8 Fast Food Chocolate Chip Cookies, Ranked Worst To Best

What are the words you would use to describe the taste of a top-tier chocolate chip cookie? Homemade? Fresh from the oven? Rich? Well-balanced? Chewy? Fudgy? Just one chip-studded cookie can be all of these things. This is the very reason why it not only owns the title of America's favorite cookie flavor but also one of the country's all-time favorite desserts in any category — you can typically find it buddied up next to ice cream, apple pie, and cupcakes in the polls.

But, of course, all the qualities that make chocolate chip cookies so beloved are the same qualities that make them difficult to replicate in a fast food setting. In an industry where everything is done to scale, speed is the name of the game, and shelf-stability is key, treats aren't usually passed through the drive-thru window dripping in nostalgia and delectability.

Even so, there are a handful of fast food cookies that defy the odds; some classic quick-service chains have created noteworthy cookie recipes. Recently, I rounded up eight of these chocolate chip and chocolate chunk confections to separate the ones that crumble under pressure from the ones that truly rise to the occasion. Keeping in mind ideal cookie standards — such as a balanced chip-to-dough ratio, rich and buttery flavor, and a texture that's not too soft but also not Chips Ahoy crunchy — I ranked each cookie from my least to most favorite.

If you're thinking that the addition of caramel — and salted caramel, no less — gives this baked good an unfair advantage, you're not alone. I assumed that very thing as I embarked upon this taste test, fully expecting to crown Arby's recipe as the crumb de la crumb. But, unfortunately, that's not the way the cookie crumbled.

Its brick-like presence wasn't a good start. It's large, both in diameter and thickness, in a pale beige tone rather than a more promising shade of golden brown. Chocolate morsels appear to be abundant, but before you're awarded with those, you have to make your way through the crumbly cookie fringes that nearly disintegrated into my mouth on contact. I would almost describe it as mealy, as it felt coarse and as though the sugar granules weren't properly incorporated into the remainder of the dough.

The chips themselves were lifesavers. Made up of semi-sweet chocolate, they were melty and indulgent. The caramel, on the other hand, didn't leave such a positive impression. It lives in little inconspicuous pockets throughout the cookie. I didn't even notice they were there until I hit a more solidified substance that immediately suctioned to my teeth. Meanwhile, I didn't taste the salt at all — not even a single grain or flake. Consistency is key when it comes to chocolate chip cookies — just as important as a balanced sweetness and a favorable ratio of cookie to chips. Unfortunately, Arby's caramel and chocolate fusion failed to meet any of these criteria, which is why it fell straight to the bottom of the batch.

As an ardent ice cream lover, you normally wouldn't catch me driving away from a bustling Chick-fil-A location without a milkshake in hand. The flurry of classic and fresh seasonal flavors beckons, and who am I to deny myself a frozen dessert to go along with my chicken sandwich and waffle fries?

All of this is to say that I have never given any of the chain's other treats a second thought, including the chocolate chunk cookie. I will admit, it earned some of my favor from the jump with that simple distinction of chocolate "chunk" rather than "chip" — what I think makes for a more adult version of the confection. It also includes a combination of both milk chocolate and semi-sweet dark chocolate. Two for the price of one.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly, and I fully expected Chick-fil-A to come into this taste test strong, just as it does in nearly every other food category. It was only when I got home and took a closer look that I realized there are oats in this cookie. Sure, had I read the fine print I would've known this cookie was made with oats, but frankly, I felt betrayed. I'll acknowledge that the oats give it some extra body and texture, but they also made the cookie quite dry — an unpleasant surprise when you're expecting smooth and moist bites. The square chips (of both chocolate types) were more crumbly than melty, and everything leaned into the stale territory with a strange crunchiness around the edges. Not a great showing oat-verall. 

When I pulled up to the drive-thru speaker at Burger King and asked for cookies, I was met with a decent serving of confusion. I had to utter the words "chocolate chip cookies" no less than three times, leading me to believe I might've been the first person to ever order them at this location. Suffice to say, these cookies are perhaps not so popular, and I have some hunches as to why.

These cookies are two, maybe three, biters at best, so the two-pack was a good call on BK's part. The look of them is a bit worrying, though. They have a pale, almost undercooked appearance that additionally carries over into the taste and texture. Typically, I'm not completely averse to this — who doesn't like the taste of gooey cookie dough? But, all it really does in this instance is make for an extra soft cookie — so soft that I fear it would deteriorate on impact when dunked into a glass of milk, leaving you to fish out the soggy leftovers with a spoon. Additionally, I'd be remiss not to mention the level of sweetness, sugary to the point that it's reminiscent of frosting.

If ultra-soft and ultra-sweet chocolate chip cookies are your thing, then hey, you just might be into these. But that profile doesn't match up with my taste preferences. There are whispers that Otis Spunkmeyer is the brand behind the Burger King cookies, and at first, the thought of reuniting with the cafeteria cookies I was raised on piqued my interest. But after noting no obvious resemblance between the two, I wouldn't let this fact sway you one way or another.

If you ask me, the popular Jimmy John's fast food cookie hit the cheat code: The sub sandwich chain enlisted the help of none other than Ghirardelli, only one of the most premium and well-respected chocolate makers in the United States. Not to mention, it goes big with not just one but three different kinds of chocolate, including milk chocolate, bittersweet chocolate, and white confectionery chocolate. Both are bold moves, but there are some cracks in this cookie's foundation.

Let me start with the fact that this cookie is absolutely massive — on par with Arby's. Slap some icing on it, and you could call it a cookie cake. It's intimidating, but at the same time, it's always nice to know you're getting some bang for your buck. What's more overwhelming is the taste itself. There are heaps and heaps of different chocolate flavors all stacked on top of one another. It reminded me of Panera's famed Kitchen Sink cookie (which makes for a great ice cream sandwich, by the way), but it doesn't handle the complexity quite as well. That recognizable Ghirardelli richness is as clear as day. It's all a bit too much, though. And, of course, what stands out the most is the intense cocoa notes of the dominating bittersweet chocolate chips.

What I would have liked to see more of is the cookie base itself. It offers that Goldilocks texture of dense chewiness and is rippled with indulgent flavors of caramel and molasses. Pair this just right consistency with just milk chocolate and white chocolate chips–or even white chocolate chips and I think Jimmy John's (backed by Ghirardelli) would have landed much higher in the rankings.

From muffins to breakfast sandwiches and even some donut flavors — the chain's supposed claim to fame — I have found Tim Hortons to be unexceptional in most things. Sorry Canada. Its baked goods are never flat-out bad. They're just not the kind of recipes that make me hop out of bed in a hot pursuit of their delectability, or that leave me daydreaming about them into the afternoon. The chocolate chunk cookies from the coffeehouse follow this trend of mediocrity, though it does beat out some of the undercooked and overcrowded cookies that preceded it.

The top is crackly and reminded me of an oatmeal cookie rather than a chocolate chip — cue the residual trauma from the Chick-fil-A experience. Luckily, though, Tim Hortons didn't sneak in some unexpected oats. Rather, the cookie is delicately chewy — even muffin-like on the outskirts — with a bit of a floury taste. Most of the semi-sweet chunks huddle in a tight cluster in the middle of the confection, leaving the rest wanting for just a small taste of that chocolatey goodness. Center bites that feature all components at once weren't half bad, however.

I did notice a faint blueberry undertone as I munched on this cookie. I have to assume it was because it was butted up next to one of the chain's blueberry bagels or blueberry sour cream donuts, since I see no berries mentioned in the ingredient list. But I'm tempted to grab another one so that I can ensure my speculation is correct.

Before you ask, no, I did not pick up one of Subway's footlong cookie monstrosities. With a size and shape more like a table centerpiece or a boat to hold scoops of ice cream and sundae toppings, I think that creation deserves to be in a category of its own.

Instead, I stuck with one of the chain's standard, circular cookies — what I believe to be a cornerstone of the establishment. I can't remember a time when I went into a Subway location and wasn't met with a clear plastic display case of cookies buddied up next to the register (because no sub sandwich meal would be complete without a little sweet treat to finish it off). That's just the way it is and the way it's always been. And this may be an unpopular opinion, but I find these steadfast confections to be pretty tasty.

No, Subway's chocolate chip rounds aren't winning any awards for being fresh-baked or gourmet — their flat and uninspiring appearance clues you into this before you even take a bite. However, they have a nostalgic edge that makes them hard to pass up. Crispness around the fringes gives way to a center that's much easier to sink your teeth into. The core makeup gives off an almost sugar cookie-like essence. But paired up with plenty of chocolate pieces — hiding under the surface and not always visible from the top — it becomes a classic rendition. Throw in just the right amount of greasiness, and it quickly became one of my favorite fast food picks.

Cookie slinging at the Golden Arches began with what the chain dubbed McDonaldland cookies in 1974. They came in multiple flavors and in character shapes that encouraged kids to break the golden rule of eating: don't play with your food. Sadly, these treats have been banished to the Mickey D's archives. But that left room for the soft-baked chocolate chip cookies that we're all familiar with today to emerge on the menu in 2012.

The chain claims its treats — sold in packs of two — are "soft baked and chewy", but the two I received had a bit more sturdiness and crunch to them. I wasn't mad about it at all, though. With perfectly browned perimeters and gooier centers, these cookies satisfy the taste buds with a homemade flair. They taste as though someone's grandpa is stationed in McDonald's kitchens, ceaselessly whipping up batches. Either that, or Nestle Tollhouse has struck a deal with the franchise, providing endless droplets of dough — not homemade, but many would argue they offer the same level of soul-soothing flavor.

McDonald's doesn't overload its confections with chocolate chips. They're a bit sporadic and not always spread evenly from one cookie to the next. But since the remaining combination of flour, butter, sugar, and eggs can stand on its own — without being too cloying or too dry — it's not a problem in my book. These cookies are small yet crushable — I think I could easily polish off about six in one sitting. So for this reason and more, they are one of my top picks.

As soon as the Starbucks barista asked if I wanted my cookie warmed up, I knew it was over for a few other chains. I figured this level of care in the serving process was surely indicative of care in the recipe creation and baking process... and I was right.

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes this cookie so craveable. It's more so a culmination of all factors coming together to form what I would consider the best fast food chocolate chip cookie you're likely to find. It's a thick and sizable rendition — not quite as big as what you'll find at Jimmy John's or Arby's, but in the same ballpark. However, it lands perfectly in between dense and airy, as well as between doughy and crumbly. Everything tastes fresh, as though it were just pulled from the depths of the oven. The flavor of butter seeps through all the cookies' pores, and the chocolate chips themselves are what make this a quintessential choice. More than just a handful of semi-sweet chips were thrown into this single scoop of dough. So, when it's warmed up, every single bite is oozing with the taste of rich, molten chocolate. Yum.

I used to think that the widely adored cake pops or maybe even the cheese danishes were the pinnacle of Starbucks desserts. But I think the chocolate chip cookie might have these classics beat, thanks to its consistency and all-around commendable qualities.

There are some fast food cookies I'm confident will be raking in the dough for years to come. But others? I could see them falling off the fast food radar, replaced by other baked goods or frozen treats. To break down the options into these two distinct categories, I judged each chocolate chip (or chunk) cookie across three key categories: chips, texture, and flavor.

Chips are clearly central to the experience (this ingredient is baked in the name, after all) and could make or break a cookie. Too many kinds or a heavy-handed use of bittersweet chocolate made some feel overwhelmed. At the same time, though, a great handful of chips means nothing without a solid cookie base. Biting into a cookie for the first time, texture is bound to be the first thing you take note of. The best had golden, crispy edges and a soft, chewy center. Fast food cookies tend to lean more towards one side or the other, many times not displaying both, but some of the best did just that. Flavor would ideally be delicately sweet and rich (but not too rich) with a few lingering butter notes — which is exactly what I found in the Starbucks cookie. Throw in the element of homemade comfort, and the fast food cookie hierarchy was solidified.