Sports Depot: Back that Caboose Up

31 Jan

We’ve spent a lot of time dwelling on the Sports Depot in Allston. It’s not far from Nacho Patrol’s ancestral manse–located just under the giant Ace Tickets sign, right on the 66 bus line, next to a giant red caboose, we oft pass it on our travels to the much classier haunts of Harvard Square. To us, it became a kind of mecca, the holiest of nacho areas, the destination one waits her whole life to experience. And after sixty-some reviews under our belt, we felt ready to venture into what would surely spell instant enlightenment. No longer would we wander from incarnation to incarnation of less-than-stellar nachos: finally, after two long years, we would reach the pinnacle and ascend directly to the nacho lover’s equivalent of heaven: a 40/40 score.

Unfortunately, the road a nacho reviewer walks is a long one, one perhaps assigned by the stars to end in failure.

If there were a way we could put our blubbering tears into writing, we would add it right here. Suffice it to say, we have queued to search “disappoint” as we write this.  Many metaphors were made on the spot in an attempt to vocalize our disappointment. Remember when you were so excited to see the last Star Trek: TNG movie? You were sure that auteur Brent Spiner was going to weave solid gold. You waited and pined and dreamed, but when it got here, you were so dismayed you couldn’t even a remember a day when Star Trek was good. Heartbroken and dejected, you had to create and watch an entire 60-episode Star Trek: TNG syllabus in the hopes of rekindling the dim light of joy in your heart. To use parlance our younger readers will understanding, imagine if you were expecting Bella Swan and Edward Cullen on their wedding night, and instead got the sordid tale of Bella deciding to go back to Phoenix and losing it to her three-week boyfriend in a tent after junior prom. Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s break down the gritty details:

  • Appearance: (6.3) with the tears in our eyes, it was hard to get a clear mental picture, but we will say these nachos were nothing to write home about. Again, we apologize for the piss-poor image quality as of late–after many long weeks, we finally have a functioning camera and we hope that soon we’ll remember to bring it. Highlights from this particular plate have to the fresh tomatoes and the chopped green onions. Low lights have to be…everything else. Who knew a place that has its own caboose would lack any originality in its food.
  • Distribution: (7) in our effort to be cunning linguists, we can only say that the distribution was pretty crappy. On first glance we expected a lot more naked chips than we got. The refried beans certainly helped add a nice coating of flavor, but there wasn’t nearly enough chili (in fact, there may have only been one bean and one substantial piece of beef) or cheese or tomato or guacamole.
  • Quality (6): The fresh stuff was the tastiest–the tomatoes, guac, and green onions. The refried beans were exactly what you’d expect from a can and there wasn’t enough chili to gauge the flavor.
  • Price (6): Before tip, these nachos were $9.99. Average for this area, but still shitty considering the size.
  • Overall: 25.3/ 40

We’ve been told long ago that success is a journey, not a destination. And as much as it breaks our spirit to admit it, Sports Depot seems to be just another, rather forgettable step on Nacho Patrol’s path toward nacho perfection.

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