10 Chain Restaurant Cheese Fries, Ranked Worst To Best

Some food pairings are just meant to be. It's as though they were written in the culinary stars. A few shining examples would be peanut butter and jelly, bacon and eggs, or chocolate and strawberries. Then, of course, there's my personal favorite: cheese and potatoes.

A spud hasn't truly lived until it's been blasted with a generous amount of melty fromage. Once it has been, it makes for a combination that's salty, savory, and downright soul-warming. Just think of all the comforting cheesy potato dishes out there, from hash brown casseroles to creamy au gratins. Cheese and potatoes show up in many forms, and for good reason. But in the world of fast food, the most common way you'll see the two buddied up is in a mouthwatering tray of cheese fries. There's no shortage of restaurants out there that smother their fries in melty cheese or cheese sauce, and from the outside, they may all look fairly similar. But once you dig in, you realize everything from fry cut to cheese type makes a difference in the taste.

Today, we're pulling back the cheesy curtain to find out which offering truly rises to the top. I sampled cheese fries from 10 fast-food chains. Each was judged on the fries themselves, including the cut, texture, and seasoning, and then on the cheese, including its flavor, consistency, quantity, and how well it complemented the potatoes. This is one of those rare scenarios where the cheesier, the better.

Wings. Beer. Sports. You didn't hear cheese fries in that slogan, did you? The spud-y side certainly isn't a main attraction at B-Dubs, nor is it listed outright on the menu (perhaps for good reason).

To order cheese fries at the sports bar, you'll need to locate classic french fries under the list of sides and take advantage of the option to load them up with a helping of shredded cheddar jack cheese — an upcharge, of course. You can also add things like the chain's famed dry rubs, bacon crumbles, chili, and hatch queso if you're feeling even wilder. I ordered just the cheese alone, and needless to say, I was disappointed with the batch of chips I was served. The fries themselves are very standard and nondescript, straight-cut fries. They're not thin enough to be shoestring, meaning they're one of the most boring types of fries out there. The cheese doesn't help its case. It wasn't applied evenly, and since it's melted cheese rather than a cheese sauce, it congeals into greasy cheese globs.

The entire experience reminded me of a flavorless plate of homemade nachos you would make in the microwave with shredded cheese from a bag. The kind of dish you would only eat because it's midnight and there's nothing else in the fridge. So, even with that last-ditch effort to sprinkle pepper on the top of these fries, they still landed in my last-place spot.

Before jumping into taste, let's take a moment to just appreciate White Castle's packaging. This design is a dream. It folds up like a box to transport. Then, it magically opens up into a plate format when it's time to dig in. Genius. Now, if only its contents were as innovative and noteworthy.

What we have here is the chain's classic crinkle-cut fries topped with melty cheese. On the menu, the combo is referred to as "French Fries with Cheese." Simple enough. Unfortunately, though, the flavor is also incredibly simple ... too simple. The cheese is just a cheddar-based nacho cheese sauce, and despite additions like jalapeño peppers and dehydrated red and green peppers, it's regrettably mild with no spice or personality. Underneath, the fries were quick to become soggy. Even the areas not touched by the cheese were mushy from the start, not to mention bland and extra potato-y with only a trace amount of salt.

On a positive note, White Castle gave me a solid amount of cheese. You can tell that the employees put in some effort when pouring it on. It wasn't just applied in one big clump in the middle, but spread from side to side. It even made its way to some of the bottom pieces. The chain receives bonus points for this and its one-of-a-kind packaging — the elements that pulled its cheese fries above the poorly-made B-Dub's rendition.

I'm a big fan of Arby's. A classic roast beef sandwich is one of my favorite fast-food handhelds, and one that I crave quite often. But, I also never forget to tack on a side of curly fries to my order, complete with a cup of cheddar sauce. This is the chain's equivalent of cheese fries. Sure, you have to put in a little more effort to dip each curly-q individually. The upside, though, is that you don't end up with squishy, cheese-logged spuds.

I've always thought this cheesy combo hit the spot. That is, until I compared it side-by-side with other fast-food options. I fear curly fries may be going downhill. This particular cluster tasted almost too crunchy and overcooked, and that signature seasoning blend of garlic powder, onion powder, and other spices isn't nearly as bold as it used to be. The cheddar cheese sauce is the same stuff that's slathered on the chain's Beef 'N Cheddar sammies. All alone, though, it tastes diluted with just about the same amount of pizzazz as the sauce from White Castle (aka not much).

Don't get me wrong. I can still find enjoyment in dipping a springy, slinky-shaped fry in this cheese sauce. Thanks to the fries themselves, the pairing also cranks up the flavor compared to the previous two offerings. But overall, I was pretty disappointed in this showing from Arby's.

I arrived at Rally's with a plan to order the chain's Fully Loaded Fries. These come topped with cheese, ranch, and bacon (they're also joined by Cheese Chili Cheese Fries and Garlic Parmesan Loaded Fries on the menu). However, I was informed at the drive-thru that they were completely out of the paper trays the fries are served in, so I was forced to settle for an order of fries with a side cup of cheese. Sounds familiar.

In this format, Rally's offering is sneakily similar to the one at Arby's. The cheese sauces taste nearly identical. If it weren't for the darker hue of the Rally's cup, they would be interchangeable. The fries themselves are also strikingly similar, not in shape but in seasoning. Rally's uses its famous seasoned fries — the same ones you can find in grocery store freezer aisles – which already have a big fan following. And I get it. They're crispy and coated in a nice mix of what tastes like paprika, salt, and garlic powder. I liked them better than Arby's version, thanks to the extra depth and savoriness.

Still, I couldn't help but expect a bit more from the experience. I actually jotted down the word "average" after giving them a taste. That just about sums it up, and it's exactly why Rally's lands in the middle of the pack. It left me wondering if the real fully loaded fries would have fared any better.

I probably sounded silly at the Culver's drive-thru speaker ordering chili cheddar fries, hold the chili. But I wanted to get a feel for the cheese and fries themselves, without a boatload of meat and beans getting in the way. The look of what I received made me question my decision, though. It was less than inspiring. There wasn't much cheese to begin with, and what little there was seemed to pool mostly in the center. It even looked more like a single slice of cheese that had been melted over top rather than a sauce, which is what the chain's menu promises.

Taste-wise, the dish is just okay. The cheese is actually what saves it and helps it rank higher than the previous four chains. It's made with real Wisconsin cheddar, and you can just tell it's high quality, despite not looking like or having the texture of a sauce at all. Thick, not especially crispy, and noticeably under-seasoned, the fries themselves were not my favorite. The ones without cheese tasted like fluffy cardboard, and even the extra cheesy ones felt like they were missing something.

I hate to say it, but I think a ladleful of the chain's George's Chili would have added that pop I was looking for. It would have gotten along perfectly with the mild cheddar cheese and covered many of the imperfections of the spuds. I sincerely regret my choice to leave it off.

At Sonic's drive-in, I wanted to see if the cheese fries really are as groovy as they say. They're no doubt called Groovy Fries because of their crinkle-cut shape, but if they're also cool and tasty, then even better.

They didn't get off to a great start. The recipe is probably the laziest one I can think of: just fries topped with a haphazard slice of melted cheese. It also came in a paper hot dog tray, so the portion is rather small (I guess you get what you pay for). Stick with me, though. Because, despite all these red flags, there's some palatability to be had here. The fries provide everything you could want in a fast-food fry. They maintain their crispiness, they're the right amount of greasy, and the salt level is satisfying without going overboard. They would be tasty all on their own. Then, you throw in a light blanket of cheese. My best guess is that it's a slice of American — the same kind of slice you would find on a Sonic Cheeseburger. But the flavor seems a bit more complex, almost like a white cheddar with a bit of sharpness and extra creaminess.

It's a no-nonsense pick. There's no arguing there. However, with a solid potato base and a classic cheese that's somehow tastier than many others that came before it, Sonic's Cheese Groovy Fries make it farther than I thought they would in the rankings. They're rather groovy after all.

Charleys Cheesesteaks serves up one of my favorite kinds of fries. They're made from all-natural cut potatoes, and they leave the skin on for added crunch and extra flavor. They're the same kind you would find at a joint like Five Guys or the Midwestern sub sandwich chain Penn Station.

At Charleys, you can get Louisiana Cajun Fries, Ultimate Fries (cheese, bacon, and ranch dressing), or just cheese. I took advantage of this last option and, let me tell you, they were absolutely smothered in goopy fromage. The chain describes it as its signature melted cheddar cheese sauce. To me, though, it tasted more like Cheez Whiz, but in the best possible way. The restaurant's Old School Cheesesteak does include real Cheez Whiz — as any true Philly Cheesesteak should — so I wouldn't be surprised if the iconic cheese spread inspired this fry sauce.

Between the smooth, creamy cheese and the fresh, salty fries, this combo really delivers. I appreciate the thought that went into the fries and the sheer amount of cheese added on. This is exactly what people want when they order cheese fries. You may need a fork to eat them, or a pile of napkins, but that's a sacrifice most people will gladly make for a great basket of fries. It's rich, grubby, and comforting all at the same time — satisfying instantly without having to try too hard.

Shake Shack falls into the same category as Culver's and Sonic when it comes to its fry cut of choice. It opts for crinkle, and it has perfected the recipe. Each one becomes delightfully golden and crunchy, while the center remains as soft as mashed potatoes. The secret to Shake Shack's fries is cooking them at a high temperature in soybean oil and then dusting them with a generous amount of salt. This formula is clearly working, and I found that they only get better when loaded up with a cascade of gooey orange cheese.

If you've ever had Shake Shack's cheese fries, you know the cheese is unlike many other cheeses you've encountered. It's not shredded or sliced cheese, and it doesn't fit the profile of nacho cheese either. It's like the thickest, lightest-colored cheese sauce you've ever seen. It's actually a combination of both melted cheddar and American cheese. So, you get all the creaminess of American and all the sharpness of cheddar, all rolled into one sauce. The restaurant has also revealed that jalapeños and onions are also worked into the recipe for an added dose of flavor.

Cheese fries are a classic at the Shack, and they're a top contender amongst other fast-food options to be sure. I also love that they come equipped with a tiny wooden fry fork so you can spear your fries the same way you would a fish in the ocean.

The chicken came first at Dave's Hot Chicken – sold for the first time in a parking lot in East Hollywood. But where there's chicken, some kind of spud is sure to follow. Sure enough, Dave's Hot Chicken now has a signature fry on its menu and even offers the option to blast your order with a healthy amount of cheese.

Just going off appearances, these fries look like a grungier version of Shake Shack's. They mimic that same crimped cut, yet they're longer and less picture-perfect. What really sets them apart, though, is their distinctive seasoning. I would venture to guess that garlic powder, onion powder, salt, pepper, paprika, and maybe even chili powder are all involved, making them extra flavorful, smoky, and even a touch spicy. This is the kind of seasoning I was hoping for with Arby's and Rally's fries. And we haven't even gotten to the cheese part yet. Dave's uses a cheese sauce that tastes like a blend between American cheese and nacho cheese. It cloaks each fry in a cheesy film and acts as the perfect complement to all those punchy spices.

My only complaint about Dave and his chicken team is that there's some inconsistency with the seasoning application. Some fries are nearly left high and dry, while others are bogged down by the spice mix, causing them to taste overly salty. Even with this small snafu, though, this is a crave-worthy plate of cheese fries.

From the fry type to the fry seasoning to the cheese sauce, Wingstop has all the makings of a top-tier basket of cheese fries. It all comes together harmoniously, and the craziest part is that this was also one of the most affordable options in the taste test, beaten out by just White Castle and Sonic.

Getting into the taste, let's start with the fries themselves. My favorite fry type returns. The chain hand cuts and cooks its fries to order (just one of many Wingstop facts you should know), and they turn out just as good as the ones from Charleys. Then, Wingstop takes things a step further with its fry seasoning blend. It's similar to Dave's mix, but with an unexpected twist. There's a noticeable hint of sweetness on each fry. According to copycat recipes, both granulated and brown sugar are part of the mix. You can taste that subtle caramelized sweetness in every bite. It's not something I ever would've thought to pair with fries, but it makes them absolutely delicious. The sugar plays off the seasoning, and when you add the creamy jalapeño cheese sauce on top, you hit every corner of the flavor spectrum — sweet, salty, spicy, and savory all at once.

I can't say enough good things about these fries. I'm also hellbent on trying the chain's Buffalo Ranch and Louisiana Voodoo fry variations. Just imagine the flavor explosions.

It's hard to go wrong with a batch of french fries smothered in cheese. But that doesn't mean all fast-food cheesy fries are created equal. Some thought needed to go into them for them to really shine in this taste test, starting with the fries themselves. I took a close look at the fry cut, as well as their texture underneath that cheese. Cheese fries are bound to get a little soggy, but some hold up better than others. I still wanted a little bit of crisp and an obvious potato taste. Seasonings could also make a big difference. I don't mind a bare, only-salted fry, but with a blend of garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, or even sugar, in Wingstop's case, it can really be elevated.

As for the cheese, we were mostly dealing with different kinds of cheese sauce. First and foremost, I needed a good amount of it blanketed on top of the fries. I also wanted cheese with a thicker consistency and with a taste that was more complex than just a basic, spiceless nacho cheese. The best ones threw in peppers or sharp tastes of cheddar to give it some oomph. Lastly, I brought it all together to see which offerings not only excelled in both cheese and fries separately but created a delicious pairing between the two — a combination that truly makes cheesy fries worth seeking out.