2)
Narrator: Just to supply the more than twelve thousand restaurants in New York on one day, well over two thousand trucks bring at least four million pounds of food into the city. (End of soundscape 2)
(In the truck, radio on)
Mike: And if I hit your car? You stupid bitch? These people don’t realize it. When you hit the car it’s a problem? What happened? What did you do it for? They don’t think.
You know people, they come to NY they try to get an attitude, they come to New York with an attitude. It’s not good. It’s not good. It’s not good.
Narrator: I’m in the truck next to Mike and my tomato is in a crate in the back. It’s destined for Italian restaurant Piccolo Angelo. Sitting with Mike in his truck scares me to death.
Mike: You read in the paper that someone gets shot, gets dead, gets killed, gets beaten up. You know why? They ask for it.
Narrator: He’s never had a problem. Never gotten into a street fight.
Mike: I never got into a fight on the street in my life. I swear to God. You know why? You ask for a fight, you get a fight. You give an attitude to a person, you know, that’s it.
Narrator: 29 years old and never been involved in a street fight. Whenever he does fight, he fights professionally.
Mike: I go fight in the ring. I’m a professional boxer. Yeah.
Narrator: He had a match last night. No problem. After eight rounds he won the fight. His opponent, 38 years old, had been released from prison only seven months ago and had about thirty professional fights to his name.
Mike: Big guy, 6.4, 6.3, 6.4, 238 pounds and I beat him like I said by decision. I got no cuts, no bruises on me, I just fought a good fight.
Narrator: Mike earned five thousand dollars with his victory. He doesn’t spend the money, it goes directly to a safe-deposit box in the bank.
Mike: Now today I make the deliveries. I got about 15 stops, 15 restaurants. Just deliver the fruit and vegetables today, that’s it.
(Honking)
Mike: Today it’s not that bad today.
(Honking)
Narrator: Mike has been in prison often. For stupid things.
Mike: Yeah. You know, sometimes you do good things, sometimes you do bad things.
Narrator: He has to appear in court again soon.
Mike: Now I got to make a delivery. Show you how I make a delivery now.
This is ehm, Jerry’s restaurant. (Radio off)
(Mike gets out. Siren. Traffic. Drum sound. Unloading.)
Man on the street: Help make a difference, help feed the homeless.
Narrator: While he’s unloading, Mike has to be careful not to strain his back. It’s very different from lifting weights or exercising at the gym.
Mike: It’s not good, it sucks.
Man on the street: Remember the homeless in New York City.
(In the truck, radio on)
Mike: For what reason, for what purpose?
Narrator: Mike is worked up, a man just complained that Mike was parked on the sidewalk.
Mike: It don’t make sense, people are stupid I tell you.
Narrator: People call you names and before you know it, you’re hitting them. That’s how you get into trouble. It’s also how the trouble started for which Mike has to appear in court this time. (Radio off)
Mike: I’ll tell you what happened, You wanna know? Alright. Like I told you before, I do not get into fights, I don’t want no fights, I don’t look at this as a fight. Let me tell you what happened.
Narrator: Mike came back from Gleasons, the boxing club, (Honking) it was four in the afternoon. He was tired, he’d just been training. He was biking home, parts of his body were hurting. He was going up Sixth Avenue when a man suddenly cut him off to double-park. Mike went around the car and made an irritated face at the driver. The man gave him the finger. ‘Why are you giving me the finger? I didn’t do anything to you.’ Mike swore at him. He had to stop because the light turned red, and cars were coming. He looked back and saw the man getting out and coming towards him.
Mike: I said why is this guy walking towards me for?
Narrator: Mike had a chain lock hanging from his handlebars, took it, swung it and hit the man on his head. He went down. And behind the double-parked car, guess what was behind it? A police car. Guess who went to prison? Mike. And he told the officers, you saw the guy getting out and coming towards me, why didn’t you stop him? They said, you hit him with something. So Mike was locked up. He was in jail for a day and a half. The judge had him pay 2000 dollars to get out on bail.
Mike: Hey this asshole f... takes my spot here. It is a pain in the ass. What are you gonna do? (Honking). This scumbag! F... balls! (Honking). They don’t care. Come on, dick.
Narrator: I wonder what’s left of my tomato in the back.
Mike: Let me tell you something, a single guy like me living in New York. I get all the women all the time. I’m serious. You get the best looking girls in New York. You know and it’s true. Only because you know why? Not because of you but because you live in Manhattan. I’m telling you. Come on bitch! Stop the f... sightseeing in my time.
(Music on the radio)
Mike: I’ve always loved music. Singing, everything.
(Mike sings along with ‘How You Remind Me’ by Nickelback)
Mike: It’s not like you didn’t know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
And it must have been so bad
‘Cos living with him must have damn killed you
And this is how you remind me of what I really am
This is how you remind me of what I really am
It’s not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I’m mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breaking
And I’ve been wrong, I’ve been down
Into the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head
Scream
Are we having fun yet, yet, yet, yet, no no
yet, yet, yet, yet, no no
yet, yet, yet, yet, no no
(Music stops)
Mike: Come on I’ll show you.
(Truck stops)
Narrator: We’ve finally reached my tomato’s destination. Restaurant Piccolo Angelo.
(Tailgate rolls open)
Mike: Here take this for later, you get hungry. Here is a banana, here is a clementine.
Mike: Italian restaurant. Very busy place. You know why? Good price. That’s why. Not that expensive. Okay, come on, let me show you.
Narrator: The boss, Renato, isn’t in. He’ll be here this afternoon, so I should come back later.
(Beginning soundscape 3)
Narrator: 5% of the Caucasians fit for work are unemployed, 8% of the Latin-Americans fit for work are unemployed, 11% of the Afro-Americans fit for work are unemployed. (End of soundscape 3)
(In the – still closed – restaurant. The phone rings)
Renato: Piccolo Angelo, hello. Piccolo Angelo. Tonight I only have 10 o’clock. nothing else, nothing before. You call me later. Maybe someone cancels. Probably. I’m not sure. You call me later, after four. Thank you bye bye.
Narrator: Restaurant Piccolo Angelo is owned by Renato and his brother. Renato doesn’t have much time, he has to prepare for tonight. It’s going to be busy again. But he’s willing to read out the tomato dishes on the menu for me.
Renato: We think tomato is the base for the restaurant. And the people they love tomato and they are very healthy. We use it for to make four different kind of sauce. Pomodoro, Marinara, Arrabiata, Amatriciana, and Porcino Mushrooms, that is five sauces. And then, Tomato Mozarella, Tomato Gorgonzola...
Narrator: There are tomatoes in every dish. You can’t start a restaurant without them, says Renato. I point out my tomato in the box and he takes it out.
Renato: Yeah, you handle a tomato as you handle a nice girl. With love, with passion, everything nice.
Narrator: I’d been thinking of a tomato as male, but in Renato’s hands it turns into a nice girl.
Renato: It’s not the tomato only, it’s the people who handle a tomato. The same people have a nice girl and they love her. They must know how to love a nice girl and tomato the same thing. If you know how to handle a tomato it is a very beautiful goddess. And I think it’s the number one vegetable or fruit, whatever you call.
Narrator: She’s a goddess, even. I ask Renato where he gets these romantic notions. They come from Italy, where he grew up. He and his brother emigrated to New York as boys, looking for adventure. They both worked in restaurant kitchens until they had saved up enough money to start out for themselves. According to Renato it’s at the same time very difficult and very easy to survive in New York.
Renato: First of all to survive NY you must have guts. You know the money fly like a leaf, they fly away.
Narrator: If you want to be something in America, you must be independent.
Renato: But New York is a city with a lot of opportunity. It all depend on your spirit, your brain and your heart. You have to come to this country with the intention to get better then you was in your country. Everything we are very successful and we thank to America, to New York and to myself.
(Phone rings)
Narrator: I’ll have to come back tonight to taste the sauce, he has to get back to work. Prepping. He has taken a large knife and is cutting my tomato into pieces.
(Beginning soundscape 4)
Narrator: Every day in New York, at least eight thousand tons of food pass through eight million gullets. Fully extended, the small and large intestine have a length of about twenty-five feet. That’s a combined length of almost forty thousand miles. That’s more than five times to and fro between New York and Amsterdam. (End of soundscape 4)
(Interior public bathroom, Muzak, toilets being flushed, end of Muzak,
sound of water through a pipe, children playing in a park)
Narrator: I’m going back to Harlem, to the plant. This time I have an appointment. I’ve been instructed to report to the sports center in the park.
(Jingle of keys)
Narrator: A woman takes me back across the field to a door with iron bars, concealed among tall bushes. She opens the door with a key and lets me in, closing the door behind me.
(Door falls shut and gets locked)
Narrator: I’m still outside, on top of a concrete staircase. I’m not so sure anymore that I want to visit the plant.
(Footsteps down the stairs)
Narrator: The idea suddenly repels me. But the door has been locked behind me. Down the stairs an Afro-American man in overalls is waving at me.
(Footsteps down a hallway. Sound of a machine)
Narrator: He takes me along, through the offices and the control room, and explains how the machines work on methane, the gas that gets released by the fermentation of the excrement.
(Iron door slides open, factory hall)
Narrator: He shows me into a large industrial hall where on one side large arched windows offer a view of the river. I can take a look around on my own. He walks on and I see him picking up a large pole with a container attached on the other end. I look around and take it all in. Nothing reminds me of the city anymore. Everywhere around me are basins as large as swimming pools. In the distance I see the man stick the pole deep into one of the basins and take it out again. Somewhere here floats what once used to be my tomato. Once taken up by this mass, it has nothing to do with being or not being disgusting anymore. I feel part of a larger whole, of nature, a link in a cycle. Because I eat, the tomatoes grow.
(Phone rings)
Lucky: ‘Hello tomato lovers, thank you for calling the office of Lucky’s Real Tomatoes, here is what we have for tomorrow. Red and yellow Beefsteaks, red grapes, red plums, and red and yellow cooking and chopping tomatoes. If you like to leave a message for a member of the staff or order please do so at the tone. Thanks for calling Lucky’s for our tomatoes are always gone with pride in New York City.
(Beep)
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