Made with thinly-cut, deep-fried slices of Kennebec potato, then topped with a chèvre sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, scallions, and crumbled bacon and blue cheese, Americana's nachos are nothing if not unique.
First impressions focus on the lighty sweet, but meaty pieces of sun-dried tomatoes: an inspired choice for a topping. As I tucked further into the nachos, my attention was diverted to something less pleasing.
The chips were obviously fried in advance and given proper time to drain off excess oil and soak in seasoning, which in this case is too aggressive for my taste. Less salt on the chips would be a huge benefit to the overall flavor of the nachos, and my blood pressure. Bacon, though present, doesn't shine through much taste wise. In general, only the tang of blue cheese can compete against the aforementioned over-seasoning.
Then again, Americans in general have a major salt fetish. They generously doctor food with table salt, most of time without even tasting the dish first. Being weird I rarely touch a salt shaker after my food is put before me. Likely most patrons who order these nachos enjoy the as-salt to their palate. I beg to differ.