The best items on the Chick-fil-A menu, ranked

I’m not 100 percent sure what’s cool in the Cool Wrap other than the temperature of the sliced grilled chicken and leafy lettuce within. It’s wrapped in a dry flaxseed flatbread that screams: I’ve just started a fad diet. At 660 calories, it’s more than the 420 calories for the chicken sandwich, so it might be time to question what you think is healthy. Mercifully, the ‘fil-A folks serve the Cool Wrap with a squeeze packet of pretty tasty avocado-lime ranch dressing that would be a nice addition to a chicken sandwich. Or the fries. Just see what you can do about getting some of the dressing.

My newfound respect for Chick-fil-A has been well documented above, so hopefully, that gives it more weight when I say I found the restaurant’s signature sandwich disappointing. Yes, the chicken is crispy and well-seasoned, but this thing is downright underwhelming. Unlike the deluxe sandwiches that come in tidy little boxes, this is wrapped in a foil-lined bag that steams the bun until it’s too soft, and without a sauce, any bite without one of a pair of pickles is far too bland and dry. If you’re too short on pocket change to order the fancier versions, ask for a side of dipping sauce, for Christ’s sake.

Out of curiosity, and because I forgot to order them the first time, I ordered these nugs during a second visit through the backed-up drive-through (Connie told me her location often handles an astounding 200 cars an hour). These aren’t nuggets that have been oozed into reality in the McDonald’s “blending room.” They’re actual chunks of meat, battered with what seems like a thinner beer-like batter (although I would assume, based on Chick-fil-A’s political history, it would be a non-alcoholic beer). I would put cash money down that your kids will love them and adults who eat them will wonder what they’ve missed all their lives.

These fries do all the things fries are supposed to do. Crispy and salty, their waffled texture is a perfect vehicle for sopping up ketchup or candy-sweet barbecue sauce. Bits of skin here and there give them away as real potatoes. These are, sorry, fellow liberals, very good fries.

Just recently, I had chicken fingers at a very fancy Miami restaurant that were only, just slightly better than these. They’re crunchy, made of actual chicken and flavored nicely from the slightly spiced batter. Be warned that the dipping sauces—I tried barbecue and honey mustard—are basically as sugary as a bucket of sweet tea. Also, Chick-fil-A, are we overdoing it on the hyphens?

What's not to like with bits of cookie swimming in a vanilla shake that’s topped with whipped cream and a cherry? Now, OK, yes, at an astounding 630 calories, 90 grams of carbs and 26 grams of fat, this thing is worse for you than a Crunchwrap Supreme. But every day is better with a cherry on top of something.

I just recently attended a luncheon in a Midwestern church basement full of made-with-love casseroles, and I can say this mac and cheese would’ve killed it on the buffet table there. It’s cheesy and creamy but not overly so, topped with little bits of those grated cheese hunks that go gooey in the oven. You’d be the star of any potluck for showing up with this.

I know. This sounds like a joke, which was honestly the reason I ordered it. But this is a very good salad, and not just for fast food. The kale is fresh and tender, with cabbage adding a nice crunch. There’s good texture from the toasted almonds that come on the side, and the apple cider vinaigrette is light, just a bit sweet and adds a nice sour tang to a rich meal. Connie, the host/busser at the Chick-fil-A, gave me a low-calorie, high-protein hack: order the Grilled Nuggets meal, get the kale on the side and mix them at the table, like you’re a Chick-fil-A Bobby Flay.

In the sordid history of American fast food, this might be the first item ever that actually looks like the promotional photos for it. It gets wrapped in paper and then boxed, actually filling the container it comes in. The multi-grain bun is fluffy, the vegetables fairly fresh, and, of course, the bacon and cheese are a nice addition. The supposedly “lemon-herb marinated” grilled chicken has a bit of a hot-dog-esque nitrate flavor of factory-prepared meats. The menu says it “pairs well” with the sugar-pocalypse barbecue sauce that comes on the side, because, like many of these sandwiches, these buttered buns come sauce-free.

The idea here is simple: Take what’s good about the standard C-f-A sandwich, the crispy and well-seasoned chicken, and just make it better. The pretty crispy patty, with really just a slight tinge of heat, gets covered with a cheese slice of your choice, along with lettuce, pickles and tomatoes. Oddly, it’s missing a sauce that would seem to bring it all together, kind of a theme at this place. But still, this is a good sandwich that made my political objections drift away with every crispy bite.