There are rules when it comes to nachos: The chips (corn, of course) need to be sturdy; otherwise, they'll become soggy under the weight of the real reason you ordered nachos in the first place: all that stuff that comes heaped on top. These chips should be baked so that the outer edges emerge golden, and never piled on top of one another. And most important, nachos shouldn't be fancy or tampered with. Save your pork belly, your foraged wild mushrooms, your ahi tuna and whatever other foodstuffs you find tempting for something else — never nachos. There are few places that manage to follow all these rules, but the Pioneer, a watering hole and Mexican joint, does nachos right. The chips — salty, thick and stiff — are arranged in a single layer (this kitchen realizes that an order of nachos isn't meant to emulate Everest), each one smeared with black beans and topped with either grilled chicken or beef, melted asadero cheese (a welcome change from cheddar), scallions, fresh jalapeños, pico de gallo and zigzags of Mexican crema. Every single chip receives the royal treatment, and each bite is better than the last.