Covent Garden? More like The Land Where Nachos Go To Die. Garden.

Place: Nags Head, Covent Garden

At £5.95 these nachos actively tried to put me off eating them. Not only were they only advertised behind the bar (not in the menu) and not only was there no guacamole, but the chef had welded the cheese onto the plate with a soldering iron. Which is a weird thing to do.

I was, and I admit, getting a bit fed up of bad nachos. I thought this would be it. I thought  a pub opposite Covent Garden Station would be a safe bet considering it’s THE TOURIST CAPITAL (SORT OF) OF LONDON (MAYBE). Sorry, I’m getting angry. Probably because there was no care and attention put into these nachos at all. They were the abandoned, neglected, partially welded child of the cho world.

Oh yeah, that’s fine, just throw masses of soured cream and salsa in a non-aesthetic fashion all over the solidified, microwaved cheese. It might not have even been cheese. It was so hard it might have been PVA glue or perhaps a bit of spandex.

If I wanted to preserve  nachos for 3000 years for future generations,  these were ideal. You could pick up the entire plate with one nacho, such was the power of this bizarre cheese adhesive.

The one thing (apart from my great orange nail varnish) that lifted this experience was the amount of salsa and soured cream. You don’t often get such generosity, but in this case it served only to make one wonder what they were trying to hide. Which, as it turns out, was the fact that they’d mistaken the English Cheddar for UHU.

Ultimate London Nacho? Don’t insult me. Take a look at your cheese produce guys. 1.5/5 (for amount of condiment used)

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