Recess Nachos: A Field Day for Your Inner Child

There was a time when snack standards didn’t exist. When flavor trumped logic, when sugar and cheese collided with reckless abandon, and when the only thing you worried about was whether someone would steal your seat on the tire swing.

Today, we honor that lawless joy with Recess Nachos—a snack pile inspired by the unsupervised chaos of playground cuisine.

We start with a base of cafeteria-grade tortilla chips. The kind that are somehow both stale and too sharp. Next comes the cheese—the unnaturally orange kind, straight from a squeeze pouch or a plastic pump. From there, we dive into the snack bin: crumbled cheese curls, chopped-up hot dogs, maybe a rogue chicken nugget or two. Ketchup drizzle? Don’t judge. You did worse in third grade.

There’s no guac. There’s no salsa. But there is a pack of fruit snacks on the side, which you absolutely earned for surviving dodgeball without crying.

Recess Nachos aren’t about taste. They’re about freedom. The freedom to pile garbage onto a tray and call it a meal. The freedom to run the bases with cheese dust on your face. The freedom to say, “Yes, I will eat nachos with chocolate milk and I will do it again.”

This isn’t a snack.
It’s a field day for your inner child.

Image created using DALL·E.