Soup Friday: McAlister's Deli - Chicken Tortilla
After craving some deli food all week, I decided to research what types of soups my local delicatessens had to offer in my local area. And woo doggie, they did not disappoint. Matzo ball, lentil, mushroom barley, pasta fagioli, tomato bisque—the delectable-sounding soup options were endless! Unfortunately for this soup reviewer, the hours of operations for the average local deli in my area are quite limited with many closing around 2 PM. That coupled with my Friday work schedule consisting of multiple midday meetings restricted me from having the opportunity to review any of these fascinating selections. I considered faking an illness to leave work early, but the fear of karma striking back at me with an illness that would only allow me to consume non-soup liquids for a week gave me the chills. Luckily, I eventually stumbled across an unexpected deli option as I shifted my search area on Google Maps. I discovered that a new McAlister’s Deli opened within fifteen minutes of my location.
Even though it was a chain and not a local spot, my interest was piqued as this would be my first time heading to a McAlister’s. In my college days, I could have tried their Penn State location at the student union building, but I always opted to recklessly spend my meal points and LionCash on either Chick-fil-A or Burger King. Thankfully, my metabolism and exercise levels were high enough back then to mitigate the weight gain to just a freshman five.
I arrived at the new McAlister’s Deli after a relatively quiet day at work. Something about the building looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall exactly what. I escaped the cold as I opened the door to a bright atmosphere featuring inoffensive pop music roaring from above. I gazed up at the menu and the chicken tortilla soup immediately caught my eye. I also noticed the Choose 2 combo meal that allows you to pick two half versions of the entrée items. While I was in the mood for a deli sandwich all week, I decided to pick a half of a McAlister’s Giant Spud for a couple of reasons. The first being that I haven’t seen many fast casual restaurants or delis include a potato as a signature menu item. The other reason cut deeper on a personal level.
Spud was the name of my happy-go-lucky cactus that looked like your average cactus but with a smiling potato emerging from the top of it. During the 2020 era of new outside hobbies, while others grew beautiful flowers in their garden and yielded fresh produce in their fields, I fostered cacti. Spud was my third cactus. I decided to purchase Spud online after a successful period of care (five weeks) of Spud’s older siblings, Cowboy Curtis and Janko. After a few months, Spud became my first cactus to die. I vowed to never order a cactus from a sketchy website again. However, a later autopsy performed by my mother revealed that overwatering was the cause of death.
Artist depiction. No photographic evidence remains of Spud. I can already hear Seth Rogen voice Spud in a movie.
In the middle of my Choose 2 order, I took a moment of silence in honor of Spud. The cashier, growing impatient for my order, barked at me demanding my potato order. I fell back to reality and hastily selected the Smokehouse Spud. I like to think that’s the choice my late cactus would have made.
As an employee brought my food out, I finally realized that this building was previously a Rite Aid. While I can no longer purchase classic pharmacy staples like ointment or laxatives here, McAlister’s does at least pay tribute to its building predecessor by charging exorbitant prices for its food. My credit card bill increased by seventeen dollars for an order that consisted of a loaded baked potato, a small cup of soup, and a fountain drink. The Smokehouse Spud is apparently a premium spud choice as it comes with a $1.89 upcharge to get the extra fixins on top. I understand why, but who the hell is just choosing the potato with just cheese as the lone topping. The soup cup looks smaller than a kiddie or pup cup one could receive at an ice cream parlor. My $3.39 Coke Zero had 80% of its plastic cup volume filled with ice. You at least get your money’s worth in calories as this order tallied up to around 960 calories.
Interestingly, this angle actually makes the soup appear much larger than its actual size. Fellas, take notes.
At first glance, I thought they delivered the wrong soup. The chicken tortilla’s thick, processed cheese yellow appearance was not matching any of the features I had grown accustomed to in my previous encounters with chicken tortilla soup. McAlister’s chooses to substitute the traditional broth for a cheesier cream base. That made sense as the soup reminded me of queso with the inclusions of a scarce amount of chicken throughout it and scallions garnished on top. Furthermore, I was perturbed by the fact that there weren’t even any tortilla strips in the soup. Instead, McAlister’s went all in on the dip theme by including tortilla chips in a plastic bag on the side. As a queso, it’s sufficient. As a soup, it’s deficient. While I am not against the idea of just chowing down on spoonfuls of queso, I’d rather just have traditional chicken tortilla soup like I expected when I originally ordered it.
To McAlister’s credit, I did appreciate that they provided me with silverware rather than the plasticware I’m used to getting at a fast-casual establishment. Seven less microplastics consumed for this soup reviewer! As stated in Fieri Doctrine, putting mac and cheese, bacon, and pulled pork on anything, like they do with the Smokehouse Spud, will instantly transport you to Flavor Town. I also appreciated the Charli xcx music that played as I wrapped up my meal. Unfortunately for this soup brat, his tough stretch of Soup Fridays continues.