Guest review: Trudy's

Only three nacho reviews, and already the guest reviewers are clamoring with their $0.02 on the subject! I am powerless to stem this tide, so put your hands together for my homegirl Nina!

Trudy's (Austin, TX)

The food at Trudy's, as you may know, is almost unfailingly good, but something terrible happened when they got to the nachos. A five dollar plate of nachos consists of eight large tortilla chips arranged artfully on the plate. Each has a tiny bit of cheese, a glop of Trudy's disturbingly lard-flavored refried beans, some gloomy canned jalapenos, and a ring or two of olive. They had to be salted, and then the chips were soggy under the pressing weight of the lard beans, and while some people may like sour cream, I felt that two round blobs of it in the middle of the plate in no way compensated for the absence of guacamole, especially on such a dismal dish. However I wouldn't wish to give the impression that you shouldn't go to Trudy's because they have very good, very volatile margaritas (I indulged, myself, in the house limit of two Mexican Martinis recently--for only seventy five cents each you can get them top shelf, and I recommend this, because today I don't have a hangover). And everything but the nachos is well worth getting. But the nachos are appalling.

Editor's postscript: I tried to find some online evidence of Trudy's, but all I found were general directories, listing at least 4 Trudy's restaurants in Austin. In any case, this review is hardly an endorsement, though those martinis sound awfully alluring.

¡ARRIBA!

¡ARRIBA! at the HUB

First let's get the weak points out of the way: The chips are way too salty, and it's that thick, gritty, yellow corn style that one encounters in non-Mexican chain restaurants. The sour cream is of the liquidy, as opposed to the firm and chilled, variety. The beans are a bit too watery, which soaks the chips.

OK, enough of that. These, dear readers, are the best goddamn nachos in Seattle. The beans, while aforementionedly watery, are actually cooked in a delicious broth, which undoubtedly involves a secret spice formula jealously guarded by the UW illuminati, lest every teriyaki joint on the Ave. steal it and convert their underground single-kitchen, teriyaki-pipeline network into a nachos factory, and violent revolution is loosed upon the Ave Rats, international students, and homeless itinerant cranks. Seriously, these are the most flavorful beans not labelled "chilli" I've ever had.

Beyond the just the beans, though, Arriba's nachos win all prizes hands-down. The cheese--100% cheddar, perfectly microwaved to order. The salsa--generous & garlicky, and there's a salsa bar if you need more. The sour cream, while too soft, is liberally provided, along with tons of guacamole, which is surprising for a $3.95 nachos plate. The guac is not the best I've tasted--it wouldn't stand alone well--but it complements the rest of the ensemble harmoniously, and did I mention there's tons of it?

I have been working in the same building as this otherwise unassuming college dining services Mexican food counter, and only discovered this culinary treasure two weeks ago. I have now had the nachos three times. The other offerings on the menu do not compare, even the ones that involve the same ingredients. I don't know how this is possible, especially since the chips, by themselves, would suck. One of those convergence mysteries, I guess.

Ten stars. No, make that twelve.

Next up, a guest review from one of our Austin correspondents!!

Nachos-a-go-go

NACHOS-A-GO-GO!

Time passes, the winds of fate change course, and my Dairyland Cheese Journal sheds its crusty carapace and metamorphoses. Yesterday, I was a Cheese Reviewer. Today, I am a Nachos Reviewer, and am as proud of my maturation as a bar mitzvah boy proclaiming his manhood from behind the bina. No more will you see me struggle with adjectives to properly evaluate cheap cheddars and bries! Now, with so many more ingredients under scrutiny, I can review splendidly, even exuberantly, a far more interesting product! OK, let me get right to it:

Linda's Tavern

Linda's serves a decent-sized plate, guaranteed to satisfy two happy barflies, with quality chips and perfectly serviceable pico de gallo salsa. The toppings, while flavorful--cumin lurks heavily among the whole pinto beans--have a kind of sad, dumped-from-a-can look and texture, which aren't adequately hidden by the cheese and sour cream. Memory fails me as to whether these nachos came with guacamole; obviously, this tells you something about the guac situation here.

Rendezvous

When you've already knocked back two Makers on ice and are on your third, smoked your taste buds into hibernation, and perhaps found yourself in a yuppier part of town than you're accustomed to, why not pop into Rendezvous and order an appetizer? Sure, you could go all fancy and order "Yam Chips," but fuck that, man, get the nachos! The Rendezvous' nachos are truly wonderous--at least to my soused senses. No guacamole, but this deficiency is generously made up for by two pillowy scoops of sour cream and a light sprinkling of green onion, jalapeno, black beans, and black olives. With salsa on the side and a non-greasy cheese, the chips stayed crisp through the whole ordeal. The true miracle of it all, though, is that I did not get a single speck on my white shirt, despite my altered state. My only criticism of these nachos is that the cheese was still in discernable grated flakes in some places, and close to room temp at serving. 'Nother words, it could have used another 15 seconds or so in the microwave. Also: having these with another glass of Makers was not a great idea. Nachos should always be enjoyed with a pale, dry, Mexican beer. Don't forget that, people.

Stay tuned for more nacho reviews!