Homemade Nachos

There is only one word to describe the nachos kindly photographed and sent in by Amanda Ciske from Wisconsin. That word is “wahey”

If these chos were a forest, they’d be a massive forest. If they were a mammal they’d be a massive blue whale covered in forest. Look, there’s fresh tomato in there! IT’S SO FRESH!

Fresh, and yet more proof that Americans do it better and England is the country where chos go to die. Amanda informed me tex mex is the main cuisine in Milwaukee, her hometown. I quote (because this is hard-hitting journalism and real journalists need quotes): “There are restaurants selling nachos on every corner, it’s a big deal.”

Every corner? I want to move to Milwaukee. In fact, let’s all go right now. You’ll probably say it’s unwise to move to another continent for gastronomical reasons, but I’m tempted. Who are you anyway? Gandhi?


The Ultimate London Nacho: Santo, Notting Hill

Where: Santo, Portobello Road W10 5TD

The size of the jalapenos sums up the boldness of these authentic, yet sort of excitingly filthy chos. Salsa? Get bent. Bean dip? Hop on. The experience was like being chafed by a sombrero to the upbeat strains of “La Cucaracha”.


The chips are hand-cut, thick and spiced. The guacamole is a chunk-fest. The cheese is warm.  The waiter fixes our wonky table with some paper and makes an amusing joke. The whole thing gets a bit overwhelming to be honest and, what? Yes, "our table". You thought I went to restaurants and ate nachos by myself? Well, occasionally, but that's for my other blog entitled Why It's Okay To Always Eat Alone.

Back to the chos in hand, where the portion size was huge and the relish plentiful, just like Jesus (I've never read the Bible). There was layering. Yes, layering not only of the cheese but of the sauce. It got to the stage where my dining partner said: "they're really wet" and I replied: "I almost want to use a fork, but I won't". This is the crux- a fork was considered, but never used, as nachos should be sauce-laden, but never to the point where a fork is a necessity. There were even some cubes of tofu on there, unobtrusively tucked to one side in the event of the eater despising tofu. What a nice protein-rich gesture.

Erm, they were £10. That's an issue, but these are seriously filling chos and I was unable to complete the main course. For anyone interested, it was a burrito which cost £350.

Ultimate London Nacho? They have to get a 5. As I’ve yet to visit every eaterie in London selling nachos, this means Santo are the Ultimate London Cho SO FAR. 

WILL THEY EVER BE BEATEN? OH THE EXCITEMENT. I’VE JUST WET MYSELF. (For more anecdotes of this nature, visit my other blog Incontinent Fun Times)

The Jalapeno Cafe

Oh look, it’s a positive review! Not of nachos, obviously, but of this damn hot recipe website I came across while casually googling “jalapenos”. Yes, I am single. But if I wasn’t, you’d never be introduced to The Jalapeno Cafe.

It’s the act of arranging, and lack of cooking, that makes the cho such a fine dish for those who fear, yknow, hobs. However, once in a while it becomes necessary to cook something– a dinner party for example- and seventeen plates of nachos doesn’t cut it.

Hey friends, I’ve casually whipped up some scrummy enchiladas. Oh and the ultimate quesadilla to start us off. And a Texan Cheese Log. That last one sounds odd but you’ll be laughing on the other side of your odd face after eating one. In a good way.

Additionally, The Jalapeno Cafe have come up with some Nacho Improvers- we’re talking homemade salsa, people. Not the stuff in a tin. MADE IN YOUR HOME. OR SOMEONE ELSE’S HOME. I’m no chef, but Incredible Salsa pretty much blew my mind out through my eyes and into the next person’s mouth.

How To Make Tortilla Chips (Ish)

Attempted to get “creative” and make tortilla chips out of wheatflour tortillas. Yes I’m playing fast and loose with the term “creative” and indeed “make” but, either way, here’s the recipe:

  • Buy round tortillas (Old El Paso were used here, but other brands are available) 
  • Cut into triangular shapes
  • Fry in loads of oil for about five minutes 
  • Eat 
Quote from observer: “Yeah they’re alright actually.”

I have a newfound appreciation for those who successfully make tortilla chips although, granted, they probably create them from bits of squashed corn and threads of sombrero’s found at crossroads next to a babbling brooks.  I’m getting confused with teenage novels about witchcraft. 

After covering the handmade chos in well distributed relish, and heating the layered cheese throughout UNDER A GRILL NOT MICROWAVED HAVE YOU LEARNT NOTHING ABOUT THE DANGERS OF CHEESE ADHESIVE?! I found them to be different, and surprisingly quite good.

Softer, yes, but that merely conjured up charming images of chewing a freshly baked, you know, baker. Burnt in places, certainly, but this added crunch and flavouring. Once I’d added a bit of salt and a pickled cats arse baked under a full moon, they were more filling and, dare I say it, wholesome tasting. Oh no wait I’ve done it again haven’t I. Ignore the bit about salt. 

Summer Nachos

Summer! I hear you cry. Summer is not for hot cheese covered chos! No! It’s for salads and smoothies and ice creams and cold things so if we accidentally spill a morsel, the result is more than pleasurable! In fact it’s very rarely accidental! WE ALWAYS THROW COLD FOOD ON OURSELVES OK AND IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL AND YOU CAN’T DO THIS IF THE FOOD IS HOT (I.E. NACHOS)

Fine, I can see things from other people’s perspectives so I’ll run with it. Whatever you’re reason for preferring colder food in the summer, whether it’s to cool down from the inside out or more directly, through rubbing yourself with iced goods, there’s a cho for all occasions.

Summer Nachos.

Unfortunately due to a technical fault, there can be no pictures to accompany this post. I’ll just have to weave images with my words. Luckily I’m a wordsmith so, here goes:

1. Loads of those scotch pancake things cut into nacho shapes with ice cream and fudge sauce on top. By “scotch pancake things” I mean, of course, “scotch pancakes.”

2. Lettuce leaves with salsa and soured cream and cheese. Inadvisable. Tastes like Gwyneth Paltrow.

3. Sliced mango with fruit compote and bits of banana on it. Refreshing and very tasty in a saintly sort of way. Doesn’t go well with salsa. Probably whap out some yoghurt (vanilla flavour if possible)

4. Nachos… but cold. The cheese isn’t even melted or anything. I know. Lock up all seven of your sons.

5. Trifle. Okay so it’s not nachos but neither is anything else I’ve listed.

This is all very nice, and yeah it tasted great, but if it’s not hot, covered in cheese and doesn’t contain the big four, then it’s a Notcho.

So stop moaning and go and throw some gazpacho down your top or whatever it is you people do. Then eat some proper nachos.

(Image from this lovely blog where a girl posts a picture a day every day to describe her life. Aaaah)

How Not To Make Guacamole (or: Guacamoleurrgh)

Last night the Nacho Times decided to have a bash at making guacamole. Without a recipe.

A direct quote from a nearby observor sums it up: “You know when people say, ‘eurgh that looks like sick’? Well that actually does. I mean, I’ve never seen anything that looks so utterly like sick.”

It turned out to have a charming pan-Mexican flavour, and I enjoyed the huge wodges of avocado, but it definitely wasn’t Guacamole. It was GuacaNO.

Recipe for GuacaNO (best accompanied with Notchos, due to overwhelming chunks and bizarre appearance)


  • 4 avocadoes. Preferably overripe with brown sections that can be cut off and accidentally merged with the good sections anyway.
  • Half a lemon because you don’t have any lemon juice.
  • A lot of salsa (no I can’t convert this into ounces, I’m metric)
  • A clove of garlic added by someone before they consulted you on the matter (to which you would have responded: “er no, you nefarious lunatic, half a clove will do thanks”
  • A bit of mayonnaise.


Sort of put it all in a bowl and attempt to mash it with a fork. Then give up and try poking it a bit with a knife. Then smoosh it with a large tumbler until smooth/your arm hurts/you can’t be bothered anymore/you resign yourself to the fact that it will always look this colour. Which is, if you’re interested, the shade of tree sap mixed with sewage. And dead frog. And moss.

Unfortunately, there is no accompanying image. This is, genuinely, the closest resemblance:


 Except this is worthy blogger fatcyclist.com’s attempt at guacamole. And it looks a lot nicer than ours.

Bad Nachos

This shouldn’t be allowed to happen. Just got tweeted a horrifying image of nachos resembling some sort of crime scene involving an axe, a maniac and a deceased pygmy’s giblets. Or dogfood. After it’s been thrown up by aforementioned dog.

Okay so there’s no danger of baldness, but the whole thing looks like something you’d grout tiles with. And the strange transparent droplets on the bottom left of the plate don’t help either. Horrific. Classy plate though.