Adventures at the Hi-Ho Market

My father is a very interesting man, filled with plenty of stories for anyone who has the patience and time to hear them. Since I have been his daughter for the past 27 years of my life, I know all these stories, ranging from my father’s days in theater to his experiences in the entertainment industry.

He may not like me for saying this, but some of the stories I remember most are those from a place known as the Hi-Ho Market.

My grandfather Saul owned this market, which was located in Inglewood, California. He wanted to be a doctor, but coming from a poor immigrant’s family, there was only enough money to send one of the children to medical school. So instead, Saul opened a business. The entire family, ranging from his cousins to his own sons, worked at the market.

My father would go down with his father to downtown Los Angeles to pick up the produce. Every day, off of Alameda Street, shipments of produce from all across the country – hell, all around the world – would meet there for the local grocers to come and pick them up to bring to their markets.

I have learned never to take the market for granted partially because of my father (a field trip to the grocery store in elementary school didn't hurt, either). There are actual people working their tails off to get you your food. My dad, his father and the whole family worked crazy hours in order to get their business going. It’s amazing to me what small business owners do to keep things going. Their livelihood hangs on threads, and you do everything to keep things afloat. It was possibly this that made me become a business writer when I was working – somehow, I understood the struggle.

But just because they had a business didn’t mean that they didn’t know how to have a good time. My dad would make a habit of stealing celery from the back (as a matter of fact, many of my father’s favorite foods stem from working at the market) and throwing barbecues, allowing the scent to waft into the store. He claimed that it would make people buy more food.

Sometimes, I think of my father and his father travelling through the docks, particularly when I rush through downtown on my way home from somewhere. The truth is I appreciate what they did for people in their community by providing something as simple as groceries during difficult times, even during World War II when food was being rationed. I don’t think many people understand that people working jobs that seem so trivial are really more important than they think. We take them for granted. But they really do matter.

So the next time you go into a market, take a look at the workers, and really appreciate them, whether they’re unloading the veggies or stocking the shelves. They are truly special.

So in honor of them, I bring you a very special recipe. Among our family, Nony’s tuna salad is the stuff of legends. My dad happens to have a particular affinity towards it, probably because there’s so much celery in it. This is my own adjusted version of the recipe, and it is so good you may not want to let it go – or you may end up like me, who rarely eats tuna salad unless it’s made by me or my mother.

NONY’S TUNA SALAD

2 cans tuna (see quick tip)
3 stalks celery
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon sweet dressing, such as honey mustard
3 tablespoons dried minced onion or baco bits (optional)

Drain the tuna and put in a small bowl. Break up all the large pieces with a fork. Dice the celery into 1/4 inch pieces and add to the bowl. Add mayonnaise and stir.

Add the sweet dressing and minced onion. Stir. Allow to rest and cool in the refrigerator. It can be served as an individual salad, in a sandwich or as a tuna melt.

Quick Tip: There are two general types of canned tuna: chunk light and Albacore. Chunk light is darker and has more of a fishy taste. Albacore is not as fishy and has more of a meaty texture, but costs more. I recommend that if you are using chunk light that you add some lemon juice. It helps counteract the fishy-ness.