Metamorphosis

Mercenary

Metamorphosis

When people think of metal nowadays, a country being named can quickly bring a band or band’s style to mind. Mention Sweden, and people think In Flames and At The Gates; Norway brings Emperor and Dimmu Borgir to mind; Finland immediately sparks: Bodom. When it comes to a band flying the flag high for metal in Denmark, it’s Mercenary. 

Mercenary formed in 1991, but the first time I was ever able to hear them was in 2004 with their 11 Dreams album. I had always been very influenced by Melodic Death Metal, but I had never heard this sound… blending elements of Melodic Death with searingly high, catchy Power Metal-ish vocals, Progressive moments, etherial Keyboard layering- and quite exciting production ideas. The Hours That Remain that came out in 2006 quickly became a favorite contemporary metal album for me. 

The melancholic, yet crushingly heavy sound that Mercenary began honing in even further was a true ear-catcher as far as originality goes. 

Mercenary has been hit with many line-up changes and difficult obstacles in their way as far as the music business goes; and unfortunately it has caused them, in this writers opinion- to not be heard by enough people. Mercenary is a gem of a band; an incredibly original, mentally engaging band- and now with Metamorphosis, I feel they have created their magnum opus. 

As musically familiar Metamorphosis is, it takes on a whole new level of sound that Mercenary has yet to discover until now. When I had heard that Mercenary lost their vocalist, I was quite nervous for the band due to the quite versatile vocal delivery to date; however, with new vocalist Rene’ Pedersen - it’s as if he was a missing link in achieving greatness. 

Rene’ can do it all. Whether really intense mid-ranged guttural-resonated screaming, into shrill higher black metal rasp territory - the screaming is something you feel in your stomach. It’s emotive and powerful. Rene’s singing voice? The things he can do will leave other singers jealous. Rene’ is just as comfortable in the lower range of singing, all the way into Halford-esque territory; the very first time Jakob sent the new record to me, and I heard the chorus to the opening track - all the hairs on my arms stood up and I got goosebumps. 

The choruses on this new record are catchier than ever vocally - with really fantastic lyrics; the music is layered thick and done just right. Ranging from heavy kick drum/ guitar syncopated riffs that weave in and out of melodic ranges; to pedal tone style riffery; then into some new territory that has yet to be heard from Mercenary. “The Follower” has a verse unlike any previous Mercenary album. 

To quote styles purely for the sake of example to someone who hasn’t heard Mercenary yet; this album has reminders of styles from Melodic Death Metal, Power Metal, an almost post-hardcore approach to some clean arpeggiations and patterns that I’ve never heard on a Mercenary record; and choruses that are NOT your typical metal choruses. The choruses delivered on this record are more anthemic than metal choruses can usually ever hope to be. 

Musically, the drums and rhythm guitars are perfectly complimentary together- everything is mechanically precise while still delivering a powerful feeling to the listener. The solos are better than ever; and very tastefully planted in the right spots amidst the songs. The variations in what happens sonically on the album at the same time give the listener a truly exciting production again - during a locked in rhythm section, there will be an intricate-yet concise melody passage; vocals with great layering (classic Mercenary scream/sing blends), and etherial sounding keyboard passages happening. The album’s production sound is the best of all the records to date as well.

“Memoria” is the star of the show in my opinion. There has never been a song like this from Mercenary. Every single thing is a hook. The melodic guitar work and the rhythm guitar work in the intro alone are instantly classic hooks; the verse and prechorus are perfectly crafted with a Mercenary-esque pop approach. The emotion Rene’ conveys in his lyrics can be felt while you listen- using his range effortlessly (I’m listening to the post-chorus right now as I type and I felt goosebumps on my face.) His vibrato is tasteful, lyrics are spot on, and the music lends a perfect backdrop to what’s happening on the song. 

I love this band; I love this album. Fans of Metal, Rock, Hardcore, Metalcore, Power Metal, Melodic Death Metal, and music in general should check this album out. 

Mercenary’s Metamorphosis is a record that needs to be heard by the masses. Support this band. 

The Hymn Of A Broken Man

Times Of Grace

The Hymn Of A Broken Man

Alive Or Just Breathing came out May 21, 2002; and since then, it’s influence can be heard in countless contemporary acts from around the world. Killswitch Engage’s Roadrunner debut (their second release) changed modern music as the world would know it; creating a new sound and approach to the way music, lyrics, and culture would be interpreted by bands. AOJB influenced bands from all genres: Contemporary Metal and Hardcore bands from the states and UK; Melodic Death Metal bands in Scandinavia and Europe (who would have possibly even influenced KSE at one time); some last standing Nu Metal bands; all the way to Punk and Emo bands, and even some Modern Rock bands. 

It wasn’t just the musical sound of Killswitch that all bands started looking to for inspiration; the lyrical style of Jesse Leach has very obviously been copied to endless account by numerous acts spanning more than the aforementioned genres. The social and cultural elements that KSE presented as a band were soon even imitated - from the fashion of the band, to the gear used live or on album, even the stage moves of most of the band members (there has yet to be a good Adam D impersonation on stage…). 

Adam D and Jesse Leach each have their own unique sound, that is instantly recognizable by fans of their work- and with Jesse’s departure from KSE, things were still great, but never quite the same as Alive… until now. 

Times Of Grace started out as a whisper of a potential project for outsiders, that eventually became a full on realization to people. I am an incredibly huge fan of Killswitch Engage, and without Alive Or Just Breathing, I feel that my style wouldn’t have fully ever come into what it’s become; so when I was passed The Hymn Of A Broken Man (secretly) before it’s release, I was incredibly stoked. Being able to have listened to the record for the last month or so before being asked to write this review, it feels just like the first time I ever got my hands on Alive. 

The Hymn Of A Broken Man is everything that is loved about Alive Or Just Breathing, only so much more. It’s musically and lyrically familiar, while at the same time delving so much deeper on all fronts of ability, musicianship, and depth. 

The record feels perfect. Sonically, it captures everything that is Adam and Jesse - ridiculously tight (but still emotive) guitars and drums; displaying Adam’s fusion of Melodic Death Metal/ Hardcore/ Metal rhythms, Gothenburg/ Post-hardcore/ emo/ punk- laced melodies, mesmerizing Post-Metal/ atmospheric arpeggiated cleans; while Jesse is more versatile than ever: ranging from low emotive singing into a blisteringly high singing range that will surely leave other vocalists feeling like they were born with the wrong range. Jesse’s classic scream is back as well- but this time it feels even more visceral and eviscerating. 

All I have of the record so far is the mp3’s and a small photo of the cover; so I don’t have the actual lyrics, but from what I have heard - I love the lyrics. Leach is someone who puts positivity into his lyrics in a very intense manner; I have heard the imitators of his style- and it’s transparent, however Jesse’s approach to spirituality and self make you look inward; his lyrics speak in a way that I feel no matter what religion someone is or isn’t, these lyrics can apply in a deep way. 

It isn’t all positivity on Hymn however. The songs that feeler darker lyrically feel very dark; with the appropriate use of having such light to the vocals, when the more sinister sounding topics come in- it makes it all the more intense. Even the packaging and look of Times Of Grace is refreshing - they’re not doing things the way everyone else is; this was a very conscious effort of a project to create something familiar but new.

As far as the songs go on the record, every single one fits the album perfectly. They do vary in style of what you’ll see Times Of Grace doing: stuff that has a southerny metal tinge to it; to melodic death metal pedal tone rhythms; to fast black metal influenced vocal and musical approaches; ultra-tight kick drum/ guitar breakdown syncopation; vibey, dark clean passages; impossibly huge, catchy, layered choruses; to an end-of-the-world sounding folk guitar and vocal song. 

This CD will be impossible to define in one bracket of genre-defining; but that’s what is so great about every time Adam and Jesse create together- they make something new. Something that can change the way all scenes do it. This CD needs to be pushed and delivered to all the ears of music fans around the world. Roadrunner needs to push this album, Times Of Grace needs to tour, bands need to tour with TOG. The music world needs a band like Times Of Grace. Times Of Grace’s The Hymn Of A Broken Man is without a doubt, one of the best albums of our time.

Runners Gun

(Philadelphia, Pa)

When I think Philly, I think of all the venues I’ve played - and I’m pretty damn sure I’ve played every single one of them; I think of a greasy heart-clogging Philly cheesesteak “wit” (that’s with cheese wiz); I think of the old video stores Trivium’s original cover artist Paul took me to to purchase Korean films like Coast Guard, Old Boy, Bad Guy - movies so dark, so twisted, yet still so artistic - movies that will forever scar, haunt and delight me; I remember sloppy, sweaty drunken arguments, minor-catastrophes, fights, and our old Chevy conversion van. 

My relationship with Philadelphia is sort of a recurring one-night-fling. We always have a good time together, but then the fun is sort of over after the finale, if ya know what I’m sayin’ - leaving us both wanting a little more but also leaving us both wanting to run the walk of shame out of the room.

Having performed (multiple times) in some legendary clubs like: The TLA, The Trocadero (both upstairs and downstairs), The Electric Room, that big-amphitheater on the border of Jersey that keeps changing it’s name, even The First Unitarian Church - I’ve without a doubt witnessed some of the hardest rocking music fans in the States, but you’d think that I would have some great food stories to date - not quite.

My earliest food memories of Philly would be going to the “wrong” “best” cheesesteak place, mystery not-so-good Peking duck from Chinese places with a grease fog you have to waft through to find your seat, greasy-sloppy-spoon diners, Wawa stops at 2:37am in the van to sink-shower and grab a chicken tender sub - and lots of cheap long island iced teas and jaeger from the venue’s bars. 

Now, don’t get me wrong - I know there is good stuff in Philly - you just need a local to show you around. What happens if your local source is also your North American booking agent, good friend for years, restaurant co-owner, and a foodie? Then you’re set. 

Tim Borror has been Trivium’s booking agent since the beginning, along with Josh Kline and their co-workers at The Agency - and almost simultaneously it seemed, Tim heard I had a blog and I heard Tim owned a restaurant. Simple as that.

We finished the Camden show of Mayhem (basically the Jersey/Philly/outskirts of New York) show and P and I grabbed the venue’s runner to drop us off at Gunners Run, Borror’s bar/restaurant. Tim is co-owner of Gunners along with a few partners (a well known local promoter who has been booking Trivium in his clubs for ages) and a few other local music/food-dudes. Tim has been instrumental in helping cement Trivium as a touring-force in the USA and Canada, so I knew it’d be a great time to be able to hang in his turf for a change. 

The area surrounding Gunners Run is breath-taking if you haven’t been there. It’s in a pristinely cleaned up, newly developed area of downtown Philly. Very different from the TLA’s surroundings that we’ve become so familiar with. It was all modernized apartment/loft living, big, open areas where people can drink and eat and enjoy the company of like-minded people. We approach the restaurant and see that the outside is packed, the inside has a Misfits cover-band jamming out. Gunners is an old building that has been remodeled and fashioned into a cool pub/food spot. The vibe is very Philly if you’ve been to the clubs in the area - just way more inviting. Clean, but still rock and roll.

We greet Tim, his wife, some staff, co-workers/owners and grab a seat outside. I start with one of their cocktails, the Tipsy Arnold Palmer (Absolut Wild Tea Vodka and lemonade). We chat the music biz, our touring schedule, life, yoga - all the good bits. Ordering some of Gunners’ Nachos to start, we begin chowing down. The nachos here were packed with all the essential suspects and perfect on this hot Philly-night - corn tortillas, refried beans, sharp cheddar, pepper jack, pico de gallo, sour cream, jalapeno, chicken. I was definitely into the sharing-vibe going down so far. They order me a glass of the house-made Cucumber-infused gin and tonic to get the appetite going -  good stuff with a bite.

For mains, we asked what the best sandwiches were, and were greeted by the Roast beef with cheddar cheese and horseradish mayo for me, and the Pork with broccoli rabe and provolone for Paolo. A great sandwich is something magical - because - being in a band, you eat a lot of sandwiches from your rider (the list of things bands request to have daily in their dressing room: booze, water, meat, bread, strippers, etc.) and they’re typically just your standard-ass meat and bread-product. Gunners sandwich? Amazingness. 

Simple, local, very Philadelphia. The Licscio bakery-bread had a perfect amount of crispness on the outer parts, the soft white-bread-flesh inside; each sandwich’s meat was married with the perfect cheese combo. Apparently, the Pork/rabe/provolone is just  as Philly as the cheesesteak (and just as good as the best Philly-cheese). Gunners’ buttermilk/mayo/celery/red onion red potato salad with dill was a perfect companion to the godly sandwiches. 

From here, I went with the Racer 5 IPA (always a fan of a good IPA), then into desert: The Belgian waffles with ice cream and fresh strawberries. To me - that desert felt very southern… it reminded me of home (yes - Florida is intensely “southern” in some of the areas I traverse, target-practice, eat and drink). I could have eaten that desert any time of day - damn good stuff.

To close, the Mint julep with bourbon, mint and simple syrup - another southern something, perfect to battle the unseasonably-hot Philly-summer heat. 

Everything at Gunners feels familiar, yet with it’s own spin. I feel whether you’re in a Metal or Punk band; you’re a college student of business woman/man - Gunners feels like somewhere you’ve been, somewhere you like to be. It has the reminiscence of a favorite local pub, local music club, and pub-grub spot. The food here does things iconically Philly and iconically American-bar, but done right. The quality and the care is definitely considered and executed - we ended up hanging here for hours that flew like minutes. 

Come here with friends and hang and eat and drink - you won’t be let down.

(excuse the iPhone photos)

Sweet Breads Of America

(Clifton Park, Robinson Township. Virginia Beach, Jackson)

There are times when a good meal seems like something of an impracticability - that yes, hunger can and will be quenched, but by something necessary - not desired. Obviously, by the city names involved in this current episode seem like potential dismal options for soul-nourishing eats - but fret not my friends, for my love for eating something more-than-worth-a-damn will go to all investigatory lengths.

We were on an off-date show from Mayhem, with In Flames in Clifton Park, NY - a venue and city Trivium has seen many a time in the past, and I had a feeling today may not be more than a sandwich-day. When walking to the nearest liquor store (don’t worry, this isn’t an alcoholic-prelude for Matt Heafy) for our Mayhem Themed Party stock (our theme was no theme), I noticed a “Vegetarian Italian Restaurant.” Odd. I was in the North-East, looking into the eyes of a vegetarian Italian place. Seemed almost paradoxical when talking NY/NJ-Italian cuisine… 

Paolo and I popped in. Obvious local’s joint - just a couple patrons in (it was an odd hour… then again - an odd town?) I went for a glass of the house red and the Thomas Jefferson: “a stack of marinated eggplant and roasted red peppers, topped with mozzarella and marinara sauce, surrounded by onions, squash, broccoli, carrots, chick peas, artichoke hearts and olives.” A mouth full. It was solid stuff - pricey, but healthy. Proof you can eat healthy and well in some places usually lined with the typical meat-color-sprayed-down patties of assembly-line-animal part fast food shops. But yeah - vegetarian Italian? I could have used a slice of breaded-veal on top of that Tommy Jeff. 

On a day off in Robison Township (a place littered with chain fast food, chain sit-down restaurants, mall food-courts, and the other usual suspects), I miraculously stumbled upon Dasonii - a Korean restaurant in the middle of a strip-mall. Next to it were something like dollar-stores and odd travel-agencies… looked great! 

Greeted by an impossibly friendly waitress/possible-owner, we were shown to our table in the slightly-populated stop. This place looked half-traditional-gone-attempted-modern and half sports-bar (in a city like this, in this part of the States - you pretty much need a sports bar to survive unfortunately). 

We were delivered an assortment of Korean pickles - all delicious, especially the Kim-Chee (fermented, Korean, pickled Cabbage) which is always a favorite of mine; theirs was house-made. Next up was the Gochu Pajeon, a Korean pancake with scallion and hot peppers. This thing was nuts. A fluffy, crispy goliath that was as thick as a massive-waffle - it was perfectly super-hot and very filling. 

I saw “rice” and “fried egg” and knew I had to get the Dolsot Bibimbap: (fun Korean-to-English translation here) “Bibimbap with served in heated stone clay pot for crispy and crunchy rice.” Ha. I love it. This beast was something special - it came in a super-heated clay pot, a massive montage of rice, beef, Korean vegetables, the egg, sesame. The waitress told me to mix it all together with this red sauce - I thought the thing was good separated, but man… mixed up, this thing was amazing. I love all kinds of fried-rice, but this one is one that gets crispier the longer it takes you to eat it (I love crispy textures in food). Slightly spicy, very meaty; the fried egg’s yolk lightly coated all the rice and meat and began cooking mores0 into a new dish of crispy-spectacular-ness. 

Full and happy - P and I wandered back to the hotel.

When hunger struck again in Robinson Township, we decided to go back to Dasonii again. The same waitress/potential-owner was still working hard at the restaurant, upon noticing us, her face lit up and she happily greeted her already-returning-patrons. 

I started with the house-made barley tea; sweet, reminiscent of Japanese Mugi-Cha - earthy, delicious. Starting with decent fried dumplings, moving into the Yukgaejang, a spicy shredded beef soup with scallions and vermicelli noodles (recommended by our waitress when I asked for “her favorite thing on the menu”). 

Dinner was good - but I kept wishing I ordered the Dolsot Bibimbap again… man was that thing incredible. 

Much later on on the tour, finding ourselves on the outskirts of Virginia Beach, Paolo (oddly) rented a car. Thankfully I should say. 

We piled in and headed to a Vietnamese place I found online (apparently, like Orlando, Va Beach has a lot of Vietnamese restaurants). With Japanese food, it can yield bad results if you pick a random spot. I find that there are lots of non-Japanese Asians who are running “Japanese” places. You know the sort - a half-flickering light pulling you in with words like: “Sushi. Teppanyaki. Sweet and Sour Pork.” Hmm… one doesn’t fit. Luckily - with Vietnamese… Vietnamese is the USA is pretty much always run by Vietnamese. 

I started with the “Young Coconut Juice,” a typical-bar-soda-glass with hunks of sliced coconut and delicious coconut water inside. We ordered a very-solid Bahn Mi Dac Biet. Bahn Mi is the Vietnamese sub and it is something of beauty: French baguette, all cuts of delectable meats (creep meats as my wife calls ‘em), cilantro, carrots, cucumber, and usually some-sort of pate’-type meat-paste that lines the insides. So good. 

I also, over-ordered the Pho Dac Biet (I think Dac Biet translates to something along the lines of “everything but the kitchen sink”). Pho is Vietnamese beef (or chicken) noodle soup. Pho is the iconic Viet-dish. It’s massive, it’s meant to be hot, it’s meant to be filling. Those sides of bean sprouts, basil, lime, peppers? Put those things in there - it’s meant to be eaten like that. My Dac Biet order (at home and on the road) is always the one with beef, beef-balls, tripe, and tendon. As the soup sits in the scorching broth - the flavors all conjoin and mash to make something fantastic. I judge a good Pho (pronounced kind of like “Fuhh”) by how good it’s broth it is by itself - Pho 79 did a pretty damn good job on it all.

Flash way forward into the Mayhem tour, on a last-minute-booked off-date show in a tiny little club in Jackson, Ms called Club Fire. This is a place we’ve played before - and all I really remembered was parking lots and fences and industry. Pulling up yelp on my iPhone (yelp has saved me many a time - although I typically cross-reference and reference for food when I really want something good). Really surprisingly… Jackson had tons of amazingly-reviewed restaurants. 

Was my initial impression of Jackson a completely mis-led, typical-touring-band misconception of what could have been an amazing food visit last time? (Un)fortunately. Yes.

It was hot that day. Corey, Paolo and I were wandering in basketball shorts, tank-tops (me, a hoodie as well; stupidly I know, but I always cover my tattoos in the sun to keep 'em fresh) looking for anything. What’s this? We’re approaching a massively-well-reviewed by all sources restaurant? Picture me all but leaping up and down like a kid in a toy shop to Corey and Paolo, pleading that we go to this place I found online.

Corey takes off. Perhaps the heat, perhaps the Heafy-nagging. Paolo toughs it out. We head into Parlor Market. 

Parlor Market is exactly what I love currently in the New American-style of food. I basically compare everything and everywhere in this genre of restaurant to my normal haunt back home, The Ravenous Pig (one of my favorite restaurants in the world - but we’ll save that for another episode). Parlor looks like an old building that has been impeccably modernized and renovated, all while keeping very comfortable, unpretentious. 

It has that vibe of a friend’s mom’s kitchen mentally, but with newly-finished exposed-duct work, clean-modern furniture, exposed brick… the kind of things I’m a sucker for; open view-able kitchen - operating like a silent-machine, fantastic typography in the menus… and what’s this I see? Classic cocktails? Let me live here. Cancel the show - I’m staying here. 

I ordered something to help beat the 105-degree heat: The Hemingway Daquari - grapefruit juice, lime juice, maraschino liqueur, white rum. Whether girly or not - anything with maraschino liqueur will have me ordering it. Side note: amazingly, on a Bourdain episode, he said while in Cuba, that he “was pretty sure Hemingway was hung like a hamster.” Sorry - just came to mind… hahaha.

I felt half like a jerk - I was dressed like I just came from a middle-school sleep-over in a restaurant who had been more than accommodating to me, but the Hemingway erased that. We started with Mussels and Matchsticks, Country Captain style. This was the modernized spin on something so iconically classic that I’m always in to. Moules Frites essentially, but done with super-crispy matchstick-style frites; a spicy broth, perfectly done mussels. I guess when thinking of “New American” food, it’s the idea of taking the old greats and spinning them to be what is that area. When you think Mississippi, I think spicy, hot, bold, salty - that’s what they did here with their dishes: Classics, done unpretentiously Jackson.

Looking at these photos, I realize they’re all iPhone - I didn’t know the glory I’d be stumbling upon for my lunch, and it came in the form of: The Mississippi Rabbit Sausage Roll - House-made Rabbit Sausage, white cheddar, caramelized onions and peppers, creole aioli served with russet potato friers and a house-made dill pickle. If you’ve ever gone to a restaurant with me, if you’ve read this blog before, if you know me as an acquaintance - you’d know this sandwich is me. 

I’ve had a passion for anything involving sausage, peppers and onions since seeing Goodfellas for the first time (you know how in that movie they pretty much say “the sausage and the peppahs!” every 12 minutes in the beginning); I love everything “house-made.” It’s a simple concept, and all restaurants should make their product. I love game-meats, sharp cheeses, fried fries that aren’t freezer-bag fries… ugh. Excuse my over-excitement about this place/dish… but yeah - Parlor Market was one of the best meals I’ve had in the USA; gourmet without pretentiousness, familiarity combined with something new. 

So there are some little stops down the way for ya’ll.

Reroute To 2112

(Gothenburg, Sweden)

Touring in a band can be a crazy thing. Somedays you find yourself in whole new places, seeing new sights and people never really imagined before; eating and drinking things you can’t pronounce; playing concerts with bands from all over the globe. I still recall being in 8th grade geography class and learning about where Sweden is… never did I think I’d be there pretty much yearly. 

Metallica’s Black Album got me into metal, and was my gateway into metal bands - but flash forward a few years after my initial introduction to the genre, after trying out for Trivium, around age 14/15 or so, into the glory days of Napster (when it was still around)…

I was browsing about when someone over Napster sent me “Jotun” by In Flames. I awaited the file transfer, hit play - and something happened… I’ve never heard music done like this before - yeah, I’ve heard all the bands from Metallica through Slayer and made myself quite familiar with all the USA/UK classic-metal bands - but never have I heard it done like this. It had what sounded like screaming-singing, beautiful melodies layered under-neath that sang like foreign-folky melodies unlike any sort of music I had yet to hear. The juxtaposition of such intense brutality and such enchanting melody showed me something special… this was a turning point for me.

I quickly looked up their entire catalogue online, bought every album available at the time (everything from Lunar Strain to Clayman was currently out) and waited impatiently for everything to show up at my local CD stores that I special ordered them to. I was hooked on In Flames… on this “Gothenburg-style” music, on “Melodic Death Metal” (is it was initially named). Metal wasn’t quite what it is today, so I found myself purchasing everything In Flames on eBay possible (bootlegged VHS tapes, merch, posters). 

When Reroute To Remain came out, it again changed the game for me. Applying the techniques learned from this album, I began attempting the sing/scream swap that became such a signature in Trivium. Without albums like The Jester Race and Whoracle and Reroute, I feel I would not be here today. 

Jump forward a few years: 2005, 2006, 2007 - Trivium had the privilege of touring with In Flames. Forward in time again in time: another summer tour together in 2011; to the present winter tour, where we have a European and UK tour with the band. Next year we will tour North America and Australia together as well. 

Needless to say, each one of these tours is a dream come true - and the fact that we’ve all became buddies over the years is pretty amazing too. 

Within the last 5-6 years or so, I’ve began to take my love for food to a whole new level: learning to cook, writing and photographing food and food culture from around the world, and being really into attempting to devour anything that is of cultural food-significance to any and every place in the world. Amazingly, I hear online one day that Peter and Bjorn from In Flames have opened a restaurant in their hometown, Gothenburg. 

I was invited to come down to 2112 at the beginning of the European tour, and found myself heading over there on the day of the Gothenburg, Sweden show. The show’s pre-sale was at about 8,000 or so, and I was about to go eat some killer food (not a bad day at all, my friends). 

2112 is tucked away in an area where the locals go; an area lined by old stone and brick roads, away from the touristy areas - but still very much so in the city; the surrounding-lining buildings look like old Europe/Scandinavia, but newly renovated and modern inside. 

It’s a nondescript little rectangle with the monicker “2112” that greets you on the walk in; a large window from the outside shows you the people happily tucked inside. When you walk in, it’s very welcoming - people all sat and standing nearby each other. This place feels communal: it’s in the air, it’s in the vibe of the customers and staff alike… you see that this is where the locals go. Very clean, organized, modern - while still feeling at-home. 

At first - it’s the bar with seating around it, some tables packed with people eating and drinking happily; walk up the a short batch of stairs into a still-very-open dining area. Clean decor, good lighting. Further in is another sort of private lounge room, adorned with In Flames photos and awards, pictures of some really impressive guests and friends of the restaurant; then to the left is the cellar (packed with all craft, local, micro-brew beers) and the kitchen. 

When I first arrive, I bust out a quick little solo-interview, then I am greeted by Bjorn and Peter who give me a tour of the beer-stock and the kitchen. 

Bjorn explains that the idea behind their beer-stock was to carry beers that had something special going on (I was very happy to see no Bud Light or Coors Light here) - things like micro-brew/craft beers from the USA; little independent, small batch breweries from neighboring European countries, beers that the guys describe as “beers that go great with the food." 

The kitchen is meticulously organized - always a great sign of a great restaurant; the chefs diligently working on the intense lunch rush orders (the whole 2112 is packed full of people going to the show later - not bad for business at all I must say). We pop out of the kitchen, and the owners grab me a beer, The Bistro Lager - brewed by chefs and brew masters to get a beer that goes great with food. 

We chat over the name of the restaurant and the originations. One day, in Taiwan - Bjorn and Peter were chatting over what to do during their upcoming year off; Peter says to Bjorn, "I want to open a restaurant.” Bjorn to Peter, “I want to open a bar.” Thus, the idea of 2112 was born. The vibe of the restaurant/bar is something familiar yet modern - incorporating feels of slow food, local/organic/sustainable when possible - things that go with things. This is definitely a welcoming place - you feel right when you walk in, that you’re supposed to be here (hell - I booked a flight just so I could experience this place at night when I got back from the  adventure). 

Anders from In Flames soon joins us, we sit and prep to eat. 

The first course was house-made duck sausage, foie gras, orange marinated in star anise, brioche and pistachios. Fantastic presentation, fantastic taste. I am always a big fan of any type of sausage, especially when house-made - certainly a change of pace and a new idea for sausage, utilizing duck. The foie was soft, full of flavor, and exactly everything that a cut of foie gras should be. The brioche was light, crisp, and had a nice butter-rich-bite. The star anise-marinated orange slices complimented the game-meats very well, the pistachios were a perfect extra crunch to finish. 

We polished off our original beers, and moved to the Piston Head from here (then Modus Hopperandi after that). Anders and I chatted on everything from Sweden’s obvious amazing influence on all metal from around the world to food, to beer and scotch and cocktails. I shared that without In Flames and At The Gates (Anders from ATG/The Haunted was here as well with us), I really feel American and British Metal bands nowadays wouldn’t be around - those two bands truly shaped everything that would be the blueprint of what’s happening nowadays with music. 

Our main course was the braised ox-cheek with mushrooms, smoked pork, morel sauce, potato puree’ and roasted garlic. This was something special. The ox-cheek sliced simply with the side of your fork - texturally somewhere along the lines of an all-day roasted pot roast. The flavor of the meat was bold, not gamey; the gelatinous little fat bits were mouth-meltingly phenomenal. The mashed potatoes here are one of Bjorn’s favorites, and I can see why - this stuff was airy, whipped perfectly; just a hint of garlic and butter in the background. Great stuff. 

The use of the morel sauce and mushroom/smoked pork could have been the only thing I ate there, and I would have been happy. That morel sauce was delectable. It went with the meat, the potatoes, by itself… with the other mushrooms. A creamy, meaty-flavored sauce covered the morels. The smoked pork/mushroom side was another favorite of mine; such a perfect combo of chewy-good smoked pork (not unlike a good, thick bacon) and shrooms was really too good to not finish entirely.

Our desert was creme’ brulee, white chocolate crisp, and pistachio ice cream. Already full, but absolutely in need of eating this beautiful assortment, Anders and I dug in. The creme’ was done perfectly - a crisped lid atop the delicate cream tasted exactly how an amazing creme’ brulee should taste. That white chocolate crisp was so. damn. good. Really sweet, really rich. Milky, sugary, chocolatey, velvety, but also softened-crispy. This was like a white-chocolate, flattened, gourmet rice-krispie-treat; but 100 times better. 

Pistachio ice cream is my current favorite flavor of ice cream in the world - and this one was just like everything else in 2112: just as it should be. The berry sorbet to the side of the pistachio went perfect with it. All the flavor pairings here made sense in just the right way.

The experience at 2112 was truly fantastic. Being here, you feel at home. You feel like you’re around friends, in a community of like-minded people who all want to eat and drink something good. My life philosophy is that I don’t eat to live… I live to eat. You could come here, not meet the owners, not know their ethos - eat and drink a meal here… and know that Bjorn and Peter live to eat. You can see it in the food, in the drink, in the staff, in the restaurant and bar. I truly enjoyed my time here and can’t wait to get back. 

Pennsylvania and Food and Paolo’s Aunts and Uncles

(New Richmond, Pa; Lock Haven, Pa)

Part I. (Part II is the entry directly below)

I write to you today from gate 14 at the Helsinki Airport. The bus, band and crew are floating somewhere between Turku and Stockholm on a party-ferry - why am I here? Let’s try to recap quickly….

We finish the Dream Theater tour, we break for 5 days at home, we fly to Milan to begin 6 headlining shows before adjoining to the support Euro-tour/ us-headline UK tour with In Flames. We show up in Milan to a bus that isn’t the one we ordered (before the tour, our tour manager, Brian Griffin - helped us pick a pretty good bus via pictures and descriptions online from the bus company, MZ). But yeah - this wasn’t the right one. This bus was a crummier one that we’d been on 3 years prior that - it had leaky air-vents then.

So the bus wasn’t right… easy fix? Nah - flash forward two weeks - still in it. Turns out the driver has never really driven in Europe before, he’s a rough driver, a bad parker, sorta not-all-there, and then (icing on the christmas pudding) he knocks off the tailpipe of the exhaust while I was mini-vacationing in Warsaw with some friends and doesn’t get it fixed.

I show up to a gas chamber. This German-engineered machine’s tiny coffin-bunks are now all coated in a nice velvety-diesel-fume. I go to the driver and ask “Uh… what is this smell? Is this gonna kill us? When are you fixing it?” His reply: “Oh. Nein Nein. Dees ist no problem. You all vill be fine.” Hmm.

I spend a night in the chambers of Klausschwitz (as Paolo so appropriately named it) and wake up with a chest-like-iron-lung-asthma, eyes covered in a film… I can’t breathe, speak… I run outside into the freezing Stockholm streets in basketball shorts coughing like a geriatric with emphysema who won’t kick the cigs. 

Now… this bus had already tested all of our limits with things like: a trailer that was too small to fit all our gear in (forcing us to half divide luggage between trailer and luggage bays), bunks that all varied in size, a bunk (our TM’s) that leaks super freezing air when everyone else’s bunks are hot, and the newest addition of everyone suffering from black lung. 

My options in my head were these: 1. Throw the coffee machine through the front windshield (a plausible, yet maybe not the most rational of ideas) or 2. Book some plane tickets and get off the WMD-on-wheels. I said F the roaming charges and quickly booked a flight the hell out of there. 

I booked it so I could stay out of the thing with enough buffer days that that machine ought-to-be-fixed when I return. He just fixed it yesterday. I heard it ended up getting so bad that no one could even go anywhere near the back of the bus on the inside of the bus. 

Sorry boys… ya’ll shoulda flown.

Flash back to Mayhem. 

We finished up the show nearest to New Richmond, Pa (I do not recall which city that was) and met up with two of Paolo’s uncles: Jan and Bill to go grab some grub. We piled into the car and headed to the Front Street Cafe’. 

This was a total locals joint: local folk band playing (which was so good I audio recorded them), a clientele that all seemed to match each other (Paolo and I must have looked like Martians), all locally made sweets and beers on tap - this was going to be perfect. Started off with a sort-of-local beer, the Rivertown Brewing Company Hop Bomber from Cincinnati, Oh (which is close, right?) and the Gumbo.

I am not picky with beers when you’re talking local - and bring on the hops if it’s hop-time. Fantastic stuff. If I remember correctly - they were out of the Gumbo (maybe that’s why I couldn’t dig up a pic). My main was the Pasta Lafayette: andouille sausage and shrimp, roasted red peppers and garlic with a touch of Thai chili in a spicy cream sauce; served over penne pasta. Solid stuff. 

Once again, proof that you can find local, good options when you search for it.

The next day, we had a day off near Paolo’s aunt and uncle, Gemma and Tony, who live close to Paolo’s other uncle and aunt, Gio and Linett. We’ve had many-an-amazing-day-off in the past with Paolo’s aunts and uncles in the Lock Haven, Pa area. Any time we have a day off near by - it always means food, booze, and fun stuff with the extended bloodline of the Paolo-family. 

Gemma picked us up and brought us to her place for some home-made snacks, access to a washer/dryer (much needed amidst a nasty-hot summer-tour), and a hang with her amazing pets. Since I’m forced to be away from Miyuki so much, anytime I see a Frenchie (like Gemma’s amazing Ogee) - it’s hang-time. We ate, showered, cleaned our clothes, played with the animals, then prepped for a hang-session with Gio and Linett.

Paolo spent a lot of his life in the Lock Haven area, so it’s always amazing to see the spots that a best friend/band member grew up in. Gio is one of the coolest uncles-I’ve-never-had. This man: is hilarious; hunts like Ted Nugent; is (essentially) the Mayor of Lock Have; is a badass; cuts hair like an artist; is someone who I consider a family member to me. Oh yeah… forgot to mention: intensely good cook. 

We had lots of plans for the day, but first was to hit the Texas Restaurant, a local institution since 1918. Paolo, Gio, all the cousins, relatives - have all hit this place quite a few times in their day; and it was my introduction to the Texas. 

I started with fries covered with gravy and cheese (I know, right?) and The Growler: A chili-cheese hotdog with onions and other bits. This is some fantastically greasy, soul-filling, indulgent-goodness. I scarfed it all down with ease. I love these greasy-spoon old diners that have been sitting in their same spots for years. Everyone recounted fantastic adventures of being hammered and coming to the Texas for some perfect drunk-food. 

The next spot to hit was the Susquehanna River, a River that we’ve all spent time in together previously and one that Paolo and his relatives all have spent years visiting. We picked up some booze from a local spot and headed to Gio’s boat. We floated around for several hours, drank beers and swam till we started working up an appetite again. 

(continued below…)

Pennsylvania and Food and Paolo’s Aunts and Uncles

(New Richmond, Pa; Lock Haven, Pa)

Part II. (Part I is the entry right above)

The plan from here was for Gio to brainstorm a menu, pick up the ingredients from a local grocer, and then head to his pad to eat. I warned Gio earlier that I’d be documenting his every move for the food-blog. 

Tonight, Gio had planned for us:

- Chicken livers with roasted red peppers in marinara sauce with mushrooms and bacon

- Venison cheese-steaks with provolone

- Stew meat chunks of venison with coriander and olive oil

- Chicken thighs with rosemary, thyme and oregano in a white wine sauce

- Wine 

- Limoncello

To start, we had venison sausage and cheese, a bean dip with peppers, and then another dip with chips.

I really dig the way Gio hunts… everything he hunts, he utilizes to the fullest extent. There is a local Amish butchery that will take the meat that the hunters get, and turn it into things like jerky, sausage, cured meats, really anything you tell them to make it in to. So all the venison we would be eating tonight was all hunted by Gio himself. Venison is Paolo’s favorite meat in the world - and I can see why. I imagine growing up here, there was always a bountiful spread of delicious venison charcuterie year round. Not a bad thing at all!

The starters were fantastic. I love all sausage-type anything. The home-made dips were delicious. Being able to see the dishes from initial idea, to improvisational recipe, to final product was really cool for me. At this point (and still now) I think of cooking like I do with music: I don’t know the formalities on all of it, but I prefer to learn at the basic form of just trying and watching and absorbing. 

The stew meat chunks had a nice graininess to the bite. I love textural things in food - things where you don’t know what it’s going to be like; that it’s not the typical or familiar. These stew chunks were a just slightly gamey (bring on gamey flavors for me) and tender and simple - great stuff. 

Venison cheese steaks! That stuff was killer. I love cheese steaks and old style comfort foods like this. The use of venison made it 10 times healthier than your standard cheese steak, and it had that oh-so-delicious-just-hunted-by-your-buddy-vibe going on.

When Gio was initially inquiring what we wanted to eat, I assumed he’d have some offal - unfortunately - that stuff goes quick, so we did store bought chicken livers - still fantastic nevertheless. Another typical dish that is a favorite of mine is sausage and peppers. The chicken liver prep was not unlike sausage and peppers, and it was really a show stopper. Paolo isn’t into offal… so more for me. The chicken was simply prepared - the way I like it. It was juicy, perfect. 

Everything was guzzled down with red wine and laughing and reminiscing about other times we’ve eaten and drank; at one point, I was remarking to Paolo’s uncle Tony about how much I loved his classical acoustic guitar that I’d been playing at he and Gemma’s place earlier. When Tony heard this, he said “Let’s go get it!” We piled into his SUV, drove over, and he gave me the guitar. My jaw dropped - that was so freaking cool. I have been jamming that thing ever since. 

As we all became full, it was time for some icy Limoncello shots - always a good idea to finish a delicious meal with loved ones with some alcohol. Damn good.

Paolo and his family alike treat me like family every time I’m around and I very much-so look forward to our next adventure together.