In which I give you my final words of wisdom

It is my understanding that the world might end tomorrow.  Actually, the world could end anytime, with or without notice, but tomorrow might seriously be it.  We may actually get sucked away by a black hole.

So it is my intention to address the burning questions you might have before we all go to the great beyond.  Questions like, what is the meaning of life?  What is our purpose here?  Why do both good and evil have to exist?  How can I get rid of this bunion?  

Unfortunately, I don't know the answer to any of those questions, so let's talk about nachos instead.  Having grown up in Texas and New Mexico made me an authority, nay, an expert on Mexican food and anything pretending to be a variation of Mexican food.  Seriously, the FBI could call me in as an expert witness in a Tex-Mex vs. California Mexican food showdown.  I can tell you exactly what's in that guacamole.  I will make a mean chili con queso any day of the week.  And I know nachos.  Boy, do I know nachos.

Now to me, nachos are what my mom used to make for Superbowl parties, or when my Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Kathy came over.  Top plain old tortilla chips with real cheddar cheese and one pickled jalapeno slice on each chip, then you slip them in the oven till the cheese melts.  They were NOT those awful things you get at the movies or the high school football concession stand. 

Generally, if you order nachos at a restaurant in the United States, they come with sour cream and guacamole and pico de gallo and beans or some combination thereof.  If you order them in Iceland, this is what you get:

The nachos above were found in Akureyri, the second largest city in Iceland.  They were described on the menu as being corn chips served with cheese and salsa sause (sic).  I had to try them.  Can you see the dusting of red powder on the chips?  Those are Nacho Cheese Doritos, my friends.  Nacho Cheese Doritos with Icelandic football stadium sause and flavorless salsa. 

Oh, don't think for a second that I didn't eat them. 

But I figured surely that would be it - nachos, as it were, only in the densely populated, often visited cities.  

I was wrong.  On our long driving day from Akureyri to Skaftafell National Park (which I haven't written about yet, don't even try to look for it), we stopped in Egilsstadir for lunch and guess what was on the menu? 

These were at least a little closer to the real thing.  I think they used regular Doritos instead of the Nacho Cheese, which was quite an improvement.  See the melted cheese on top?  Yes!  That's the way to do it - real cheese that you melt, rather than a gloppy glob of orangey chemicals.  Underneath - salsa and fresh vegetables.  Interesting, I thought - and I liked the veggies.  I think it was carrots and zucchini, but who cares, with all that cheese?

I planned then to try and find them in the next town, but to no avail.  Honestly, that was probably in everyone's best interests, seeing as how the rental car was pretty small and, well, you know what happens when you eat too much Mexican.  

So, now you know all about Icelandic nachos.  Aren't you glad you learned that before you get swallowed by a man made black hole?  If we do ever get devoured by a black hole, I hope I am in my mama's kitchen, devouring a tray of her nachos.