http://planktownbrewing.com/
Order: Nachos with steak and avocado
Price: $11 for nachos, $6 for steak, $1 for avocado = $18
Server: Stacy Jo
Laura Nachopacabra (“Cabra”): We have an exciting guest reviewer joining us. His name sounds like my mom’s favorite snack cracker, and in exchange for us letting him do this review he is putting me and Kory on his dissertation panel as his outside members. Thanks, Triscuit. We are excited to science with you. If I had to choose three celebrities or fictional characters to describe Tristan, they would be Guy Fieri, the cast of Glee, and one of the Charmin bears.
Tristan Nachoprah Winfrey (“TNW”): I am as flattered by my inclusion in this elite group of nacho eating experts as I am insulted by any comparison to Guy Fieri. That said, cast of Glee pretty much nails my exact vibe!
Nacho Man Kory Savage (“NMKS”): I always thought Guy Fieri was kind of a goober until I found myself dancing next to him at a Phish show in Las Vegas on Halloween. I couldn’t help but gain a little respect for the man. I was dressed as Jane Fonda and Guy Fieri was dressed as Guy Fieri. Wait a sec…that might have just been some random dude in a Guy Fieri costume…hmm…I was on a lot of LSD so your guess is as good as mine. Regardless, the entire scientific community agrees that we are vastly more credible than Guy Fieri and thus should be given our own program on the Food Network called, “Anacholypse Now”.
Atmosphere
NMKS: All-in-all, Plank Town is a pleasant place to dine. The ceilings are tall, it’s spacious, but intimate and there’s wood everywhere. Seriously, like, every surface used to be a tree. I want to release a colony of beavers inside the restaurant for a few hours to see how they’d take to the space; I bet they’d have a dam good time. In keeping with our theme of reviewing restaurants with large murals, Plank Town has an enormous painting of Ken Kesey leaning on a well-stocked bookshelf looking like a total boss. This mural reminds me of the James Dean-themed party that my housemates and I hosted years ago; everyone wore jeans and white t-shirts and was encouraged to lean against things. It was one of my favorite parties.
Cabra: Plank Town is in Springfield, which is a place I mostly try to avoid because their street names are named after letters of the alphabet, which is boring. We got there about 3:00 on a rainy Saturday and still had to wait 15- 20 minutes, so right away I was not super impressed. I thought the interior had that PNW chic-vibe to it, but in 5 years it will be irrelevant.
NMKS: If they had a comment box at the restaurant I would have suggested a name change to “Wait Town Brewery”. Time to get seated: 15 minutes. Time elapsed between ordering and receiving food: 25-minutes. Time to get the check after our nacho plate was cleared: 15-minutes. Adding all of that up…drop the 5, carry the 2…my TI-83 Plus* tells me that we waited a total of 55-minutes. I know, I know, waiting 55-minutes isn’t the end of the world, I agree, but we exhausted our list of small-talk topics during the first 15-minutes and spent the remaining time listening to Tristan chew ice cubes and watching the other tables have a lot more fun than us.
*I’d like to acknowledge our generous sponsor, Texas Instruments, who loves rigorous scientific research almost as much as nachos. Thanks, Texas Instruments, we couldn’t do this without your continued and generous support. When did you say we would be receiving our microcontrollers and 24-bit delta-sigma ADCs?
Server interaction
Cabra: Stacie Jo was our waitress, but she never introduced herself. I got her name off the receipt. We saw her for maybe a total of 3 minutes during our two hours at the restaurant, during which she lied to us about how big an order of nachos would be. She didn’t even bring us the food. Additionally, Plank Town is one of those restaurants where they leave a huge jug of water on the table to serve yourself so we didn’t see her for refills either. Part of me likes self-serving water because it seems that everytime someone comes around with a pitcher to top off my drink I just end up with a huge glass of ice*. With a table pitcher, I can hold back the impending ice-valanche with a utensil and save my teeth some discomfort. However, a different part of me does not like self-serving water because there is a 55% chance I will knock it over playing the game Not My Arms.
*I am so on the European train of no ice in my drinks. It’s too cold. Remember the last post where I mentioned I don’t like cold things? On the rare occasion that I eat ice cream I always warm it up a bit in the microwave.
NMKS: I don’t think that I could pick our server out of a lineup. I also don’t think that Laura actually likes ice cream. Here’s my evidence: (1) Laura claims that she doesn’t like cold things (2) when we go to Dairy Queen she only orders off of the Hot Eats menu, never from the Cool Treats (3) the other day she was eating chunks of frozen mango straight from the bag on a 38F day. First of all, her mango eating demonstrates that she does indeed like cold things. Secondly, nobody goes to Dairy Queen for the Hot Eats, except our friend Enrique who loves hot dogs, but even Enrique goes to Dairy Queen for the Cool Treats not the hot dog; the hot dog is just a bonus. The only people I trust less than politicians, meteorologists, artificial sweeteners, and Snidely Whiplash are people that dislike ice cream.
TNW: I would happily review my interaction with Stacey Jo, but outside of seeing her hair whip around a corner 30 minutes after she lied to us about the size of a platter of nachos, I’m not sure we were ever in the same room. Instead, I’d like to second the sentiment outlined above by Kory; Dairy Queen’s “Hot Eats” are nothing more than hot garbage microwaved in a vat of their own filth and served as an afterthought for drunk patrons who stumble in too inebriated to realize they aren’t in a McDonald’s. Anyone who is so depraved that they would knowingly walk into a DQ and place an order that didn’t feature ice cream must hate the frozen dairy treat so much that they would take every opportunity to cultivate the false narrative that they “don’t like cold foods”. It’s the only logical explanation.
Cabra: Readers be warned, the above statement is coming from a person who eats at Wendy’s 4-6 times per week. I don’t know if that makes him a true expert or a fraud, because Wendy’s kinda sucks. Chili? On a fast food menu? I might as well order a colon cleanse.
Presentation
TNW: I’ve come to the conclusion that these nachos must have been assembled using the “not my arms” method, in which the arms used for the assembly of the plate belong to a blindfolded individual standing directly behind the cook overseeing the construction of the final platter. I haven’t ruled out a gruesome injury to the hands of the primary nacho assembler that necessitated this drastic course of action, but my guess is this was simply a fun way to shake up the monotony of a rainy Saturday in the kitchen. Either way, it is clear that the individual who selected the delicious, well prepared, and balanced assortment of toppings is not the same person who haphazardly threw a pile of chips on a plate, drizzled 3 of them with cheese and placed a quarter of an un-diced avocado on the side. Further, it would defy all logic for the individual who painstakingly selected a delicious cut of perfectly cooked steak to decide the optimal way to distribute that steak over a plate of $18 nachos would be to drop the entire cut on top so that the rest of the ingredients were entirely obscured. In summation, the presentation left something to be desired.
Cabra: Tris’ summary is pretty spot-on. In fact, we all had reactions to the initial presentation, which are as follows:
And for the record, the only time I appreciate a good round of “not my arms” is when it involves a dog. You can see why knocking over a water glass is inevitable.
NMKS: I’ve eaten this plate of nachos before, but not at Planktown or another restaurant; I was inside my house and was dangerously low on food reserves because I hadn’t been to the grocery store in weeks. In a desperate attempt to abate my hanger, I hobbled together the dregs of the refrigerator and managed to create some semblance of a meal. There is no acceptable excuse for a restaurant to serve a plate of nachos with such scant toppings unless a massive solar flare completely destroys the electrical grid, throwing civilization into utter chaos.
Chip to topping ratio
TNW: The chip to topping ratio at Planktown serves as an excellent example of the pitfalls data scientists may be lured into by merely considering the average of a distribution. Much like the allocation of wealth in our great nation, an alarmingly small percentage of chips held all of the topping power at our table. Although the overall chip to topping ratio left something to be desired (the sturdy chips at Planktown could have easily accommodated 3 times the cheese and salsa they were given), the total amount of toppings per chip wasn’t entirely disappointing. However, the median chip was alarmingly deprived of even a drizzle of cheese or drop of salsa. A stark contrast was drawn between the one percenters perched on top, lording their cheesey, salsa coated edges over the naked, buried and, presumably, afraid chips on which these privileged few were perched.
NMKS: “Median chip coverage” is an informative metric that helps paint a fuller picture when used in tandem with “chip to topping ratio.” Imagine a scenario in which a football-sized mound of chips was evenly covered by a paltry layer of cheese and salsa juice. Yes, the MCC. would be high, every chip having favorable topping coverage, but without considering CTTR, one would be misled into thinking that there was a plethora of toppings.
Cabra and I have discussed flagrant topping imbalance in the past and have concluded that it isn’t a big issue if direct action is taken to redistribute the resources or if the people eating don’t mind eating a mix of smothered chips and barren chips. Is it fair to let a small subset of tortilla chips horde all of the toppings? Is it fair to take from the topping-rich chips and dole their wealth out to those chips with less? Did those chips on top work harder to amass their assets or was it good fortune that they wound up sitting on top of the pile? Does every chip truly have a fair shot at becoming draped in delicious toppings regardless of their initial placement within the pile?
Cabra: This category carries the most weight for me, unlike these chips which didn’t carry any weight due to a severe lack of toppings. Koko and Tris were way too generous in their evaluation, so I’m about to drop some truth: these were the most boring, lazy, topping-deprived, uninspiring nachos I have ever eaten. There were less than 25 kernels of corn on the entire plate, not even a full tablespoon of cheese sauce, a third of a piece of avocado that had been tickled/mangled with a knife but ultimately not even sliced more than half a millimeter (side note: wtf?! How is that even possible? Check the photo), an afterthought of red and green decoration that I won’t even give the respect of naming after a sustainable food, and steak. These toppings are an insult to all nachos. From this point forward, I will no longer refer to this food as “nachos”, but will call it Chip Plate.
Price
Cabra: The price of this chip plate was absolute bullshit. For $18 worth of chips, all three of us left Planktown hungrier than we went in. I’m still livid about paying $1 for less than half of an avocado that wasn’t even fully cut into pieces. That damn avocado chunk is probably my least favorite aspect of this entire experience. Is this what rage feels like? Hormones, man.
TNW: I’m certainly upset with the $1 we paid for 30 cents worth of avocado, but I’m significantly more upset that we paid $11 for, at most, 20 chips. I was also quite surprised that adding steak to our nachos cost $6 and our server didn’t feel this price merited a disclaimer when we placed our order. While the steak was delicious and an ample amount was included, even the stoned zombies that construct my burritos at Chipotle have the decency to inform me that “the guac is extra, dude”. Given the glaring flaws in construction and the limited quantity, these nachos were worth $10 at best. It doesn’t helped that an additional charge of $16 was billed to my credit card, pushing us towards an absurd dollar to chip ratio well over one and a half!
NMKS: For $18, I would have much rather bought a $3.29 Nacho Bellgrande from Taco Bell, picked up a $3.47 6-pack of Immodium A-D capsules from Walmart, and donated the remaining $11.24 to the ACLU. At least in that scenario, I would have consumed a sufficient number of calories, had a plan in place to safeguard against the impending bout of diarrhea, and felt better about my life choices by giving to the greater good. Alternatively, I could have gone to the horse track and put $18 on Papa’s Slippers winning the six furlong dirt race. If he won, I would have walked away with $54, if he lost, I would’ve left with $0 and an empty stomach, which is exactly how I left Plank Town Brewery.
Overall Taste
Cabra: The one thing this Chip Plate had going for it was that it was actually good. Everything tasted like it should, and the single bite I had that was more than just chip was wonderful. The chips were actually the best part, but I’m not chip picky. Give me a bag of Juanitas and a block of Tillamook cheese and I’m good to go!
TNW: Most of the “nachos” that I consumed were simply housemade tortilla chips topped with salt and raw disappointment. Fortunately for Planktown, the chips themselves were first-rate, so this wasn’t entirely unenjoyable. Similarly, with the exception of a few flavorless beans, the ingredients adorning the nachos were all excellent. The salsa had a great flavor and just the right amount of bite and the steak was cooked and seasoned to perfection. I was somewhat dubious when the menu noted the nachos were made with a cheese sauce, but the sauce ended up being a truly pleasant surprise. Unfortunately, I was only able to eat one chip that had every topping (cheese, salsa, beans, steak and avocado) due to the incredibly poor construction of the nachos. This single chip was superb, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the frustration of so many naked chips.
NMKS: See above. Actually, these nachos were delicious, among the best I’ve tasted in Eugene. I’ve probably said this more than once in the past, but I am a sucker for housemade chips. These ones were wonderful. I’ve never told anyone this secret, but I have multiple tortilla chip fantasies including: 1) filling a bathtub with chips and eating my way out and 2) diving into a vault brimming with tortilla chips much akin to Scrooge McDuck swimming in his stash of gold.
If I go back to Plank Town for nachos, I’ll forgo the meat add-on and ¼-wedge of avocado and just tell the server that there’s an extra $5 tip with their name on it if they get the nacho chef to go beastmode with the toppings.
Level of Drunkenness
Cabra: Sober as Triscuit on a Tuesday at 9:00 am (because he’s still asleep).
TNW: Sober as a nun and regretted every minute of that decision.
NMKS: −273.15°C a.k.a. absolute zero.
Company
NMKS: This was the first time that Laura and I hung out with Tristan outside of a frisbee field. It was a little jarring to see him wearing something other than athletic shorts and a t-shirt. To me, he’d become a cartoon character of sorts, always wearing the same outfit. So this experience was similar to seeing Charlie Brown wearing an oxford shirt with slacks and penny loafers. Once the initial shock wore off, things started to feel more like a three-way Tinder date, but one that would be portrayed in an NBC sitcom. The only thing missing was a laugh track.
Cabra: Triscuit added a nice balance because Kory and I could make fun of him instead of just making fun of each other. I am immediately drawn to people who I can say incredibly insulting and vulgar things to and not only do they return it but raise the bar. Both Tristan and Kory fall into that category, so naturally I like them both. There’s something about them that just makes me say horrible things of which I wouldn’t ever say to anyone else for fear of being shunned. It is a special and rare relationship.
TNW: It’s the 3rd week of Junior High and everyone has nearly forgotten that you’re the kid who was kissed on the lips by their mom when she dropped you off on the first day of school. You enter the lunchroom with a mixture of apprehension, fear, and a well earned hunger worked up during 3rd period PE. Then, across the crowded room, you see them; the cool kids. You lock eyes, and before you can look away, one of them smiles and beckons you to join them. A swooping feeling of joy overcomes your entire body as you slowly walk across the room, taking in the mixed envy and adulation of your usual mealtime compatriots, to take your rightful spot nestled in the warm glow of the cool kids table. You know that this moment won’t last forever, but goddamnit does it feel good. That feeling of joyous social invincibility is what I found myself wrapped in at Planktown Brewery with Laura “Nachopacabra” Ptak and “Nacho Man Kory Savage”. It was the greatest afternoon of my adult life, and I will chase that feeling for the rest of my days.
Overall
NMKS: Assigning a rating to these nachos is difficult. They are objectively and subjectively better than most of the previous plates we’ve reviewed and the only sticking points are the serving size and price for add-ons. However, nacho science is holistic and all factors have to be considered when writing a review. That being said, I give these nachos a 2-chip rating and hope that the management reads this review, makes a few tweaks, and puts out a 2.0 version of their nachos, which could easily be a 4+ chip plate. I’m more than happy to lend my services and beta test their revised nachos.
Cabra: 1 chip. If we changed our name to “Take it up a Chip Plate”, then I would give it 1.5 chips for relevance.
TNW: 1.5 chips. I’m sure on a different day, under different circumstances, Planktown’s nachos could be excellent. But on the 21st day of January in the year of our Lord, two thousand and seventeen, they were incredibly disappointing.
