Buc-Ee's Jerky Flavors Ranked From Worst To Best

Part convenience store on steroids, part fluorescent-lit theme park, all oversized: Buc-ee's is an ever-growing American roadside phenomenon of surreal proportions. Hundreds of miles before reaching a Buc-ee's location, interstate drivers see enigmatically phrased billboards beckoning with promises of the gas-station chain's countless draws — including squeaky-clean restrooms and a "world famous" lineup of jerky.

The interior of every Buc-ee's is an onslaught of store-branded merchandise, virtually all of it emblazoned by the chain's cartoonish beaver mascot looking skyward with an appropriately eager grin. Around the clock, hordes of highway travelers peruse displays of Buc-ee's T-shirts, keychains, shot glasses, scented candles, waffle irons, and piles of other products that can plausibly be classified as collectibles. Meanwhile, the store's food assortment pulls in devoted fans from near and far — savory specialties include hot sandwiches loaded with Buc-ee's famous brisket or pulled pork, while sweet teeth are spoiled for choice amid bricks of fresh fudge, sacks of candied nuts, and innumerable other sugar-laden confections.

Amongst it all, an inordinate amount of Buc-ee's real estate is devoted to the chain's jerky selection. Beyond an entire wall of pre-packaged jerky sold in more than a dozen flavors, a deli-style counter features a dedicated employee offering this meaty treat by the pound. Is this jerky really good enough to warrant a specialized wage earner? During a recent road trip, my wife and I decided to find out everything we needed to know about Buc-ee's jerky by purchasing, taste-testing, and ranking every flavor available.

Arch "Beaver" Aplin III — the head honcho of Buc-ee's and a Texan to his core — followed a family tradition when launching the chain in 1982. Aplin's grandparents ran a general store proffering everything from tools to clothes to cuts of beef. Perhaps Aplin aims to summon the spirits of his forebears by stocking beef jerky at his own mercantile outposts ... but Buc-ee's Ghost Pepper Beef Jerky is terrifying for all but the most masochistic taste buds.

Despite a crusted appearance, this jerky seems innocent at first, but its deep cracks hide pockets of spiciness like bandits in badlands canyons. The initial few chews are enjoyably savory, dominated by the jerky's brown sugar and soy sauce — and then the capsaicin kicks in. A ghost pepper is much hotter than a jalapeño, as we were painfully reminded of when the expected scalding on our tongues gave way to beads of sweat, teardrops welling, and noses running.

While I'm not a big fan of spicy foods, my wife eats hot peppers enthusiastically as an enjoyable personal challenge ... and yet both of us were forced to spit out our modest bites of this jerky, because swallowing this inedible stuff would surely result in a burning belly. Only copious spoonfuls of ice cream helped extinguish the scorching sensation; were we still on the road when eating this, we would've had to pull over while praying for a Dairy Queen.

It would seem that Buc-ee's Sweet And Spicy Beef Jerky could provide an appetizing balance of flavors. According to its ingredients list, this jerky's recipe tempers unspecified seasoning and spice by including two types of sugar, along with garlic and onion powders. Such an apparently intricate blend would hopefully yield a taste that's not overwhelmingly hot or cloying, but instead provides a dance floor for the sweet and spicy flavors to perform together gracefully.

Sadly, this variety ends up falling flat. First of all, the ingredient most apparent in this jerky is salt; the exterior is encrusted with so much sodium that the leathery meat looks like it drifted in the ocean before drying out in the sun. It's difficult to bite off a chunk of this, too — perhaps if we had oversized incisors like Buc-ee, this would not have been an issue, but the experience of tasting this jerky was considerably muted by concern for my dental work.

That muted quality unfortunately continued after managing to soften up the jerky with a few careful chews. Surprisingly, neither the sweet nor spicy elements ever made themselves known, no matter how much I concentrated on finding them; instead the unpleasantly stringy texture remained paramount, and no notable flavor ever emerged. This was more of a liability than a jerky.

Perhaps it was just the particular piece of Buc-ee's Old Western Style Peppered Beef Jerky that we happened to receive at the counter, but this was definitely the most dramatic-looking sample of the bunch. Reminiscent of a sunbaked varmint skull encountered on the desert floor of Death Valley, this jerky slab looked ready to be packed in a saddlebag to provide sustenance for long days on a cattle drive. As a Western movie prop, it's perfect; as a road-trip snack, it's far from ideal.

This jerky was extremely dry, tough to chew, and stringy from first bite to last swallow. The few flavorings on this variety's short ingredients list — salt, sugar, and ground black pepper — actually combined quite nicely once the meat softened up a bit. However, getting to that point was a chore comparable to driving fence posts into the ground, with my molars serving as sledgehammers while the jerky played the part of hardened soil. Subsisting on this jerky while riding the range would be preferable to starving, but not by too much.

Based on appearance alone, Buc-ee's sole non-beef jerky option looked promising. Buc-ee's Hill Country Brand Peppered Turkey Jerky has a light-red hue reminiscent of smoked salmon, with a glistening sheen that hinted at tenderness, while a generous sprinkling of crushed pepper coated the exterior.

Alas, looks can be deceiving. Biting into this jerky was anything but a tender experience; the meat was fairly rubbery and slow to disintegrate. What's more, while the ingredients include brown sugar, vinegar, and red bell peppers, there was little trace of these flavorful foodstuffs in this jerky's taste — overall it was rather bland.

It is a plus that this turkey product is quite low in fat, with only half a gram per serving and no saturated fat, unlike several other varieties of beef-based Buc-ee's jerky. However, jerky can hardly be considered a health food anyway, so while this turkey variety ranks higher in flavor than other options, if you're going to scarf down a bag of desiccated meat, it might as well taste more like savory steak than dry poultry.

Now this is an intriguing jerky variety, with its name offering a spicy and sweet combo via an unusual pairing of specific ingredients. We had high hopes that this option would offer an appealing taste of both flavor worlds.

And at first, it did. Buc-ee's Jalapeño Honey Beef Jerky is pliable and almost moist; it's very easy to take a bite out of this. Additionally, the first couple of chews yielded a subtle honeyed sweetness, followed by pleasantly piquant hints of pepper that enliven the taste buds without burning the palate. For a few moments, it appeared we had a top-ranking variety on our hands — but then came the aftertaste.

Shortly after swallowing each bite of this jerky, the sweetness and spiciness faded into a musty tang that lingered for far too long. It's as if this product was aged in a damp basement and given a quick spritz of high-quality flavoring right before being shipped to Buc-ee's HQ. Were it not for the aftertaste, this variety could be a regular snack in our household, since I love sweet foods and my wife savors spicy treats. Instead, we're not sure what to do with our leftover jalapeño honey jerky — we can try incorporating it into some jalapeño recipes, if we musty ... er, must.

Buc-ee's Steakhouse Beef Jerky has at least one devoted fan: the guy who patiently waited behind us in line at the jerky counter to order a bulk amount of this variety, while my wife and I took our sweet time ordering tiny portions of 10 types. Partly based on his recommendation, we picked up an entire pre-packaged bag of steakhouse jerky ... and it's not a decision we regret, but perhaps that guy knew something we don't, and the fresher version is actually worth waiting for.

This is another variety that initially feels rather leathery, but softens up pretty quickly after a couple bites, and more flavor emerges with each chew. Classic steak-affiliated flavors of Worcestershire sauce and black peppercorns provide an appealing blend that evokes cherished memories of steakhouse visits past.

Nonetheless, because of the toughness of this jerky, we were left with the impression of eating a severely overcooked steak rather than a steak-flavored snack. We may consider ordering steakhouse jerky fresh at the counter next time we're at a Buc-ee's, and maybe that would be better ... but it's probably preferable to save the money and instead splurge at one of the best steakhouses in America.

The ruby-red slices of Buc-ee's Hot And Spicy Beef Jerky look the way fiery meat should. It's tender and easy to tear into bite-size pieces, so you may be tempted to start chowing down on this relatively soft stuff — but be careful, because this jerky delivers the spice with a wallop that dawdles. It's not one of the foods spicy enough to cause you serious pain, but it'll give your palate a noogie and leave a mark.

Taking a first bite of this jerky is a pleasure; swallowing it, not so much. The spice blend quickly overwhelms the palate with chili powder notes and vicious cravings for cold beer. A taste of brown sugar tamps down the heat to provide a little mercy, but it's best to have some form of liquid refreshment close at hand whenever eating this. For spice lovers, it's a perfect multi-day snack when hitting the open road. For those who can't stand spice, steer clear.

During our taste test, we hoped to find jerky varieties that could be genuine crowd-pleasers (among meat eaters, at least). As typified by the diverging spice-tolerance levels between my wife and I, some people can't get enough heat in their food, while others recoil at the tiniest sprinkle of spiciness. Buc-ee's Lemon Peppered Beef Jerky could be a middle-ground offering that's adequately enjoyable for all.

Although its wrinkled exterior appears almost weather-beaten, this jerky's visible seasoning adds appeal from the outset, and the meat is more tender than it looks. While several chews are required before the lemon pepper flavor comes through, this jerky has an unexpectedly potent hint of spice countered by zesty citrus flavor. Both lemon powder and lemon oil are listed among the ingredients, adding a lightness to the meaty heat. Unfortunately, once this jerky's softer segments were devoured, a lot of flavorless stringy remnants remained, making themselves at home in the recesses of my gums.

Whether it's sugar, salt, or fine diamond dust, there's some sparkling coating on Buc-ee's Hill Country Brand Peppered Beef Jerky that glints with crystalline splendor. Similarly to Buc-ee's turkey jerky variety that apparently shares the Hill Country recipe, this beef version has a slight-red tint to the meat — but the similarities end there, because this jerky offers much more flavor and satisfaction than the formerly feathered option.

This variety is far from the most tender jerky on our list, but its dryness actually serves to impart an agreeable delayed-reaction effect, as gentle spiciness comes through with increased intensity after every chew. While packing a solid dose of heat, this flavor never rises to the level of being unbearable for the spice-averse, while providing just enough zing to satisfy those who like it hot. You have to put in a little work to savor the Hill Country, but the strip I ate went down smooth, with no clumps of shreds that refuse to dissolve.

While peering through the glass jerky counter amid throngs of American motorists buzzing around Buc-ee's, we ascertained that the Buc-ee's Cherry Maple Beef Jerky might be a bestseller; three separate trays of this variety were kept in stock, while other flavors had only a single tray (looking at you, Ghost Pepper). We expected this sweet-on-sweet option would be a little too cloying for our tastes, and asked for only the smallest portion possible. This turned out to be a mistake.

When it came time to taste this jerky, we were surprised to find that it's agreeably mild and still somewhat savory, instead of being overly sweet. The tart cherry and maple-syrup flavorings seem to thoroughly infuse the meat, rendering it soft and especially easy on the teeth; this is probably the most pliable of all Buc-ee's jerky offerings. While it doesn't exactly deliver the intense cherry flavor I was hoping for, it would be easy to go through a whole lot of this jerky in a single sitting.

If you visit Buc-ee's in search of a super-tender meat snack with savory depth, by all means, pick up a bag of the Buc-ee's Korean BBQ Beef Jerky — but if you're the driver, do not attempt to eat it while operating the vehicle. This was the stickiest jerky of the bunch, and anyone at the wheel who touches this treat with their fingers will almost certainly end up with delicious globs dotting the dashboard buttons and turn signal lever.

While this logistical issue may disqualify Buc-ee's Korean BBQ jerky from a list of the best road trip snacks, in this roundup it ranks close to the top. Soy sauce flavor floods in with each bite of this easy-chewing jerky, countered by sweetness that highlights its ample umami. This variety is not spicy at all, and will appeal to any barbecue fans. True, this can't compare to a freshly cooked bulgogi feast — but it may very well inspire travelers to seek out a Korean restaurant for a roadside dinner stop.

Buc-ee's Mesquite Peppered Beef Jerky tastes just like Texas. The hardy mesquite tree is native to the Lone Star State, and the uniquely bold flavor imparted by burning its wood is cherished for grilling meats across the Southwest and far beyond. A handful of this jerky truly encapsulates the rich, smoky flavor of beef barbecued over a mesquite flame.

The jerky itself has an intimidatingly gnarled appearance not unlike a mesquite log, but its texture is unexpectedly supple, almost melting in the mouth after just a few chews. A harmonious mélange of striking seasonings entices the palate with a bit of spiciness but not much heat, and the recipe's brown sugar adds a well-balanced sweetness. If Buc-ee's only sold this mesquite-flavored variety of jerky, that would be absolutely on-brand and sufficiently satisfying — but thankfully, the chain also offers the more distinctly tasty options that happen to rank just a bit higher than this one.

It's not hard to find teriyaki-flavored jerky, but a lot of its producers lean more toward the sweet elements of this classic Japanese sauce traditionally made according to recipes unique among different families. Whichever formula Buc-ee's used to marinate its Teriyaki Beef Jerky, it achieves a perfect balance between sweet and savory, with sensations of tamari soy sauce and sake meeting the brown sugar and ginger notes in careful equilibrium.

This is the kind of snack that may be intended to last several days on a road trip, but ends up being polished off in less than an hour after pulling out of a sprawling Buc-ee's parking lot. The umami-rich aroma that wafts from a freshly opened package is an olfactory siren song for any meat eater in the car; few can resist snagging piece after piece whenever the bag's within reach. Our only complaint about this variety is that it's a little hard to chew at first, but this is a small price to pay for such a delicious jerky.

It probably should be concerning that garlic never appears on the ingredients list of Buc-ee's Bohemian Garlic Beef Jerky. However, we're willing to overlook that — undisclosed "natural flavorings" are included, so garlic is probably lumped in with that item, right? There, that's all settled. Now onto what matters — the taste of this extraordinary jerky!

With a gently tender texture, this variety is amply garlicky without being overwhelming, as brown sugar smooths out any sting of the allium enhancement and soy sauce brings all the flavors together in umami harmony. What's there to say? This is just immensely enjoyable and uniquely seasoned jerky that begs to be gobbled while zooming across America.

Buc-ee's also produces a zero-sugar variety of its Bohemian Garlic Beef Jerky. We had every intention of picking up a small amount of that option for our taste test, but regrettably, none was available at the jerky counter of our chosen Buc-ee's location.

All of these jerky varieties were purchased during a January 2025 visit to the Buc-ee's in Florence, South Carolina. My wife and I tasted every jerky variety in one sitting, starting with the least spicy varieties in an attempt to prevent our taste buds from being contaminated by capsaicin. We determined the ranking order in a process of consensus based primarily on taste and texture.

Between jerky samplings, we sipped water to cleanse our palates (and when tasting the spiciest flavors, to soothe our scorched tongues). While both of us previously visited Buc-ee's locations and ate its food, we'd never tried Buc-ee's jerky before, so this ranking was not influenced by prior preferences. No Buc-ee's representative or employee was made aware that we were taste-testing and ranking the jerky for this article — including the costumed Buc-ee's mascot employee who kindly posed for a snapshot by the jerky selection.