15 Caesar Salad Dressing Brands, Ranked Worst To Best

At this point in my life, chicken Caesar salad wraps are practically a food group. They're easy to make, high in protein, and the perfect simple lunch or quick dinner, especially when paired with a crispy Diet Coke. However, there can be no chicken Caesar salad wrap without the iconic dressing.

I have tried many store-bought Caesar dressings in a row. While they all share the same basic ingredients — including Parmesan, anchovies, eggs, oil, garlic, and lemon juice or vinegar — they vary so much. As such, I wanted to get an idea of what the best store-bought Caesar is — and perhaps, more importantly, which brands to avoid. So, I purchased all the Caesar dressings I could find, tried them straight from the bottle, and ranked them from worst to best based on their mouthfeel, texture, and flavor balance. My top pick — and perhaps only my top pick — will make your Caesar salad taste as if it came from a restaurant.

I don't think it should come as a surprise, but "fat-free" and "Caesar" should never be used in the same sentence. This Walden Farms dressing has not only no fat but also no calories. And when it came out of the bottle looking like mucus, I knew that it was also going to have no resemblance to classic Caesar. 

My friends, this dressing jiggled like a bowl of Jell-O. It tasted garlicky and acidic, like I was eating fish paste. It was so umami-rich that I was sure someone had dumped straight MSG into it, although this was not an ingredient listed on the label. I don't think I've ever disliked a product I've ranked as much as I despised this dressing. There was no way any item on this list could be more disgusting.

I honestly thought I had a winner with Smash Kitchen, based on the simple, unflashy bottle alone. But once again, I set myself up for disappointment. This is perhaps one of the most "busy" salad dressings I tried. It was like a firework show; everything was competing for my complete attention, and I felt overstimulated by the end of it.

For one, this dressing is sour. It's not sour in an acidic way; it's sour in a something-curdled-and-doesn't-taste-right way. I don't know if this has an impact on the texture of the dressing, which is far too thin to be considered "Caesar," let alone "creamy Caesar." It's almost watery rather than full, and I imagine that it would wash away if you tossed it with even slightly damp lettuce. Then, I got distracted by the garlic, only to have my attention pulled away by some vegetable component that forced me to chew this dressing – yes, literally chew it. Why are there crunchy bits in a salad dressing? I don't entirely know, and I don't think Smash Kitchen knows, either.

Add a fishy overtone to the list of faults, and you have a salad dressing that only a trash can can love. It's not as putrid as the Walden Farms dressing, but I wouldn't recommend anyone add this one to their cart, either.

Marie's Caesar Dressing is a mayonnaise, and you can't convince me otherwise. It's never a good sign when I have to use a butter knife to scoop salad dressing out of a bottle. 

Besides its texture, this "dressing" also lacked any resemblance to Caesar. The only thing that it had in common with the classic dressing was its (overkill) thickness; there was no fresh acidity, garlic, Parmesan, or anchovy-adjacent notes to redeem it. Perhaps it would be suitable as a sandwich spread — like on a tomato sandwich or in lieu of mayonnaise on a BLT — but I couldn't imagine tossing it with lettuce or kale and eating it as a true dressing. While it wasn't as bad as Walden Farms (I doubt anything can be, to be honest), I won't be buying this brand ever again.

Brianna's dressing worried me at first because its color was not as starkly white as the others. Instead, it had a rainy-sky-gray hue, which looked more mustard-like when I poured it into a white serving cup. Compounded with the inclusion of Asiago cheese and the label "Dress Your Salad in Good Taste!", I feared the worst here — and I was just about right. 

Brianna, if you're reading this, you need to retake Caesar 101. This is, in no way, a Caesar dressing. It lacks creaminess, and the umami Parmesan, and the only thing that I could taste was the Worcestershire sauce and the vinegar. It was bright and light, sure, but it was in no way, shape, or form a Caesar. Caesar Cardini himself is rolling over in his grave after seeing you try to pass this dressing off as Caesar.

It's hard to decide whether a dressing that tastes like straight mayo or one that tastes like fish sauce vinaigrette is better. While neither end of the spectrum is good, the fishy overtones and harsh flavor pushed this one to the back of my ranking. 

Tuscan Garden is Aldi's in-house dressing brand. And if you guessed that you probably shouldn't trust a budget grocer for something as important as Caesar dressing, you'd be right. This dressing, in one word, is eggy. The yolky flavor overtook the entire dressing. While I was glad that it didn't taste like straight mayonnaise as Marie's did, it's far from pleasant, and I fear it would make my green salad taste more like an egg salad sandwich. In fact, I could even recommend adding a bit of it to a chicken salad to give it a more Caesar-adjacent spin.

There were some flecks of Parmesan and peppercorn bits visible in this creamy dressing, but there wasn't nearly enough acidity to cut through the flavor, which is likely why egginess is the predominant flavor. Some fresh garlic or lemon juice would certainly spruce it up, but since there are far better dressings, I can't say this one is a favorite or worth adding to your Aldi cart.

If you buy Olive Garden dressing at the grocery store, choose the Signature Italian, not the Classic Caesar. Based on this taste test, I would assume the brand has tried to emulate the acidity of its Italian dressing in its other offerings, because this Caesar tastes like it's trying to impersonate the iconic Italian.

And if it were an Italian dressing, it would be a fine one. But since it's supposed to be a Caesar, I have to report that it failed on nearly all fronts. While there was plenty of Parmesan stuck in my molars, there was also an underlying acidity that pushed it more into vinaigrette territory than creamy dressing territory. It's somewhat rich, though not as pleasantly textured as some of the higher-ranked brands on my list. The aftertaste is rife with garlic and anchovy notes, but they really aren't apparent until after you swallow, which kind of defeats the purpose of having them in the first place. It's not an unpleasant dressing — and you may pick it if you can't decide between Caesar or Italian — but I personally wouldn't put it on my salad again.

I have good news, dear reader: We have a dressing that's not masquerading as mayo! But whether Nature's Promise Caesar is a good dressing is an entirely different matter. It's very thin and watery, so if you were to put it on damp lettuce, you'd likely end up with a puddle at the bottom of your bowl. It also lacks the rich creaminess of a proper Caesar. I don't find drinking Parmesan-and-fish-flavored water very pleasant, so I couldn't give this organic option a higher ranking.

This dressing has a more acidic body, though it leans vinaigrette-like, similar to Olive Garden. It did earn a slightly higher spot on my list because the Parmesan wasn't as annoying and didn't stick in my molars as Olive Garden's dressing did.

Mayonnaise. Why do I taste mayonnaise? This one struggled in the mayo-adjacent department, which is why it earned a middling spot on my list. I could see the peppercorns in the dressing, though I didn't spy many flecks of Parmesan or evidence of garlic. When I took a bite, I got a balance of vinegary, eggy, and oily. What do those three ingredients make? Mayonnaise.

There are a couple of things that could have helped this dressing — chief among them is a splash of lemon juice for brightness. It would have also been more palatable if it had used fewer eggs or countered their flavor with more cheese. It was more adjacent to a "true Caesar" than a vinaigrette, but I still did not love this dressing.

I tried Wish-Bone's Creamy Caesar Dressing right after the putrid Walden Farms dressing, and I'd never been happier about eating positively mid salad dressing before in my life. This one was creamy and well-textured — not too thick, but also not too thin. It was speckled with what I assumed was pepper and had some acidity. However, what I was most put off by when I tried it was its almost bacon-y aftertaste. It was a tad dry and musty, like it had been made with old garlic powder rather than the fresh stuff. The acidity in it wasn't fresh or inviting.

If you tossed it with lettuce or in a Caesar wrap, you may not have noticed anything was wrong with it. But I tried it from the bottle, and I could immediately tell that it doesn't hit the mark for even a store-bought salad dressing. Wish-Bone has far better selections (its Thousand Island dressing isn't half-bad) than this Caesar, earning it a spot near, but not on the bottom of this list.

If you like a garlicky Caesar, you have come to the right place. I absolutely love garlic in any and all things, especially salad dressings, but even I can admit that there is a threshold at which the amount of garlic becomes overwhelming. And overwhelming is a good word to describe Ken's Steak House Dressing.

This dressing isn't just relentlessly garlicky; it's also mayonnaise-like, making it more of a dipping sauce than a salad dressing. The first thing you notice after the garlic is the acidity, which is bright and tries to do jumping jacks to get your attention, but all of that hard work is washed away by the extremely thick, mayonnaise-like texture. It's not as outwardly eggy as the Tuscan Garden dressing, but it still has enough of the eggy notes — compounded by its thickness — that would make a mayonnaise hater squirm. 

Although Ken's Steak House bears some resemblance to Marie's refrigerated dressing, I placed it higher because it at least tastes like something other than mayonnaise. But the lacking Parmesan flavor and peppercorn essence kept it out of the top spots. If you are a garlic lover (more of a garlic lover than me, if that's possible), you may like it more than I did. Just don't blame me if you keep vampires away for the foreseeable future.

I trust Kraft with my boxed mac and cheese (which another one of our tasters tried and ranked), and its chipotle sauce isn't half-bad, but I can't say that its Caesar is doing the brand any favors. For one, it's bland. Is there acidity? Sure. What about spice? Yep. Garlic is right there with it, too. But am I going to rush out to my local Walmart to buy a bottle of it when there are so many store-brands that can do better? No, not at all. 

This dressing is certainly adequate. It's not overtly fishy, nor does it smell like anchovies, which would make it appealing for someone who vehemently despises fishiness. But in an effort to be approachable and not upset anyone, Kraft skipped bold flavors. The dressing is one note, which, on one hand, might be good for someone who doesn't want to think too much about their dressing. But I was waiting for something punchy and flavorful that could quite literally shift my world on its Caesar salad axis. Kraft doesn't do that, so I had to rank it lower than some of my other top picks.

Chick-fil-A is one of the two refrigerated dressings I tried for this ranking, though this is not the only thing unique about it. It also specifies that it's "Parmesan Caesar." That sounds kind of redundant (like isn't Caesar supposed to have Parmesan in it?), but I went ahead and added it to my shopping list anyway.

This is a great Parmesan Peppercorn dressing — but it's not a good Caesar dressing. I appreciated that it tasted fresh and zippy, and the generous seasoning helped. As the label promised, there was also more than enough Parmesan to go around. However, there was almost too much going on for my taste buds to focus and really identify it as a Caesar. It had all of the makings of a good Caesar, but the components seemed to fight one another for my attention more than they worked together. I will definitely use the rest of this dressing, but it wasn't my favorite Caesar that I tried.

Newman's Own makes a tasty lineup of products, and I think its jarred salsa is one of the best on store shelves. But should Paul Newman be tinkering with Caesar? Yes and no. On one hand, this was one of the better dressings I tried. The taste wasn't eggy or flabby, and the first notes I could detect were garlic and lemon (I suppose I knew this was coming, as there are cloves and lemons on the label). However, after that, it was not Parmesan or anchovy: It was herbs. It tasted more like dried oregano than anything Caesar-ish. 

While this flavor gave the impression of a more "homemade" spin on classic Caesar, it also made it decidedly un-Caesar-like. If the herbs had taken more of a backseat here and let the classic Caesar ingredients have their time in the spotlight, I would have liked this dressing more. However, that's not to say that I outright disliked this dressing. Like Chick-fil-A's Parmesan Caesar, I appreciate the creative license of Newman's Own. Caesar snobs may not feel the same way, but it's still a dressing I would come back to.

I had tried about eight of these dressings by the time I got to Great Value, so I was kind of assuming all hope was lost. But Great Value did offer at least a passable dressing option and marks this ranking's foray into what I consider true Caesar dressings. This affordable store-branded option hit all the marks it needed to be successful — or at least satisfactory. Yeah, let's call it satisfactory. 

There were plenty of flecks of cheese and spice in this dressing, and the garlic flavor was readily apparent from the first bite to the last. While some Caesar dressings are very obviously made with anchovies and are off-putting to folks who are sensitive to their strong flavor, Great Value masks them well. The acidity makes it taste very fresh and bright, and the fact that the garlic wasn't stale elevated this dressing all the more. The components interacted in a way that Chick-fil-A's didn't, and the fact that this is a budget-friendly option makes me like it even more. 

However, the one thing that I was looking for was richness and creaminess. The dressing is creamy enough, for sure, but when I eat a Caesar salad, I want to almost feel like I'm eating heavy cream (garlic- and Parmesan-heavy cream, that is). This one is on the thinner side, so I couldn't slot it in at the top. It's a tasty selection, but just not my favorite.

Caesar Cardini, my friend, thank you for saving this ranking of store-bought Caesar dressings. I had a feeling you would come in clutch — not only are you the creator of Caesar dressing (one of many facts about Caesar salad you may not know), but this branded dressing is the only one I will be using on my Caesar salads going forward. Although it also costs nearly $6 a bottle at my local Walmart, this is one instance where the purchase is more than justified.

This dressing has it all: acidity, creaminess, no resemblance to mayonnaise, Parmesan, spice — you name it, it has it. Not only are these elements present, but they play with one another to create a bite that is creamy and rich, but never overpowering or unbalanced. Every other brand on this list could learn something from Caesar Cardini's, which is why it earned the top spot.

I eat Caesar salads more often than I'd like to admit, which made me an ideal candidate to try and rank as many store-bought versions of it as I could find. I tried these on the same day that I purchased them without any accompaniments (like lettuce, croutons, or chicken) to assess their flavor and texture. 

I was looking for a traditional Caesar dressing that had notes of all of its major components: Parmesan, garlic, lemon juice, eggs/oil/something creamy, and anchovies. Dressings that tasted too mayo-like or too vinaigrette-adjacent (read: most of them) paled in comparison to ones that were boldly flavored with a balanced acidity and creaminess.