Every Single White Castle Slider, Ranked Worst To Best

White Castle sliders frequently made an appearance on my family's dinner table when I was growing up. On nights when my mom didn't feel like cooking, she definitely didn't feel like arguing with me over whether or not I could get a (much more expensive) Happy Meal, so she'd have my dad pick up a sack of single cheese sliders on his way home from work, halting the debate before it could even begin. Back then, of course, they couldn't hold a candle to McDonald's in my 7-year-old brain, but as I got older, I found myself craving them from time to time. These days, I probably only get White Castle once every few years, but every once in a while — usually very late at night and often after leaving a party — that nostalgic flavor beckons, and it doesn't let go until it's been satisfied.

Until now, the only White Castle slider I'd ever had was the cheese slider. In fact, before this article, I didn't know White Castle had sliders other than the single and the single with cheese, but apparently the chain has come a long way in the hundred-plus years since becoming the first ever fast food hamburger joint. The prices have come along way from their original $0.05 a piece, too, but the burgers taste as good as they ever have. As for the other options ... well, you're just going to have to keep reading to find out.

The Impossible slider was, in a word, revolting. If you squint, it sort of looks like a regular slider, but the meat is thick and slabby, like a thin slice of Spam, and the smoked cheddar has an unappetizing, plastic-like sheen. I did my best to pretend I was eating a real White Castle slider when I took my first (and last) bite.

The only way I can think to describe the flavor is "bloody." Not bloody like a medium-rare steak, though — more like when you accidentally chomp down on your tongue. The smoked cheddar did nothing to cover up the overwhelming flavor of iron. I couldn't force myself to chew it more than twice, much less swallow it.

This was my first experience with Impossible "meat," which is made from soy protein flavored with yeast and soy-based heme that makes it taste and bleed like meat. It's entirely possible that I just don't like that. On the off-chance that this is what it's supposed to taste like, I'm never touching anything with the word "Impossible" in its name again.

I'm a big fan of fish sandwiches and have always been of the belief that they're pretty hard to screw up. After all, what could possibly go wrong when deep-frying a frozen, rectangular patty of breaded fish? A lot, as it turns out, though I suspect the problem with the White Castle fish slider occurred well before it was even frozen.

I bit into the fish slider with high hopes, and the Panko breading did give it a nice, satisfying crunch. As with the Impossible slider, though, chewing revealed the fish sandwich's sins. The texture was fine, but the flavor was intensely fishy. According to the menu, the patties are made from Alaskan pollock, which should taste mild, but it was the furthest possible thing from that. I'd hate to think that the fish had gone bad, but the only other alternative I can imagine is that there's some kind of artificial fish flavoring mixed in. Regardless, I would recommend staying far away from this sandwich.

After trying the Panko fish slider, I had much weaker expectations for the surf and turf slider — a double-decker slider with fish on the bottom and burger on top. The best I could hope for, I reasoned, was that the turf would cover up the surf enough to be palatable. Unfortunately, I had no such luck.

Like the Panko fish slider, the fish patty was pleasantly crisp but overwhelmingly fishy. Somehow — I could hardly believe it myself — the meat made it even worse. Combined, the fish and beef patties melded into a musty abomination with a greasy texture and fishy odor that was so strong, I would have sworn it was detectable from across the room. Even the most adventurous eater among my children wouldn't touch it, but I don't blame them. If it weren't for the fact that this is literally my job, I wouldn't have, either.

After the awful trifecta I'd just experienced, the chicken ring slider was a relief. Not because it was good — that would be stretching the definition of the word a little too far — but it was, at least, tolerable. However, that's the kindest thing I can say about it.

The two stacked chicken rings were disappointingly dry, flavorless, and, as far as I could tell, almost entirely made of breading. The cheese was practically undetectable in the desiccated bite, and it did absolutely nothing to save the sandwich as a whole. Although I've never had a chicken ring on its own, after tasting two on a slider, I can't fathom why it's on the menu at all — especially when there are much better chicken options available for just a few cents more. At more than twice the price of an original slider, it costs too much to be this boring.

I would do unspeakable things for a good plate of chicken and waffles, but I never order it outside the southern U.S., because it's almost always a disappointment. So I wasn't hoping for much, but the chicken and waffles slider managed to exceed my expectations, even if only slightly.

Made from the same breaded buttermilk chicken as the other crispy chicken sliders, it had a excellent crunch and was more tender than I expected it to be. The waffle "bun" was light and pillowy — not at all heavy or chewy, as I had anticipated — and unlike the heavily flavored syrup bits in a McGriddle breakfast sandwich from McDonald's, the syrup in the waffles was noticeably there, but not too intense. 

Despite all of those upsides, the slider had some serious shortcomings, too. The waffles, despite being nicely golden brown, had no crunch at all. They felt a little wimpy and sad, and to make things worse, they're the most expensive slider on the menu at $3.19. While I was pleasantly surprised with the slider overall, I wouldn't order it again.

Barbecue is another dish that I rarely order outside the southern U.S. (and nearly always from a hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint that you might miss unless you were looking for it). That being said, at least it's almost universally good, and fortunately, that was the case for the White Castle BBQ pulled pork slider as well. The pork was tender and the sauce had a good balance between sweetness and tanginess, though it was a teensy bit dry after soaking into the buns, which held a surprising amount of meat considering how small they are.

Really, the only negative thing I can say about the BBQ pulled pork slider is more of a question — just, why? When White Castle is known almost entirely for its burger sliders, and there are barbecue restaurants where you can get a full-sized barbecue sandwich, why would you go to White Castle for a tiny barbecue sandwich? It costs a few pennies more than a regular cheese slider, so the value is pretty good; I just can't imagine using my free will to order barbecue at a burger restaurant.

A chicken sandwich is one of the last things I would ever expect to order at White Castle, but this new menu item was surprisingly tasty. The adorable slider-sized chicken was nicely breaded and, as the name promises, crispy. It reminded me somewhat of the junior-sized chicken patty from Wendy's, but smaller.

The employee at the register warned me that it comes with honeycomb sauce but no cheese — the menu photo has apparently confused and upset some customers — but to be honest, I couldn't even taste the sauce and it was still fine. Yes, it was a little plain, but it seemed to be good quality chicken, and it wasn't dry or tough. The biggest downside was the price — $2.39 for a single slider — which is more than double the cost of a Wendy's chicken sandwich. It was unexpectedly filling, especially for a slider, but not worth that much, in my opinion.

I was happy to finally be back in familiar territory with the bacon cheese slider. It's a classic cheese slider with bacon, and that's it, which is a good thing. The bacon was nice and crispy, creating a textural contrast with the soft, squishy buns and juicy steamed patty. It added a slightly smoky flavor to the whole slider.

Once again, however, I found myself wondering, "Why?" The bacon cheese slider is a brand-new menu item, and I can only guess that it's another attempt to get more "mainstream" burger options on the menu — just about every burger joint has a bacon cheeseburger. That being said, the classic cheese slider that's so unique to White Castle suddenly became unfamiliar with the added flavor and texture of the bacon, spoiling the nostalgia factor for me. Not to mention, charging an additional $0.70 to add roughly half a slice of bacon seems unreasonable.

After enjoying the plain crispy chicken slider, I was looking forward to the bacon and cheese chicken slider, and it did not disappoint. Like the original crispy chicken sandwich, the patty was hot, crispy, and had plenty of flavor and moisture. Unlike the original, the added bacon and cheese brought a lot of flavor and texture to the party, making for a much more satisfying slider overall.

While $2.99 is still a bit pricey for a single slider, it's still a good value compared to the plain chicken slider. Whereas the bacon cheese slider included a $0.70 upcharge over the cheese slider just to add a tiny bit of bacon, the bacon and cheese chicken slider costs only $0.60 more than the plain version. For that price, you get both cheese and bacon. Both bacon cheese sliders were tasty, but the chicken slider wins out over the burger slider.

Getting a chicken sandwich at White Castle is unusual enough, but somehow, getting a sandwich with crisp, fresh veggies on it is even weirder. Still, the deluxe crispy chicken slider was exceptionally good.

It starts with the same delicious chicken patty as the other crispy chicken sandwiches. Then, it's topped with cheese, tomato, and lettuce, and finally drizzled with the honeycomb mustard sauce. As with the first crispy chicken sandwich, I really didn't taste the sauce at all. However, the cheese, lettuce, and tomato made it feel very much like a regular fast food chicken sandwich, but smaller — though the lettuce was a little bit wilty.

Again, the price is all wrong at $2.59 — double the cost of similar chicken sandwiches from other restaurants — and I still can't see myself ordering a chicken sandwich at White Castle of my own accord. If I'm having a craving and don't want to go on my own, though, this chicken sandwich might be enough to convince my White Castle-averse friends to join me.

The thing about the original White Castle slider is that there's nothing particularly exceptional about it. Yes, it is prepared differently from other fast food restaurants — steamed on a bed of onions, resulting in a juicier, more flavorful patty — but aside from that, it really is just a burger.

What makes it so insanely craveable, though, is that you really can't get anything like it anywhere else — unless you happen to have a Krystal (Elvis's favorite) nearby, but even that isn't quite the same. White Castle may not have the best chain restaurant sliders, but they're certainly one-of-a-kind. When you bite into a White Castle original slider and get a taste of the steamed oniony goodness with the juices soaking into the teensy-weensy bun, a seed is planted in your culinary consciousness.

It might take a week, a month, or multiple years, but over time, that seed takes root. One day, when you least expect it, you're struck with a craving that nothing else in the world will satisfy, and you must have White Castle immediately. There's a reason Harold and Kumar didn't go to Wendy's, after all.

The original slider hits that nostalgia factor hard, and at just over a dollar a slider, the price may be a little high for what it is. However, it's a nice, round number that makes it easy to, for example, order an entire sack of 10, a case of 30, or a crate of 100 sliders. The only thing missing is cheese.

Adding cheese to the already nearly unbeatable original slider creates a perfectly gooey mess of a sandwich, so you might expect that doubling that would make the best slider on this list — so why isn't it number one? It all comes down to proportions.

The original slider is one bun, one patty, pickles, and onions, and a cheese slider adds one slice of cheese. Alternatively, the double cheese slider has two patties, two slices of cheese, pickles, onions, and a double-decker bun. If you're doing the math at home, that means that the double cheese slider is missing half a bun!

Changing the ratios even that little bit messes alters the whole slider for me. The thin middle slice of the bun gets mushy from the top patty and glues it to the bottom one, and it all ends up feeling like too much meat for one slider. While the flavors are all there, the texture is just a little bit wrong compared to my number one pick.

The cheese slider is, hands down, the best slider on the White Castle menu. The burger patty drips glorious juice into the bottom bun, the gooey cheese clings to the top bun, smothering the pickles underneath. The whole thing melts in your mouth in just three bites.

Sure, it may not fill you up as fast as a double cheese slider, but that's kind of the point. Half the fun of enjoying White Castle sliders is surveying the carnage of all the empty boxes left behind and marveling at how you fit five (or 10) mini burgers into your belly. At about a buck and a quarter a piece, though, how could you not? There will almost certainly be regret later — when you go to White Castle, you know that the aftermath will be, at minimum, very stinky — but in that moment, there's nothing but pure, gluttonous joy.

After my request for "every slider on the menu" left the employee at the register looking very confused, I ordered every slider from the online menu exactly as it comes — no substitutions or modifications from the default options. I selected each one randomly from the pile to avoid letting my lifelong favorite bias me against the other options, and evaluated them on taste first and foremost. Then, I assessed value for the price, and factored in a subjective vibes-based factor that included things like nostalgia and novelty.