Before laying out the seven easy steps for fellow snack food aficionados, he establishes himself as a nacho expert.
So I like Nachos. A lot. So over the years I’ve gotten more and more obsessive with creating the perfect nacho. This is the result of years of fine tuning. Now, these are classic nachos. I know all about braised short rib nachos, piquillo peppers, etc. These are standard. However, I think the basic premise could be applied to any flavor of nacho you may desire.
This guy definitely sounds like he knows what he’s doing.He’s on a mission to spread the gospel of melted cheese and crunchy chips.
After establishing his nacho bona fides, he lays out the steps for achieving what he calls “the perfect nacho.”
There’s a lot of strong advice here. His bean recipe? Spectacular. He knows that the key to a sublime refried bean concoction is the sum of its parts. Chili beans, pinto beans, stewed tomatoes, garlic, chili pepper, and cayenne—what a harmonious mixture, improved by cooking it for a patient two hours.
However, as a fellow nacho scholar, I feel compelled to take this recipe to task. I’m nacho guy when it comes to nacho complacency—I’ve bean studying and experimenting for years as well.
My first problem with this recipe is the addition of Sriracha sauce.
Don’t get me wrong—I love the red cock sauce as much as the next guy. It adds a complexity to dumplings and mac and cheese that sometimes eludes subpar cooks. But I’m truly distraught at the idea of adding this kind of kick to nachos.
If you’re trying to create an impeccable dish, get that “kick” with a real Mexican hot sauce. There’s Pico Pica. Or perhaps Tapatío. Save Sriracha for the dining hall and tasteless takeout. It’s just offensive.
Furthermore, this nonsense with the lettuce is alarming.
The creator behind these nachos does point out that his goal is to make a bite-sized nacho, but that conflicts with the original statement of making “the perfect nacho.” So what is the truth?
If we elevate our nacho scholarship even higher, we must then question the word “perfect.”
There is no objective “perfect” in the world of nachos. “Perfect” is often relative; perfection in this sense means being able to plop a nacho into your mouth. But putting lettuce on nachos before baking is just gross. Who wants to feel the warm texture of those greens?
Finally, where’s the guacamole? If you’re already cooking at home, you might as well invest in some avocados. Forget paying extra for the scam that is one portion of guac at Chipotle.
Let this be a lesson to you all: Before you claim to have created the “perfect” recipe, do a little soul-searching and decide if that’s objectively true.
Photo via Imgur