Nacho Patrol believes in good service and moderately attentive bartenders. Nacho Patrol believes in cleanliness and general friendliness. Nacho Patrol believes in un-skunked beer and clean taps. In our previous experiences, we found that the Coolidge Corner Clubhouse had none of these things. After a few semi-to-seriously disastrous experiences here, we had vowed never to return. But we believe in one thing above all, and that is nachos. We felt that it was our duty to give the CCC a final chance at redemption, via their oft-mentioned nachos. Although we entered the CCC with trepidation, we were determined to keep an open mind. And while certain things did impress us (the draft list and Heather, our ever-patient waitress, who put up with us spilling drinks, breaking glasses, and generally making a huge mess like a bunch of drunk toddlers), the nachos proved to be a disaster.
- Appearance: (6) As these nachos approached the table, we shrunk back in horror, fearing for their structural integrity. Never before have we encountered such a precarious stack of chips. The plate was far too small for the amount piled on top of it. The chips were probably intended to be tri-colored, but ended up being 90% white, 7% red, and 3% this weird, light greyish-violet. Due to the structure of the stack and the color scheme of the chips, we soon discovered that eating these nachos bears a striking resemblance to a game of Jenga– could you manage to extract a chip without causing enough damage to start an avalanche? (We also discovered that after several hours of drinking, shouting “JENGA!!” every time you take a chip does not get old).
- Quality of Ingredients: (5) The chips were house-made, and extremely greasy. The guacamole was clearly made with fresh avocados, but unfortunately, nothing else; there was no hint of lemon, spice, or anything to flavor them. The shredded cheese was for the most party properly melted, but it did tend to be greasy. The grease from the chips seemed to react to the cheese grease, separating the two and making it difficult to extricate a chip from the stack without leaving the cheese behind. These nachos surpassed even Boston Beer Works in sheer greasiness, as evidenced by the following:
- Distribution of Toppings: (3) before tonight, Nacho Patrol assumed that it was scientifically impossible to fit $14 worth of nachos on 6×8 inch plate. Now, this certain nacho patrolling party knows a few things about structural integrity–three engineers, a physicist, and two nacho experts. Yes, we came prepared for this particular bar. But nothing could prepare us for the shockingly precarious placement of these nachos. Stacked approximately half a foot high, they listed worse than the Titanic. The cheese was ample, but instead of even distribution, it was in two thick sheets that soon congealed into un-edibility. Case in point:
- Price: ( 7 ) big, but crappy. Just like our men.
- Overall: 21/40. We gave these our all, but they quickly became inedible. Let down, we took out our frustration on them the only way that three engineers, two nacho experts and a physicist can: by tearing them to shreds and constructing a flag housing to fly over them in conquest.
Once again, the Coolidge Corner Clubhouse disappoints. The coffin has been nailed shut, the ship has sailed, the fat lady has sung…CCC, you are officially on the “Dead to Us” list.