Like many of you, I plan on spending the 4th of July doing two things; loving America and watching the Coney Island Nathan’s Famous Competitive Hot Dog Eating Competition. This contest of consumption, the Super Bowl of the competitive eating sport, pits twenty men and women against, if not the scum of the meat product world (That distinction goes to Spam and the other potted meats) then it’s inbred cousin, the hot dog. Why does this food get raised to such a level of glory above all others? Is it its apple pie American-ness? A phallic fixation? The congressional lobbying of Big Meat Slurry? Who can say.

I was at work yesterday (that’s right folks, sadly nacho skills do not pay the nacho bills) at a party celebrating the end of the fiscal year when I heard some dialogue that disturbed me to the bone. Not having the time to bring in my custom nacho maker (Originally designed to be a stand alone pizza cooker, I modified it for my chip related needs) to make nachos there on the spot, I took the easy way out and just brought in some chips and queso fundido. It’s a good thing queso fundido is my favorite thing to eat after having my jaw drop, because one of the ladies there stated “Oh, you brought nacho.”