7 Store-Bought Hot Dog Chili Sauces, Ranked

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How do you dress up your hot dogs? There's the standard way: with a simple squiggle of ketchup or mustard. Maybe you prefer a touch of zest and a dollop of pickle relish. Or perhaps you like to push the limits of what a hot dog can be with unconventional toppings like hot peppers, guacamole, or even fig jam for a sweet-meets-savory twist. There are a million ways to top a hot dog if you're creative enough. But if you're looking for the ultimate comfort food upgrade, a chili dog is the obvious choice.

Much like the process of eating one, the origin story of the chili dog is a bit messy. Restaurateurs and chili makers in the Midwest, Michigan, and even LA claim the invention, so it's hard to pinpoint who was truly the first to marry stew and frank. But what we do know is that it has become an American staple. You'll find the chili topping at ballparks, on diner menus, and on grocery store shelves, ready for your next cookout.

Of course, if you're going the at-home route, you'll want to forgo the standard can of chili for a bona fide hot dog chili sauce — a finer, less bean-y pick made specifically for a hot dog and bun. They come from a variety of brands, and I recently sampled several options to see which one makes for the best at-home chili dog. So, grab some napkins and let's get into it.

Wolf Brand Chili has quite a history. From being sold in bowls from the back of a wagon in 1895 to being packaged in brick form, to eventually becoming the canned product still available today, it's a Texas-style chili institution. And, if you're wondering about the moniker, the brand was named after the owner, Lyman T. Davis' real-life pet wolf. It doesn't get any wilder, or more Texas, than that.

As a chili sauce founded in the Lone Star State, I would expect a meat-forward blend with chiles and plenty of spices. But that's far from what I got. There is beef in the can, but it's mostly made up of bean powder, tomato paste, chili pepper, and a few other spare seasonings. It all adds up to a dark brown slop that looks like it would be rich and flavorful. But, in reality, it tastes artificial and almost as though it was burnt or an old can that had gone bad. If you told me it had been one of the first ever manufactured back in the early 1900s, I probably would have believed you.

Since it's plagued by this bitterness with no other standout flavors to save it, this brand fell to the bottom of my list. If this is what store-bought hot dog chili sauces have to offer, I'll take my hot dog plain instead.

The National Coney Island story is one of a restaurant-turned-retail brand, similar to the paths taken by Skyline and Wendy's with their own chili blends. At its Michigan locations, the chain has been slinging Detroit-style Coney dogs for more than 60 years  while also bringing its chili and chili sauce to a national audience through at-home Coney kits and other products. I was able to find the brand's chili sauce at my local Walmart in Columbus, Ohio, though it was only available in a four-pack of mini 7.5-ounce cans.

This is a complete 180 from Wolf Brand's chili, simply due to the fact that beef plays a bigger part in the "award-winning" recipe. However, that doesn't mean all problems are solved. It's the meat itself that throws it off. It doesn't necessarily taste spoiled, but it has a flavor that's just what you would expect from canned meat. There are no beans, so the rest is mildly soupy, with a light pop of color and taste from the additions of paprika, turmeric, and other spices.

It's more edible than the previous pick, though that's not saying much. The earthiness, gamey beef, and off-putting light brown hue still don't make for a great hot dog topper. So, tell me, what do I do with the three other cans?

I was not surprised in the slightest to see hot dog chili sauces of the generic store-bought variety. The head honchos of the supermarket world (aka Kroger and Walmart) both spin up a version, and just as you would guess, they come at a steal of a price compared to other name brands. Both are available for less than $1.

They may come at a similar price, but Kroger and Walmart do chili sauce very differently. Kroger goes the bean-forward route and doesn't look back. The substance that comes slithering out of the can looks just like the refried beans, and taste just like them, too. The ingredient list doesn't specify, but I would guess that they're of the pinto variety. The goop (for lack of a better word) has that mildly sweet taste that reminds me of the refried beans you'd find on your plate at a Mexican restaurant — all that's missing is a cap of melted cotija cheese. The only whiffs of meat in this recipe come from beef fat. A bit of mustard elevates the flavor, and the creaminess of the blend surprisingly pairs well with a frank in a bun.

The moral of the story here is that this sauce tastes much better than it looks. It didn't wind up as a favorite of mine, but it's far from the worst thing that's ever sat atop a dog.

Compared to Kroger's, Castleberry's Hot Dog Chili Sauce costs a smidge more, and it tastes just a smidge better. The two share a very similar makeup. Castleberry's features crushed beans as a main ingredient, flavored with mustard and a hint of brown sugar. The meat involved is still just beef fat, but it's more abundant. You have to look closely, but there are small meaty clumps throughout the sauce doing their best impression of true ground beef.

What really sets it apart from the previous option, though, is the inclusion of chili spice. It gives it an added boost of warm, savory notes. Offset by a touch of sweetness and coupled with a consistency that covers a hot dog well but isn't too runny, it's not a bad pick. And if you're wavering between this and Kroger's version, I'd say just spend the extra couple of cents and go with Castleberry's.

I also appreciate that this recipe is a family recipe, one that's been shared with the masses for a century. It's a down-home cooking tradition at this point and the even better news is that the sauce has grown into different varieties over the years. Next time, I would definitely upgrade to the spicy jalapeño sauce or the mustard and onion version. Perhaps I'd even take a chance on the hot honey flavor – I'm always on board for that trend.

Even though it's not the most glamorous pick, Great Value's Hot Dog Chili Sauce is a reliable one. And if you don't want to take my word for it, take the word of nearly 6,000 other customers who rank it highly on its website. Clearly, something is working here.

It's significantly closer to a classic chili than any of the previous options. No full-sized beans, of course, in true hot dog chili sauce fashion. But it does include prepared pinto beans that are mashed up into the sauce, along with all the other standard fixins. Beef fat gives it a meatiness and a heartier feel. It's also tomato-forward, with both dehydrated onions and chili powder to give it that recognizable chili flavor. There's the lightest hint of spice — just enough to keep things interesting but not enough to scare off more sensitive taste buds. Plus, you always have the frank and soft bun to balance things out.

The only thing I will mention is the more that I ate, the more something about the meat reminded me of meatloaf. That, and with a decent amount of tomato puree poured in, it's also slightly reminiscent of a tomato soup mixed with chili. Small things to be aware of, but overall, I was satisfied with Great Value's offering. Bring on the backyard barbecue!

Tony Packo's is located in my neck of the woods in Toledo, Ohio. But if you thought it sounded familiar, you might be remembering it from the show "M*A*S*H." The brand's Hungarian-style hot dogs are mentioned in several episodes. It's also known for its quirky celebrity hot dog bun-signing tradition. It all started in 1972, when Burt Reynolds stopped into the restaurant and used a hot dog bun in lieu of paper to sign an autograph for a fan, and the rest is Tony Packo's history.

Tony Packo's packs in some serious depth in its Hot Dog Sauce. One quick bite and I knew it was a top contender. I do have to say, I'm not sure why it's called hot dog sauce with beef. Beef pretty much makes up the entire can — almost like a ragù or Italian meat sauce that goes light on the tomato component. So it's thick, extra beefy, and spoons onto an awaiting hot dog without fear of it immediately dripping right off. 

The real magic, though, is in the surrounding seasonings. A mix of chili powder, garlic, and other spices makes this the most flavorful hot dog sauce yet. It strays a bit from your typical chili taste and from the Great Value concoction, but I don't mind the deviation. It's almost reminiscent of a spicy beef jerky or beef stick in chili sauce form, and the greasiness somehow makes it feel even more authentic.

If you want something spicier and meat-forward, go with Tony Packo's. If you want something with more layers and nuance, go with Custard Stand. The brand gained fame thanks to its 2016 appearance on "Shark Tank," but its family recipe Hot Dog Chili has been around for over a century. Despite leaving the show without a deal in hand, I'd still consider it one of the best out there.

Similar to Tony's recipe, there's still a focus on meat here, and high-quality meat at that. The tub contains 100% beef with no fillers or additives. It tastes fresh and, combined with everything else, reminded me of a deconstructed meatball. This was a strong start, and the rest of the ingredients sold it even more. You get a touch of sweetness from tomato paste and ketchup — something I hadn't seen before in other variations. Plus, dehydrated onions give it an added layer of savoriness, and everything is washed in a well-thought-out seasoning mix of chili powder, paprika, and black pepper. It feels right at home paired with a juicy hot dog.

Custard Stand's hot dog chili sauce is definitely on the pricier side, but well worth it. It's also important to note that you won't find it on the shelf with the other canned options. It's a refrigerated product that I found cozied up next to the hot dogs at the supermarket. This honestly proved its freshness and use of real ingredients even more.

You can't have hot dog chili sauce without a hot dog. So, when I picked up these sauces at the grocery store, I also picked up a pack of hot dogs and hot dog buns, both from the Ball Park brand and both reliable-yet-neutral options. At home, I set up all my hot dogs and heated up each chili sauce in the microwave (heating in the oven was also an option in most cases). Then, I combined the two in order to form my chili dogs.

I took notes in between bites and inevitable chili spills. I ranked each chili sauce based on its thickness, giving preference to those that fall somewhere in the middle — not too clumpy, but thick enough not to turn a hot dog into a soupy mess. I also took a closer look at the ingredients. The sauces simply tasted better when filled with real, quality meat and classic chili ingredients like onions and chili spices. I also liked a little kick of spice or even a bit of sweetness to liven things up. Ultimately, it was a combination of diverse flavors, recognizable ingredients, and perfect harmony with a hot dog that landed Custard Stand in the top spot.