Does beef tallow really make better french fries?

Beef tallow, which once might have been more at home in a Dickens novel than a TikTok video, is having an official Moment.

Influencers are singing its bovine praises. Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the Health and Human Services secretary and unofficial head of the “Make America Healthy Again” movement, is a key hype man, using a vat of the stuff to fry his Thanksgiving turkey and choosing a location of tallow-touting Steak ’n Shake for the backdrop of a Fox News interview last month. People are even slathering it on their faces.

Beef tallow proponents often cite health reasons for preferring it to seed oils, such as corn and canola, with some citing rather shaky science. But let’s leave aside those arguments for now and focus on our favorite aspect of food: taste. After all, the lore of the deliciousness of beef tallow french fries goes back at least to the 1990s, when fast food giant McDonald’s stopped using it as part of a push against saturated fats. People often swoon about the Golden Arches’ fries in halcyon days, before the heart-healthy police busted the joint.

So, are fries fried in tallow really more delicious than those fried in canola?

This test compares homemade fries made with tallow with those made with frying oil to see which were preferred. The taste test wasn’t just aimed at home cooks, either. Not everyone wants to DIY fry, and I get why: Home frying uses a large quantity of fat that can be annoying to handle and dispose of. Plus, it can leave your kitchen (and your hair!) smelling like grease.

With chains such as Popeyes, Outback, Buffalo Wild Wings, Smashburger and now Steak ’n Shake using beef fat, we wanted our test to help people decide whether seeking out tallow fries on menus and at the drive-through is worth it, too.

What is beef tallow?

Tallow is a term for the fat from the trimmings of butchered cows. To produce it, the tissue and organs containing the fat are typically heated, and the fat is drained off and strained. At room temperature, it is whitish and solid, and it looks more like vegetable shortening than oil. Along with other animal fats, such as lard and butter, tallow was once commonly used in American cooking.

What the experts say

Long before TikTok existed, chef Nathan Anda was all in on the tallow train. When he opened the first full location of Red Apron Butcher in 2013, using tallow just seemed like a cost-saving method. The butchery business means there’s a lot of extra bits around, after all. “I said we’re going to load the fryer with beef fat,” he says. Colleagues weren’t sold — at first. “And then it was just awesome, because talking about flavor and aroma — it is just such a different experience with the beef fat.”

Red Apron’s fries are still made in tallow at its two locations, served with whole cloves of confit garlic and a shower of rosemary, using tallow rendered from the butchery and from the briskets at sister restaurants Hi/Fi Tex Mex BBQ. Anda is amused by the revived interest in tallow generated by the MAHA movement. “When we first started, people were into it because of paleo,” he said, referring to the trendy diet that emphasizes minimally processed foods that some say cavemen might have eaten. “It’s always something.”

Scott Paulson, a physics professor at James Madison University who has long chased the perfect french fry, notes that tallow is ideally suited for deep-frying. Its smoke point is 400 degrees, he notes, which makes it suitable for frying. Unlike the neutral oils that can also withstand the higher temperatures needed for frying, beef tallow boasts a more prominent flavor, a good or bad thing depending on whom you ask. (For our test, the potatoes were double-fried, first at 325°F, then at 350°F.)

Whatever you fry potatoes in will impart some flavor, Paulson says. When you drop potatoes in oil, it creates bubbles, which are caused by moisture from the vegetables releasing steam. “After it dehydrates, and the water is out of the surface, that’s when it starts to crisp and you get that shell,” he says. “And at that point, oil can infuse a little bit.”

How we tested

We selected a classic fry recipe from the reliable America’s Test Kitchen that employs the double-fry method, for maximum crispness without sacrificing that pillowy interior we love. In one Dutch oven, we used canola oil, which many fast-food and other restaurants use. (The recipe suggests using peanut oil, but we opted for canola for its fast-food ubiquity — and because it has so often been cast as the villain in the MAHA extended universe.) And in the other, identical Dutch oven, we used beef tallow. We chose a popular commercially available brand, Colorado Craft Beef, that bills itself as American-made and “providing rich nutrients and flavors.”

Then we invited six colleagues to taste two freshly fried batches — which we served bare, with no ketchup or other dipping sauces to distract — and share their thoughts. The panelists did not know which plate of fries was fried in tallow and which was fried in canola oil.

The verdict

Beefier is better, according to our tasters. All six correctly identified which batch was which, and they unanimously preferred the tallow-fried version for their stronger, distinct flavor.

What exactly did the tallow bring to the party? “Funkiness,” “yummy umami” and “luscious” were among the descriptors. “This fry has more character to it,” noted one. “It has more action than just, you know, vegetable oil.” The proof was on the plates, too; most people left more of the neutral oil fries than their more flavorful counterparts.

“There’s an extra hint of savoriness,” enthused one taster.

The difference, according to our panel, seemed to be mostly about flavor and not texture, although some suspected the tallow-cooked fries were slightly browner.

It wasn’t that the tasters didn’t like the canola fries, and several noted instances where they might be preferable. Depending on what you are serving fries with, some suggested, a more neutral flavor might be what you want. “This is a supporting actor more than it’s the lead actor, but I think that’s often what we ask of fries,” said one. One taster mused that the beef-flavored fries would be great alongside a burger, and another suggested it would shine on a dish of steak frites — but one wondered whether the combination might be overkill (“too beef-on-beef”) or whether you might lose the more subtle notes of the fries in those scenarios.

And one of our (mostly vegetarian) tasters made the obvious observation, suggesting that restaurants that serve tallow fries are depriving those who eschew animal products: “It would be nice for the vegetarians to eat fries that aren’t frying in animal fat.”

Another downside? Price. Beef tallow can be prohibitively expensive for home cooks, particularly when you’re using it to deep-fry foods rather than as a substitute for oil in other applications, such as pan-frying. We found Colorado Craft Beef tallow in 14-ounce jars for $1.43 per ounce, compared with about 10 to 20 cents per ounce for canola oil.

And there’s also the little matter of the smell. The heated tallow had a … distinct aroma that more than one taster described as having “barnyard” notes.

But overall, on the matter of taste, the consensus seemed to be that, trends aside, we’ve got no beef with tallow fries.