11 Store-Bought Cranberry Sauces Ranked From Worst To Best

Cranberries are a fruit whose presence we seem to wipe from our collective memories for the better part of the year. But once the weather starts changing and trick-or-treaters return to their homes, it's the cranberry's time to shine. Bags of fresh berries and cans of cranberry sauce, jellied or not, magically appear on grocery store shelves, summoning with them some holiday cheer.

Cranberry sauce on its own is controversial. The tart, astringent taste of the berries causes some to turn their noses up, but even more controversial is the kind that comes in a can. Perhaps it's the resounding slurp, plop, and jiggle when it hits the plate that rubs some dinner guests the wrong way. Or, perhaps it's that canned cranberry sauce struggles to compare in flavor to the freshly-made version. Whatever the case, what we know for sure is that sometimes a can is necessary.

Cooking a whole Thanksgiving spread is a feat on its own, and in the event you need a quick fill-in (or some extra sauce for sandwiches the next day) a canned cranberry sauce is sometimes the best option. Choosing the right one is important. Each can varies in texture, flavor, and price, which is why I've tried seven different brands for a total of 11 different kinds of cranberry sauce to find the best one. My goal: to find a store-bought cranberry sauce that most closely resembles a homemade one. Prices may vary based on location.

My least favorite canned cranberry sauce was one of (but not the most) affordable options, ringing in at about $2.19. Best Yet's Jellied Cranberry Sauce was underwhelming from the start. My first taste was bland and completely lacking in acidity, astringency, or even pronounced sweetness (especially surprising considering there's 23 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup).

While it was thick, gelatinous, and red in color, it tasted like a cranberry sauce that had been watered down. Its ingredients surprised me: cranberries, high fructose corn syrup, filtered water, corn syrup, and citric acid. Citric acid is used in many foods as a preservative, but it also has a distinctly acidic flavor — and yet that signature cranberry sourness was nowhere to be found.

As with many cranberry sauce brands, the label on the can was seemingly upside down, with the rounded edges of the bottom of the can on the top. Word has it that there's an air pocket purposefully introduced to the bottom of the can, which will help push the log of sauce out when you open it from the top. It did slide out easily, after running a butter knife around the edges. Still, I found the texture to be a bit too firm and gritty. I could feel the residual particles of the cranberry's fibrous skin on my tongue, and it was a bit too thick to be spreadable, even after mixing. Best Yet's left much to be desired.

In second-to-last place is the other can of Best Yet, this time the Whole Berry version. Like its jellied relative, this can had the same bland, sad flavor. It was utterly devoid of the joys of a good cranberry sauce, being neither tart, sweet, nor astringent. I believe that this kind of cranberry sauce is why many people say they don't enjoy the side. Were this the only version of cranberry sauce I had ever had the luck of trying, I would be convinced that the dish was nothing more than a gelatinous heap of red corn syrup, and relegate my turkey to gravy, only, from here on out.

Putting it ahead of the jellied version, though, were a few whole berries. They came in short supply, but the occasional crunch of a whole cranberry did something to make this can at least marginally better than the jellied version. Thankfully, there are much brighter, better, cheerier versions of store-bought cranberry sauces available, soon to be discussed further down this list. This can cost around $2.19 and has 23 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup.

There wasn't much separating the Essential Everyday Jellied Cranberry Sauce from Best Yet. It was only slightly tart, hardly astringent, and overall quite bland. But, it was one of the cheapest canned cranberry sauces available, costing around $1.50. That may be a minuscule difference from the price of Best Yet, but if you're choosing between two sub-par sauces you may as well save your $0.70.

The ingredients here were the same as the aforementioned versions: cranberries, high fructose corn syrup, filtered water, corn syrup, and citric acid, with 21 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup of sauce. Given that my criteria going into this tasting was to find the store bought cranberry sauce that most closely resembled a homemade version, I shouldn't have been surprised that these double corn-syrup versions weren't passing the taste test — it's simply not an ingredient that home cooks are whipping out at the holidays.

Ocean Spray's Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce was a big step up from the bottom three ranked cans. There was a distinct brightness to it and a bit of tongue-drying astringency that let me know I was eating real cranberries. Its ingredients were similar, but not quite the same: cranberries, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, and water. It has 19 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup and cost around $2.79.

I first plopped it out of the can, sliced it, and then macerated it with my spoon to see how many whole berries I could find. In this whole berry sauce, there were many bits of cranberry skin and seeds, but not as many actual berries as I would have liked. The beauty of a non-jellied cranberry sauce is the textural complexity. A crunchy cranberry can change the whole experience, and the few berries in the Ocean Spray can were mushy more than crunchy.

While it may seem counterintuitive to buy a can of cranberry sauce and then add ingredients to it, I do think Ocean Spray would benefit greatly from some baking spices. Ingredients like orange zest, cinnamon, cloves, or even spicy peppers are the flavors that separate homemade cranberry sauce from store-bought, and that bit of heat can be just the thing to balance out its tartness.

I generally prefer whole berry cranberry sauces to jellied versions, but there are some exceptions to that rule. Ocean Spray is one of them. The jellied version was tart enough to make my jaw muscles tighten. It was juicy, sweet, and the acidity and astringency of the cranberries hit my mouth in waves, just like a cranberry sauce should.

The texture of the Ocean Spray Jellied Cranberry Sauce was quite firm; it held its can-like shape almost too well, like a very thick Jell-O (a trait that I was not particularly fond of). Personally, I have never found the sliced presentation of cranberry sauce to be very appetizing. If you can relate, you may consider adding some chopped nuts into the equation, a simple way to add texture to a store-bought cranberry sauce.

There are 20 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup in this can and, inexplicably, the Ocean Spray Jellied Cranberry Sauce only cost about $1.50. While I didn't love the texture, it's not a bad deal at all for the price.

Whole Foods Market Organic Jellied Cranberry Sauce marks the point in this ranking where we move beyond the corn-syrup-laden cranberry sauces into the realm of brands that use some form of sugar, rather than syrup, as a sweetener. There was a clear distinction for me in both texture and flavor when comparing these two ends of the spectrum. The brands that used sugar simply tasted and appeared more like a homemade cranberry sauce, and Whole Foods was no exception.

The texture of this sauce was noticeably less gelatinous. It still plopped out of the can in one piece, but breaking it apart was easier, and it had a softer, more pleasant, more natural mouthfeel. It cost about $2.89 and has 21 grams of added sugar in ¼ cup.

On the flavor end of things, I was a bit disappointed at the lack of acidity. Its ingredients: organic cranberries, organic cane sugar, filtered water, and lemon juice concentrate, seemed promising, but the lemon juice didn't quite shine. Still, I like it much better than the lower ranked options. It had a deep, complex sweetness reminiscent of a raw or dark sugar and a note of earthy astringency.

Wegmans Organic Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce is, similarly to Whole Foods, a huge step up from the non-organic, syrup-laden sauces. It was jammy, sweet, and slightly astringent, although this one was still lacking in the acidity department for me.

The texture was soft and spreadable but not runny. It was a small step up from Whole Foods Jellied simply for the presence of those whole-berry chunks, which added a delightful crunch. If you are conveniently located near a Wegmans, consider taking some of Duff Goldman's advice to level up a canned cranberry sauce and add a bit of orange zest into the mix. If this sauce would have had a bit more acidity, I would've enjoyed it much more.

The ingredients in Wegmans' Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce were organic cranberries, organic sugar, filtered water, and organic lemon juice concentrate. There are 20 grams of added sugar, and the can cost about $3.09.

365 Whole Foods Market Organic Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce managed to slide above the store's jellied version, as well as Wegmans, as it had ever so slightly more acidity. The subtlety of lemon juice played in the background in this can, but it was just enough to cut through the sweetness and bring the flavor to life.

I also enjoyed the whole berries in this can. The occasional piece of cranberry skin gave me something to chew on, along with a small burst of astringency. Just like with grapes, most of the tannins in cranberries are found in the skin, so chewing those unfiltered pieces added to the overall flavor and helped balance out all that sugar.

This may not have been my favorite store-bought cranberry sauce to eat right from the can, but the depth of its sweetness would make it perfect for using as a no-fuss meat glaze. A ham smothered in this jammy sauce would be absolutely divine. 365 Whole Foods Market Organic Whole Berry Cranberry Sauce cost around $2.89 and has 20 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup.

As I said previously, I am naturally biased to enjoy a whole berry cranberry sauce more than a jellied one simply on the basis of texture. But once again I found myself surprised to enjoy a jellied version of a brand much more than the whole berry.

Wegmans Organic Jellied Cranberry Sauce was noticeably tart and much more acidic than the aforementioned organic sauces, despite it having the same ingredients. Organic cranberries, organic sugar, filtered water, and organic lemon juice concentrate were still the stars of the show, but the lemon juice in this can flew to the forefront on my palate.

This can cost around $3.09 and has 24 grams of sugar per ¼ cup. Although it may be double the price of an Ocean Spray or Essential Everyday, the softer texture and jammy flavor are well worth the extra pocket change, at least in my opinion.

Cadia Organic Jellied Cranberry Sauce gave me exactly the flavor I was hoping for, and in a jellied sauce, no less. There was a burst of acidity in each bite. It was tart, astringent, and balanced with sweetness, making me long for a piece of turkey to pair it with.

Interestingly enough, this brand was canned right-side up, and once I slid a butter knife around the edges it still plopped out of the container with just as much ease as the upside-down cans. It appeared to have the most liquid come out with it compared to other jellied brands, which may have aided in the transferability. The texture was soft and each bite melted in my mouth, a huge improvement from the stiffness of lower-ranked brands.

This can cost around $4.49, so you do pay for the flavor. It contains organic liquid cane sugar, organic cranberries, water, and citric acid, and has 24 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup. While it cost a bit extra, I would happily pay the price to serve a jellied cranberry sauce that has just the right balance of bold, sour, and sweet. When compared to a homemade sauce, though, the jellied version just didn't quite cut it. There was one more sauce that not only nailed the homemade flavor, it also had the perfect consistency.

Trader Joe's: the store known to satisfy any craving with its snack varieties and keep us on our toes for seasonal specials. This cranberry sauce did not disappoint (clearly). Rather, it checked every box. The flavor was tart, but not overbearing, astringent and earthy, and sweet like jam. All-in-all, it was delightful and expertly balanced.

This was the only store-bought brand I tried that was served in a jar rather than a can. The consistency of the sauce was not the gelatinous log I had become so accustomed to. It was smooth, spreadable, and soft, and there were generous amounts of chewy cranberry skin mixed in. It nailed the combination of silky and chewy. Plus, the jar provided the convenience of easy storage, and gave a nod to the idea that this sauce could be used on more than one occasion rather than for a single holiday dinner. After all, there are many creative ways to use a cranberry sauce outside of just serving it with turkey, such as baking it into muffins or making holiday-themed cocktails.

Trader Joe's cranberry sauce is made with cranberries, sugar, water, and pectin. It has 19 grams of added sugar per ¼ cup and cost around $3.29. I can't say enough good things about the texture of this sauce. It's one I'll be eager to use in many different ways, just like you would with a cranberry jam.

To select the brands featured in this list I looked for ones that were well-known, popular, affordable, and readily available. All products were paid for by Chowhound without promotion.

To rank these store-bought cranberry sauces the main focus was on flavor. I wanted a packaged cranberry sauce that would compare to a homemade version, and that could serve as the perfect condiment to bring even the driest leftover turkey back to life. The balance between sweet, tart, and astringent was paramount.

Texture was also very important. Ideally a cranberry sauce is spreadable, as it is, after all, a sauce. Additionally, for whole berry sauces, it's important that the berries have some crunch or chew to them. Price played a small role, although mainly in separating between cans that were very similar in flavor.