there used to be this thing called Volcano Nachos they were meant to be spicy. I don’t remember what was in them to make them spicy besides pickled jalapeño, but they oozed of grease and vinegar. the base would bend under the weight of existence and the peaks, would slice your lips open. Crispy nacho chips, and cheese sauce lava flows, it used to delight me eating watery jalapeños and soggy beef, to enjoy the final crunch before the mountain became mush. like real volcanoes, they didn’t last. Mount Nacho erupted for the final time in 2012, finally consuming itself in its own, faint fires my dad still asks me if they’re what I want sometimes, I think, I do.
Austin Hendricks, he/him, is an Indiana-based writer who would describe himself as “just some dude.” He has works in Molecule, Cesura and elsewhere. The last time Austin went to a Taco Bell, he walked there only to find that the only option to receive a Quesarito was via the drive-thru (notably closed to foot traffic). Gripe with him about the injustices of cars getting specialty taco treatment on Twitter @hnitsua
Taco Bell Quarterly 