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 presents: The Worst Burrito in Tucson!

Now this particular idea came to me one day while I was at work. It was slow, kind of quiet, and for some reason George Carlin kept running through my mind. I kept hearing in the recess beyond the rusty hamster wheel that is my brain, the comedic legend going on with:

"Somewhere out there is the worst doctor. Has to be. Process of elimination. And the worst part is...is that someone has an appointment to see him tomorrow!"

That notion alone got me to thinking: there has got to be the worst burrito in Tucson. Has to be. Process of elimination. 

And the worst part is...someone is buying one right now!

Why the worst burrito? I don't know. Because it takes a lot to really mess up a burrito. Plus I like burritos so...I got that going for me. 

Immediately I logged onto YELP and started snooping around. All I did was type in "worst burrito", made sure I was in the Tucson, AZ field and hit send. It did not take long to garner a decent list but one particular establishment kept coming up. 

With a consistent rating of one stars, this place had Yelpers saying:

 "I threw away my burrito after the first bite afraid for my health. This place needs to seriously consider their food. GROSS."

"Too bad I can't do 'NO stars!  No stars.....service was clueless, burrito was awful."

"The food quality was subpar. One of my containers had a live ant. Surprise health inspection recommended."

 "Seems they are using left over scraps to fill burritos, avoid this place and save your $."

"It's open on Christmas. This must have been some sort of revenge for not visiting family."

And this goes on and on. So then I got to wondering: Maybe I should go to this place, order one or some of these burritos, eat them and then chronicle my journey with what most folks online are chatting up as "the worst burrito in Tucson". 

After double checking with some other review sites, I was convinced. This one location did, indeed, as proclaimed by the general burrito eating public of Tucson, AZ, apparently harbor the worst rated burrito in town. 

As a food writer, sometimes risk taker and all around complete idiot, I put it upon myself to seek out the foulest of the foul and let you know how it really went down. 

Ready? Ok...

Here's the thing, we (well....me) at the Tucson Homeskillet like to have fun and doing a piece such as this is, in my eyes, goofy fun. But seeing as I am still in the early stages of getting my website and point of view out there, and also being a fairly nice guy, I will not give out the real name of the "restaurant". I mean, people do work there, I don't want to come across as too much of a butthead and in the end it just seems like a low blow to just make fun of a place while pointing a finger, giggling. It's not our/my style. I hope you understand. 

So, after saying that, if you really want to know the name of the restaurant, literally just Google "worst burrito in Tucson", or visit Yelp or Zomato and see for yourself. 

Okay. It was a bright, sunny, rather breezy and warm day in Tucson, when I got in the car and drove a good path out of the way to obtain this hated tortilla roll of meat slop and regret. Like a few miles. Man, this burrito better suck major ass or I'm going to get peeved. Finally, I arrived at my destitute destination, the corner of River and La Cholla (another clue) parked the rig and got out. 

You have arrived at your burrito. And may the Mexican food gods have mercy on your stomach...

The area itself was subpar; sort of desolate and acrid and the restaurant was in a broke down strip mall, sandwiched between a low end "vaping" smoke shop and this abandoned bit of furniture.

Seems cozy. And....appropriate.

To be honest I almost considered eating the burrito on that sofa but my better instincts told me that one bodily abuse would suffice for the day. Having to return home with whatever nits and creepys evolved deep in those neo-Southwestern cushions would not make the wife, cat and, well, myself very comfortable for the next few days. So I cleared that idea and went inside.

At 1pm on a Wednesday, what is typically the lunch rush, this is what I was hit with:

(insert wind noise and tumbleweeds)

Nothing. The place was empty. That, dear readers, is always a clue as to what I am about to be privy to. If there is no one here, let for a scant of employees, I suppose the reviews have caught up with them and their reputation is now clearly visible. In a town where you can get a good, if not great, if not outstanding, burrito at all hours why would you waste your hard earned dollars and eat time with something that might give you the sobs of remorse? It's just not worth it, especially here in Tucson. But, still, I had an assignment to fulfill so I bellied up to the counter and placed my order.

Since I was here, I had made the effort, the drive and had a few bucks in my pocket, I decided to be more impartial and order two burritos. Hey man, maybe the guys on the internet have just been eating one particular burrito, the one that sucks donky shafts, with the rest being of edible estate.

I ordered the "California burrito", which promises carne asada, potatoes and pico de gallo. Sounded okay, and seeing that I hail from the golden state I was curious as to why there was no avocado or guacamole on it. Potatoes? Shouldn't that be the Idaho burrito? Whatever. I also ordered the chicken burrito because, for reals, if you screw up a chicken burrito in Tucson there is little to no reason why your eating establishment should even be standing.

After a few minutes, my order was ready and I headed out to sample the wares.

My first impression before eating the food? The service was actually pretty decent. The girl at the counter was friendly and the food arrived rather swiftly. Plus it didn't smell too horrible as I made the lengthy drive home. In fact, I was starting to get really hungry.

Shotgun burritos....

When I got home, first order of business was to see what our cat, Lil Poundcake, thought about the burritos. You know, the cat's keen instinct and sense of smell and all. All she did was lazily look at the paper wrapped meat tubes as if I had just shoved two rolls of fart under her nose. Maybe it was just the post nap sleepy state she was in, but our girl wasn't having it...

Lil Poundcake is already unimpressed...

So I took the two burritos to the kitchen, assessed the pre-damage, and then went for it.

So far, so....good?

The first burrito I decided to sample was the California. Taking a chef knife I split it open to see what I was going to be working with. And this is what I got:

So when did California become associated with potatoes?

Yeah. Potatoes. Lots and lots of potatoes. With a scrim of carne asada. And...where's the pico? I don't see no stinking pico. I want my pico! C'mon man. It really didn't matter too much at that moment because I was quite ravenous. If the burrito was filled with those ants that one dude on Yelp proclaimed were, I'd still tuck in.

Then, the moment of truth: I took a bite and closed my eyes to see if the terror was as vibrant as I anticipated it would be.

And the answer is...not really. Yeah, it was a lot of potato with each bite ratio, nearly nil of carne asada and, as expected, there was no pico de gallo to be found, but it wasn't that bad. Was it because I had only had half a bagel for breakfast and that was, like, hours ago, that I was hungry enough to enjoy even the foulest of the foul? Or was this burrito actually, in a sense, edible? It was both I think. After another bite and my hunger subsided I began to really think deep about this supposed worst burrito in Tucson.

So I took the burrito into the one room where I knew I could dissertate with objectivity and equity.

The bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet. Sitting on the toilet. And...shoulda flushed it.

It was here that I realized that the California burrito was all filler. And it didn't deliver on it's promise of "pico de gallo". Using potato is a cheat in the food biz because the starchy root is cheap and can easily absorb the flavors of its surrounding components. The potatoes were actually rather toothsome; not exactly crunchy but not exactly cooked all the way through. The loose salsa they provided in plastic ramekins wasn't too shabby to my surprise. In fact, the red sauce had a bit of a kick to it. Luckily that aided in my drab disappointment of the burrito as it wasn't the worst burrito I ever had nor was it the best. Far from the best come to think of it. Trust me, I have had some gnarly burritos in my day. Hoo doggies. This particular burrito might go over well in a state that thinks mega chain taco fast food is in fact "Mexican" food, but here in the old Pueblo it was a lame side show in the great carnival of flavors to be had with burritos.

I wanted HORRIBLE! I got...adequate. Oh well.

"Yeah. No." - Lil Poundcake

So I prayed to the aformentioned Mexican food gods to give me strength, give me hope, give me...well. Either give me a surprisingly good burrito from a location everyone has deemed a shopping cart filled with mournful cheese or give me something so repugnant that all I have to do after is roll down the hill to the sadness buffet where I will happily ingest grout, a McRib and an old terrycloth robe from that creepy neighbor of yours.

I just want burrito extremes here!

God. If you're listenin'...HELP!

Instead, I called upon this god to give me strength to carry on.

Gonna need all the help I can get...

Next up: the chicken burrito.

Alright. Upon first inspection it just looked like big hunks of chicken rolled up in a tortilla. Because, in fact....that's what it was! No if's, and's or but's. Chicken. Tortilla. Got it. Done.

The first bite of the chicken burrito made me oh so happy. Why you may ask?

Because it sucked! Oh man. This flavorless piece of turd poultry was so bland and dry that I had to result to alternative measures to make it somewhat palpable.

The chicken was so stale that maybe adding some water to it might bring it back to some form of moisture. But,alas, it just made the barren heap of protein damp. Crap!

This might help...

It was still too dry. So then I tried adding some moisturizer to it. All that did was act as a weird sour cream, with an emphasis on the sour. And possibly life threatening. It didn't matter. I had finally found what I had been digging for, the cursed beast of the Tucson burrito wasteland.

It was the chicken burrito! THE WORST BURRITO IN TUCSON!

Damn you piece of crap chicken burrito. Damn you!

Stumped but not defeated, I attempted to add a bunch of ingredients to spruce up the gobbled terror of non-awesome. Nothing. Just a heck spread of mutated flavors and textures that did nothing to aid in my gleeful animosity. I mean, Nutella and bacon bits? How can that not work?

The worst burrito vortex is nothing to be contended with...

Still didn't help...

Then I got Mr. T involved. Perhaps he could gut punch it enough to make it somewhat feasible. It just made the T man more pissed off because it actually fought back. And here I thought my man didn't take no jibba jabba from no punk ass burrito.

We were wrong. We were oh....oh so wrong.

I pity the burrito that sucks wet drippy camel balls...

Slightly defeated, I left the chicken burrito out to pasture hoping the summertime wildlife would take it back to its den, nurse it to health and eventually call it one of their own.

All I got was a squirrel who gave me a small clawed thunderfinger after sniffing it a bit.

Really my furry woodland friend? I thought we were bros, bro. Not even in my desperate hour of need did those bushy tailed jackanapes come to my rescue. Fine then. Be that way. You're off my Xmas card list squirrel! See if I care!

Even the squirrels took pity on me...

Feeling sneaky, I then tried to mail it back but all the postman said was: "Not this time Metal Mark! Not this rancid piece of Satan taint. Now you go back home and think about what you were just about to do."

Man. Unprecedented heaviness from my local usually merry mail carrier in the late afternoon.

The postman always rings 'screw you!'

Forget that. The only humane effort on my part then was to burn the thing. My taste buds have already endured enough. My stomach was churning with indignation. My senses were failing as were my bowels (only slightly) so I poured fuel on the poor sumbitch and torched it. Sent it back to Hell where it belonged. Bye wack ass burrito.

Burn! Burn foul demon of flavorless Hell!

In the end, I was sad to see the thing go. I had, indeed, found and (mostly) eaten the worst burrito in Tucson. It was a steady pilgrimage to Flavorless town but my mind and body could not endure any more torment.

In my final moments parting with the burrito, I could faintly hear the ghostly call from beyond...

"I will return... I will return..."

And, it did. About an hour later.

I was, at last, relieved of The Worst Burrito in Tucson.

Typing and Camera
Metal Mark
Early July, 2015

Metal Inspiration
Carcass "Symphonies of Sickness"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7NkGG9_8aU