Very thin slices and very strong spicy flavour. Clearly a premium product as I’ve seen it in local health food stores near my work.

The thinness of the cut here is definitely a differentiator against other brands, the meat is also a bit dryer than some other biltong brands I’m thinking of (though my preference for fatty biltong might be clouding my vision here).

Now, I’ll be straight with you: I’m not normally a chilli fiend. Give me a mild korma over a vindaloo any day of the week. But Chief’s chilli biltong has this thing going on where the heat sneaks up on you rather than smacking you in the face like an angry bouncer at 2am. It’s more of a warm handshake than a slap, if that makes sense.

The strips themselves are paper-thin, almost translucent in places. You could probably read a newspaper through them if you were so inclined (though I can’t imagine why you’d want to when there’s perfectly good biltong to be eating). This means they’re less of a jaw workout than the chunky artisanal stuff you get at farmers markets, which is either a pro or a con depending on whether you view biltong consumption as a meditative endurance sport or just a nice snack.

Texture-wise, it’s got that proper snap to it. None of this jerky-style chewiness that goes on forever like a bad conversation at a family barbecue. A few bites and you’re done, which makes it dangerously easy to polish off an entire packet while you’re supposedly “just having a couple of pieces” during your afternoon work slump.

The chilli seasoning is the star of the show here. It’s not just raw heat for the sake of it. There’s actually some complexity going on, a bit of smokiness, maybe a touch of garlic lurking in the background. It reminds me of those fancy chilli flakes you get at pizza restaurants that cost more than the actual pizza.

At around $12 to $15 a pack (depending on where you catch it), Chief isn’t trying to compete with your servo jerky. This is health food store territory, sitting next to the activated almonds and the kombucha that costs more than petrol. But here’s the thing: the quality justifies the price. The meat’s clearly decent, the seasoning’s been thought about, and you’re not left with that weird chemical aftertaste some cheaper options lumber you with.

Would I buy it again? Yeah, probably. It’s become my go-to when I need something protein-heavy that won’t make me feel like I’ve just eaten a small car. Perfect for those days when you’re stuck in back-to-back Zoom calls and need something you can discreetly munch on without looking like you’re attempting to eat a shoe.

The only real criticism I can level at Chief’s chilli biltong is that the packets never seem to last as long as you think they will. Though that’s less a fault of the product and more a damning indictment of my own self-control.

The verdict: Solid effort. Premium price, premium product. The chilli’s got character without being show-offy about it. Buy it, enjoy it, try not to eat the whole thing in one sitting like I did.

Rating: 4 out of 5 nostalgic nods to that one time I tried to make my own biltong and ended up with what can only be described as “leather-adjacent disappointment.”