I Tried the Chili From 5 Dine-In Chains & the Best Delivered Perfectly Balanced Flavors
It's time to fire up the stove and ready your taste buds because it's officially National Chili Month. It only makes sense for the 31 days of October to carry this honor. Of all the delicious soups out there, I can think of no other that's more closely associated with fall. It's deeply ingrained in the culture of the season and I, for one, wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course, when we talk about chili, the bowl full of goodness that pops into one person's head may be wildly different from the mental image conjured by another. Many different chili recipes exist, and I've found that preferences depend heavily on where you're from in the United States.
There seems to be an endless debate across the country around whether or not beans and tomatoes belong in chili, and people from Texas, Kansas City, and Cincinnati all have clashing opinions on the subject. The only ingredients that appear to be consistent across all recreations are chili peppers, of course, and meat (and even that is sometimes stripped out for a vegetarian alternative).
Despite all these differences, though, a love for chili remains and I think its easy-to-cook nature additionally helps it to maintain its status and popularity. It's for these reasons that you will also find the soup variety on menus at many popular restaurant chain menus. Each establishment naturally has its own recipe, flair, and chosen garnishes, and I recently tried out five different cupfuls from BJ's, Chili's, Outback, Twin Peaks, and Texas Roadhouse, to find my new go-to this autumn. Let the chain chili cook-off commence.
Here's how each restaurant's version ranked in descending order from my least favorite to the overall best.
Chili's
Calories: 210
Fat: 12 g (Saturated Fat: 4.5 g)
Sodium: 950 mg
Carbs: 13 g (Fiber: 1 g, Sugar: 2 g)
Protein: 11 g
This specific cup of chili has a lot riding on it considering it's the namesake of its restaurant. The founder of the grill and bar Larry Levine was inspired to create the recipe and eventually the restaurant brand after a chili cook-off in Terlingua, Texas, in 1967. The rest is history and that first location has multiplied into over 1,500 worldwide, all with the original chili still proudly on the menu.
Now, this is more of a Texas-style chili, meaning it does not incorporate beans or tomatoes, but rather sticks to a simple combination of beef, onions, and a signature blend of spices. Both cups and bowls of the hearty mix are available, but I went with the smaller cup for $5.59. It also came with cheese and tortilla strips for garnishing.
The look: Almost disturbingly dark. Its hue is hardly red at all, leaning further into the dark brown, nearly black range. As promised, ground meat appears to be the chief attraction and the only visible ingredient before I sprinkled on the already-melted together shredded cheddar cheese and tortilla bits.
The taste: The thick consistency and simple meat-focused makeup remind me of the substance you would find topping a Coney dog. However, the taste is simply reminiscent of salt and more salt. As the chili first hit my tongue I could tell for a brief moment that the meat and seasonings had good flavor, but that quickly dissipated into a sodium-infused mess that had me reaching for a sip of water for relief. I wondered if I had just received a bad batch—perhaps a salt shaker toppled over in the kitchen. But, if this is truly the correct recipe and proportions, I'm unsure how this chili has lasted for nearly 60 years.
Twin Peaks
Calories: 240
Fat: 16 g (Saturated Fat: 6 g)
Sodium: 680 mg
Carbs: 10 g (Fiber: 3 g, Sugar: 4 g)
Protein: 15 g
With its cozy lodge-in-the-woods type ambiance, it's no surprise that the sports bar Twin Peaks offers up its own version of the soul-warming stew. However, the restaurant puts its own spin on the classic dish by swapping traditional ground beef for brisket. It comes with red onions and pepper jack cheese on top and is served alongside a slice of grilled sourdough bread. I went with a cup of the chili for $5.99, though bowls are also available for $7.99 and guests can also order it as part of a soup and salad or soup and sandwich lunch combo.
The look: I have to give the chain credit for its to-go packaging and presentation–significantly more organized and less hazardous than that of other restaurants. Inside my chili cup, however, what I saw can only be described as a reddish-brown meat sludge adorned by white cheese and what looked like pickled slivers of onion. A bit perplexing to say the least.
The taste: My confusion continued as I took my first few bites. There seems to be two different styles of meat at play here. One–which makes up the majority of the soup's base–is finely minced and similar in both look and even taste to a spicy chorizo. The other is more elusive yet bulkier chunks of brisket which were unfortunately dry and rather chewy. No beans and hardly any seasoned broth fill the cup, but there are a few small tomato pieces floating around. Minus the brisket mishap, it's a decent pick with level spice and a bold taste. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was more similar to a dip than anything else and that I should be scooping it up with tortilla chips rather than a spoon.
Outback Steakhouse
Calories: 200
Fat: 14 g (Saturated Fat: 6 g)
Sodium: 760 mg
Carbs: 7 g (Fiber: 2 g, Sugar: 3 g)
Protein: 12 g
Outback's French Onion Soup and its picture-worthy cheese pulls may just be one of my favorite items on the Aussie-themed chain's meaty menu. So, I hoped that some of that magic would transfer over to another one of the restaurant's spoonable options, the Tasmanian Chili. The soup's core ingredient is steak, which is only fitting for a steakhouse. Like the last two options, beans were left off the ingredient list, but it does include tomatoes and promises plenty of spice. I paid $5.99 for a cup rather than a bowl of the concoction and I have to say, Outback automatically earned some bonus points in my book for throwing in an entire loaf of brown bread and butter to my small to-go order.
The look: The most watered down of the bunch with much more broth and much less beef compared to other chains. It is fairly colorful, though, with red tomato lumps, orange shreds of cheese, and diced green onions, all poking out from under the surface.
The taste: Beware, mate, this chili variation has some serious spice to it. It's the hottest in this entire taste test. But, it also packs some great flavors of smoky chili powder, hot peppers, and onion. The steak is also perfectly tender, there's just not nearly enough of it to go around. Because of this, and the thinner consistency, the cup ends up tasting more like a more boldly spiced vegetable soup with beef tossed in than a substantial and thick-set chili. I prefer something with a little more body–a soup that eats like a meal rather than a light appetizer.
BJ's Restaurant and Brewhouse
Calories: 400
Fat: 26 g (Saturated Fat: 13 g)
Sodium: 1,109 mg
Carbs: 22 g (Fiber: 5 g, Sugar: 4 g)
Protein: 19 g
BJ's version, dubbed "Piranha Chili," sounds just as intimidating as the offering from Outback. But, come to find out, the stew is actually named after the beer used in its recipe. It's one of the chain's in-house brews, the Piranha Pale Ale. The ale is added to a simmered sauce which then combines with meat and savory beans creating the final piquant product. The brewhouse offers cups, bowls, and bread bowls (yum) filled with the chili. I went with the former for $7.49. Each order is also supposed to come with jack and cheddar cheese, sour cream, and green onion adornments, but I guess my local BJ's decided to skip that step as the staff assembled my to-go order.
The look: As pale as the ale. It's very light for a chili, exuding a burnt orange-type color. (If blonde chili were a thing, it would probably look something like this). It's exceptionally thick and chunky though, with what appears to be equal parts beans and meat.
The taste: The most quintessential and comforting thus far. The heat level is about as mild as chili comes and the spices overall are a bit subdued. However, it has a familiar, home-cooked flavor and a creamy texture that's very likable–almost like a mix between chili and a velvety tomato soup. The beans, which appear to all be pinto, are tender and make for a good pairing with the small yet frequent nuggets of beef. It's quite enjoyable overall and I imagine it would have been near unbeatable with the proper cheese, sour cream, and onion garnishes.
Texas Roadhouse
Calories: 210
Fat: 10 g (Saturated Fat: 4 g)
Sodium: 640 mg
Carbs: 14 g (Fiber: 4 g, Sugar: 3 g)
Protein: 16 g
True Texas-style chili is whipped up sans beans or tomatoes–similar to the longstanding recipe found at Chili's—thereby putting the emphasis solely on the meat and spices. So, it's curious that a chain restaurant named Texas Roadhouse would ditch this culinary norm for a recipe that gives both meat and beans a shared spotlight. It must be its Midwestern roots taking over as the restaurant was actually launched in Clarksville, Ind. (It does seem that some restaurants offer a bean or no bean chili version, but at my location, it was all beans all the way.)
Nuances aside, at the steakhouse, the dish is known as Texas Red Chili and I snagged a cup of it at my nearest location for just $3.99. For a $0.99 upgrade, patrons can also enjoy a full bowl instead. Both sizes are served with shredded cheddar cheese, diced red onion, and saltine crackers on the side.
The look: The first thing I noticed was that my cup was given to me about half empty, or half full depending on how you look at it. The contents are not quite as dark as Chili's creation but in that realm. And, from the top, it looks like a conglomeration of mostly meat with some scattered beans.
The taste: Rich, savory, and worthy of a second cupful–which I was sad not to have access to. The restaurant doesn't specify the meat type used, but it's juicy and flavorful, tasting more like a ground chuck roast or steak rather than standard ground beef. I wouldn't be surprised if some of it was in fact steak–it's what the chain's famous for after all. I additionally found the beans–what I believe to be kidney beans–to be a fine addition that weaves substantiality into the mix. What impressed me the most though was the balance of seasonings. All the basic tastes are covered from a touch of sweetness to umami and salty notes to spice from jalapenos and chilis that builds at the back of the throat. It was simply a cup of flavor and warmth and the fact that four of the chain's infamous dinner rolls with honey butter came with my order, made this choice a no-brainer.
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