• Appearance: (5)  The photo here does this particular plate too much justice, but trust us, the tomatoes were wan and the cheese pre-congealed. The chili looked delicious, but god damnit there was lettuce! Cue a very passionate out-loud groan.
• Quality: (2) We don’t even know where to begin. First of all, we liked the chili. The chunks of meat were ample and not of the ground-beef variety. The extent of our compliments need to end there, because the only other part of these nachos that didn’t make us cry was the lettuce (and black olives! -ed). That should tell you a lot about the quality. The chips were absolutely the stalest we have ever encountered.  Our Guest Correspondent Tim described them as cardboard, which is probably as apt a metaphor as we can give you to describe the stale, soft, and salty foundation of our chos. Normally when you bite into a chip you expect a bright crunching sound. When you bit in to these chips, it sounds a little bit like shattering safety glass. We wondered aloud, what happened to these?  Had someone accidentally left a bag of chips open since last summer and then tried to make nachos with them?? Louder groan!
• Distribution: (5) The cheese was cold even before it got to our table, making it very hard for it properly coat the chips. The chili was ladled with a heavy hand but unfortunately, only on the very top of the chips, leaving many naked below.  This worked to our advantage as it was easier to spoon off and avoid the abominable chips, but that really doesn’t deserve extra points!
• Price: (5.5) At $10, why not just pay a dollar more and go for the $11 pitcher-of-PBR-and-pizza deal, and save yourself the jaw-numbing, soul-crushing apocalypse that is these nachos?? Really.  Save yourself.
• Overall: 17.5/40.

Here’s a question: how long do these nachos have to go un-ordered before Newtowne takes them off the menu? Three months? Six? We, say, however long as it takes.  People of the world, unite! Boycott this disaster!  Down with stale chips!  Viva la PBR and pizza instead!

• Appearance: (8) Much has changed from our original review!  Gone are the tri-colored chips, but to more than make up for it, guacamole, green onions and a tantalizingly non-sour cream dip on the side. Chili is now on the top, instead of in the middle under a helmet of cheese.
• Quality of Ingredients: (9) As could be guessed from their fancied-up color scheme, practically every ingredient in these nachos had changed, generally for the better. The chili had a distinct, chocolaty mole flavor, something we rarely encountered.  The orange sauce on the side turned out to be a chipotle cream/mayo concoction, much more exciting that its sour cream predecessor.  Even the salsa was miles ahead of the canned stuff of yore– thin, fresh, and reminiscent of both gazpacho and our recent trip to Brighton Beer Garden (perhaps these two are in cahoots?). As before, the chili presented a kidney bean extravaganza, but gone were the black olives.
• Distribution of Toppings: (8) Here Harry’s has completely changed their approach, trading in the “molten chili center” method for the more traditional “chili hat” distribution.  This created a few more problems with distribution, making it sometimes hard to get at sodden chips, and hiding the true melted cheese magnitude. Indeed, there was a lot of cheese but most of it near the bottom and some even stuck to the plate (it appears the Gospel of John Harvard’s is spreading!)
• Price: (8.5) What is it with restaurants not having a website? Our blueberry beer-addled brains have failed us.  They are only listed without chili, at $7. We’re guestimating on this one.
• Total: 33.5/40.  While they have moved down out of medal contention, we’ll still think of these as winners any day.  In an era where restaurants seem to be cheapening and dumbing down their nachos, Harry’s has upped their game with bold, original ingredients.  Hurray!

• Appearance: (7) Colorful enough, but rather flat. We liked the inclusion of fresh veggies but were taken aback by the rogue chili bowl off to the side.
• Quality of Ingredients: (7) We remember generally liking everything but not much else stood out…
• Distribution of Toppings: (4) Last time we came here, we forgot to order chili on our nachos and sorely regretted it.  This time, we rectified the error and received…regular nachos with a bowl of chili on the side??  Our House, you have reached a new low in nacho-distribution laziness.  Sure, there was ample melted cheese, salsa and guacamole to provide excellent coverage, but we aren’t going to let you rest on that.  We have principles to uphold, and we do not approve of cutting corners when it comes to nachos!
• Price: (8) At $8 with chili, these are still pretty cheap.  Small, but if you only have a few people, worth it.
• Overall: 26/40 When we originally visited Our House West for the nachos, it was one of our very first reviews, and we have often wondered if we were perhaps too lenient.  It turns out that we were– like everything that comes out of this place, these nachos are passably decent yet utterly forgettable.

As a side note, if you’re planning on abstaining from booze for the evening, you’re in for quite a surprise since they charge for refills on soda. If you can name one bar IN THE WORLD that does this, we will buy you…a soda from Our House West. We’re not bitter or anything. And no, we didn’t pay for it.

• Appearance: (8.5) An array of colors and textures, that upon closer examination revealed far more toppings than originally expected.  We’re taking off an extra half point for the plastic containers (not pictured) of salsa, sour cream and guacamole– how gauche!
• Quality of Ingredients: (8) Let’s play a game called, “Rarely Seen Ingredients In The Boston Nacho Scene.”  Black olives? Check. Kidney beans? You betcha. A fresh vegetable that is not part of the salsa?  Say no more!  While everything else (chips, cheese, chili, guac) was good, it was the little details that pushed these nachos over the top.
• Distribution of Toppings: (9) Massive amounts of melted cheese can never hurt, and while there were some naked chips, there was plenty of use for them, scooping up extra toppings.
• Price: (6) At $12, on par for the area but not particularly outstanding.
• Overall: 31.5.  We have it on good authority that this is one of the only things this place does right.  Still, at least they are good at something! If you are in the area and need nachos, this is likely your best bet.

However, there was one small problem: we’re giant failures.

Because of technical difficulties and general stupidity on our part and on the part of the lone crazy guy waiting tables in the basement of Pour House, we can’t call this an actual review. Still, look at those babies! That’s about 5 stories of nacho goodness through and through. If you ignore the fact these are sans chili and black beans (failure #1), Pour House nachos are looking ripe for nacho perfection. The price is still right: $8.50 for their Nachos Grande, which handily defeated three Patrollers. And the flavors are all still there: yummy chili, fresh salsa, decent black beans. The cheese was a bit scant, but we blame that in part on what we had to do to actually make these Nachos Grande:

That’s right. They got our order wrong (failure #2). We’ll take the blame for compounding the problem by simply ordering a bowl of chili and a bowl of beans to dump on top. By the time the ingredients were assembled, the cheese was stiff and the chips were soggy. Distribution was a problem and by the end we had ourselves a mess of sour cream and floppy, naked chips. Now that’s just depressing.

Nacho Patrol can be accused of bias: maybe we want these nachos to be the best so we ignore the failings. Then again, we’re a team of optimists. We see the best in a plate of nachos and we recognize the potential for greatness. The moral of the story is this: when you go to Pour House (and you should. Often.) do what you have to do to get the Nachos Grande. Make sure that crazy waiter hears you. Keep your ID’s out and ready for action if you want a beer. Maybe bring a trumpet-style hearing aid if your hearing is at all compromised. But whatever you do, GET EXCITED: for the moment, these are the best nachos in Boston!

We managed to find a booth at 8pm on a Friday, and settled in with a few pints.  The menu description did not inspire confidence; Long Acre describes its nachos as “smothered with melted cheese, jalapeños, spicy tomato salsa, guacamole, sour cream and chive.” Is there any other kind of salsa besides the spicy kind made with tomatoes? And it’s “chiveS.”  Still, onward we go, bypassing the smoked salmon crostini with créme fraîche and roast mini-cumberland sausages.

• Appearance: (7) At first glance, these nachos appeared promising: guacamole, salsa, sour cream, melted cheese, even chives sprinkled over the top. Closer inspection revealed something peculiar about the tortilla chips: they were actually Doritos. If this were a conscious experiment we might give Long Acre some points for creativity, but that seems doubtful. “Odd” is the best way to describe the Dorito-nachos.
• Distribution: (4) There was enough salsa, guacamole and sour cream, but the cheese only existed on the top layer. The plate became progressively less nachos and more “super-bowl-chips-and-dip” as we finished off the top layer of chips. The cheese quickly cooled and coagulated, forming blocks of Doritos.
• Quality: (4) The Doritos were, um, Doritos. Fresh from the bag, I’m sure! The guacamole was definitely above Tesco-quality. The salsa and sour cream—generally the no-brainers for nachos—were quite icky. And again, there was no meat! Why? English cuisine is fixated on beef, sausage, kebabs, lamb doner, and burgers. They even make pies with meat here! Yet, no meat for nachos…
• Price: (7) 4.50 GBP / $7.35: For the portion size, this is the best value we’ve seen in downtown London. There’s a long way to go in terms of quality, though; we’d recommend starting with better sour cream, cheese distribution and meat. Oh, and actual tortilla chips.

Overall: (22/40) We’re long on the bar, but definitely short on the nachos.

• Appearance: (6) a little burnt, a few too many jalapenos, and salsa in plastic cups, but a nice selection of multicolor chips  and cheese.
• Distribution of toppings: (7) Nacho Patrol really doesn’t understand the “beans at the bottom” trend. Why should one have to dig to reach the creamy refried center, dragging it out kicking and screaming? We did appreciate the full coverage chicken and cheese.
• Quality of toppings: (6) perhaps it was our fault for getting chicken, but these nachos were on the dry side. Even the beans didn’t add much moisture. Something about the flavor was slightly off too, a strange pepperiness emanating from the chicken and beans.
• Price: (10) $4 for happy hour nachos. What the hell is that?
• Overall: 29/40

These nachos weren’t that good. If they cost $10, they’d probably get a score somewhere in the low 20′s. Isn’t it strange how cheap things just seem to taste better?

The Avenue has everything you might expect from a “college bar.” $1.50 drafts of shitty beer, extreme fighting on one television and bikini models on another, unlimited opportunities for bromance, and copious drunk thugs attempting to hit on you (places we’d recommend Doc Martens and a burka–check). They boast having “like a hundred” taps (according to our waitress), but in reality have about 20, at least 1/5 of them Budweiser products. But for the nacho connoiseur, they also have a nice selection of nachos–everything from your average cheese to your more advanced chicken and chili. On this particular Sunday night, the six of us enjoyed the chili nachos (they were out of gauc…how sad).

Disclaimer: It was far into the night, and we have little recollection of the details of these nachos, save for a very dark photo on a cellphone and a memory of general satisfaction.

• Appearance: ( 8 ) Pretty tasty-looking?
• Quality of Ingredients: (6) Everything was good, but the chili was too watery making the chips moist and floppy. It also was rather flavorless–something you could easily make at home.
• Distribution of Toppings: ( 8 ) more cheese than you can shake a stick at made for excellent distribution. We wished they had guac, but as Skyler confessed, we “like that they have lots of cheese.”
• Price: ( 7 ) $10 split 6 ways
• Overall: (29) Good, but not very memorable.  Part of that may be our problem, though we venture that many of the people who eat the nachos here will be in the same state.

On the Boston side of the Mass Ave bridge sits an innocuous bar that gets a little rowdy on the weekends. This crowd-o-phobic patroller ventured through it’s salon-style entrance one Monday night to sneak a peek at their nachos. And by “peek,” I mean inhalation. Of course, that magic phrase “buffalo chicken” tosses this patrol into the “Specialty” section, but it’s location and the delightful service earn it this call to my fellow patrollers (who are more self-controlled than I in the face of buffalo chicken) to give Roads’ regular nachos a full and fitting review.

Presentation: Square plates. Yes. Just yes. The condiments even had their own appointed mini-plates, making for a presentation akin to those weird geometric-focus abstract paintings you see for no apparent reason in New York City galleries. Here in Boston, squares are for nomming and canvases are for representing things so that they can be interpreted. (You’ll have to forgive me; baseball season is kicking up soon. Not that I loathe and despise the Yankees or anything.) (8)

Quality of Toppings: Symphonious! Perfect crunch to every chip, well-baked cheese, and fresh guac. The chicken is the only part that’s dinging the score–while it was fried and flavorful, it was a bit dry. (7)

Distribution of Toppings: Crossroads is not messing around with their ‘chos. The toppings were not only well distributed throughout the chips, but the dish even managed to avoid that dreaded over-topping-ing that leaves the chips soggy. Also, there was no skimping on the side-dips. We ran out of salsa, but had licked the plate clean before we came up for air long enough to ask for more. (9)

Price: $8, and only an extra $0.50 for the delicious guacamole. That’s definitely on the cheaper end of the Boston zip code. (7)

Overall: A very sturdy 31. And if I could give bonus points for great staff, friendly patrons, and bro-voking draft list, I certainly would. Thanks, ‘Roads!