Sunday, June 3, 2012

Nacho, Nacho Man/Lady

I am not a big food lover, though I do discuss food quite often on my blog. I'm pretty sure food is the thing that kills us, but we need it to survive. This is the ridiculous paradox in which I live.

I generally am a healthy eater and I am not a fan of restaurants. Usually, anything I get in a restaurant is sub par because there's always that one thing about it it that ruins it- too much salt/grease/fat, too much of this or that spice, too much of the food in general, not cooked the way I'd do it, etc.

And then there's the price.

And the tip.

And the harassment by the wait staff:  canigetyousomethignelse, howarethingshere, canigetyouadessert/coffee

I do occasionally succumb to the lure of the ease of going to a restaurant and I can find a few things on some menus around here that please me enough.

One such place is the BBC, or British Beer Company. It's a very hoakey place that is meant to make you think you're in a quiet old pub in England. They put dirty looking paint on the walls with quotes from famous Brits. They have a mini telephone booth that's like the style in England (I know, what the heck is a telephone booth????). They have all sorts of British Beer.

And last night, they even had a family of Brits.  I was amazed they'd go in.  I don't think I'd go into a place in London called The American Honky Tonk. 

And they have these.

Right, who orders nachos in a British place?  I do.  And I do it with abandon.  I don't know what they do to these things, but they call to me and make me fantasize for months.  And I eat the whole thing.

Ok, I don't eat all of that sour cream, but I eat just about every other piece of it.  As my meal.  And I eat it like I might never have food again.  I make a mess.  I dont' even come up for a sip of beverage.

K-ster could burst into flames and be replaced by Jesus himself and I wouldn't even notice until I was done eating.  Or until he tried to take a chip.  I don't like it when someone tries to "share" with me.

Here's what in this marvelous dish:

various colors of tortilla chips

Now there's the interesting part.  I hate jalapenos.  I don't like spicy food and anywhere but at the BBC, they are not very spicy.  I don't like it when k-ster eats them because they create a stench in his mouth that I can smell as his truck pulls in the driveway- not kidding.  He could never win at hide and seek with me if he were to eat jalapenos 24 before hiding.  I'd sniff him right out.

Somehow, amidst all of the beauty that is deliciousness in this nachofest, I can and do eat the little suckers.  I pick out a lot of them but I eat a lot too.  And I don't taste them for hours later.  I don't have acid reflux for days afterwards.

Basically, when I'm eating these nachos, I'm like a pig in shit.  Pleased as punch.  Happy as a clam.

Don't tell anyone that knows me though.  This dish might indicate that I too can fall off the healthy food wagon.

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