12 Popular Mayonnaise Brands, Ranked

It's the little things in life that matter. Conversely, though less often said, the little things in life can also throw a real wrench in the works if they go wrong. Mayonnaise itself may be a little thing; bad mayonnaise is anything but. It can ruin a whole sandwich, and if you were really looking forward to that sandwich it can ruin a whole day. Who needs their day ruined by mayonnaise? No one, that's who, which is why we took it upon ourselves to make sure that never happens to you again.

Now, when we say "bad mayonnaise," we're not talking about the kind you left in the sun for six hours. Because ... don't do that, even if the food safety rumors about mayo are mostly untrue. Rather, we mean mayonnaise that isn't tasty, for which there's pretty much no excuse. Depending on what you consider to be a true representation of the condiment, mayo was either invented back in Ancient Egypt, in Europe in the 1700s, or anytime in between that humans combined eggs and oil into a sauce. Whatever the case, it's easy to make, and it's as American as apple pie.

Mayonnaise is forgiving, too. You can make it yourself with bacon fat, add it to meat marinades for a flavor boost, or simply put it on a sandwich — ideally without ruining your day. This brings us to the question of which mayonnaise you should put on said sandwich, or anything else. To determine this, my family and I sat down to try 12 of the most common flavors and bring you an ultimate ranking.

There are some things from which I may never recover: the disappearance of my cat when my daughter was a newborn; the discovery that "Old Blue Eyes" was the nickname of Frank Sinatra (not the first monkey in space); and the tasting of this mayonnaise. You cannot imagine how bad it was. There were explanations of dismay. There was light gagging. There was a fundamental disbelief that this product ever made it to market.

To be fair to Primal Kitchen Mayo made with Avocado Oil, it was only $9.39 for the giant 32-ounce jar we got at Costco, which is a pretty good deal considering it was made with cage-free eggs. Many people don't take note of this, but if you do, you can find it on the label. Although now that we've experienced it firsthand, I realize that perhaps it's just reasonably priced because no one would eat it otherwise.

We should also note that we were prejudiced against Primal Kitchen from the first, because you shouldn't make mayo with avocado oil. You just shouldn't, and it's because the flavor is not at all neutral. But if, for some reason, you cannot eat whatever is in traditional mayonnaise, then sure, try this. Just don't say we didn't warn you, because lo, you have most assuredly been warned.

Although there was some natural variation in opinion among the three people who did this taste test — one husband, one small boy (11 years old), and myself — we were pretty well in agreement about Blue Plate Real Mayonnaise. It only cost $4.29 for a 30-ounce jar, so we didn't expect all that much from it, but it was truly nasty. The small boy thought it was too salty, and nobody liked how it came separated. One might assume this to be a natural product of buying mayonnaise off Amazon (we really do live in the future), but plenty of other Amazon-delivered products were totally smooth, so there's no excuse.

All complaints aside, it wasn't as nasty as we thought. I guess once you've tasted Primal Kitchen, you're just glad to be eating anything else. Mostly it was just kind of meh, like many of the other middling options on this list. The husband perhaps put it best: "There's not a lot of variation in how mayonnaise hits the mouth. It's either 'all right' or 'NO!'" This one was all right.

I have come to trust the 365 brand, but this product was an exception. Granted, the 365 by Whole Foods Market Mayonnaise was quite reasonably priced at $6.99 for 32 ounces (and that's with cage-free eggs). And while it wasn't great, and had an ever-so-slight hint of rancidity, it was smooth and creamy, with the right blend of spreadable and structurally sound.

The main disappointment here is that it wasn't as good as we expected. Like I said, we've come to trust the 365 brand for everything from jams to pickles to pasta, and this was pretty middle-of-the-road. Honestly, any time you're getting beat out by Kraft and Miracle Whip, are you really trying hard enough? Our vote is no, so consider this an open letter to Whole Foods: You really need to step up your mayonnaise game. I'm not horrified, but nor am I pleased that I now have to use up this jar of sub-par mayonnaise.

Kraft Real Mayo Creamy & Smooth Mayonnaise was a nice surprise. Not because it was so great — it assuredly was not, as it is solidly in the bottom half of our ranked mayos — but because it was so not terrible. With the exception of their macaroni and cheese (all hail Kraft macaroni and cheese), I avoid their products entirely, but this mayo has made inroads into my prejudice. It was ... pretty good.

They use cage-free eggs, for one thing. One doesn't usually associate this with Kraft, which is often portrayed as a low-rent option by more gourmet mayonnaise brands; guess I bought that marketing campaign hook, line, and sinker, eh? For another, it was very smooth, creamy, and consistent, and would make an excellent addition in a dip, dressing, or egg salad. Plus, it was only $4.67 for a 30-ounce jar, though this (as with all prices on the list) may be different in your area.

Now here was an extra-nice surprise. For only $5.18 for 30 ounces, I thought the Miracle Whip Mayo-Like Dressing delivered much more than a consumer could reasonably expect. Don't let the distressing title put you off; it really was mayo-like! But it also had a certain indefinable tang, which I loved. To be fair, that's exactly what the Hubs did not like about it, but I've made a practice of not really caring what he thinks, and the small boy was on my side. He thought it had a good texture and a neutral flavor, if maybe a little salty. And at the end of the day, isn't that what we all want out of a mayonnaise?

I know this dressing is in the bottom half of our ranking, but this is mostly because the husband did get a vote, and that vote pulled it down. Me personally, this is the one I would choose, out of all the choices on this list, for any application that required really tasting it: For instance, dipping artichokes or putting it on a sandwich. Bring on the tang.

If any brand strives to deliver consistency, it is Trader Joe's. Seriously, it's an entire chain with its own brand of everything, and it does pretty well with that. There are exceptions, of course, like the Fiery Chicken Vindaloo, a nightmare from which we'll never escape, as we discovered when we ranked TJ's Indian food. The mayo was okay, though it wasn't great, sitting right in the middle of good and not-as-good, requiring some serious head-scratching when it came time to place it in the ranking.

I'll say this: I definitely thought I'd like TJ's mayonnaise better than this. But I'll also say: If you're at Trader Joe's and wondering if the mayo is worth popping in your cart, you can definitely go for it. Price alone is in its favor. At my neighborhood store, the Trader Joe's mayo was $3.79, though at only 16 ounces, that's half the size of many other options. Still, it's creamy, smooth, a bit salty, and just fine for making salads and sandwiches. While you can also get Trader Joe's Organic Mayonnaise on Amazon, it inexplicably costs $13.90, so you're better off finding a brick-and-mortar location or choosing another brand on this list.

The Ojai Cook makes a variety of sauces, mayos, and aioli-type things, many of which my local grocery store carries. However, I had never tried their mayonnaise, and I regretted not trying it sooner because I really did like it. The small boy found it too salty, but the husband and I were pleasantly surprised by its creamy consistency, eggy and umami flavor, and smooth mouthfeel. At $7.49 for only 16 ounces, it's a little steep, but it's still worth it.

On a final note, this one was pretty neck-and-neck with Trader Joe's, and we had a hard time deciding between the two. They were both neutral enough that I could imagine doing anything with it, from baking to making dips to throwing it in potato salad. However, it was a bit better in quality. Ultimately, I ranked this one higher because I liked the flavor slightly more and I have the power to do that. It's not much, but in this world, it's something.

Having never tasted Duke's mayonnaise in my life, I had no idea what to expect and was more than skeptical. There were a couple reasons for this, one being the Super Bowl LIX Duke's mayonnaise taste test, of which I was glad not to be a part (there was gagging involved). Two, I somehow conflated Duke's mayonnaise with Marmaduke, the dog of comic fame, way back in my childhood, and I've never been able to separate them, so I still consider it a mayo worthy of dogs. However, it was time to change things, especially as it's considered the best mayonnaise brand by many chefs (Although Julia Child apparently preferred Hellmann's.)

We got the Duke's Real Mayonnaise Squeeze Bottle, which was $4.99 for 18 ounces. While we couldn't see anything great about it, it was inoffensive and creamy, the best of the plain Jane options. Perhaps that's why chefs love it: It's easy to combine with other flavors and not worry about the mayo taste coming forward. And I will have ample opportunity to test this theory in the coming months because I now have 12 jars of mayonnaise to use up. (It may be my greatest challenge yet, and I had two natural childbirths.)

Despite its rock-bottom price of $2.96 for an 18-ounce bottle, which is never a good portent, Amazon's native brand, Happy Belly Real Mayonnaise, came refrigerated, which somewhat comforted me. Plus, they used the word "real" in it, which originally also comforted me, though my research shows "real" to be a completely unregulated, and therefore a completely meaningless, term.

As it turns out, my skepticism was completely unjustified. You could have knocked me over with a feather when we all liked this brand. Sure, it tasted like your basic emulsified fat with a little bit of salt, and it didn't have the tang and deep flavor that some of the other options did. However, the husband and small boy both loved it, and I do think it would make for a good sandwich because of its super creamy consistency. The Husband described it as having the perfect balance of flavors, and while I wouldn't go that far, you don't have to steer clear of this like I would have.

First and foremost, how adorable is that bottle? How adorable is that name? Honestly, it had me at "kewpie" because for some reason, my mother loves this word and loves to talk about kewpie curls, probably because she once carried a torch for Clark Kent, who famously sported one in the old days ... but I digress. The real point here is that Kewpie Squeeze Tube Mayonnaise is absolutely worth the $5.99 (for 12 ounces) it costs.

More specifically, we all liked its deep umami flavor, which would go well with deli meats or roasted veggies on a sandwich. I can absolutely see it being good in egg salad or even for dipping spring artichoke leaves. As the husband said, "There's something indefinable in there. It maintains the traditional rich and creamy consistency that I like, with an extra flavor that's hard to pin down but is good." It is this extra flavor that gave it a bit of character and bumped it up over perfectly serviceable brands such as The Ojai Cook and Duke's. Definitely give this one a try.

I heartily recommend you try the Best Foods Real Mayonnaise Mayo Jar ... a puzzling name meant to distinguish it from the fake mayonnaise mayo jar, I guess? However, in another way, its name was right on the money, because Best Foods really is one of the best. What can I say? It's a classic for a reason. The husband described it as the "epitome of mayonnaise," and I don't disagree. While the small boy claimed it had a faintly bitter aftertaste, I think that's something we can all deal with for $5.98 for 30 ounces, especially since it's got such a nice, rich flavor that would complement everything from potato salad to artichoke dip.

Brief sidebar: We could not find Hellmann's mayonnaise for a decent price, but since it is made by the same company that manufactures Best Foods — Unilever — you can probably draw similar conclusions from this one. Having never tasted it, though, we can't say that for sure.

And finally, here we are: the hallowed No. 1 spot. Allow me to introduce you to Wild Harvest, the most mayonnaise-y of all the mayonnaises. Truly, this was a perfect product. It was creamy. It was smooth. It was salty, but not too salty. It was rich and umami, but not overly so. It had the slightest bit of sweetness to counter all the other flavors going on, resulting in a perfectly balanced condiment that I would put on everything from burgers to sandwiches to artichokes and more.

We already had Wild Harvest on hand, and I wasn't able to find it on Amazon, so I don't know exactly how much it cost. My online searches turned up results in the $7.99 range for a 16-ounce jar, which makes sense, since it's organic. I suppose you might say we're biased, as this was the one we already had in our fridge, but it was also two months old and we still liked it best, so make of that what you will. (Don't worry, I won't serve it to guests.) In my honest opinion, if you're going to buy one mayonnaise product for the rest of your life, make it Wild Harvest.

Deciding how to sample 12 kinds of mayonnaise is not what you'd call intuitive. Originally, I suggested to my editor that we mix the mayonnaise into egg salad, but he pointed out that we wouldn't be able to discern the mayo itself that way. So we decided that, in the immortal words of Gandalf the White, courage was our best defense, and we needed to taste the mayo straight up.

However, as mayonnaise is never (ever) meant to be eaten off a spoon, we felt it necessary to come up with an additional test that treated it more like a condiment. In pairing it with another food, we felt we could determine more accurately whether its salt, oil, and egg ratios were right. Thus, we elected to dip potato chips in each sample of mayo. This proved to be a good system, giving us an idea of how effective each brand would be in different foods. After trying each one, we discussed its merits and made notes, then worked as a committee to choose a final ranking. We considered factoring in price, but the quality of ingredients ranges so much that we felt flavor was a better representation of what you'd want to buy.