Canadian White House?? Really??

The whole team was invited to a cocktail party in the Parliament building.  “What’s the Parliament building?”  Well, according to the locals, it’s the Canadian equivalent of the White House, or maybe the Capitol Building.  Wow, was I excited for this.  Beluga Caviar!!  Champagne!!  All sorts of fancy little finger foods, tuxedoes, debutantes, and Nick Carbone, right there in the middle…

…not exactly.  I’m not gonna make any snobby comments.  I’m just gonna describe what I saw and leave the judgments up to you.

The architecture in this place was impressive, old, and charming.  The room we had the party in was, hrmmm, I guess I’ll say more like my grandma’s living room.  Hey, my grandma’s living room is cozy.  I said, ok, maybe I don’t know much about décor.

Time for a drink.  Bartender, a glass of your finest champagne.  “Champagne?”  ::rolls his eyes::  “We have Coors Light, Rickards, White & Red wine.”  It’s no Veuve Clicquot but I was able to settle with a (4) glass(es) of Rickards.  Finger foods time!  Ah, there’s a server!  She has a platter, it looks like she’s carrying… are those?… are those hamburgers??  Obviously frozen sliders, with what looked like a sloppy joe mixture as dipping sauce, seemed to be the main hors d’oeuvre.  Next platter, frozen quiches.  Next platter, frozen pepperoni rolls?  Something like that.  When I went to the next room to find the bathroom I stumbled upon the kitchen…

No comments.  I’m no snob…

…no really, I’m not saying anything.

I love food and women. Stated thusly, I love Quebec.

Ok so thusly isn’t a word.  What are you one of those grammar freaks?  Go fuck ya-self.  I’m in a bit of a sad mood being that I’ve left what I believe to be the greatest province of Canada:  Quebec.  Land of snow, artisanal cheeses, francophone beauties, French bistros, and dare I say Christmas.  The warm feeling of the x-mas season was with me these past couple weeks.  The lights, trees, clothes, and snow lined everything brought the holidays to life.  Here’s one of Chris’s panoramic shots of old Montreal before our show was cancelled due to protestors (damn hippies):

The only thing I can say correctly in French is “Je ne comprend pas” which means, “I don’t understand.”  Who would have thunk(yea) that most of this province does not speak English.  Although it was pretty difficult in the northern parts, the countryside, the mountain towns, where we had to get by with twenty words of French, I think we did pretty well.  “Je voudrais (point to menu), avec frites, sans mustard.”  We also had the help of our two adorable Quebec natives who were adamant about us speaking the language to get by.  How can you say no to these faces?

Our first night, Chris and I decided to jump right into the language and only speak to our waitress in French.  “Ok, no English, no pointing to the menu, we can do this.”  The waitress came over.  “Uhhh…uhhhh…..I’ll have the risotto.”  Alright, alright, it was a pretty shitty fold of the cards, but it was our first night in a long while to get a good meal.  We didn’t wanna screw it up.  Escargots in pastry with a brandy pepper sauce, seafood risotto, and a fine glass of vanilla ice cream garnished with a magical cherry I’ve never seen before.  Chris fell in love with the server, something that would happen often.  There’s something about French Canadian women.  They are captivating.

Another night Manny and I hit a tapas bar.  Beautiful waitress?  Check.  Menu and wait staff entirely French?  Check.  Typical.  Still managed to get a great meal.  You can’t go wrong with small plates.  Spiced ribs, goat cheese & pesto bruschetta, and parmesan fondue… which is not fondue.  Go figure.  By fondue they mean a fried cheese dish consisting of mostly cheddar and a bit of parmigiano.  An unexpected flip of the script, but tasty.

Before arriving in Montreal, I made sure I watched the Anthony Bourdain No Reservations episode on Quebec, so that I wouldn’t miss a hot spot.  In this episode however, he only goes to one place I’d be able to visit: a poutine joint called La Banquise.  I had completely forgotten about this when our two escorts for the evening (more beautiful French-canads) coincidentally brought us there to grab late night poutine.  I flipped out once I realized I was in the place Bourdain went to and that I was sitting in the very seat (or close to) where he sat!  Listen folks, this stuff needs to be shared, because I could only get down about three forkfuls of nastiness before my stomach began screaming at me.  I think poutine might be on my list of things to stay away from, especially after a few beers.

If you know me well, you’ll know I’m not a big dessert buff.  I like light pastries, Italian pastries that aren’t sweet, maybe even bland.  Cakes and heavy stuff aren’t usually up my alley.  I will now make a big exception to that.  Pouding Chômeur.  This is sort of like bread pudding except its only ingredients are clouds, heaven, and happiness.  Just make sure you try some in your lifetime.

On my day off I had the pleasure of spending my day with Kimy, an awesome girl who wanted to show me around Montreal despite the blizzard that was pummeling the city.  For lunch we decided on crêpes.  Homerun.  No description needed.

Looking for shelter from the blizzard, we decided to hit up the Biodome, an indoor zoo where you can TASTE INSECTS!!!  Sadly, the insect exhibit is only open in the summer, so we did not get to munch on crunchy things.  We did get to talk to some birds though.  They weren’t very chatty.

This is a bread grill.  Don’t ask.

I had a great day with Kimy, and for one of the first times in my life I felt a bit of regret in saying goodbye.  Crazy, I know, I may actually have human emotions.  I don’t believe in many things but I do believe in chemistry.  It’s simple science.

In the old port in Montreal I saw a stand where they were serving tire d’érable, frozen maple syrup on a stick.  The smell of the hot maple sold me, but the residue on my teeth means I won’t be a regular customer.

Go to Quebec.  You may taste a decadent dessert that will change your palate.  You may meet a woman who will convince you to settle down, get married, and have babies.  It’s that good.

It’s not easy to be friends with me.  I change my mind constantly.  I have few beliefs that are set in stone.  My only predictable characteristics are usually the disagreeable ones.  Yet somehow despite all of this, I am fortunate enough to always be with people who tolerate me.  This goes for my oldest friends as well as my newest friends, who have had the difficult task of becoming acclimated to my habits rapidly.

I’ve lived both selfishly and selflessly and haven’t found the right balance between the two (and if you know me recently you’ll know I don’t believe in a right or wrong way of living anyway.)  Contradictory, no?  Manny says I’m reckless, and having tripped up badly a few times recently I can’t say he’s wrong.  I’m sure I cause my parents great stress with my decisions as well, and they’re saints for supporting me.  The bottom line is, despite my mistakes which I learn from constantly, I’ve been quite happy the way I’ve been living and making choices lately.  But I rarely show my gratitude for those around me who allow me to be this way and don’t ask for anything different.  So,

to all my friends,

THANKS

“Happy Thanksgiving Day!!”

My French Canadian roommates wished us a very “happy thanksgiving day!!” knowing that the boys and I would be missing home on a key American holiday.  Now, let’s face it, this holiday is sort of a cover-up for the genocide and war our ancestors unleashed on the natives, and as with all things patriotic, I’m not a big fan.  BUT! As much as I’d like to oppose tradition, as much as I’d like to say thanksgiving dinner isn’t for me… it is.  I’m a sucker for comfort:  Comfort food, comfort wine, comfort music (the pre-mature Christmas music that really kicks up a notch on this day.)  Jesus, for one day, let me indulge!

Part of the coca-cola team made us reservations at the local pub to get a turkey dinner.  Unfortunately the plates were served as-is, so I had to eat my mashed potatoes with gravy on them (first time ever!)  eh.  I don’t like mixing stuff.  Gravy is for meat.  Turnips, no thanks.  Carrots, no thanks.  Got my turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and even processed cranberry sauce (the only fake food item I truly enjoy.)  After dinner was a fine pumpkin pie which really sealed the deal. 

My grandpa told me on the phone yesterday, “Don’t worry, we have plenty more thanksgivings and Christmases ahead of us!!”  True, but I know I’m gonna miss the holiday season in NY.  It’s so f-ing cozy.

Caribou Steak and Arctic Mountain Hiking

The northern territories of Canada were never on my list of places to see, and if it wasn’t for this gig I probably would have never come.  It’s a fact that less than 1% of Canadians make it up here in their lifetime, and less than 1% of New Yorkers have ever heard of Nunavut.  Whitehorse is probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been.  Yellowknife had just about the nicest people I’ve ever met.  Iqaluit was the coldest I’ve ever been in my life.  That’s a lot of #1’s.  Blog-worthy stuff.  Take a look at some of the pictures we got.  They sum up where I’ve been the past week and what it’s been like.  Cold.

On our last night in Iqaluit, the boys and I decided we needed to hit the snow and see some cool shit before we left the north and return to normal civilization.  We trekked about a mile down the road to find a good restaurant we heard about.  You would think it would be easy to reach one of the towns most popular establishments, but for some reason we had to crawl on a pipeline, dangling precariously over the icy edge to cross a ravine separating the main road and the restaurant.  I hit my Indiana Jones stunt quota for this year.

After a few days without decent food I was happy to be in a fine dining room where I would get to try a new type of meat:  Caribou.  This might be normal for some, but I don’t know where the hell in New York anyone’s serving this stuff.  Oh, and for those of you who don’t know, caribou is reindeer.  Tee hee hee.  Ladies and gentlemen, sirloin of Rudolph is one of the TASTIEST THINGS I’VE EVER HAD.  So tender and flavorful, it put a lot of my experiences with beef to shame.  We also got an order of musk ox stew, which was very comparable to beef stew.  After the caribou, I wasn’t too impressed with musk ox.

When I got back to the hotel I googled some pictures to see what animals met their maker for my fabulous meal:

Being our last night and not having accomplished anything on our to-do list, we decided to head out into the wilderness and try to catch a glimpse of the northern lights.  Keep in mind, everyone in town for the past two days had been telling us we will never be able to see it because of too much ambient light and not a clear enough sky.  But the clouds had cleared up, so we knew if we were gonna have a shot at seeing this natural wonder, it would have to happen right then and there.  We knew which direction to head, towards the edge of town and up a small mountain where Iqaluit civilization ends.  It was the only spot with no ambient light from street lamps, houses, or the airport.  It took us a good hour but we made it halfway up the mountain side.  We stopped to take a breather, shivering from the -30 degree wind and snow.  By now we had noticed, I shit you not, icicles hanging from our eyelids.

Manny frozen solid

We looked up, saw a ton of stars and a few clouds, but nothing that resembled Aurora Borealis.  We were bummed, but decided it would be a shame to go this far and not climb all the way to the top.  After another painful hike, we looked up again and saw a dim green streak across the sky.  “IS THAT IT?! IS THAT IT?!”  Now we were running, full force, knee deep in snow, to try to get to the top of this monstrous mountain.  I tell you it was ten stories high if it was a foot!!  Now exhausted and at the summit, we looked up again and saw the crystal clear, luminescent green shimmering stripe.  Some people live in areas where they see this every night outside their homes.  I do not.  This was worth the effort.  Manny thrust his fists into the air shouting in excitement and disbelief.  Apparently it was wise of us not to trust the advice of the locals.  We tried several times to take pictures, but with lousy point and shoot digi cams, no luck.  I don’t really care though, I saw it.  Northern Lights:  Check.

There were very interesting experiences last week.  I’ve definitely never had to drum outdoors under extreme conditions like that before.  Although we had a lot of pleasurable times, there were a few disappointments on this trip.  We did not get to see any polar bears.  Didn’t get to go dog sledding.  The guy who told me he would sell us fresh seal meat for breakfast never showed up.  You would think black market seal traders would keep their word wouldn’t you?  Either way, this was a great trip with great friends.

I’m now in Newfoundland, much more normal living than in the north.  Everyone’s taking part in some ridiculous ritual called getting “Screeched in” where you take a shot, kiss a fish, and declare yourself an honorary citizen of Newfoundland.  No thanks college boys, I’ve never been into the fraternity thing.

Eating really well in the middle of nowhere: Priceless.

I spent the last two days in Yellowknife, NT, Canada. This place is remote, and I’m talking top-of-the-world remote. Look it up on google maps. Everything here is imported and EVERYTHING is expensive. But do you really think I’d ever consider surviving on ramen noodles? I knew this place had some tricks up its sleeve.

Dinner @ the hotel restaurant
“There are few pleasures in life like softened butter.” Profound. Manny put it perfectly. I could easily live on bread and butter. If that is in fact what they serve in jail I’m not so afraid of incarceration. From the moment the bread basket arrived at our table I knew we were in for a meal; you can always tell at that point. The appetizers came (and went fast.) Prosciutto wrapped shrimp, crab cakes, and bacon wrapped scallops (Manny’s first scallop.) I was relieved to be eating real food again for the first time in almost two weeks. Then it arrived, my very first experience of arctic char, grilled to just-firm-on-the-outside & soft-on-the-inside perfection, topped with a lemon cranberry butter sauce. A LEMON CRANBERRY BUTTER SAUCE!! Just look at it. I don’t even need to tell you how awesome it was.
Meal total: $50

Lunch in town
For lunch the next day we had a couple hours to kill, and being that we dropped a decent buck on dinner the night before, we decided to be frugal. Yellowknife is small, and I’d bet we walked through almost the whole town looking for a cheap lunch. This was not an easy task. We walked into a place that held what I will say was the grossest pizza I have ever laid eyes on. Manny settled for a subway meatball parm sandwich FOR 12 BUCKS!! Outrageous. I lucked out and found a small Lebanese takeout joint. Yet again did I find a diamond in the rough. Chicken shawarma with hummus, tabouleh, tahini sauce, and hot sauce on a pita wrap. Ohhhh my god. This was so good I can’t even describe it. I decided to take a picture of just the wrapped gift because the contents were so beautiful your head would explode.
Meal total: $12

Dinner @ the Olympic torch celebration site
At this point I was really running low on funds, and after performing on stage in 0 degree weather, I was pretty damn hungry. I walked up to a couple stands where they were selling food and what did I find? BBQ pulled pork sandwiches. Dare I try a southern staple all the way up here in the tundra of the Northwest Territories? Well it turns out the nice cook was so impressed with our drumming that he decided to give us each a hefty serving of pork-on-a-bun. HOLY SHIT. This was good. One of the best I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a lot. This just goes to show you, cuisine origin and authenticity mean jack.
Meal total: FREE!!

In closing, no matter where you are, you never have to settle for shitty food.

Nick Carbone – Ghost Hunter???

I don’t believe in ghosts. Good way to start this post. I’m not saying that shit’s not real, but I haven’t seen the evidence. Oh, and those ghost hunting shows on TV are embarrassing. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?!” No. Nobody did.  BUT!, I tend to believe most of what I read on the internet. And if there are lengthy articles written about my current hotel being haunted, I’m going to at least check it out.

From what I read, Victoria is the most haunted city in B.C. (although I really wonder who gauges that sort of thing.)  The Fairmont Empress is a landmark for ghost tours.  Apparently the original architect of this place pays the guests a visit time to time.

First things first: this place is SWANKY.  Old school swanky, too.  Huge ceilings even in the guest rooms, old antique wooden furniture lining the hallways, glass chandeliers, a crystal ballroom, a piano player for most hours of the day, etc…  And, you know, all this is great, but when the walk to your room reminds you of “The Shining” you know somethings just not right.  Check out these two photos of two separate hallways.  They are almost identical, long, and utterly creepy:

This place is a freakin’ maze.  One time during my stay I got out of my room, turned around, and couldn’t find my way back.  I passed the same maid about three times from three different directions looking for the elevators.  I knew if I was ever gonna go for a late night ghost tour, this was the place to do it.

I walked through almost every square foot of guest-accessible space in this enormous castle.  No ghosts.  Well, I did pass this picture and I’m pretty sure it did that thing where its eyes followed me:

Just to give you an idea of just how big this place was, I videotaped a full walk through of the 6th floor (almost all of it):

It is pretty disappointing to spend a good 45 minutes looking for something paranormal and not finding it.  Oh well.  Still a non-believer.

It’s DONE!!

We finally finished our music video.  It took about 2000 man hours and lots of Stacy’s Pita Chips (naked, nothing but sea salt.)  See below.

 

“I shall return.”

Me:  “Leavin’ saturday.  I’m gone!”

Grandpa:  “Don’t say that.  You gotta say, ‘I shall return.’  That’s what General McArthur said.”

Me:  “General McArthur?”

Grandpa:  “Yea.  That’s what he said when he left the Philippines.”

Me:  “Well did he ever return?”

Grandpa:  “…I think so.”

Hey Doc, could you point that X-ray machine any closer to my brain?

2:00 am – My House

Me: “What just happened?”
Matt: “You just slammed your face into the concrete!”
Ant: “Your head bounced like a basketball.”
Me: “This isn’t really happening is it?”
Ant: “It is, and you need to stop laughing.”
Ali: “Nicky, you need stitches.”

2:30 am – Emergency Room

Nurse: “What happened exactly?”
Me: “I really don’t know.”
Nurse: “Well you’ve been drinking, right?”
Me: “Hey, I never said that, you’re just assuming.”
Nurse: “I’m not assuming. I can smell the alcohol.”

3:00 am – My House

Ali: “Ok, hunny, we’re gonna go. Your keys are next to the TV and your tooth is in your jewelery box.”

11:00 am – Phone Call (with my good dentist)

Receptionist: “The dentist won’t be in until Saturday.”
Me: “I leave Saturday morning.”
Receptionist: “I don’t know who will be able to see you on such short notice. You really don’t wanna go to a shady dentist office in Freeport.”

11:30 am – Shady Dentist Office in Freeport

Psycho Dentist: “There aren’t many options. I could have a temporary piece made up but that would take at least 3 or 4 days.”
Me: “Can’t you just bond it some how?”
Psycho Dentist: “No, because you chipped the adjacent tooth as well.”
Me: “I’m leaving in 2 days to perform in a show where smiling is the top priority.”
Psycho Dentist: “………….”