Turn It up Another Nacho


Ingredients:
tortilla chips, green pepper, mushroom, green onions, tomatoes, bacon bits, chicken breasts, olive oil, white wine, pepper, salt, sugar, cilantro, lemons, smoked cheddar cheese, monterey jack pepper cheese

Directions:
Note that quantities, serving size, and all numbers are inexact at best. I've never actually measured any of this. Put as much of this stuff in as you want. I'm not your dad. You want a worrisome amount of chicken? Add more. You're (probably] in a free country. Live a little.
Cheese selection: it says old cheddar cheese because that's what I'm allowed to write for ingredients, but that doesn't do it justice. That's not what we're talking about here. You need to find the oldest cheddar possible. Your search for this cheese should be a literal quest. Ideally, you should get it from a museum or a pyramid. When you heft it in your hand, you will feel the weight of forgotten cultures, obsolete technologies, and extinct animals. For best results, drag it behind a 40 year old pickup truck on the way home.
*Cheese quest not reflected in prep time.
The bacon bits are important, but they have a bit of freedom. You can either get a package or two of the real high end top shelf stuff, or make your own. To make your own, fry them up like normal, but throw in some hot sauce when they're nearly done. This is, by the way, the only way you should ever make bacon again from this day forward. The homemade bacon bits need to literally be bits. Chop them up fine. Really fine. Like Britney Spears in that Pepsi commercial fine.
You may be asking, but what if I don't have any hot sauce? Fair question. Let me be totally clear on this: if you do not own hot sauce, you are not allowed to make these nachos. Go find a mayonnaise sandwich on Pinterest while you sip your 9 syllable coffee.
Marinade:
Dice up one of the jalapenos into near oblivion.
Zest one entire lemon, then slice it and juice it.
Throw the chicken breasts in a bag or a bowl or whatever with the diced jalapeno, the lemon, sugar, salt, wine (beer also works in a pinch], olive oil, and cilantro. Crack a lot more black pepper into it than you think is reasonable. Let that bad boy sit overnight for best results.
When you're ready to make the nachos, put the chicken in a covered frying pan, marinade and all, and cook it. I'm not gonna tell you how long or what temperature. If you can't fry a chicken breast, you're in the wrong place.
Crack a beer. Drink it while you cook.
While the chicken is cooking, chop up the veggies. Mix them all up.
Shred the cheese. Mix them all together in one happy family. Do the old cheddar last, as there is a decent chance it will break the cheese grater. An angle grinder may be your best choice at this point.
Slice up the remaining jalapeno. Thinly. You want to be able to read a book through it. It should have both the SPF rating and general appeal of a beautiful woman's sexy underthings. Put them on a separate pan with a bit of olive oil.
Preheat the oven. The temperature matters less than you think. 300. 350. Something like that.
Shred the chicken.
Build the nachos. This your magnum opus, folks. Take it seriously. When finished, this nacho platter should have more layers than you pretend to have in your Tinder bio. Here's the important part: every layer has every ingredient. That means the chicken, the veggies, the bacon bits, cilantro, and the cheese. Do not phone this inches When done, the platter should be roughly the shape of a viking burial mound. If nobody gently asks you if you're sure about this while you're doing it, you're not doing it right. Keep building it higher until it obstructs the looks of concern on the faces of your friends and loved ones.
Sprinkle whatever cilantro you have left on it, crack some pepper on top, and squeeze the lemon on it.
Throw the nacho platter(s] and the jalapenos in the oven. I don't know, say 20 minutes or so. You do you. The idea is to soften up the veggies and melt the cheese.
Serve it with the jalapenos on the side, and the holy trinity: salsa, sour cream, and guac. I don't care if you don't like one of them. do it. Mexico loves them so much they made them their flag colors. I'm not about to argue with that kind of devotion, and neither should you.