Texas nachos 101
My dad asked me a very serious question the other day. He was concerned, since I’d lived away from Texas for so long, where I fell on the nacho spectrum. Did I prefer a pile of chips with some toppings slopped on willy-nilly or did I prefer each nacho to be one chip toasted with a tasteful spread of Longhorn cheddar cheese and a sliced jalapeno. I was shocked he even had to ask. For me, and for every Texan, there is only one kind of Texas nacho: the latter. Nachos are simple and elegant. Each nacho is its own entity (and that is key), with just enough toppings to give it flavor and a bit of heft but not enough to make it saggy or soggy. Anything else is an imposter!
Nachos are reputed to have been invented in 1943 by a maitre d’ named Ignacio Anaya who was working at the Victory Club in Piedras Negras, Mexico, which is just across the border from Eagle Pass, Texas. As the story goes, some ladies from Eagle Pass came into the restaurant one evening, ordered some drinks and wanted some snacks. The kitchen was already closed, so Anaya melted some Longhorn cheddar on some tortilla chips and garnished each chip with a jalapeno slice. He presented them to the ladies calling his improvised appetizer “Nacho’s Especiales” as Nacho is a nickname for Ignacio. And the name, without the “especiales,” stuck.
Nachos were made only this way until 1977 when a San Antonio businessman named Frank Liberto started selling melted processed-cheese food to Arlington Stadium. You know, the gross stuff that comes out of a pump. (Not to be confused with queso, which is far, far superior!) He called it “nacho cheese” and it was served with tortilla chips. As the story goes, sportscaster Howard Cosell tried some, loved it and extolled the virtues of these “nachos” on national TV. And a taste sensation took off, but sadly it was misinterpreted. Instead of the exquisite traditional nacho of one chip with a topping, people thought nachos were a mountain of chips with melted processed cheese. It was a very dark day in the history of this beloved Tex-Mex treat.
I’ve heard some people call the wrong nachos “Yankee nachos,” though that’s clearly a misnomer since a misguided Texan was the first one to market the so-called nacho cheese. Instead, I prefer to think of them as lazy nachos, as it’s much easier to just throw a bunch of ingredients on a mountain of chips instead of taking the care and time to dress each individual chip one by one.
I have many issues with lazy nachos, but my biggest problem is that they just aren’t satisfying. You know how it goes with these—the chips on top of the pile have too much cheese, meat, beans, tomatoes, sour cream, guacamole and whatever else has been hurled on them while the rest of the chips are sans any topping. Where’s the balance? Where’s the equality? Where’s the grace? And to make matters worse, if you make or order these for a group of people, there’s always a big fight to grab the chips with toppings because you know how awful the naked stragglers will taste. So what should be a friendly and pleasant eating experience becomes an all-out struggle for nacho supremacy. Please tell me, where’s the fun in that?
If you’ve never made nachos the proper way, people will be surprised and find them exotic. That’s OK. But what they’ll really discover is that a true nacho is a joy to eat, a sophisticated snack that can stand on its own. So if you’re making nachos this weekend for the Super Bowl, and have never made them the way they were invented, why not give it a try? It’s not hard to make them right. Heck, I grew up with a mom who made them the correct way almost every day when I was a kid—it was her favorite snack. I have fond memories of her spooning refried beans onto chips, adding a bit of cheese and a slice of jalapeno, baking them, and then whipping up a batch of guacamole to spread on top for added nutritional value.
If you want more than just Longhorn cheddar and refried beans, yes, topping it with a bit of meat or a vegetable is fine. Just don’t go nuts, as with nachos you’ll find that less is more. And sure, it’s quite all right to serve guacamole, sour cream or salsa on the side, but you may discover that it’s not even necessary as each nacho, when properly made, really needs no embellishment. And after each creamy, crunchy and spicy bite—I bet you’ll agree that nachos are just about the most perfect Tex-Mex food.
Proper Texas nachos
Ingredients
- Peanut oil, for frying
- 6 corn tortillas
- Salt
- 1/2 cup refried beans, optional
- 1 1/2 cups grated Longhorn cheddar cheese
- 24 pickled jalapeno slices
- Guacamole, for serving
- Sour cream, for serving
- Salsa, for serving
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 375° F.
- Cut the tortillas into quarters.
- Pour enough oil in an iron skillet to come up 1/2 inch up the sides and heat to 375° F.
- In batches, fry the quartered tortillas for 1 to 2 minutes on each side (until golden brown) and then remove. Drain on a paper towel and sprinkle lightly with salt.
- Once chips have been made, spread each with 1 teaspoon of refried beans (if you so desire), 1 tablespoon of cheddar cheese, and 1 pickled jalapeno.
- Bake in oven for 5 minutes or until cheese is melted. Serve with guacamole, sour cream, and/or salsa.
Lydia–They are indeed elegant.
Melissa–Well isn’t that good news! And good luck with the nacho shake-up–hopefully you can convince your Mom and Manuel that these are just as good if not better than the “wrong” nachos.
Cindy–Round chips are just fine. I remember in the early 80’s, it seemed that round chips were all the rage.
Lizurs1–I know, isn’t it strange?
Elisa–Ha! More for the rest of us indeed!
Tempered Woman–That sounds tasty, I’ll have to try my French fries nacho style.
Becky–That’s cool–that just leaves more for the rest of us!
Tommy–I’m so glad someone else understands what happens when a group orders nachos–it can get very unpleasant!
Jodie–I love the idea of Jewish nachos–how about matso with cream cheese and lox with a caper on top?
JEP–Thanks! And I agree, they are the best!
Hatter mad–I’m glad you like the chile powder recipe, and like I said above, that’s cool if you don’t prefer these–we’re all entitled to our opinion–it just leaves more for the rest of us!
Anon–Oh yes! I always sprinkle some cayenne and chili powder into my refried beans–the spicier the better!
Tace–Good luck with the nachos and let me know what you think. And I’m pleased to hear that your now omnipotent WITH chili gravy in your husband’s eyes! It doesn’t get much better than that!
Kari–I bake mine with half whole wheat most of the time, and I think it makes it even more nutty not to mention nutritious.
Miss Meat and Potatoes–Isn’t it criminal? It’s so frustrating. And that’s such a sweet memory of your mom making them for you when you didn’t feel well–nachos can make anyone feel better!
Ex-Tex–Welcome! And what a challenge it must be trying to make Tex-Mex in Munich, though I hear Gruyere makes some yummy cheese enchiladas!
Dara–Welcome! And I hope you enjoy the bread!
CC–I find that’s often the case, but it’s never too late to learn!
Jamie–Hmmmmm, that’s disturbing news.
Anon–That’s odd, I still seem them in restaurants when I go home, like at Los Cucos in Houston. But I’d think California, with its proximity to Mexico, would have decent Mexican food or at least salsa.
Homesick Houstonian–I like your method for maximum cheesiness–I’ll have to try it sometime! And if done right, they are good plain, though a little guacamole doesn’t ever hurt, that is, if you have any left over. Have you seen Milagro Totopos in NYC? I like Xochitl, but they’re so darn expensive.
Olivia–It is indeed the holy trinity of Tex-Mex flavors. When are you coming back to America?
Cynthia–It’s good stuff–I’m just sad that so many people think that mass-produced nachos are what nachos are.
Kelly–Thanks for stopping by! Mmmm, those tamales sound delicious!
Gal Writer–Howdy, my sister in Tex-Mex! I have to agree with you, though Ignacio Anaya’s Nacho’s Especiales didn’t have beans, hence my saying that they’re optional.
Brilynn–What are you waiting for–it’s time for you to make some nachos!
Mike–Your grandfather was mayor of Eagle Pass? How cool is that! But tsk, tsk, indeed! I can’t believe she made them in the microwave!
Hillary–You’re very welcome–enjoy!
Urban Epicurean–Mmmmm, that chicken sounds great–I love lime and cumin together! And welcome!
O’Dub–I’ve never heard of shypoke eggs, but they sound cute.
I passed this recipe onto my neighbor in Ohio… a homesick Texan and she was all over it. Thank you!
Wow, who knew that 1) so many people had never had Texan nachos and 2) so many people would be so passionate about it!
Having lived in Tx myself, I do have particularities (like I prefer a simple fajita taco with a fresh made flour tortilla, a bit of real chunky quacamole, a bit of pico de gallo, and lots of cilantro) but I do not have much around nachos. I prefer them simple, super simple, cheese only with MAYBE a bit of jalapeno juice. I do not like it when people put like an entire meal on each chip.
Oh lord, and then there is the whole sour cream thing.. keep the sour cream for the baked potatoes.
Best queso and chips I have ever had didnt look like nachos.. it was in Piedras Negras, baked evil hot in a little cassarole, served with chips. You dip out the cheese with the chips and then sip your lime-y tecate. *sighs* wow, I think I need that right now! No chance of it.. its all ice and snow for us.
Oh, and let me just say for the non-spanish speaking non-tex-mex experienced types, a chicken and a shrimp do not HAVE a fajita so by definition, there is no such thing as a chicken or shrimp fajita – tacos maybe .. not fajita.
ok, got that off my chest *winks*
I live in Indiana, and I remember making “proper nachos” at my uncle’s house when I was a kid. I loved them. Used to be able to buy these perfectly round, somewhat thick tortilla chips in a box that we used to make the nachos.
Good times… good times.
I am also a Texan living in NYC and I love reading your blog. My mom made nachos this way when I was a kid and it is still my favorite style. If she used cheese and jalapenos, she called them nachos. If she added refried beans under the cheese, she called them veracruzanos. For some reason, if there were both beans and cheese on the chip, then chopped lettuce and tomato could be added to your individual serving at the table, making each chip a mini chalupa. But the extra toppings were entirely optional and were added carefully to each chip. My hometown of Weslaco is at the very Southern tip of Texas, 8 miles from the Mexican border. At some local Tex-Mex restaurants, the beans, cheese, jalapenos on chips combo is called panchos. I can’t wait to see what favorite Texan food item you’ll write about next!