Chicken tenders are an invasive species. Hear me out: It’s like no matter what else a restaurant sells, most of them have chicken tenders on the menu, too. Why? Because kids eat chicken tenders, and parents have to pick their battles. But it’s not just the kids, is it? Admit it: Chicken tenders are the world’s easiest food, and sometimes we just want easy. They’re like a blank canvas waiting for you to Bob Ross your sauce.
MORE CHICKEN TENDERS:Top 10 locals
A few days ago, I ranked the Top 10 locally owned restaurants for chicken tenders. That’s great, but if I need to make a right-hand turn for chicken on the way back from soccer practice, convenience counts. And I took a lot of right-hand turns trying chicken tenders from restaurant chains, from Bill Miller BBQ to McDonald’s to Raising Cane’s to Bojangles and beyond. Thirty-two places in all. Most of them are right in the middle, neither the best nor the worst. But these are, and for the first time ever, we’re calling out the 10 best (and worst) chicken tender chains in San Antonio.
The best
Church’s Texas Chicken: Church’s got its start in San Antonio almost 75 years ago. But it’s bigger than us now, big enough to be measured against all the other national chains. And these curled chicken tenders, with ripples of tawny breading from tip to tail, have no trouble holding their own against the biggest players. I watched an employee working chicken through the dusty folds of flour, turning it over and over and patting it down with a practiced cadence, and I could see and taste the extra trouble right there in my paper boat of tenders. A three-piece combo for $8.99 includes a side, a sweet honey-butter biscuit and something not many other places bother with: peppered white cream gravy as a dipping sauce. Go ahead and name a better dipping sauce for a piece of fresh, hot chicken. I’ll wait. 4747 Rittiman Road, 210-653-4183, more locations at churchs.com
Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers: The drive-thru is 11 cars deep, the sign above the awning says “One Love,” and Peter Frampton’s asking me to show him the way on the loudspeakers. Am I at my old fast-food job in 1979 again? Nope, just a time warp to Raising Cane’s, where nobody bothered to tell them that we don’t call them “chicken fingers” anymore. And they’re killing it, moving people with Chick-fil-A expediency with a menu that keeps it simple, stupid: chicken fingers, and how many you want? This was my first time here, and I thought the chicken would be bigger, at least big enough to justify the way Raising Cane’s has come to dominate the conversation about boneless fried chicken. At least the one people are having when their mouths aren’t full of chicken fingers. So the chicken’s not as big compared to a lot of the tenders I’ve had for this report, but they’re clean and crisp and consistent, fried to a semi-shag of golden amber over meat that’s as uncomplicated as a fresh marketing campaign. And it’s a decent fast-food value at less than $10 for three tenders with crinkle fries, Texas toast and the perked-up Thousand Island dressing that’s come to be known as “comeback sauce,” or “Cane’s Sauce” here. I paid an extra $2 for one more piece and coleslaw. It’s fast, it’s fast food, it’s ready for its focus-group close-up. It’s Raising Cane’s. 2525 SW Military Drive, 210-924-6454, more locations at raisingcanes.com
Slim Chickens: Slim Chickens probably sticks with you because it rhymes with the cowboy who rode the bomb in “Dr. Strangelove.” It sticks with me for that reason and for this one: When I reported on the national chain’s first location opening near San Antonio in Helotes in 2017, it was my single biggest online story that year, the same year I wrote more than 600 stories. You could say interest was high in this Arkansas import that goes full-bird fever with chicken tenders, wraps, wings, sandwiches and salads. Almost 10 years later, Slim Chickens has four locations in the area, and so many in the central U.S. that the pins block out the lines on the website map. They got to this point with chicken tenders that are soft on the inside and velvet gold on the outside, with ridges like a Martian landscape. They don’t try to distract you with snack-bag crunchiness or thick, sugary coatings. It’s just straight-up salt and pepper and something extra, a seasoning profile that propels you from bite to bite. Which is not to say their sauce game is weak. They’ve got 14 of them, so many that their menu board takes a jab at Raising Cane‘s “one love” catchphrase with a panel pushing their dipping sauces that says, “More than one love: 14 to be exact.” White cream gravy is always a solid choice for chicken tenders, but it’s also trying their housemade cayenne ranch and honey mustard. 7022 N. Loop 1604 East, 210-255-1532, more locations at slimchickens.com
KFC: I used to joke that Kentucky Fried Chicken started calling itself KFC because Kentucky asked them to stop saying that. Hilarious! But the fact is, in the brave new world of chicken tenders, the Colonel still flexes old-school. The breading gives us credit for being smart enough to know that it doesn’t have to be covered like a chunky all-over spray tan. This is a crust that rises and falls to meet the contours of the meat underneath, with peaks and valleys that keep those 11 herbs and spices in dynamic balance over medium-size tenders that still clock in at less than a three-piece combo at Wendy’s, plus you get a biscuit. 738 Seguin St., 210-236-1042, more locations at www.kfc.com
Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken:The last time I looked at national fried chicken chains in San Antonio, Gus’s came out on top. The chicken seemed like it came from another place and another time entirely, with a crust almost like tempura. Uniformly crisp, with a caramel matte finish like an airbrushed T-shirt at an outdoor fair. Nothing much has changed in the five years since Gus’s arrived in Southtown. In that time, Gus‘s has become part of the fabric of Southtown, weaving in so thoroughly that the only way you’d know it was here was the name on the door. There’s no outdoor signage, no sandwich-board proclamations on the sidewalk. What’s that saying? If you’re good at what you do, you don’t have to brag about it. And Gus’s is good at it, and they do it at a price that feels like a local cafe instead of a chain with outlets in 13 states. It’s an unassuming room, with a wall of exposed brick, polished concrete floors, mismatched cafe chairs and cheesy checkered plastic tablecloths in red, green and blue. The chicken tenders lived up to my memories of that first year. And don’t worry about the “Hot & Spicy” thing. Your San Antonio kids won’t even notice. 812 S. Alamo St., 210-463-4038, gusfriedchicken.com…