9 Little Debbie Treats Ranked Worst To Best

Here's how you know the holidays are coming: Mariah Carey starts defrosting, ads for Black Friday sales start appearing, and Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes make their way onto store shelves. These seasonal treats have gotten their fair share of social media fame over the past few years, spawning a collection of themed clothing, dog toys, and knick-knacks. But long before there was the Christmas Tree Cake, there was the OG Little Debbie. The brand got its start in the 1960s officially, but it was almost 30 years before that when O.D. McKee started tinkering with the brand's first best-seller: oatmeal creme pies. Eventually, the line expanded to 75 different types of snack cakes and treats, including seasonal staples, iconic labels, and some lesser-known (but still tasty) options.

I didn't eat a ton of Little Debbie snacks as a kid — aside from the occasional Cosmic Brownie or two. But seeing the press about the brand (and its spin-off creations, like ice cream), I wanted to see which of Little Debbie's core lineup is actually worth buying. So, I did what any experienced and well-credentialed food reviewer would do: I took to my local Walmart, loaded up my cart with some of Little Debbie's most popular treats, tasted them, and ranked them based on their texture, flavor, and overall enjoyability. Since I reached my snack cake quota in no time flat, I had to leave Little Debbie's seasonal favorites off the list ('til next time, Christmas Tree Cakes). You can read more about my methodology at the end of this piece. Until then, we have some snackin' to do.

I like chocolate cookies, especially sandwich ones, so I figure that Little Debbie's fudge rounds would be a shoo-in for a top spot on this ranking. However, I couldn't have been more disappointed by them. The cookies themselves aren't bad; they're plush but not so soft and fake-tasting that you'd assume they're filled to the brim with preservatives. The chocolate icing is a nice touch, as it adds a more complex foil to the sweet cookie than some of the other creme pie-like variations on this list. However, the one thing that I couldn't get over about this treat was that it tasted like Tootsie rolls. Tootsie rolls, which I consider to be a fundamentally bad candy because they taste acrid, bitter, and licorice-like — three flavors that have no place in a snack cake.

The other thing I was looking for Little Debbie to really sell me on here was the "fudge" label. Fudge is supposed to be rich, decadent, and flavorful — a step above chocolate. These snack cakes — in terms of the filling, cookie, and the drizzle of icing on top — hit the chocolate note, but they failed to deliver the fudgy consistency I was looking for. I like the idea of having a chocolate creme pie in the Little Debbie lineup — which is historically dominated by vanilla flavors (as demonstrated by its prominence on this ranking), but the execution on this product was too poor to warrant ranking it any higher.

You can never really have too many creme pies, so after my brief run-in with Little Debbie's oatmeal creme pie, I made my way to the next pie contender: the birthday cake creme pie. I think this treat is supposed to sandwich two layers of vanilla cookie (maybe cake? Your guess is as good as mine) with creme and a vanilla frosting coating and hard sprinkles. I knew going in that this treat was going to be a lot, and I don't think I could have done anything to prepare myself for the sugary wave that was to come.

As I was eating, I was admittedly hung up on the texture. I couldn't decide whether the cake layer was supposed to be more like a cookie, a cake, or something else entirely. It was almost layered and short, like a scone, and the only perceivable flavors were "sweet" and something vaguely vanilla-like, but clearly not real vanilla. Normally, I would have been glad to see that Little Debbie didn't skimp on the vanilla frosting filling inside of this creme pie, but compounded with the cloying icing that encased the whole pie, I was left wishing that Little Debbie expressed a little less creative license. I thought that some of the higher-ranked sweets on this list were cloying, but nothing compares to the weird consistency and I-need-to-wash-my-mouth-out-after-eating-this sensation that comes with this snack. Even if it was less sweet, I don't think I could look past its identity crisis of a "cookie," earning it a spot toward the bottom of my list.

I had to start my Little Debbie tasting journey with the veritable OG: the oatmeal creme pie. O.D. McKee himself made this treat, after stuffing two soft oatmeal cookies with a thick and fluffy layer of creme. It's not like what you would find inside of an Oreo or some other cheap sandwich cookie. Rather, this creme filling is spread on thick — almost like the icing you would find on a store-bought cupcake.

When I opened the box, I knew that this is one product that had been hit by shrinkflation. These cookies look like the ones you'd buy from the cookie section of the grocery store; they're small, not like the big, whopping chocolate chip cookies I would make at home or order at a bakery. This palm-sized treat smelled a lot like brown sugar, but I couldn't pick up on any other aromas besides that.

I came to realize, very quickly, that the oatmeal creme pies were going to be a very interesting textural experience. The cookies are soft, so I thought that there was no way that they weren't riddled with artificial preservatives. It made me wonder whether these "pies" ever actually went bad. When I bit into one, I was met with a squashing sound as the cookie and creme broke off and into my mouth. The flavor was nothing besides "sweet." I knew there was oatmeal in the cookies because of the feeling on my molars, but there was very little going on besides that. The creme itself resembles marshmallow fluff, and I don't think an already soft cookie needs a filling with that texture. It would appease a kid (not as much as some of the other Little Debbie treats, though), but my adult palate was too overwhelmed by its sugariness.

Star Crunch may have been inspired by the moon landing, but let me assure you that these snacks are indeed not out of this world. Is it a cookie, like the package advertises, or is it a cake? I haven't the slightest idea. There is supposed to be a cookie base within the chocolate and rice cereal-covered coating, I think, but the only taste that I could discern was sweet, sticky caramel. Little Debbie does well in terms of the freshness of its snacks, so I was surprised to see that the rice on this snack food didn't retain any sort of crunchiness and was one of the few to fail the texture test. It was like the wet caramel had been mixed with the rice cereal and left to go soggy after a few hours before being covered with chocolate. I expected something snappier — like a Crunch bar.

After digging around, I found that there was indeed a cookie inside of this creation, and it was the same one used for the oatmeal creme pies. This makes sense, considering the only flavor I could taste was sweet and the only texture that I got was sticky. Combining an already sweet cookie with a super-sweet caramel coating was a recipe for disaster. If McKee Foods would swap out the cookie for a crunchy wafer and toast the cereal for a little while longer, it would elevate this snack cake higher on my list. But as it stands, it's a too sweet treat that lacks direction. Can you say, "Houston, we have a problem?"

What's black and white and sweet all over? Zebra cakes! These treats, which are, oddly enough, trademarked, feature a soft cake base, fluffy vanilla icing, and a black and white "zebra" coating. I was expecting that the "zebra" would extend down deep into the cake, channeling some sort of marbled cake base, but I was sadly mistaken. I also suspected that there would be some chocolate influence somewhere, but I quickly came to find out that this cake was like a New York City black-and-white cookie: The black isn't actually chocolate, it's all the same flavor.

As such, there's no balance to the cloying, artificial vanilla flavor in these cakes. Structurally, the cake and the filling on these snack cakes is excellent, though not as flavorful as the snack cake that ranked above it. Like the birthday cake creme pies, that overtly sweet coating on top really took things to the next level and made this snack food a little too sweet for my liking. The exterior icing coated my mouth in an unpleasant film, making more than two bites of this cake difficult to finish.

Despite the party-ready appearance of these cakes, and the cheerful zebra mascot on the outside of the box, I can't help but think that these Zebra cakes are very dull. Realistically, Little Debbie would have to revamp this whole snack to prompt me to move it upward in my ranking.

I am a big cinnamon roll person. So, I'd be a little offended if anyone tried to convince me that these honey buns are at all cinnamon roll-like. Instead, the honey buns are like the gas station version of cinnamon rolls. Don't get your hopes up for decadent swirls of cinnamon sugar filling and a tasty vanilla icing. They don't taste honey-like, nor do they have any of the qualities of a proper cinnamon roll.

Granted, the disc-shaped treats are larger than many of other Little Debbie snacks on this list, so I didn't feel like I was being as shortchanged when I opened the box. Like the oatmeal creme pies, it's very clear that Little Debbie opened the floodgates on the preservatives here; I have no doubt that the honey buns would not only survive a nuclear war, but that they'd still be just as soft when you peeled back the plastic wrapper.

The flavor of these rolls is on par with a grocery store glazed donut, or any other generic "honey bun" you'd find at a gas station. The cinnamon isn't worthy of note, and its flavor is so cheap and sad that it just passed right over my taste buds. I don't think these honey buns are at all good, and I can't think of an occasion where I would go out and buy one to satisfy a non-existent craving. However, they earned a spot above the other treats because they were slightly more likable and less overwhelmingly sweet. They might be better warmed up in the microwave for a few seconds, and I suppose you could eat one with coffee if you absolutely had to.

Interestingly enough, Cosmic Brownies have nothing to do with outer space; they were actually inspired by the '90s trend of cosmic bowling. The neon-colored candy pieces on the exterior of the brownie were inspired by the brightly colored bowling balls and neon lights of a turn-of-the-century bowling alley. And, I'll admit that the feeling of eating a Cosmic Brownie is kind of like putting on a pair of shared shoes and going bowling: It's not actually that enjoyable, and it's only something you do in an attempt to relive your childhood glory days.

That's to say I've eaten my fair share of Cosmic Brownies over the years, and it doesn't taste any better at 25 than it did when I was 10. The sensation of biting into one of them is very odd. Like the oatmeal creme pies, you can audibly hear a squishing sound when your molars sink down into the fudge-covered brownie. The brownie itself is very compact and dense. While I always prefer fudgy brownies over cakey ones, these were a bit too fudgy for my liking. It was very clear, down to the gravel-like candies on top that show these brownies were mass-produced, rather than made with love in someone's home kitchen. They aren't as sweet as some of the other Little Debbie products, but I doubt I would eat them more than once a year.

That said, Cosmic Brownies have a time and a place, and I think there is something deeply nostalgic about eating one and thinking about the time an adult packed them for you in your school lunch box. But if you're looking for a good brownie, these are far from it.

O.D. McKee got inspiration from this Little Debbie offering from a trip to Europe in which he tried a roulade and realized that he could hit it with a shrink gun and make another fantastic snack food (okay, maybe the shrink gun part isn't true, but the international inspo is). Roulades are tricky to make — I would know; I've had many of them break on me. But, the McKee Foods Corporation was able to figure it out and even encase the whole thing in chocolate.

A Swiss roll is what I think of when I think of a snack cake. It's ridiculously soft and sweet, yet still in small enough of a package that you can eat a twin pack and not think twice about it. They feature both a chocolate cake roll and a chocolate filling, which encase what I think is the same creme that's inside of the oatmeal creme pies.

These Swiss rolls are quite sweet, which is why I couldn't give them the top spot on this ranking, but they seem a little more thought-out than some of the lower-ranked snacks on the list. The soft cake is the perfect match for the copious amounts of white fluffy frosting, while the chocolate ties the flavor together with a neat little bow. It makes for a simple, bite-sized dessert, though it was still a little too sweet for my liking.

I had a feeling that the Nutty Buddy would score at the top of my list of Little Debbie snacks from the beginning. It had what so many of the other snacks on this list lacked: a balancing savory flavor. Think of it like a KitKat and a Reese's peanut butter cup had a baby — a very, very large baby at that. These Nutty Buddy sticks come two to a pack, which I think is a little excessive, given that there is more than enough peanut butter, wafer, and chocolate to go around.

Don't get me wrong, these Nutty Buddies are still very sweet. The chocolate flavor isn't memorable, and it's like the cheap chocolate candy bars I remember eating as a kid. But when you get a bite of the crisp wafer with the chocolate and the soft, almost-whipped peanut butter, it's absolutely heavenly. Little Debbie could have absolutely loaded up these sticks with peanut butter and made them super heavy. But as they stand, they're remarkably crisp, light, and easy to eat — which can't be said for many of the other Little Debbie treats on this list.

The construction and texture of the Nutty Buddies are remarkably satisfying and add to their appeal as a snack food. If I walked into a gas station with a sweets craving, these would be one of the treats I would seek out, along with a water, because they made me extra thirsty.

Since there are so many different Little Debbie snacks out there, I knew I had to limit my selections to some of the brand's top hits for this ranking. I purchased all of these on the same day that I sampled them to stave off any concerns about staling (though they would probably outlast me if given the chance). As I snacked, I considered several factors. While no one is saying that Little Debbie snack cakes and treats are gourmet by any means, each variety should have a balanced flavor, some complexity, and be more than just "sweet." Many of the lower-ranking snacks on my list failed to meet this most basic bar, and had strange aftertastes and/or one-dimensional flavors that took over the entire bite.

I also looked at the texture of each snack cake. Again, I wasn't expecting bib gourmand, but I did want a texture that was appropriate for the style of treat — soft and plush for the roll, snappy for the wafer, and fudgy for the brownies. The snack cakes should have some compelling element that pulls me back in for another bite, and I can say that the only one that did so was my top pick.