Kneel Before The Altar Of A Meatless God!

Pretty sure it all started with a link.

It was a few years back, I had just left the life of a chef to work in a library and start a food site. Me being a lifelong fan of Metal music and also being a big time eater and lover of food, I'm pretty sure someone sent me a link via social media with the tagline: "Dude, you gotta check this guy out."

The link took me to a YouTube page dedicated to someone calling himself the Vegan Black Metal Chef. Okay. The Black Metal thing I was immediately down with as was the chef part...but "vegan"? It looked cool but I wasn't immediately sold.

So I clicked on a video where he was making Pad Thai. Sure. I mean, I was pretty convinced that this whole thing was a joke. Some guy in corpse paint, maiming food and then sacrificing it all to some slop altar all in the name of instant and brief internet fame.

But then...I kept watching.

After the initial bleating of his name over and over again in the sort of goblin squawk that some Black Metal vocalists strain, the video actually turned a respectable corner. Wearing chain mail and harsh vinyl gauntlets, the man in the makeup began to actually cook food. Brandishing a wicked blade you might see in a Dungeons and Dragons playbook and doing it all in candlelight, the Vegan Black Metal Chef took you from what ingredients you will need, what to do first, how to cook and assemble and all the while using non-animal products to do so. About halfway in I didn't even mind that he was cooking vegan. In fact, I really didn't notice. This guy knew what he was doing and I was an immediate fan.

His book, his tome, his offering unto the world

The best part was, the Vegan Black Metal Chef was funny. Keeping with the whole "Black Metal" motif, he tells you to "crush the s--t out of the peanuts" and "this is so much better than store bought because store bought sauce suuuuuuuucks!"

Not only was I learning, but I was laughing too, all the while getting my Metal fix in as blistering darkened music loomed in the background while his lesson goes subtitled seeing as he is near gargling the recipe to you in demon speak. When that video ended I instantly started another. Then another. Pretty soon I was a subscriber to his site, followed him on social media and began posting his newest videos on my own online pages.

And I'm not even a vegan. Far from it.

But I was hooked.

The man, the makeup, the lover of animals

A few months ago I got a message on social media: The Vegan Black Metal Chef was writing a cookbook and created a Kickstarter campaign to get it going. Oh, I may not have a ton of money, but this guy is going to get some of mine because I want that cookbook out on the shelves for everyone to savor. Vegan or not, the guy in the bat wing shoulder cloak knows what he is doing and I knew that his manual would envelop most run of the mill Food Network inspired cookbooks. Forget the boring old 'brunch ideas' and 'super simple supper' recipes you've bored over again and again, the Vegan Black Metal Chef is here to burn all that tripe down (well, not actual tripe, that would mean cruelty to a cow) and build a tasty fortress of gastro-ingenuity without the use of real cheese or meat.

I've seen it be done on YouTube, now I just need it bound and printed.

There was even an incentive to donate to his cause. If you gave a certain amount, not only would he get closer to publication and you get a copy of the book once it was published but he would mention you and promote your website as well. This, I thought, was too good to be true. Seeing as the Tucson Homeskillet was in the infancy of its rebirth at the time, we could use all the help we can get. Heck, we still can! So I gave what I could and waited...

Ingenious recipes, easy and animal free

Then one day I got an email. It was from the man himself. He received my donation and just needed the link to my website. So I sent him the address and not too long after he responded:

"Your website has an image of a piece of pizza that clearly has animal based product on it. Since I cannot condone the use of animal based ingredients, can you send me something else?"

So I sent the Vegan Black Metal Chef a few articles that could be deemed "vegan"; one was about a local beer house and the other was a local brewery. That's...what I had. Luckily those links seemed to satisfy the dark lord of the kitchen and on November 3rd 2015, myself and the Tucson Homeskillet got a nod from the wicked sorcerer de cuisine sans animale.

A couple of months later, a package arrived. In it was his cookbook.

Immediately I flipped through it and just as quick I knew this thing was amazing.

Breaking it down like the villages of the forlorn doomed to have their huts engulfed in flames

"The Seitanic Spellbook" (for those that might not know, seitan is pure wheat gluten that a lot of vegetarians and vegans use in the place of meat, it has a similar consistency to some lean proteins especially when cooked and seasoned correctly) is what you would expect from the magic realm of the Vegan Black Metal Chef. Right off from opening the blackened folio of heightened consciousness cuisine, there are skulls, fire, pentagrams and most importantly a mission statement.

The master invokes the conclave of what "traditional" plant based cooking is meant to be and smashes that notion like the brains of his enemies. He sticks tried and true to keeping as close to non-animal based components as possible but using his own experience and taste to elevate each dish. But just like his website and videos, the VBMC crushes the usual elitist and sometimes tasteless takes on what it means to eat and live vegan. This guy makes it fun. Like really fun.

And that is something the lifelong devotees and the curious onlookers of the vegan cabal need these days. 

I know I do.

Your unearthly trip across the globe

The book starts off with a breakdown of cuisine from around the world. Not too sure what they are dining on in Hell these days, but I am sure it might involve a lot of garlic and some Sriracha, which the chef here uses a good amount of.

Peppered among the glorious offerings of less than barbarous fare are essays and helpful hints to assist you in your ascent into a food coma oblivion. Such as, and I had no idea about this, there are "vegan" wines compared to other wines. Did you know this? We sure didn't.

Apparently some wines are filtered through bone marrow and fish parts....but why? Anyway, the good thing is that vegan wine is cheaper than those that invoke gelatin to make them sweeter or more palpable to the common tongue and for that we bow our heads before the enlightened deity and continue forth on our quest for real yummy vittles. 

Further uses of the components you already possess in your pantry of doom

You are taken on a journey from Euro-American, through Asia, South America, Indian cuisine, Italian and the Middle East. Each stop, much like the notion of this entire hell spawn of recipes and concepts, breaks down the "traditional" approach to each dish. The best thing is, the change is really quite simple. All you have to do is tweak a bit here and there, perhaps spend more time at Asian markets and co-ops to get you ingredients, but overall the switch really isn't that grotesque.

And this is coming from a Metalhead that eats whatever he wants. Honestly, "The Seitanic Spellbook" really makes me want to challenge myself and go vegan once in a while. I like vegetables. If it wasn't for the potato how would we get french fries and vodka? Think about it.

Perhaps you going vegan wouldn't be so rough if you follow the examples set in this book. I bet you can do it.

Let's see if you can.

Metal Mark's weakness, Indian cuisine, which is nearly vegan to begin with

Each section opens up to one initial recipe, folded between the two pages. On the left, you have the "Spell Reagents" (aka the ingredients), which are always stripped down and easy to obtain and follow. Next comes the play by play on cooking the dish all done with the vernacular that we have all come to love and fear from his online videos. Sure there's no Black Metal playing (um, this is a book yo), so you're going to have to supply that on your own.

Might I suggest some early Emperor, Mayhem, Dark Throne, Carpathian Forest and that Chris Gaines thing that Garth Brooks did trying to do some sort of switcharoo on us and all he did was don a black wig and flavor savor.

Oh, and you need to cook by candlelight. And with a dagger of eternal nightmares. And pepper.

Lots of pepper.

Scoop out the flesh of yon avocado of death

Intertwined in these works of gloom and deliciousness, are the Chef's advice on how to shop. Oh you think you can just waltz into any Piggly Wiggly, buy some non-meat item and then be all "Hey, looka me...I'm all vegan and crap!" No. You need to read the labels, you need to seriously give some thought into what you are putting in your cart and then putting in your mouth. Hidden in so many so called "vegetarian" products contain microbes of animal spleen or cricket dust. It happens and if you want to follow the doctrines of the Vegan Black Metal Chef you are going to have to change the way you shop.

All it takes is perhaps a course to a different food supplier, maybe sourcing from a local farmers market or not supporting the gratuitous big box gluttony that is slowly poisoning you with their labels of "organic" and "healthy". This scripture of evil benediction will guide you into the darkened light of a new consciousness with just the simple task of modifying a thing or two here and there.

Regardless, this book is just chock full of instructions on how to inventory your kitchen to create the best freakin' food you could possible conjure up to appease the wicked gods of the culinary underworld.

Did you know you can recreate the flavor of shrimp by using the Japanese Konjac root and a few spices?

Me either.

Apparently bacon is a state of mind, not just a fatty pork product

My favorite parts have to be the "Oracles of Inspiration" which are extensions of the meal plan and recipe you were just provided with and uses the components to further your excursion into the deep forest of flavor.

You have the vegan cheese and made black bean "cheese" burgers...now what? How about mac 'n cheese? A burrito? Lasagne maybe? He doesn't just proclaim "Go get me some green beans for this one dish!" and then leave you hanging. Using the index in the back, locate 'green beans' and pursue your way into the vortex of heavenly spite and yummy tummy scorn. There is no end to the concepts of eating vegan in this book and flavor is just the beginning.

Or the end. Bwahahahahaa!!!

You all have spiked bowls of infernal grimness I hope

Through it all, the Vegan Black Metal Chef arrives on occasion to inspire and be the torch down the long dungeon of uncertainty and possible fleeing. With that razor sharp wit and confidence, he has pages dedicated to knowing what the book's intentions are, what it means to live a cruelty free life and to be the best darn person you can be. All the while cursing, praising Satan and making you laugh the whole time.

This cookbook may not be for all people just due to the subject matter and the use of Black Metal and skulls to mach your guacamole, but no one can deny the care, thought and time it went into creating such a demonic reach of exquisite food and flavor. If you are looking for fancy vegan cuisine using only the dried berry emulsion from the rarest bloom found on the tallest mountain only cultivated by a secluded indigenous people for one week out of the year...you need to talk to you dietitian/yoga instructor named Chip because this guy uses onion powder and stuff you can purchase down the street. The idea of going vegan shouldn't be terrifying or really that hard. It should be about awareness and caring about how you live in this world and what you do as a part of it. That and eating some good stuff.


The only "terrifying" thing is his collection of battle weapons. I mean, how do you chop a leek with a double bladed axe? Not too sure, but the Vegan Black Metal Chef makes it look so easy.

And fun.

By the fires ov Hell, the food was delightful

"The Seitanic Spellbook" needs to be in the collection of any serious home cook looking for options, vegetarians and vegans needing a well needed push into safer territories and for Metal fans because this man does it right. It's smart, it inventive, it cracked me up and above all it made me super hungry. I look at cookbooks all the time and this one actually had me panting and drooling. Best part is, there isn't one animal ingredient in any dish and I'd like to see Bobby Flay pull that off. Plus I don't think he could pull off the corpse paint either. Or maybe he could. I'd like to see him try.

Blessings and curses to you Vegan Black Metal Chef. This scroll of savory darkness is one to cherish and keep bound forever in a sarcophagus buried deep in the forlorn wastelands of Nefelheim only to be procured by the summoning imps beyond the freezing damnation mist when their hunger becomes malevolent.

Or keep convenient on top of the fridge like I do.

Either way.

We of the Tucson fold know our tacos, and these are good tacos

You can visit the Vegan Black Metal Chef HERE

Watch his videos HERE

Eventually buy the book but for now get it for your Kindle HERE

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
In the Permafrost of Late Winter, 2016

Metal Influence:

GORGOROTH

"Carving A Giant"

The Tucson Homeskillet reviews Kris Jenner's cookbook. Yes, that Kris Jenner. And the results are far from pretty.

First off allow me to apologize for not uploading anything on the Homeskillet for a while. For days I have been in a dark dark place, a state of mind to rival any of those that have survived war, torture or a Pauly Shore movie marathon on TNT. This horrible condition was completely self induced mind you; I could have gotten out at any time. But when you are in too deep the only way to truly escape is digging deeper until you come out the other end, bruised, bloodied and covered in a layer of thick aerosol cheese.

Was it worth it?, I often ask myself, sometimes weeping gently in the bathtub as I rock back and forth, clutching my knees to my chin, eyes cinched tight as the cat sits on the toilet licking its butt. That is a solid and worthy question. Still raw and trembling from the recent hell trial I put myself through, I find myself whispering gently during regular sleepless nights: Dear God (a.k.a Tony Iommi), I hope so...

The ordeal in focus here happened when I watched one of my favorite chefs, Hugh Acheson (http://hughacheson.com/), cooked a disgusting “meal” from a book I had no idea had made it to print. It was a simple dish, a staple in most American households either as a main course or an appetizer, but one that was inspired by pop culture dreck and then perfected by another flesh wound in the stench arena that is “reality television”. 

Watch it here: http://www.eater.com/2015/5/15/8611479/kris-jenner-nacho-recipe-kardashian-nicole-simpson

 

They were nachos. But not just any kind of nachos. Oh no. They were the recipe that a certain Nicole Brown-Simpson (remember that mess from the mid 90s?) loved and passed on to the author of this apparent “cookbook” that was “written” by the matronly star of the why-is-it-so-popular show “Keeping Up with the Kardashians”, Kris Jenner.

Kris Jenner? Kris Jenner wrote a cookbook? Wait...Kris Jenner can cook? Wait...wait...none of this makes sense. How did...? Who thought that...? Wait...what? No man. Kris Jenner does not have a cookbook published. A cookbook? C'mon. You've got to be...

Um, nope. Here it is. “In the Kitchen with Kris” it says. Before I knew what hit me, I had a copy in my hands and, worse yet, in my house! So it was true. There is a cookbook out there with Kris Jenner claiming to be the author and head “cook”. Sure. Why not. I mean if Snooki and J-Woww have books out that tell you how to live your own life (just like them) then why not someone who I thought didn't even know what a garlic press is.

“Is it for squeezing, like, little limes?” I could almost hear one of them speak. That is if I actually caught one of the episodes and not immediately hit the button on my remote trying to remove them from my screen. Still, I've seen enough of the show to get a hint of what it's about. I guess. Does Kris Jenner do a lot of cooking on the show? Yeah. That's what I thought...

But I really wanted to be fair going into reviewing this book. I mean, what if Kris Jenner is an amazing cook? What if she can lay down a souffle smackdown to make Bobby Flay run for cover as he pulls the soulless ginger hair from his head? What if?

So I opened the book to find this dedication:

And this photo:

Then I realized I was actually in for a ride. Not a fun ride, not an educational ride, not a ride where I come out enlightened at the end gleaming “I'm really glad I did that.” No. I could already tell this was going to be a bleak and baleful journey, with grimace inducing recipes, epic eye rolling inspiring musings on life and vapid tales of “celebrity” blessings and the fact that she was married to a dude that did not want to be a dude and her famous daughter got that way by making a sex tape and owning an orbit enticing and internet breaking butt.

As a fooder professional, I knew the job was going to be dangerous when I took it. So I carried on; reading the anecdotes, studying the recipes, following directions and finally eating my own foot because I locked myself in an abandoned refrigerator near the Santa Cruz wash due to the near lack of flavor and necessity from her passages.

Let us travel these tasteless roads together shall we? 

Day 1.

Flipping through the glossy pages of this culinary tome, I quickly realized that ol' Kris here was more into selling a sort of lifestyle than anything else. First few pages were slathered with gawdy 80's era dining room decor, the type of swirly gold leafed designs that used to symbolize opulence, which now occupy the dusty shelves of your local resale depot with cat lady grandmothers picking over them with cigarette stained fingers. Horrible. I didn't take any photos of them. Why would I? This is the Homeskillet, dedicated to all things food and awesome, and her taste in plates and settings was more inspiring to my vertigo and easy gag reflex.

Then came the recipes. "Recipes". Okay, maybe I am sounding like a snooty snot here but at first glance her recipes were the type of easy make, easier bake varietals that one would come across on the back of a bag of shredded cheese. I went a little blind for a moment reading them so I retreated to my family of cookbooks that I actually use and enjoy.

That's right....more David Chang. Sorry.

  

Yes, that is a vintage children's book above Thomas Keller's "French Laundry Cookbook" and made more sense than Kris Jenner's concoctions.

My brain and taste buds began to rattle so I killed a case of Hamm's beer and went to bed.

Day 2.

 Going back to Kris' cookbook I realized that there weren't a lot of photos of the food. Who does that? I mean, that's why I'm not a huge Rachel Ray fan (one of many reasons mind you...) because her stupid cookbooks don't have enough pictures. You need pictures! I want pictures of the food. It's such an essential, a basic basic in my opinion. The first thing you do is that you eat with your eyes, that's why eating is an all sensory experience and, like, the best thing ever. How hard is it to put a bunch of pictures in your cookbook? There is obviously a budget here. You know, Kardashians and TV and Bruce (well, Caitlin now) and all that, you think they could afford a shot of her kebabs or summer salad or something. 

Nope. Not really. But I did find this one:

Yes. THAT Kim...

And this one:

The dad that paid for all of this crap...

So it became apparent, quite quickly, that Kris Jenner is hyper aware of who got her to where she is. And a cookbook now. Why not? To quote Jane's Addiction: Cash in now honey / Cash in now! Because in a few short years this book, along with their names, could be just as synonymous with faded pop garbage like the Hiltons and Vanilla Ice's and such.

Wait, doesn't Vanilla Ice have a reality show now? Probably...

I knew it!

So another day was done and I had to ease the strain by putting a large straw in a box of wine then went out and committed petty crimes.

Day 3.

Wait. There are pictures of food in the book. Not much, but some. And, just like the home decor that was burning the eyes earlier, these shots look like they belonged in a collection called "The Sad Mom's I Give Up Food For A Family That Hates You Anyway".

Check it:

"Guacamole"

Enchiladas covered in shaving cream and orphan tears.

After exfoliating your feet, top on the pile of flavorless noodles tossed with ketchup.

Pretty sure this is an image from a Village Inn menu circa 1993.

Please steam your broccoli until it is a dark green, blanching out all flavor and texture and then go watch "Schindler's List" to try and cheer you up.

I couldn't take anymore. So I drank a whiskey called Peg Leg Ronaldo's and slammed my toes on the legs of the living room table multiple times until I was clear headed again...

Day 4.

Then it was time to get down. Let's try the recipes!

If you can image a gaggle of chicken parts literally praying to be put out of its misery, then you might have a sense of what I was dealing with here. Does Khloe Kardashian even know what buttermilk is, outside of a line of moisturizer her and her sister Kourtney sell under their Double K brand of stuff you don't need? Not too sure.

So that night I ate a bag of roofies and took advantage of myself.

Day 5.

I didn't even attempt. Rather I drank turpentine, burned all my shoes and air guitar'd naked to the collective works of Captain and Tennille. 

Day 6.

Not too sure what a "mashie" is but it resembled a tight loaf of control top nylons stuffed with horse glue and albino sex criminals. The flavor was elementary school cafeteria perfection and that inspired me to snort thumb tacks and then proceed to parade without a license which got me arrested and finally I received a decent meal and I wept happily into my man gruel and juice box.

Hell.

Day 7.

Here they are. Nicole's "famous" nachos...

I don't see OJ here but, well....uh....

Oh. They are to die for....

Hallucinating, I took off one of my arms and began to beat the invading horde of Martha Stewarts that were descending on me screaming "Why Metal Mark? WHY?" 

I don't know imaginary Martha Stewarts. I. Don't. Know...

Day 8.

Trying to make sense of it all, I busted out my notebook and began to score my thoughts down on my whole experience.

Madness...

Nothing. Pages and pages of mind vomit and I came out as empty as her concept for a lemon tart dessert. I couldn't make sense of any of this. Then, I realized that I skimmed over an image in the book, another life advice from the queen B of D list celebrities.

This. This is what Kris Jenner suggests a "well stocked" fridge is supposed to look like:

Yeah.

So I took one of those Gatorades, poured half down the toilet, filled the rest up with furniture varnish and went to Toys R Us and stole as many My Little Pony's as my shorts could fit and handle. 

Another night in jail. Another scrumptious free meal.

Day 9.

It was here, exhausted, famished, drained, hungover, baptized and given the key to the city of Murdoch, WY, that I knew my journey with "In The Kitchen With Kris" had to come to an end.

So I asked our cat, Lil Poundcake, what she thought about it.

I don't speak cat, but that look shrieks "I will kill you"...

Maybe it was the large amount of harmful chemicals I had ingested in a few short days, but I'm pretty sure she zoned in on my brain waves and instructed me to "bury it".

Yes, oh wise and fuzzy master. I will do thy bidding.

Back to the abyss, foul demon!

Thing is, it didn't work. Like a zombie bad penny, the cookbook arose and came back to me. Frustrated, confused and slightly aroused, I had no other choice than just to leave it for dead by the dumpster.

And there it sits to this day...

Sometimes when I get lonely or nostalgic, I'll go out to the dumpster and visit Kris and we silently recall and revisit all the good times we had.

Yeah. Good times...

Another image from the book. This...but no food photos.

Good...

With Bruce. Pre Caitlin days before her nachos made him wanna cut it off...

Times.

Well kids. That's the Homeskillet take on Kris Jenner's cookbook. It was the best of times....no it wasn't. It was the worst of times. But it was....times.

Don't say I didn't warn you here. But the only way to deal with a foul culinary mistake such as this, might I prescribe lots of violence and abusive substances. It's the singularly reasonable notion to ride out the level 8 hell ride you will be subject to.

Or, better yet....just stay away. Just say no. Don't do it. It's probably the best advice I can give you in this fragile state that I am now in. 

Now...go. Leave me. Leave me to regain the sanity and regrow the man that I know still lives within me. 

Sorry Bruce. I mean...Caitlin. I now know what you had to go through. Perhaps I too will join you on the other side. But first, I'd have to get the 'go ahead' from my wife.

Yeah. She said no. Sorry man. 

Or...

Anyway, here is my final thought on the matter:

Not enough pepper spray in the universe can keep this level of hate at bay...

Cheers!

Camera and Typing:

Metal Mark 

Mid June, 2015 

Metal Influence:

Electric Wizard

"Legalize Drugs and Murder"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zNG63rf9LQ

 

"Screw you Metal Mark. And your food blog sucks!" - Kris Jenner