Jiro dreams of nachos

It's been a while since I've written about food, but meanwhile there have been many delicious dinners. These meals tend to walk the healthy/indulgent line, and involve veggies or cheese, and sometimes both.

My bf's signature dish includes veggies *and* cheese, yet additional ingredients push the final product further toward the quadrant of snacks I call "irresistible and indulgent."

His signature dish is fully loaded nachos.

:: D's mexi-fabulous old-skool snack ::

According to D, an order of nachos should compose of layers of restaurant-style tortilla chips (he prefers blue corn), each layer topped with generous amounts of grated cheese (two kinds) and finely-diced vegetables (green and black olives, green pepper, banana peppers, and red onion).

He prepares each ingredient individually, then fits a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Watching him assemble a tray of nachos is like watching a conductor in front of an orchestra. He knows, as though by instinct, precisely where each piece should fit in relation to the whole. As though the sheet of nachos already exists in his mind and he is following the blueprint. Fine-tuning his product as he waits for the oven to heat, he looks over the bricolage with a critical eye and grates a little more cheese or cracks another jar of olives if the proportions aren't just right.

After he pulls his tray from the oven we sample our first bite. His attention to detail and generosity toward toppings has paid off: the nachos are crunchy and textured, each chip loaded with a unique combo of vegetables and melted cheese. They are heavenly, the aspiration of nachos made in pubs around the world.

If the medical gig doesn't work out, I foresee a promising second career.