Farm Burger, Vortex

It was a day off, parked up in a newly-gentrified, higher-end strip mall/ grocery store/ mall/ grocery store/ hotel spot in what I'm assuming to be a "ritzier" area of Atlanta - and I didn't know what to do for food. I spent the majority of the day hitting up a nearby Publix (Florida-originated grocery store chain that I love) and stocking up all groceries and bits for myself when Corey mentioned "Hey dude - I found this burger place… that you'd flip over." 

My boys know what I dig - and me and Corey have this special burger-relationship. Most of my fun gourmet outings involving Corey typically involve a delicious burger - so I knew I'd be happy come dinner time. The last chore of the day before dinner: the three axe-men of Triv needed to rehearse some acoustic songs that we'd be performing on-air the next day - so work came first.

To flash forward into the future of the next day real quickly…

I had forgotten my iPod that had my warm ups and my iPhone was being really quirky that day - so I figured… "Hey. Dio never warmed up - I shouldn't need to!" Big mistake. 

So Cocky-Heafy sat up there all nice and tall to the microphone to start up "Built To Fall" and… "You are a cancer, spreading it's ssqqqqqquuuueaaaakkkkk!!!! Uh… lemme start that over… You are a sqqqquuuueeeeakkkk!!!! Fuck. I swear this never happens." I attempt it once more… squeaks again; I leave the room in a panic - grab Paolo's warm ups, start sweating, start feelin' like a fool. It's a big deal to fuck up an acoustic performance at a major radio station when them playing your single more depends on you rocking an acoustic version.

I collect my thoughts, zen out for a sec, go in and crush it. Bam. All good.

Back into the past…

Corey's burger joint is only about a 5 second walk around the side of the hotel - and there we are: Farm Burger. It was Paolo, Corey, myself, Ken (Trivium guitar tech), and Mark (Trivium monitor engineer) seated together for dinner. Farm Burger is the kind of burger spot I am in to - hormone-free, local, well-treated hunks of delicious meat-flesh. I order at the counter: Grassfed Beef, Bacon, Sunny Side Up Egg, Pepper Jack Cheese, Salsa Verde; Farm Burger Fries (spicy garlic, herbs, parmesan); Beer Battered Onion Rings with Smoked Paprika Mayo; and the show-stopper - Fried Chicken Livers (I am a Japanese-transplanted Southerner after all). My ale was the Wild Heaven Beer from Decateur. 

The fries were covered in the perfect amount of garlic and delicious-yummy good grease. Onion rings were meaty and thick, almost more a Tempura-style covering than a flaky one. Livers - ah man… the good stuff. I'm an organ-fiend - love it. Let's face it - most food is better with a runny-ass egg on top of it. A burger is massively upgraded when topped with one. Farm Burger's burger doesn't mess around - I've mentioned before that it is pretty difficult to say exactly what's going on with a burger in specifics… but I can tell you this - this one is fuckin' good. Small hints of Mexican, Tex-Mex, and  contemporary modern American-goodness. 

Due to sheer lack of responsibility and a taste for all things gluttonous and great, I finished up with a Bacon Brittle Milkshake. Hahah! This thing took the cake. Hunks of fatty, crispy, salty, slightly still-chewy bacon hunks float in this lava-thick beverage like little pork islands. I guarantee you that this thing isn't good for you. But - when it comes to intense decadence like that drink - if I know the ingredients are from a good place, made by people who give a shit - I know it's gonna be a treat. So freakin' great. 

The next day after the radio performance, we hit up Vortex with Mark (our Roadrunner Radio master) and Darrin (RR GA radio rep), and the rest of the acoustic-viums for some burgers. 

I got one of their burgers that's allegedly so hot that it warns you several times in the description, some tots, a beer - and we were full and happy. Good stuff. 

The show that night was a blast - I played extra hard to work off all that burger-meat and fried-potatoes lodged in my arteries.