15 Pop-Tarts Flavors, Ranked Worst To Best

I have been on a breakfast food kick recently — which seems weird to say, as I'm someone who's seemingly always on a breakfast food kick. While I love nothing more than making a well-thought-out batch of French toast or a savory spread of bagels, eggs, and hash, I also can appreciate the convenience that ready-made breakfast items can offer. And when it comes to convenience, seemingly no brand can outrank Pop-Tarts. 

These breakfast pastries (if you can even call them that) come two to a pack — a move initially made to cut down on packaging costs. I have fond memories of splitting packs of these as a kid with my parents and excitedly peering into the grocery bag to see what flavor my parents picked up from the store that week. Believe it or not, Pop-Tarts, as of the date of publication, come in 24 flavors — not including its Bites lineup. As a kid, I would have been lucky to have tried three Pop-Tarts products total, which is why I set out to sample all of the flavors that I could find and rank them from worst to best.

Will the beloved brown sugar cinnamon beat out the strawberry milkshake newcomer? In order to decide, I sampled each of these pastries, both warmed up in the toaster and cold, to see which had the best flavor and more accurately represented the flavor it was trying to depict on the package.

Banana is a really hard flavor to imitate in anything that's not an actual banana — which is ultimately why I think the frosted banana bread Pop-Tarts fared so poorly. The flavor reminds me of one of those pre-sliced banana bread pieces I'd eat in an elementary school cafeteria. It's not like the homemade stuff, as it has a strong synthetic profile that overrides anything good about it. Based on the smell alone, you can tell that no real bananas were used in the making of this product. 

Pop-Tarts tried to balance things out with the spice blend here, but I don't think it stood a chance in the presence of the banana flavor. I've eaten more awful things in my life, sure, but the lack of decent banana flavor in this breakfast pastry makes it one that I wouldn't want to add to my cart ever again. This flavor seemed doomed from the start and couldn't do enough to save itself from the bottom spot on this list. 

In no world where I ever willingly order a strawberry milkshake at a diner. And if I'm speaking honestly, the strawberry milkshake Pop-Tart turned me off to the idea of anything strawberry milkshake-flavored even more than I thought possible. The filling not only looks like Pepto Bismol, but it tastes like it, too. The authentic strawberry (or as close as you can get in a shelf-stable breakfast pastry) is overshadowed entirely by a wave of sweet, marshmallow-like flavor. The aftertaste lingers like a strawberry and cream candy, or again, like the shot of Pepto Bismol your mom forced you to take when you complained that you had a tummy ache. 

While the sprinkles atop this pastry (but wait, are there supposed to be sprinkles on a strawberry milkshake?) are more well-distributed than some of the other flavors I sampled, I can't say that I would recommend anyone — even the tiny, pink-loving kid that obsesses about rainbows and unicorns and everything sweet — chow down on this Pop-Tart for breakfast (or any time of day, really). While its flavor was less synthetic than the banana bread toaster pastries, its overwhelming flavor made it a shoo-in for a bottom spot. 

The hot fudge sundae Pop-Tart was the first one I sampled out of the bunch. I have distinct memories of eating this flavor when I was a kid — and I hate to say it, but it just doesn't hit the same spot anymore. Dripping and molten hot fudge atop a cold, sweet vanilla ice cream is hard to imitate — and I think this one fell short of that expectation on all levels. The hot fudge flavor was minimal; it only came through as stale chocolate in the pastry. The middle was filled with an indiscernible "vanilla" cream — you could have told me it was marshmallow or birthday cake and I would have believed it. 

While I'm glad that this Pop-Tart wasn't as sweet as it could have been, I'm still unimpressed by its flavor all around. Warming it up in the toaster didn't do anything, either. 

Not many of the other Pop-Tarts I sampled gave off a particularly notable odor. But the cookies and créme flavor made me feel like I had been sprayed by a fire hydrant with Oreo-adjacent flavors. I say Oreo-adjacent here because the odor and the taste of these Pop-Tarts are about as generic, knock-off product as you can get. It lacks that delectable creamy vanilla filling of an Oreo cookie, along with the bright chocolate notes that make the "real thing" such a pleasure to eat. The chocolate pastry just tastes kind of like stale chocolate, rather than being super inviting and flavorful. 

By this point, it's clear to say that Pop-Tarts struggles with mastering a quality vanilla filling that's fit to a specific flavor. This one tastes just like the filling inside of the hot fudge sundae Pop-Tart, which was a bit of a let-down. Maybe I also got unlucky, but it looks like the Pop-Tarts machine was running a little low on the chocolate cookie sprinkle on the package I sampled. 

The Pop-Tarts factory really needs to check its machines, because this one looks positively awful. It's like Grimace tried to eat a Pop-Tart and ended up splattering purple icing everywhere but where it should have been. Looks aside, these frosted wild berry Pop-Tarts tasted exactly as I expected — like the company just tossed the leftovers of all the berry fillings, including strawberry, raspberry, blueberry, and possibly blackberry, into a vat with no respect to ratios to proportions. As a result, it's not easy to decipher what kinds of berries are actually supposed to be represented here. It was a well-played move on Pop-Tart's part, as I can't fault the brand for a flavor that's supposed to be a bit "wild."

By muddling these berries, Pop-Tarts lost out on that delectable, tangy undertone that made the individual fruit flavors absolutely delicious. So, it wasn't as satisfying as my top-ranking fruit-flavored Pop-Tarts — which is reflected in its poor, but not bottom-tier, ranking. 

If anything, this placement is going to get me the most amount of hate mail. But, the s'mores Pop-Tarts just aren't that good, nor do they really reflect the complexity of a real, straight-from-the-campfire treat. The first nail in the coffin? The fact that the Pop-Tarts machine ran out of ink (I mean, frosting) as it was making this package. The frosting would have helped really balance out the chocolate and marshmallow-ish filling and sold me a bit more on this.  

The filling here is also an issue. Though the alternating white frosting does taste like marshmallow creme, the other dark color does not taste like quality chocolate. I think Pop-Tarts tried to infuse some graham cracker-esque flavoring into it rather than trying to make the surrounding pastry taste like graham cracker. The result is a distinct bitterness that makes the pastry feel even more dry and heavy. Granted, a 10-year-old kid isn't going to critique the nuances of the chocolate, but folks with a more refined palate might. This Pop-Tart has potential but needs direction. 

Frosted strawberry is one of the OGs of the Pop-Tarts world. It's a classic flavor, it's hard to hate, and it's better suited for enjoying at 7 a.m. than a hot fudge sundae or confetti cupcake flavor. But, the strawberry flavor didn't really wow me, especially compared to some of the other, more flavorful berry offerings from the brand. 

When I first opened the thin tin package, I couldn't detect any noticeable or super punchy aromas — which is odd because every single one of the other berry flavors (and the cherry) could make that happen. I think that the filling tasted more like raspberry than strawberry, too — which was a little disappointing. The best way I could describe its flavor was "vague." I think if you told a kid that it was strawberry, it could certainly pass. But I don't think you could fool someone who knows what strawberry tastes like into thinking that this one is indeed strawberry. 

Remember when I said the Pop-Tarts machine was uncalibrated when it was pumping out the cookies and créme variety? Well, then I guess that the machine is broke-broke — because it forgot to add the little sprinkles onto my frosted confetti cupcake Pop-Tarts, too! Seriously, there were only three sprinkles on the entire pastry, which is a far cry from the beautiful sprinkle spectacle that's depicted on the label. 

Otherwise, these pastries were mediocre — on a really good day. When you get a bite of the center frosting and the dry, crumbly pastry, it tastes exactly like one of those polarizing Lofthouse cookies, aftertaste and all. I personally don't think this is a bad thing, as I really enjoy Lofthouse cookies and those plasticky cupcakes from the grocery store. Would this be my pick of the litter to eat at 7 a.m.? Heck no, but it would make an indulgent snack from time to time.

When I asked my partner what he thought the best Pop-Tarts flavor was, in anticipation for this review, his answer said it all: "Brown sugar cinnamon — obviously!" But, I honestly was really unimpressed by this flavor. When you first pull it out of the package, it doesn't have anything fun going on. It just has a dull, nude-colored coating. Its aroma is slightly cinnamon-y, but it's more like the sickeningly sweet odor of a Cinnabon shop than fresh, high-quality cinnamon. Yeah, I get it's a pre-packaged, processed breakfast pastry, but there could have been at least some effort in really bringing out those spicy cinnamon notes. 

Oddly enough, I found this Pop-Tart to be more sickeningly sweet than the other flavors — including the strawberry milkshake variety. But, there wasn't anything particularly wrong with it besides its overwhelming sweetness. It delivered on both the "brown sugar" and the "cinnamon" (again, not high-quality cinnamon) promise, so I can't fault it for that. It embodies the word "meh," and it's not a flavor that I would keep on hand for snacking purposes. 

While the hot fudge sundae Pop-Tart was absolutely unlike what I remembered, this frosted cherry was just like the Pop-Tart flavor I remembered from my childhood. The base of the Pop-Tart is the classic vanilla pastry, surrounded by a fruity filling. The pink-hued frosting looks like it just walked out of a Crumbl shop, while the little red sugar sprinkles come in with a bit of crunch. It's a visually appealing Pop-Tart, but my main issue with this one was its flavor — not its appearance.

On the plus side, this Pop-Tart didn't scream "artificial cherry." It had a slight bit of tartness on the finish that made me appreciate the flavor a little bit more and move it up in my ranking accordingly. But, I could have confused it with a raspberry or strawberry filling without a second thought. However, I did enjoy eating this Pop-Tart, as it had a more subdued and mature flavor than some of the other sugar-ridden confections I sampled from this brand. 

Snickerdoodles are one of my favorite cookies, so it seemed a bit of a stretch to think that Pop-Tarts could imitate the slight sourness from the cream of tartar and the complex medley of spices in a humble toaster pastry. But it did, in fact, succeed — barely. 

There isn't any frosting on these Pop-Tarts, but there is a little sprinkle of brown sugar. The mouthfeel on these was a bit dry, but otherwise uneventful. Meanwhile, the filling itself was similar to the one inside of the brown sugar cinnamon Pop-Tarts, but it had a slightly tangy twist that made it slightly snickerdoodle-like. I would have liked a little more fresh spice and a little kick of the cream of tartar, though. 

I think these snickerdoodle Pop-Tarts have potential, but are in desperate need of a frosting to make the mouthfeel a little less dry. It's a valiant effort at attempting to recreate the classic cookie, though. 

You deserve an award if you can tell the raspberry and the strawberry Pop-Tarts apart based on looks alone, because I sure couldn't have. Though, I found that the raspberry variety had a little more of an obvious flavor than the strawberry. When I opened the package, I was met with the blinding smell of artificial raspberry. It was potent and swirled around my nostrils, and didn't cease when I took a bite. 

This Pop-Tart clearly says, "I am raspberry — hear me roar," more than the strawberry or the cherry flavor did for their respective flavors. It's not a "fresh" raspberry essence, per se, but it's also not unpleasant enough to deter me from eating it. Moreover, I think that the ample amount of frosting on this breakfast pastry helped save it from the drying mouthfeel that is often associated with fruit-flavored pastries. I was impressed by its slight acidity and overall attempt at replicating fresh raspberries, though it wasn't the best flavor on my list. 

Every time I say, "Wow, Pop-Tarts could never do that!" when it comes to a flavor, it seemingly always blasts me out of the water. This one was surprisingly no different. A Boston cream pie is so, so complex — from the pastry cream to the delicate sponge and the chocolate ganache. But like the snickerdoodle flavor I sampled, Pop-Tarts really got close to the flavor it was trying to get at. 

The chocolate tastes a little dry, which isn't unheard of with a chocolate ganache. On any other occasion, I would count this against the flavor, but here, it was kind of welcoming — especially when I warmed it up in the toaster. The cream was also different than the other vanilla-adjacent flavors I sampled; it had a slight yellow hue with the creaminess of a pastry cream (granted, not a great pastry cream). The mouthfeel was also richer than that of the snickerdoodle Pop-Tart, which earned it some brownie (err ... cake) points in my book. 

It shouldn't come as a surprise that the chocolate fudge filling inside of this Pop-Tart was what the hot fudge sundae flavor was craving and was what the chocolate inside of the s'mores Pop-Tart deserved. It takes a step beyond just being "chocolate" — the fudge filling is rich, decadent, and has that tacky, back-of-the-mouth feel that a proper fudge sauce should have. The smell of this Pop-Tart was also excellent — it was enticingly sweet and brimming with chocolate notes. The chocolate in this Pop-Tart tasted a little more authentic than the other chocolate-based Pop-Tarts I sampled. 

I think this frosted chocolate fudge Pop-Tart is the definition of a "sleeper hit." The flavor is bold and not overwhelmingly sweet, and I can appreciate that its overall profile is a bit more even-keeled than the other dessert-like Pop-Tarts. I could see myself using this Pop-Tart as a base for a chocolatey ice cream sandwich, but I would still not want to eat it for breakfast.

Pop-Tarts struggled to make the flavors of its cherry, raspberry, and strawberry breakfast pastries distinguishable from one another. But, it went really hard with these blueberry Pop-Tarts; this flavor both smells and tastes exactly like a sweetened blueberry jam. Like the raspberry and cherry pastries, there was a little bit of a tangy flavor that grounded the blueberry undertones in reality, rather than making it taste too much like synthetic, fake fruit. I also think that the sweet frosted coating actually did something for these pastries, as it made the flavor of the blueberries taste slightly sweeter. Plus, it added a delectable shattering crunch to every bite.

I didn't expect that blueberry would be a flavor that scored as high as it did, as I tend not to gravitate towards fruit-flavored anything. But, Pop-Tarts was able to create an approachable flavor that could be eaten for breakfast, a snack, or as a dessert, thus earning blueberry the title of "top pastry." 

In order to rank these Pop-Tarts flavors, I sampled each warmed up in the toaster oven (for about 30 seconds) as well as at room temperature. For the frosted flavors, I made sure to bite on both the edge with the frosting, as well as the dry "pastry" part, to get a better feel of the entire pastry's consistency. 

The Pop-Tarts that ranked highly on this list had a balanced flavor that could be appreciated by all eaters — meaning both kids and adults alike. Although some flavors are "designed" to be sweeter than others (like the frosted confetti cupcake and the hot fudge sundae), the cloyingness should be dialed back enough so that you could theoretically eat them for breakfast (as the company intends). While the appearance of the pastry was less important than the flavor, I also made a note of the amount of frosting on the Pop-Tart if it impacted the mouthfeel, consistency, or other attributes of the pastry. Price and nutrition were not considered.