RECIPE #6: Smoove B's Carrot Chocolate Chip Muffins

So, as I may have mentioned, I now have a bona fide, 100% legit girlfriend. Not having had anyone in my life for more than 11 years who I could legitimately call a girlfriend, yes, it's a big deal. This lady is absolutely fantastic. She's intelligent, vibrant, curvy, kind-hearted, hilarious, easygoing, considerate, responsible and possesses the cutest laugh north of the Mason-Dixon. She treats me well and she doesn't wig out when I treat her well. We enjoy each other's company, and don't have any problems with each other's friends. We have a number of people and places and things in common. It's safe to say that we're in love, and it feels like it's going to last. Thus, the Charlotte Rae and mail order bride initiatives are effectively history.

As one might imagine, going more than a decade without serious mutual romantic affection can make one ill-prepared for some things. Tiny things, such as planning your schedule with someone else in mind, or how time can disappear when you're not really doing anything. My blogging was already hampered by a jam-packed schedule as of late, but although I've devoted the majority of my non-work time to my lady recently, I still write stuff. Like, the screenplays are coming along (Jorge and I are at about the halfway point of our first collaborative draft, while I'm at an impasse on my own adventure tale). I do indeed have a dandy new playlist ready to go in the player, but I need to finish my commentary. Here's a review I did of Marnie Stern's awesome debut CD - I really hope I get out of work in time to see her at the Abbey Pub on Tuesday. And, like last month, I'm sneaking this one in at the very end, but I did try out a new recipe this morning.

I was initially stumped on what to make this month. In the spirit of amorous passion, I knew I had to prepare something sexy and decadent for my woman. Perplexed, I sought advice from professional ladykiller Smoove B. If you are not familiar with Smoove B, he is The Onion's loverman columnist. He basically stepped straight out of a quiet storm hit from 1981, and he's obsessed with feeding his dates elaborate food before hitting them doggystyle on his bearskin rug. In other words, the ideal romantic role model. When I saw that his web site offers recipes for inexperienced tenderonis, my question was answered. I selected a breakfast-time treat, because, as Smoove helpfully instructs, "Many a novice love man errs on the side of putting too much emphasis on the dinner as a means of seduction." Hear, hear!

Unlike his lobster or quail (!) dishes, Smoove's recipe for carrot chocolate chip muffins didn't seem too over-the-top. The toughest thing about it is grating 1 and 1/2 cups of carrots, expecially when you don't own a grater. I like improvising, and I already had to buy a 12-muffin tin pan, so I decided to use my veggie peeler to shave the carrots into little shreds. This took longer than it would have with a proper shredder, but I consider such rigamarole to be part of the love that goes into the dish. Smoove helpfully instructs: "If you have any doubts as to whether the carrots are shredded finely enough, ask yourself, 'Are these carrots shredded finely enough?'" I did, and I concluded that they were. My special lady is definitely not some willowy, frail, fairy princess type. A woman with her energy, complexity and substance deserves more generous bites of carrot, so these were just fine.

After mixing 2 eggs with 2/3 cup of sugar, I added the carrot shreds and set the bowl aside for ten minutes. Into a new bowl went a bunch of dry ingredients. I'm talking 1 1/2 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking soda, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of ground cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg, 1/4 teaspoon of ground cloves and 1/4 teaspoon of allspice. As I did this, I pre-heated the over to 400 degrees and hit the freshly-scrubbed muffin tin pan with some Pam, preferring this to Smoove B's offered alternative, butter. Like Smoove says: "I prefer the cooking spray as it is easy and does not add flavors you may not want." Since it was early in the morning and I was still sort of groggy, I also contemplated why recipes always tell you to add a little bit of salt to sweet baked goods. I wondered about it every time I made the Amish Friendship Bread, too (three batches in all - regular, chocolate/almond and pistachio/cherry). It doesn't seem to add any flavor, so I assume it has some sort of chemical properties that help the item to cook properly. I've not seen Alton Brown address the subject yet. Anyone know the answer?

The ten minutes were up, and it was time for the final step. 1/4 cup of orange juice and 5 tablespoons of melted butter went into the egg/sugar/carrot bowl, along with 1/2 cup of Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips and 1/2 cup dry toasted, unsalted pecan pieces. These last two items were slight alterations from Smoove's recipe, as he calls for mini chips and walnuts, but I don't think he'd disapprove of my personalized version. I wanted big hunks of good milk chocolate rather than some little-bitty, waxy semi-sweet schwag. The pecans were left over from a delicious salad my lady whipped up for us a few weeks ago, and I totally prefer pecans to played-out damn walnuts, which is why they were purchased in the first place. So, all this soupy stuff went into the bowl of flour and whatnot for a final, gentle-handed mixing. From here, it was into the pan and into the oven for 15 minutes.

By this time, Sugar Bear was awake and needed a new environment. I had asked her not to come out and ruin the surprise, but I didn't get to pull Smoove's trick where you make a noise right before they're done so your lady will open her sleep-encrusted eyes to cooling muffins. She doesn't drink coffee, but I did have some herbal tea and honey to go along with her lovin' oven-baked goods. I can't vouch for Smoove B's bedroom advice, but I must admit that he doesn't fuck around in the kitchen - these things were damn tasty, a little spicy, not as sweet as a dessert but sweet enough to make you appreciate a sunny summer Saturday morning. Best of all, my effort was very evidently appreciated.

F'real, next post will accompany a new mp3 list, so listen to those songs on the right ASAP. Later in July, my lady and I plan to cook something and to write about the experience together, so watch this space for Entartete Kunst's first-ever guest contributor. Can you handle the cuteness? Fuckin' A, right, you can!

Swallowed By the Moon

4/21/07

After partying all night, things were very slow going when I awoke. This is nothing out of the ordinary for these two-day metal festivals, but since Scarecrow and I had a room on the same floor as most of the bands, I ended up staying up real late chatting with the Europeans. After much Gatorade, food and a viewing of "Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theaters," it was time for Chicago Powerfest Day Two.

Thurisaz - I spent a long time the previous night talking and partying with these Belgian dudes (more on that at my MySpace blog), and I wondered how they kept it together so well when I was still feeling queasy. Along with Suspyre, I was really glad to have discovered Thurisaz via this year's Powerfest. Theirs was a strong mix of modern Eurometal styles, with of doom, black, goth and prog all bearing an influence. Smooth, sad melodies snaked through the music, yet the undeniably heavy sections - especially the fast parts, which resembled a glorious convergence of Opeth and Enslaved - kept their set from becoming too "pretty." Thurisaz has a great handle on that quintessentially European split between choppy and flowing, growling and singing, menace and bliss, dark and light. Although the keyboards were once again somewhat buried in the mix, the quintet created an epic atmosphere in that little stage, and created an impressive precedent for the rest of the evening. I hope these guys gain the stature their expertly beguiling sound deserves.

Novembers Doom - Local favorites Novembers Doom played Powerfest in the past, but back then their British-style doom/death stuck out among all the power and prog metal acts (in fact, I also saw this happen to them the other night at the Alehorn of Power II). This year, they fit the bill perfectly, and not just because the second day was littered with more extreme styles. As I've mentioned recently in this space, Novembers Doom has evolved a bit since their initial My Dying Bride-ish romantic trudge. Over the last few albums, they've kicked up the tempo to a sort of midpaced death metal rumble, injected some thrashy guitars and jettisoned the guest female vocals. They still sound more European than American (that's a compliment), with greater attention to atmosphere and morose melody than most of their countrymen. Live, the new selections absolutely steamrolled through the hall. Vocalist Paul Kuhr sang a ballad to his little daughter, who was experiencing her first ND show up in the balcony... it was a really sweet moment, not at all what you'd expect from a bunch of frowny longhairs, yet heartfelt enough to compliment the emotional weight of the otherwise darker material. The band's entire set was a perfect bridge between the energetic, wide-ranging Thurisaz and the dolorous coma that followed...

Saturnus - The announcement of this Danish quintet was what really got me excited about Powerfest this year. I have a couple of their earlier albums, which are great examples of European doom/death. I'm talking looong, slooow, paaaiinful songs based on incredible guitar lines that stretch to the sky, with deep, anguished growls from beyond the grave. They are a supreme example of the sort of swooning sledgehammer sludge that drew me to doom/death in the first place. Soaking in Saturnus' luxurious brand of misery in a live setting is one of those things I never thought I'd experience, yet here they were. I even managed to get up to the front of the stage for a portion of the set, enabling the only decent concert photos I've yet to take with my new camera phone. Saturnus crawled through the muddy mix and the booze-soaked haze (I believe bassist Lenny Jacobsen had been awake - and drinking - for about 30 hours at that point), doling out newer, slightly less oppressive and more progressive tunes among the beautifully torturous older gems. Although Powerfest offered a lot of different musical pleasures, due to Saturnus and Solitude Aeturnus, to me it was a mighty feast of Holy Fucking Doom. And now I can look forward to Swallow the Sun when they open for my favorite band in September... somebody pinch me, lest I turn Katatonic.

Martyr - As the evening's focus shifted from atmospheric to psychotic, the Canadian favorites stepped up and blasted everyone's hair back, tearing the room out of its doom-inspired lethargy. I had only heard one Martyr album before the show, and I expected them to be cool, but I was not prepared for the insane onslaught of technical prowess they displayed. Vein-popping bursts of intricate, polyrhythmic thrash metal spilled forth with tightly-reined vitriol, surprising pockets of sonorous melody peeking out from the chopping, slashing and grinding assault. Frontman Daniel Mongrain, whose resume reads like a virtual who's-who of Canuck tech-metal (Gorguts, Cryptopsy, Quo Vadis) kept making these amazing crazyman faces, popping his eyes and leering like a madman whenever he wasn't roaring into the mic. I mostly marveled at drummer Patrice Hamelin, who often had to play an array of rhythms with various limbs even though he and I got substantially intoxicated together shortly before their set. I couldn't believe how that dude held his shit together when I was feeling so effed up. Simply put, if you like technical, aggressive metal but are unfamilar with Martyr, do yourself a favor and dive in.

Atheist - Talk about bands I never thought I'd see. Atheist broke up in 1993, once their then-unprecedented mix of death metal and jazz fusion had thoroughly confused everyone. Today, technically demanding extreme metal is actually trendy with the kids. Clichés aside, Atheist was truly ahead of its time. Having reuinted for a handful of festival gigs with members of drummer Steve Flynn's band Gnostic capably handling the guitars, this was their last-ever non-hometown U.S. appearance (unless they stay together and make another record). Atheist's participation was a coup for Powerfest, and shame on anyone who ever liked the band but wasn't there. Following up Martyr's jaw-dropping display would be tough for most bands, but these guys had it down, and being more familiar with Atheist's stuff (I have it all), I couldn't help but headbang and holler along. Vocalist Kelly Shaefer's high-pitched growl, so different from what you think of in death metal, was in pretty good shape as he bounded around the stage. Positioned where I was, I got to see a lot of bassist supreme Tony Choy, who through his stints with Atheist, Cynic and Pestilence is the linchpin of early prog-death. It was an honor to see the man play. Crackling with energy from start to finish, Atheist's set was rare case of a reunion show where nostalgia came second to in-the-now harmony. I wonder if those Cynic dates are going to be half as good.

Please take some time to enjoy the 2007 mp3s that are still in the player. I will wipe them out with my next post to make room for another lesson in metal genre greatness (you fondly remember my guide to ethnic metal from January, no?). Hey, I recently wrote some CD reviews: Dir en grey (meh) and Superchrist (yay!).

In other news, it pleased me to learn during a recent YouTube search that Mac Tonight is alive and well... in Singapore?!?

It Came Upon One Night

I will admit that I am not your typical audience member for what used to be a progressive/power metal fest. For instance, my listening on the day I started writing this included Marnie Stern's In Advance of the Broken Arm, Pulp's This Is Hardcore, Tuatha de Danann's Trova di Danú, Morbid Saint's Spectrum of Death, :wumpscut:'s Evoke, Enochian Crescent's Omega Telocvovim and Wolf Parade's Apologies to the Queen Mary. Not that I don't have a soft spot for Maiden, Priest, Helloween, Gamma Ray, (old) Queensrÿche, (old) Fates Warning and the like, but that style has not changed much during the past decade or so, even as it has enjoyed increased visibility among the metal masses. I like variety, and unbeknownst to those who don't follow it, today metal is such a diversified and long-running genre that you could feasibly only listen to metal yet still have an amazing range of sounds coming in.

That's what Chicago Powerfest 2007 offered - a little prog/power, but also traditional doom, doom/death, prog-black, modern thrash, prog-thrash, jazz-death, even some plain old heavy metal. I liked some more than others, but none of the ten bands were absolute crap. Unfortunately, the turnout was weak, and zero mainstream appeal doesn't explain it. I think the shameful answer is that the fest was too diverse for your average metalhead - too much singing, too much growling, too much slow stuff, too much fast stuff, wah wah wah. Longtime metal people generally aren't smelly, violent, uneducated burnouts, but they often live up to other stereotypes. They can be "conservative," even ignorant when it comes to music with which they're not familiar. (I'll admit to it: I can't tell you the difference between Kenny Chesney and Brad Paisley, and I hope I never can.) To someone like that, this was an intimidating lineup. To someone who enjoys a little bit of most everything heavy metal can offer in 2007, Chicago Powerfest 2007 was a feast of musicianship, cult demi-legends and shockingly good unknowns, old school and new school in delirious harmony. Hats off to the CRJ crew for running a tight ship and putting together such a great event.

4/20/07

Shatter Messiah - With onetime Nevermore fill-in rhythm guitarist Curran Murphy leading the charge, these Ohio-based guys play aggressive thrash that's more straightforward than the Seattle gods'. This stuff was a lot closer to Annihilator, with whom Murphy also played. The result was an idiosyncratic but not atypical mix of '80s songwriting and '90s attitude, something you often hear from older musicians looking to appeal to the youth market. Sometimes, this is a great mix, but in Shatter Messiah's case, it came off a little stodgy. Instrumentally, the band was pretty tight, with sharp guitar lines and rumbling rhythms that I'll admit got my neck moving. The shrieky and occasionally off-key vocals, however, kept me from enjoying the band more. The Internet tells me the singer used to be in Archtype, a solid tech-y prog/power band, so it's curious that he sounds so off in this unit. If Shatter Messiah drafted a frontman from a death or black metal background, they could have something more agreeably powerful on their hands. As it is, they're an also-ran, which is not the worst thing in the world.

Suspyre - Now, here are some young'ns who have their shit together! I was absolutely floored by these kids, who play a traditional brand of progressive power metal and hail from the same state as that genre's superstars Symphony X (New Jersey). It's super technical stuff, as might be expected from musicians trained in classical and jazz, but Suspyre also writes engaging songs which transcend the cold muso feel that keeps me from getting into a lot of prog/power acts. Their inspired guitar work toes the line between cranking out catchy melodies and showing off, so that when they unwind one of those lengthy, tech-y instrumental sections, it's actually as transcendent as intended. The vocals are of the smooth and controlled variety, suffused with passion and bliss where required. The only downside of their set was the sound, which frequently overpowered the keyboardist - she also whipped out a flute for a couple of passages, none of which could actually be heard. As for the band, Suspyre is the first traditional prog/power act I've heard in ages that really grabbed me. Maybe I should explore the current scene some more...

Benedictum - The day's most unknown act to me, San Diego's Benedictum shared a similar sense of '80s/'90s vertigo with Shatter Messiah in that their songs were moderately simple in structure, yet more aggressive in delivery than your average old school stuff. Their roughed-up cover of Dio-era Black Sabbath chestnut "Heaven and Hell" underlined this classic/modern dichotomy, which I felt worked better for Benedictum than for SM in that they didn't try to push the "heavy" angle much further than the rhythm section. I was reminded most of Doro Pesch's solo material, probably because the band's singer is a similarly gravel-throated female, an imposing woman stuffed into an uncomfortable-looking leather get-up. She comported herself like a stage superstar, and there was something overly professional in her manner compared to the band, who just seemed to be rocking out and having a good time. Benedictum's style is closer in spirit to hard rock than metal, by which I mean it's something that could be played on mainstream rock radio - or at least could have back when the format didn't exclude all hard rock except ninth-generation grunge (see: Nickelback, Alter Bridge, Chris Fucking Daughtry). For my taste, they were too plain to enthuse me greatly, but I enjoyed watching them while they were on.

Solitude Aeturnus - Our hotel was across the street from the venue, so getting blitzed wasn't a problem. I was modestly zipped by the time the doom gods from Texas lumbered to the stage, which was my intention. Never having seen them live, they were the big draw for me on the first night of Powerfest, and I wasn't let down a bit. For the uninitiated, Solitude Aeturnus is a pure doom metal band with clear, high vocals in the lineage of Black Sabbath, Pentagram, St. Vitus, Trouble, Candlemass and the like. That means the music is slow to midpaced, with mournful, ominous guitar riffs that drone and spiral into oblivion. To a listener in the right state of mind, it can be the most powerful music in the world, and it is perhaps the source from which all heavy metal emanates. Solitude Aeturnus are by no means a household name, but among doom cultists they are elite. They lived up to that reputation with a crushing set, vocalist Robert Lowe wailing balefully in priestly vestments, looking primed to take over Candlemass' vocals (he's on their upcoming album). For an hour, the outside world disappeared, replaced by an incense-scented tomb which sealed out all light. Simply amazing... this was as good as the St. Vitus reunion gig I saw in '03, and better than any time I've ever seen Sabbath.

Lethal - Reflecting Powerfest's roots as a showcase for traditional metal styles, reunited veterans Lethal curiously took the headliner spot rather than Solitude Aeturnus, who to me seemed to have the biggest crowd of the evening. What I knew of this Kentucky-based band was that they made a single album of early-Queensrÿche-sounding metal during the early '90s which is revered by all fans of that stuff, before branching off into some sort of ill-advised "edgy" and "modern" style that ticked people off. They are nonetheless a favorite of the American prog/power scene, and despite not knowing Lethal's music and being pretty much satisfied with the show after Solitude, I ended up staying for their entire set. The Queensrÿche comparisons were very apt, as the vocalist sounds amazingly like Geoff Tate and the music had the same quirky yet anthemic quality as records like The Warning and Rage for Order. It was like hearing a lost 'rÿche record from their '80s salad days, and if I had heard Lethal when they debuted I would have loved them, as I was very into this sound circa 1990. Hearing it in 2007 was definitely a blast from the past, but a pleasant one. Theirs was a strong performance, even though the audience had dwindled and the singer was obviously wasted. Like I could fault him... I was tossed myself.

Second day coverage will appear soon-ish. I'll give you my review of the shockingly good new Skinny Puppy CD to tide you over. If you have the time and ability, I urge you to check out Twelfth Gate at 9 p.m. tomorrow night at the Penny Road Pub. This is Chicago Powerfest co-organizer Rob Such's band, also featuring guitarist Jim Stopper (the only former Oppressor member who didn't go on to the bland ranks of local favorites Soil) and - as of very recently - my good buddy Scarecrow on vocals. He's amazing, folks, and since I already liked the band, his presence on the mic only makes them cooler to me. Plus, since he introduced me to the first woman with the guts to call herself my girlfriend in more than eleven years, I owe him big big. Get out there and support quality local metal!