I’m pretty convinced that people who love cutting hair make great nachos. I don’t have jack shit to support this theory, mind you. But a person who works their way around the head with a quiet intensity, methodically evaluating each strain of hair to ensure all the lengths work together to please its owner, would seem to possess the attributes to make a highly enjoyable platter of nachos. Both are simple in terms of tools and intent. Yet it takes a true master to deliver an exceptional product. And easy for a half asser to fuck up beyond belief.
Now I’m sure you think this elaborate (and dare I say brilliant) analogy is going to seamlessly segue into how the cooks at Brooklyn Public House make nachos that rival the greatest haircuts. This isn’t the case.
With our impromptu and early arrival at the friendly and tchotchke-slathered tavern, we were no doubt receivers of the first serving of nachos of the day. What came steaming out of the kitchen doors was a mountainous presentation of our order so visually fetching that it elicited an anticipatory “aaaaaah” from these handsome reviewers and the admiration of a portly gentlemen in a suit who yipped loudly in our ears “Those nachos look dope!”
Unfortunately after a couple bites, our “aaaaahs” quickly turned into “ugggghs” with my esteemed co-pilot giving off a resounding “grrrrrffffff”, which caused the manager to bobble his phone for 3 seconds, the bartender to cover her mouth, and a millennial to run out the door covering her ears running towards a passing bus (although, these events could’ve been unrelated to my friend’s abrupt vocal gust).
All in all, even though the ingredients were cooked well and of good quality, the details that separate a good plate of nachos from a great one went missing. Namely, the construction was more show than substance. Yes, stacked tall chips will turn heads but using canned guacamole and Antarctica-to-table cold sour cream will create frowns. The polar pals atop the pile ruled in position and portion over a smattering of jalapeños and tomatoes, along with a shy pile of beans huddled away in the center, seemingly playing a game of hide and seek where everyone went home crying.
Now with all these grumpy notes, there was still a lot of attaboys about this plate, including the crispy homemade chips, ample cheese, and solid preparation of all the secondary ingredients (beans, salsa fresca, and jalapeños). Together it made for an enjoyable meal. Just not exceptional. It’s a plate I would have again. I would just come a little later so the cook — as well as the toppings —had a little more time to warm up. Because as we all know, some cooks, just like some barbers, do their best work later in the day.