This is not just a chicken sandwich contest, although like a lot of people in the country, we are comparing the sandwiches from Popeye’s, Chick-fil-A and Wendy’s.

It’s hard to think of two chicken joints more different than Chick-fil-A and Popeye’s, and we’re living in fractured times. We’re caught up in a match between Saturday night and Sunday morning.

On the one hand, Chick-fil-A: Here’s a company that found itself at the center of controversy a few years ago when CEO Dan Cathy, son of the company’s founder, made comments against gay marriage and donated money to help defeat the legalization of same-sex marriage.

In 2012, the restaurants were ground zero for “Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day,” led by former Arkansas governor and conservative talk-radio host Mike Huckabee, followed two days later by “National Same Sex Kiss Day,” organized by various gay rights groups and given the nickname “Kiss Mor Chiks,” a poke at the restaurant’s billboards that feature cows painting misspelled words urging people to eat “mor chikin.”

Popeye’s, on the other hand, started in a New Orleans suburb, founded by native son Al Copeland, who was known for various displays of flamboyance in his life. It was reportedly named after Popeye Doyle in “The French Connection.” Dr. John sang its “Love That Chicken” jingle, and Anthony Bourdain on numerous occasions professed his love for this bad-boy chicken.

The company suffered poor management and eventual bankruptcy, and it would be hard to argue that it’s not, though long out of Copeland’s hands, still suffering from haphazard management, if the absurd handling of the current national need for its chicken sandwich is a true indicator. (Note that no one even seemed to care about Popeye’s sandwich until Chick-fil-A jabbed at it on social media. Did Chick-fil-A execs know Popeye’s wouldn’t be able to provide anything approaching their own level of efficiency? Was Popeye’s just waiting to be called out so they could claim the cachet of overwhelming demand?)

At lunch Monday, a visit to Chick-fil-A on Poplar Avenue in East Memphis took six minutes from the time I entered the parking lot to the time I turned back onto Poplar and headed to Popeye’s a few blocks west. I spent eight minutes in line there, only to be told there were no chicken sandwiches to be had. But, the young woman on the speaker said, I should try back in 30 minutes.

I headed over to Popeye’s on Perkins at I-240, where I spent four minutes in a motionless line before it occurred to me that I should check the drive-through board for a sign — which I saw Friday at another Popeye’s — to see if they even had chicken sandwiches. I was glad I did, because I was inches away from being stuck in a line with no way of exit and there was a sign taped over the highly-sought item on the menu. The woman behind me let me leave (she was there for the sandwich and leaving, too), and I was ready to give up.

Wendy’s is no slouch in the fast-food chicken sandwich game – and there was certainly nothing controversial about the likable owner/philanthropist Dave Thomas and the gruff Clara Peller on the “Where’s the Beef?” commercials – so I added it to the mix, picked one up in three minutes at Poplar and Perkins, and gave the Poplar Avenue Popeye’s another try. It took me six minutes to make the left-hand turn and another 14 to get my order, but I left with a spicy and a regular chicken sandwich.

Full disclosure: I haven’t eaten fast food in years, except a Whataburger on vacation, or the occasional drive-through dip cone. Well, a Frosty once or twice a summer. And while I now and again will buy fried chicken from Pirtle’s or Popeye’s, it’s eaten at home with the most wholesome of vegetables.

But I used to like Wendy’s, and I was pulling for it. I wanted it to be so good that I could rave about it, say we should shut down the chicken sandwich showdown and call it done. But it either was an off day or it just isn’t as good as it used to be. Meh.

Take note that the Chick-fil-A sandwiches (a regular and a deluxe) had been in my car for about an hour by the time I went to Popeye’s three times and got home. They were still slightly warm in their foil packets, but I nonetheless took the sandwiches apart and heated the patties in the oven to level the field.

But it didn’t matter. It was like Popeye’s was playing Quidditch and the rest were playing cricket. Four of us tasted five sandwiches, and while we didn’t agree on the second- and third-place winners, we all picked Popeye’s spicy chicken sandwich as the frontrunner by far.

First, the patty is close to double the thickness of Wendy’s or Chick-fil-A’s deluxe and much larger than the standard Chick-fil-A sandwich. It’s crisper, which was a big deal to three of us and even though the fourth prefers the patty less crisp, the taste won him over.

Because it does taste better. The Chick-fil-A deluxe ($4.35) was mostly salty, not very spicy, and the regular sandwich ($3.49) was bland. It just comes with a pickle slice! Nothing else! Wendy’s, blah. Being able to pick the toppings gives it a bump, but it was the priciest sandwich ($4.99) and only one person picked it for second place.

Both Popeye’s sandwiches ($3.99) come dressed with mayo — spicy mayo on the spicy sandwich — and pickle slices, with an “s” on the end. (They’re good pickles, too; a crisp dill.) The chicken was tender, the bun was buttered and toasted. While I preferred the kick of the spicy, my second favorite sandwich was Popeye’s regular.

I’ve never been a Chick-fil-A fan, and truthfully that’s more about the controversy than the food. I could probably count the number of times I’ve been there on one hand, mostly in a mall food court long ago. But I give them an A+ for that drive-through line, which moved lickety-split. And Popeye’s chicken has long been a favorite of mine. But staying in that line and making three stops – no way I would do that just for me. I was working; I did that for you.

Now, I know what it’s like to live on New Orleans time, and that leisurely pace suits me fine when I’m there. But management (a corporate subsidiary these days) better get their supply whipped in shape before demand ceases, because a chicken sandwich is, in the end, just a chicken sandwich. 

Don’t want any of them? You have other choices. Come back Friday and read Chris Herrington’s Food Fight. He’s been trying some non-fast-food chicken sandwiches and word is, he’s not sticking to just two for this sandwich showdown.