The Ultimate London Nacho: The Camden Head

Place: The Camden Head, Camden Passage (Islington)

If this was a dating site and I fancied nachos, I would have private messaged these. And worn a really revealing dress on the first date.

Then found them to be a little cold if well adorned, Caeser-like, in the sun soaked beer garden of The Camden Head. Surrounded by laughing couples and a guy with no teeth. Who was alone. But that’s irrelevant (if poignant and telling).

Anyway, the small nachos (pictured) were £4.20 and, while it was a little plate, the mountain was Everest. The relish was delicious too, although the jalapenos tasted like Dettol which was bizarre if, awkwardly, slightly pleasant. Unfortunately, the Everest proportions meant the mountain was quite cold, and there was a lot of pulling and tugging to get the chos with the cheese which had solidified, clinging to the chips like a child clinging to, you know, some chips.

However, distribution and amount of the Big Four was pleasing and the use of chilli Doritos, while not homemade or requiring any effort whatsoever, meant that I was almost actively searching for Bald Chos by the end. Almost. I know. Shoot me.

Overall I think this was a positive experience (bar slightly plasticky and cold cheese) and I plan to give him a second date. It, sorry.

The moral? Seasoned chips work well in nachos and if you have no teeth, you’ll probably be alone. Also, profile pictures can look inviting but the person in question might turn out to be cold, if well dressed.

Ultimate London Nacho? If they were warmer I might be tempted to give them a 4. Will have to try the larger nachos in order to fully rule out The Camden Head. For now, 3.5/5.


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’s attempt at guacamole. And it looks a lot nicer than ours.

Never Met A Cho Like You Before

… in the catering world.

This is what nachos should look like. Comedian and one third of rather amusing sketch group Wittank Naz Osmanoglu recently made some nachos at a stag do. In Leamington Spa. Obviously a mental night then. Either way, just look at the sauce distribution:

They look professional. Or rather, they don’t, because in the UK professional nachos tend to look like hell. So why do these work so well?

  • Intelligent distribution of the Big Four (all surfaces covered with similar amounts)
  • A gracious amount of relish.
  • Enough jalapenos to give the whole shebang a bit of a, y’know, bang, without going OTT.
  • Attention to aesthetic.

In saying this, it’s difficult to tell whether the cheese has been righteously used or abused. Is there any cheese? I’ve looked quite hard and can’t see it. Unless it’s exactly the same colour as the chos (which don’t look particularly tasty in there own right. Always good to have them slightly seasoned. However, these are minor failings)

Naz, Nacho Times salutes you. And implores you to become a chef in most of the places reviewed on this site.

Ultimate London Nacho: The Bridge House

Place: The Bridge House/Canal Cafe Theatre, Little Venice

Upon suffering general malaise due to lack of vitamins I admit, I had a nacho break. Wednesday’s Horrid Nacho Experience at Subway caused a loss of faith. 

Thankfully nachoist, comedian and general man of culture Tom Neenan (one half of the brilliant Gentlemen of Leisure) tweeted The Nacho Times these charming chos (that cost a fiver)

In terms of Baldness, they’ve avoided the problem with canny use of cheese– spreading it lightly over the dish as opposed to allowing it to congeal in the centre. Not quite enough, but admirable coverage. The whole thing is quite small though. Like a pygmy. Or, if I were to be less racist,  a starter.

The proportions in relation to the size and amount of chos are, as with pygmies, bang on with the homemade tortilla action rounding off the experience nicely. These chos probably have a converted townhouse in Marylebone and get excited about Whittards. In other words, they’re Posh West London Chos.  These were made for polite dipping over politer conversation. Followed by sudden hunger and a kebab. Pleasing, but not satisfying. The more I look at them, the more I want to sort of shove my face in the perfectly formed posho plate and cover myself in relish. Screaming and chomping, like an animal. Chos are made to messy. However, this is just my opinion. 

Ultimate London Nacho? Tom gives them 6.5/10 (I failed to inform him it’s out of 5) so will convert this to a solid 3/5. Posh and homemade, yes, but isn’t mess and chaos the point of the Nacho?