Place: Desperados, Islington
You know it’s going to be good when you’re drinking a cocktail called The Cactus Banger and there’s a boot stuck on the wall.
Desperados looks someone blew up a sombrero and thought they’d accessorise with a few tables. It’s great. There’s a massive wagon wheel outside and everything. The chos were £3.99 which are the cheapest yet, and you know what? There was not one bald cho. Not even a small one with a receding hairline.
They used a Spreading Technique which was a surprisingly intelligent move for a place where waiters didn’t understand the phrase “do you mind if I have my main meal without Chorizo?” For those not au fait with the Spreading Technique, it involved the chos being spread on a flat plate as opposed to piled high in a bowl. Which looks impressive, but tastes like Bald.
Clumping? Does a sombrero shit on the pope? No. There was no clumping or cheese adhesive as it hadn’t been microwaved and the guac was staggering. Chunky like the thighs of an oiled Chippendale dancer (dated reference) and contributing to what was a perfect ratio of soured cream to salsa to guac to penos. It’s difficult coming up with affectionate nicknames for Jalapenos that aren’t reminiscent of male genitalia.
The one complaint I had was perhaps there was too much relish. I know, it’s like picking holes in God here, but knives and forks were necessary. Surely the point of nachos is that it’s a hands-on situation.
Aside from this small gripe, the whole nacho experience was brilliant. Dimly lit utterly mental and tacky environment, beautifully executed chos, and wall mounted footwear. Nacho Times recommends this highly.
Ultimate London Nacho? Restored my faith in London Nachos. Those chos were the strongest contender for Ultimate London Nacho yet. 4.5/5