10 Fast Food Hot Dogs, Ranked Worst To Best

A hot dog is an all-American classic. Like most American fare, hot dogs were brought to us from a different country. More specifically, we have Germans to thank for this one. They brought sausages to the U.S. back in the 1800s, where they were first sold from food carts in New York City and on Coney Island.

Now in the 21st century, hot dogs are a fixture of national culture, served up at baseball games, celebrated through eating contests, and presented as the star of summertime cookouts. Even in everyday life, they're never too far from reach, sold by plenty of fast food chains. These restaurants each put their own spin on franks, and if you're wondering which one does it best, you're in luck. Today, we're ranking a slew of fast food hot dogs, including the good, the bad, and the underdogs. 

For this taste test, I picked up 10 dogs from different joints. I even included a few spots like Costco and Sheetz, which aren't technically classified as fast food, but I think we can all agree that the popularity of their dogs warrants them a spot in the race. I took a closer look at everything from meat type and taste to bun integrity and price. Then, I got to ranking.

Hot food at Dairy Queen started in 1958 with its Brazier food system. You might still see the trademark used on some retro locations, though most have switched over to the DQ Grill & Chill concept. The original name referred to the charcoal grill (aka brazier), which was used to cook food items like hamburgers and hot dogs.

So, you could say hot dogs are something of a DQ classic. But they don't delight with a classic kind of taste. I'm afraid the past 70 years haven't been kind to these franks. It's clear that they are no longer made on a grill. Instead, DQ's website reveals that the beef hot dogs are actually steamed. This way, they come out with no char marks and looking pretty perfect on the bun — almost too perfect. It appeared to me like a fake, shellacked hot dog, and the taste was in line with this sentiment. The dog itself is watery on the inside with hardly any flavor. Meanwhile, the bun doesn't have as much give as it should, so it fell to the chewy side.

Even if it's not the tastiest (and my least favorite overall), this is what I would expect from an ice cream shop hot dog. It's a stopgap solution for those times when you're looking for a quick hot dog fix. Plus, by the time you smear some ketchup or mustard on it, you barely even notice what's hiding underneath.

I'm situated here in Columbus, Ohio, mere hours from Cincinnati — known as The Queen City, but more importantly, as the birthplace of Skyline Chili. So, it only felt right to include the joint in this taste test.

Everyone seems to have an opinion about Skyline's Cincinnati-style cinnamon-infused, beanless chili. But what about the hot dogs buried underneath all that chili and cheese on the menu? It felt like a crime, but I ordered a Coney from the restaurant, hold all the toppings, to see what the plain hot dog is all about. What I discovered is that it looks very tiny, shriveled, and sad without its garnishes. It's the smallest frank in the running by far, reaching maybe half the size of other options, and has perhaps an ounce more flavor than the one from Dairy Queen. It's juicy enough, yet its meaty taste is muted. I will admit to liking the bun, though. The chain actually steams its buns, resulting in an extra-soft texture and a supple white bread taste.

Skyline's Coney dogs have earned their place in American food lore. But it turns out, they're not all that when you strip them down to their bare bones. I would say they're better left as a vessel for chili, cheese, mustard, and onions. And if you're not the biggest fan of Skyline's chili, don't expect to find solace in one of its unadorned hot dogs either.

Drive-ins, diners, and dogs. Sonic serves up a few different styles of hot dogs at its locations. The chain takes a page out of Skyline Chili's book with its Chili Cheese Coneys, including a massive footlong quarter-pound Coney. It also dabbles in corn-batter wrapped corn dogs. However, I had my sights set on its classic All-American dog.

The all-beef hot dog is supposed to come topped with relish, diced onions, yellow mustard, and ketchup on a warm bakery bun. I simply ordered it with a quick zigzag of mustard, though, to get to the core of its taste. Plopped in a paper tray, it came out looking like a very average, everyday hot dog. A bit dry –– not stale, but not exactly fresh either –– the bun was nothing special. It's just like the kind you would find in a discounted 12-pack on the grocery store shelf. It also seemed slightly too big for the hot dog. As for the sausage itself, it didn't have a super strong, savory flavor, despite being 100% beef.

This is the same kind of hot dog you'd get at a football or baseball game. The ones that come in aluminum foil sleeves, and you're not quite sure how long they've been sitting in the warmer. I would never turn down a dog like this, especially in the midst of a heated matchup and washed down by a pint of beer. But let's be honest, it isn't a high-quality hot dog.

You can get a pretty "shweet" deal on hot dogs at Sheetz. The convenience store edges out even Costco in terms of price, currently offering its dogs starting at just $1 a pop (at least that's what they cost at my nearest location). People eat up this price and also go crazy over the whole made-to-order schtick. You can add virtually anything you want to your frank, from cheese and condiments to garnishes like relish, sauerkraut, caramelized onions, and chili. Just keep in mind, some will cost you extra. So be careful, or else that dollar dog might add up to $5.

I bypassed the add-ons and ended up with a hot dog that was surprisingly decent by gas station standards — and even more appealing than a few other bland restaurant picks. It wasn't grilled, but it tasted like it was warmed either on a roller or in the microwave. Sheetz doesn't come right out and say what meat is included, but a customer on Facebook notes that the hot dogs are made with beef, chicken, and pork. I would say the flavor aligns with this. Salty with light spice, it tastes like your classic meat mashup hot dog. The smashed bun doesn't add to or detract from the experience.

Is it the tastiest hot dog out there? No. But it has decent flavor, and you can't beat the price. Plus, you can always dress it up with a pretzel bun or a colorful array of adornments.

Rally's is not a place I frequent often. Neither is its sister restaurant Checkers, but that has more to do with geography than anything else. I didn't know what to expect from the chain's hot dog (let alone any of its other foods), and I was actually pleasantly surprised by what I found.

There are two frank varieties available at Rally's, including a chili dog smothered in onions, ketchup, and mustard, and a standard grilled hot dog. I ordered the latter, thinking it would come plain, but apparently mustard and ketchup are automatic toppings. Luckily, this didn't become an issue. Even as a typical mustard-only person, I liked the combo of sweet, sharp, and tangy flavors. The all-beef dog underneath wasn't half bad either. The fact that it's grilled makes all the difference, giving it a richer, more umami-filled flavor. It was also tender and a good size.

My only real critique concerns the bun. Even though the menu description says it's toasted, I don't think it really was. Instead, one side felt soft while the other was oddly hard and crunchy. Overall, though, not a bad dog. It's also quite affordable, ringing up under $2. And keep in mind, you're getting an elevated flavor for that price; the kiss of the grill alone puts it a step above several others in this lineup.

Swensons is an Ohio-based treasure. The restaurant offers drive-in style, and locally, we love it for that. There's just something charming about pulling into a parking spot instead of zipping around a drive-thru. It makes you want to throw on a poodle skirt (or a leather jacket for the guys) and sit and stay awhile.

Swensons is best known for its Galley Boy double cheeseburger and milkshakes, but it extends into other Midwest favorites as well, like sloppy Joes, BLTs, fried bologna sandwiches, and hot dogs. The standard dog is fairly simple: just a frank planted on a toasted bun. It looks unassuming until you realize both the bun and the dog have some char marks. Grilled flavors incoming. It has a similar bite and savor as Rally's, yet manages to present even more of a backyard cookout flair. The bun was equally tasty — not only grilled but also buttery.

Even without condiments or toppings, this hot dog is pretty tasty. It's got a beefy flavor (though Swensons doesn't confirm that it's all beef) and a satisfying texture that makes it feel more home-grilled than fast food. And there's more where that came from. Swensons also serves up fan-favorite chili-covered Coney-style hot dogs. Some customers have gone so far as to call them the "Best Coney dogs in the world!!" Watch out, Skyline. It looks like you've got some in-state competition.

Ah, the Costco $1.50 hot dog. It's debatably more famous than any other fast food hot dog — and technically, it's not even considered fast food. People are obviously attracted to the frank because of its unwavering low cost. The hot dog and drink combo has sat at the same price since it was introduced at a hot dog cart outside the store in 1984, and that's not changing anytime soon. But it's offering more than just a good value. Customers keep coming back because the famed Costco hot dog also boasts a great, quality taste.

Kirkland Signature is the brand behind the food court's all-beef hot dogs. They weigh in at a quarter pound and measure about 8 inches long — roughly 2 inches more than your average hot dog (yes, I really did measure mine). Beyond its impressive size, the first thing you notice is the snap. It's firm and satisfying, then it releases a rush of juiciness with each bite. The flavor is also more complex than most, almost reminiscent of Polish kielbasa or a German-style sausage. The bun isn't quite big enough to contain it, but it's soft, fluffy, and does the job.

If you're looking for the most bang for your buck, this is absolutely the hot dog to pick. For just $1.50 — drink included — you're picking up a hearty frank that could easily cost triple that elsewhere. Still, I did encounter a few others that, flavorwise, I liked even better –– hard as that may be to believe.

Just like Culver's, Freddy's is a Midwest-born restaurant chain specializing in burgers and frozen custard. The two really are sneakily similar, right down to the delicious cheese curds. But one thing Freddy's has that Culver's doesn't is hot dogs (Culver's does have a corn dog on its books, but no simple beef and bun frank).

The Freddy's dog is made with 100% Vienna beef, and it has a similar look and taste to Costco's hot dog. It's not quite as big, yet it's just as snappy and savory. What wowed me the most, though, was the bun. Freddy's doesn't stick to an overdone American-style white bun. Oh no. It ups the ante by opting for thick and buttery slices of Texas toast. Just imagine two pieces of golden toast from Raising Cane's, but with a plump beef hot dog nestled in the middle. Genius.

I would eat this bun without the hot dog and vice versa. I love the attention to detail with the bread here. It's unique, and it clearly makes for a standout creation. It's, without a doubt, one of my top choices. And now, all that's left to do is try the chain's supplementary chili cheese dog: same Vienna beef frank, same buttery Texas toast, now topped with meaty chili, shredded cheese, and diced onions. Sounds messy and mouthwatering.

Between the Five Guys, I don't know whose idea it was to make hot dogs this way. But it's absolutely delicious. The chain does something interesting with its all-beef hot dogs, splitting them lengthwise before plunking them down on the grill. The unique process yields handhelds that lay bun-up like a sub sandwich instead of frank-up and that taste the way you wish all hot dogs would.

This cooking method follows the same ideology as the chain's smash burgers, where more of the meat is in direct contact with the grill, creating singed and caramelized edges all the way around. The result is smoky and salty, but the bun (which is toasted too, by the way) balances it nicely, so it never feels too greasy or rich. Like Five Guys' burgers, its hot dogs are fully customizable, and I couldn't resist tacking on a few toppings out of the 15 available. I picked onions and relish, and both were top-notch. The relish is sweet and tangy, and the onions deliver a nice level of potency. I noticed that you can even add a burger patty to your hot dog, which sounds like either pure chaos or a brilliant fusion of American grub. I'd love to see how that one plays out.

The only thing that gave me pause was the price tag. It's easily the most expensive hot dog in the lineup – up to seven times the cost of others. It's a premium option for sure, but at that price, I would think twice before fetching another.

Shake Shack takes everything good about both Freddy's and Five Guys' hot dogs, combines them, and creates the top pick on this list. It's only fitting that the company, which got its start slinging hot dogs from a cart in the heart of New York City, sells the most masterful quick-serve frankfurter.

Like Freddy's, this hot dog is made from 100% Vienna beef. And I could tell just from the darker red tinge that it was going to be good (spoiler: it was). Then, Shake Shack cooks its franks using the same slice-and-grill method seen at Five Guys. So, the savory beef comes out tasting toasty, greasy, and just simply delicious. The bun is no slouch either. It may not be quite as unique and satisfying as the Freddy's Texas toast. But as a potato bun, it has that light sweetness that's amplified by a slathering of butter and the toasting process. I honestly didn't even mind that the bottom became a bit soggy under the weight of the juices. It was just part of the experience, and didn't affect the taste at all.

From beef to bun, this was the best fast food hot dog. It also comes at a more reasonable price than the one found at Five Guys, and there's no shortage of ways to dress it up. You can pile on anything from melty cheese on your Shake Shack hot dog to cherry peppers, bacon, and crispy onions, creating a frank to top all franks.

To rank these 10 hot dogs, I picked them up over the course of a few days, visiting drive-thrus, convenience stores, and even Costco's massive membership club. For such a simple item (just a bun and a dog), you'd think the rankings would be easy. But there was actually a decent amount that went into my assessments, including hot dog type and taste, cooking method, bun type and taste, price, and even customizability.

Some hot dogs are made with a blend of meats, while others use pure beef. I didn't think it would matter as long as it tasted good, but the undeniably best-tasting dogs were all made with 100% beef. Cooking method also played a big role. Grilled dogs tend to turn out better than those that are steamed or boiled. You get that little bit of char and smokiness that can't be beat.

For the bun, it needed to be soft and supple. I especially liked when it was toasted with a bit of butter, and Freddy's unique use of Texas toast was a total game-changer. I also looked at the price. It wasn't determinative by any means, but it was definitely something I took into account. For example, $7 for a hot dog seems a bit steep (cough cough, Five Guys). Lastly, I looked at garnish possibilities. I tried most hot dogs plain, but it's also a nice touch to have a list of toppings you can tack on to DIY your own perfect dog.