sweden

This last photo needs a little explanation: we're sitting outdoors in this cafe, and glancing through the menu - much of it is printed on the table, repeated in an X-shape, one arm for each of the four seats - and I see the following: "Nachos original 55: -
Varma, kryddade majschips serveras med salsa och aioli."

English translation says something like "nachos with two sauces" okay, i recognize "salsa", but the second one? aioli? That can't be right... Later I would find out that sometimes the Swedish take on things differs from the original word, like the "marinara" pizza that turned out to be a cheese pizza with mussels and prawns. It was good, but unexpected.

Now, I don't consider myself a food prescriptivist - I like and enjoy different cultures' interpretations of foods. NYC pizza differs from the Neapolitan version, and I'm even willing to let the Windy City call their dough-casserole abomination "pizza", as long as every menu clarifies that it's "Chicago style" so I don't order it by accident. I ate those pulled-pork nachos in Durham and thought they were pretty dang good; I've made microwave nachos with american "cheese", and although we didn't actually order the "Irish nachos" at Macado's, I guess they qualify. Barely.

So we ordered the "Nachos Original". How were they? Why, quite original, thank you for asking. How to summarize... for those of you who eat nachos, have a peek at the photo. Yes, I know they look just like nachos. Yet every element was slightly wrong; the salsa tasted kind of like a chunky marinara sauce; what I thought at first was bits of jalapeno was green onions, and there was definitely oregano and other italian spices in there too; the cheese was akin to whatever they use at ballparks and stadiums; and the second sauce was definitely mayo-based. I felt as if I was in one of those dreams where everything is slightly wrong, and though you can't exactly explain why, you're filled with dread. So these are sort of Phillip K. Dick/Cthulhu Mythos nachos.

Sounds vile and disgusting? Well, it actually... wasn't. All of the ingredients weren't bad, in and of themselves, and because the chips and cheese were pretty close to what we're used to as "nachos", it made for an eating experience that was unnerving but strangely compelling. Jed LOVED them, as you can tell from the photo, and I think that's because he's too young to have preconceived notions of how food is supposed to taste.

My guess is that, like the stuffed lion of Gripsholm Castle, these nachos have some of their basis in a photo, or the "look" of nachos. If you're from a culture that uses mayo rather than sour cream, you're more likely to think that it's an acceptable substitute, much like americans think that lite sour cream can be subbed for creme fraiche. The salsa can be explained the same way. And there you have it. Swedish Nachos.