I Tried 7 Grocery Store Bakery Pumpkin Pies and Only One Was Worth It

I might not be able to tell the difference between the winner and my mother’s pumpkin pie in a blind taste test.

Pumpkin pie is arguably the greatest part of the holidays (and it isn’t much of an argument). Almost universally looked forward to by folks, the pumpkin pie has quite the weight on its shoulders, as few items are so representative of a time of year. (What else can be credited with launching an entire food and drink movement?) So, whether you’re gathering together with a group of family or friends or plunking down in front of the TV for some solo holiday marathoning, that pie should be sublime, homemade or not.

If you’re picking up a pie this year (or you do every year), it can be difficult to know where to go, since these autumn-centric pastries pop up practically everywhere. Luckily, I did the dirty work for you; I purchased seven of these nationally available pies to taste them against each other in an epic battle pie-al for all the fall fame and glory.

What I realized in this grand experiment is that I’m a bit of a pumpkin pie snob. I had a hunch that this was the case, but never have I been so force-fed a certainty (pun intended). But this just means that I’m the person for this job, and even if I’ve judged some of these pies too harshly, the one that won really won.

The perfect pumpkin pie has a flaky crust, with a firm, yet malleable bottom and golden edge. It’s a bit too much to ask of a store-bought pie whose filling has been sitting in the crust for a while and has been hanging out in a sealed package for quite some time to be flaky, exactly, but it should at the very least hold together, letting you remove a slice intact. Pumpkin should be the dominant flavor in the filling, supported by the signature warming spices that define the season. The texture should be of a just-set, creamy, yet delicately textured custard. It shouldn’t be curdled or grainy; jelly nor pudding.

So, who stepped up to the plate? The answer is startling: just one.

The Best Store-Bought Bakery Pumpkin Pie, Ranked

7th Place: Kroger, 8-inch ($4.99)

A pie from the bakery department of Kroger seemed like a solid bet, but even before opening the container the odds of my satisfaction began to dwindle. The filling was almost completely pulled away from the crust the way you lean away from an overly affectionate aunt or uncle. Not a good sign.

Upon cutting into it, the crust was crumbly and moist; spongy, almost like angel food cake, with a unique ability to be gathered up, rolled, and transformed into a cake pop with minimal effort.  Not exactly what one is hoping for from pie crust. Trying to get a slice out was an exhausting experience for the crust, try as it might, couldn’t hold together to save its life. The filling smelled a little stale, though I had no doubts over its shelf life. It cut and ate more like pumpkin jelly and tasted watered down. I would be hard-pressed to say this was pie at all.

6th Place: Aldi, 8-inch ($4.69)

Aldi’s offering had a much different issue with the crust. Obviously a stamped-out commercial crust, it was so pale it looked as though it wasn’t baked. Sampling seemingly confirmed my fears, as it tasted like raw flour.

Smelling the pie had me concerned that the spices would be overwhelming and that was validated when I tasted it. It cut like a gel. Aldi’s pie lands itself ahead of Kroger simply due to the fact I was able to swallow the bite I took, but I wouldn’t be pleased to take another one.

5th Place: Target (Rubicon Bakery), 8-inch ($7.99)

Of all the pies I sampled, the adorable little bakery box housing Target’s contribution was the only one not to have pumpkin listed as the first ingredient, but rather cane sugar. Sampling the pie highlighted this fact. It was way too sweet, with the crust tasting of sugar cookie and the filling making me pucker, like spiced maple syrup solidified. Eating the crust on its own as your dessert might be preferable.

This pie sliced closely to how you would want and had a texture near what I’m used to. The bite came away cleanly as it should, and the slice held its shape. We were getting there.

4th Place: Walmart, 8-inch ($4.42)

Walmart’s Bakery pie had a standard, factory-made crust like Aldi, but at least it had some color on it. Sadly, it was soggy on the bottom. (Anyone who has seen The Great British Baking Show will know—no one likes a soggy bottom.) It was a little too firm to cut into as well.

The flavor up front was like eating the pumpkin purée straight out of the can, followed by a bombardment of cinnamon and nutmeg. The filling was the palest of the pies sampled and resembled pudding in the mouth. Imagine an over-spiced pumpkin Snack Pack spread in a crust and you’ve got this pie.

3rd Place: Trader Joe’s, 9-inch ($6.99)

Talk about high hopes! Checking out with this pie earned gleeful exclamations like, “We have pumpkin pie again??” from the staff, and that, combined with my lingering affinity for Trader Joe products (I just can’t help myself) made for quite the bar.

Getting it home I found that the crust was a lovely golden brown, the filling looked like it should (if a little light) and it cut like it should. But once I tasted it, I was not a fan. The spices were just...off. And it was a little too sweet. So sorry, Joe.

2nd Place: Whole Foods, 12-inch ($13.99)

The fact that Whole Foods was the only pie besides the winner to come from a fridge was quite encouraging. The crust was blonde like the baking time was minimal, but it was holding up. It smelled and looked like a pie you want—though the filling was cracked a bit. I didn’t mark this as a negative, even though that is typically an indication of having been baked at too high of a temperature or cooled too quickly, because it reminded me of so many pies seen throughout my youth and brought back a bit of nostalgia.

Whole Food’s pumpkin pie is very set and cuts well. The flavor is pumpkin-forward with a subtle, if not slightly too subtle, spice. I could eat a whole piece of this one.

1st Place Winner: Costco, 12-inch ($5.99)

This internet and word-of-mouth famous pie goliath is the largest, both in diameter and in weight, coming in at just shy of 4 pounds, making it the most economical choice (if not a bit daunting). While it says it's a 12-inch pie, it looks more like it's at least 16 inches. From crust to filling, it also looks the most like a homemade pumpkin pie.

Upon first taste, I was blown away—I thought for a second that I might not be able to tell the difference between this and my (or my mother’s) pumpkin pie in a blind taste test (I could, but it would be super close). It had the perfect texture as you cut into it and the perfect mouthfeel. The crust held up on the bottom, providing a secure place for the filling to rest, rather than a soggy pile of crumbs holding on with thoughts and prayers. The color of the filling was perfect; not too pale and not too dark. Pumpkin was the key flavor, and the spices were just right.

It turns out, the folks at Costco are using only Dickinson pumpkins. And it’s this pumpkin’s tender texture and creamy, sweet, squash-like flavor that makes it so perfect for pie. It’s that very pumpkin that fills 95% of the world’s canned pumpkin—that’s right, the bright orange can of Libby’s relies exclusively on this variety. Cosco won’t reveal its source of ingredients, but I’d guess that’s what they use. Who's to say if any of the others on this list use that pumpkin or not, it’s a huge leg up for Costco regardless.

In the decision for best store-bought bakery pumpkin pie, it isn’t even a contest. This was the only pie of the seven that I cut myself a full slice of eagerly. If I don’t have the time to make my own, or we run into a shelf shortage again and cans of Libby are nowhere to be found, I’m buying one of these and going about my merry way.

*Note: The Costco pie holds up even after freezing. The texture was just as good as freshly bought and the crust didn’t become a sloppy mess. It’s an unbelievable win. I’m convinced our friends at Costco are wizards.

Read the original article on All Recipes.