Hot Dog Brands Ranked From Worst To Best

Chicago Style, Seattle Style, covered in chili, slathered in ketchup, grilled, microwaved, boiled — seems like there are a million ways to prepare a hot dog, and none of them are wrong. Of course, there are also tons of hot dog brands in stores, and deciding which brand to buy is important. To help alleviate the stress of picking the perfect frank, Food Republic sent me on a quest to choose the best hot dog out of 10 common national brands.

And just so you know: I considered trying a veggie dog for this list but my experience with plant-based hot dogs wasn't exactly positive. I'm not here to shame anyone who enjoys vegetarian dogs — even Oscar Mayer is hopping on the meatless train – but we'll save those for another list.

To secure my wiener lineup, I visited Costco, Walmart, and my local grocery store, Metro Market, a subsidiary of Roundy's Supermarkets, which is owned by Kroger. I grabbed the most standard-looking hot dog options I could find, along with a pack of Ball Park Hot Dog Buns for scale. In evaluating the franks, I quickly learned three things: The term "mechanically-separated meat" is something you simply have to stomach if you want to enjoy a wiener, resealable packages are not popular in the hot dog market, and not all franks are created equal. Read on to find out what brand is the, you know, top dog. 

As the name suggests, Jennie-O and their Turkey Franks only contain one meat: Mechanically-separated turkey, along with water, and salt. The Jennie-O Turkey Franks are trying really hard to be a good hot dog but mostly failing. They're on the thicker side of the sausages I tried, which might be good if they weren't also incredibly dense. It feels like too much meat is stuffed into the casing — although to be perfectly, well, frank ... there's not really a casing to be found. 

These hot dogs have no snap, and they're rather dry. With the exception of their physical appearance, I'm not sure I'd even call them hot dogs. A "processed turkey link" would be a more apt description for what you get and the generic, unappetizing sound of that really nails the essence of the Jennie-O Turkey Frank. If you don't eat red meat, Turkey Franks might satisfy your hot dog craving, but if you can get your fix elsewhere, I suggest doing so.

Made of mechanically separated chicken, water, corn syrup, salt, and pork, the Bar S Classic Jumbo Frank is forgettable. For one thing, it's not particularly jumbo, coming in as maybe the third-largest of our hot dogs. As with the other mechanically-separated meats, the inside is soft and smooth in texture but lacks the satisfying snap of a good sausage. The flavor isn't bad — but that's because there isn't much flavor in the first place. This feels like the kind of hot dog a parent slides in front of a notoriously picky child to get them to eat something. At best, this sausage is a vehicle for condiments; at worst, it's just plain dull. 

Bar S makes several other hot dog variants, including beef, turkey, and chicken franks. If you're in a bind and need to snag a package of Bar S, try one of those because the Classic Jumbo Franks are best left on the shelf.

This might come as a shock, but beef is the first ingredient in these dogs, followed by water, salt, sugar, dextrose, mustard, flavorings and colorings, garlic juice, sodium erythorbate, and sodium nitrite. As will become evident the further down this list you venture, beef hotdogs tend to be superior. Still, I was left wanting more from Vienna Beef's Jumbo Beef Franks. However, they do live up to their jumbo billing: These are some thick hot dogs.

But this needs to be said: They're slimy straight out of the package. Most hot dogs are packaged in water to keep them moist, but Vienna Beef Franks are coated in a gooey, white substance. I'm not sure what it is, and I can't say I noticed it on the cooked dog, but it is an unsettling beginning to what I'd hoped would be a harmonious relationship. The casing on these franks is too thick, and rather than providing that elusive snap, it's chewy. The flavor is fine, a tad salty, but I couldn't get past the fact that I spent more time chewing the casing than enjoying the meat.

At some point in human history, the length of hot dogs and the buns they call home diverged. What was once a consistent match has been reduced to a Goldilocks conundrum of hot dogs that are often too big (or too small) for their corresponding buns. But fear not, numerous brands, including Ballpark, offer franks that are just right for their carby, and sometimes toasted, companions. I purchased Ballpark Buns to accompany my hot dogs, so this was truly a perfect fit.

Mechanically-separated chicken, pork, water, corn syrup, and potassium lactate are the main ingredients in Ballpark's Bun Size Franks. (For the sake of space, I've only included the main ingredients in every entry, excluding the ingredients that make up less than 2% of anything.)

These dogs fall into the category of fine but not memorable. The inner texture is almost silky smooth, and the casing is there only to contain what's inside, not to add to or detract from the experience one way or another. Neither too salty nor too bland, if someone handed me a Ballpark Frank, I wouldn't complain, but I also wouldn't go out of my way to grab seconds.

Cards on the table, I didn't eat 10 hot dogs in one sitting. That's a lot of franks. Of course, 10 is hardly a drop in the bucket for the participants of the annual Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest. For the superhuman eaters who participate every year, their plates are piled high with Nathan's Beef Franks. With beef and water as the first two ingredients on the list, these dogs feel less processed than their "mechanically-separated" counterparts and are by far the juiciest wieners I sampled.

Despite an underwhelming snap, the flavors are solid, making Nathan's a respectable (but unexciting) hot dog. Visually, Nathan's Franks are almost identical to the Oscar Mayer Wieners, putting them on the smaller side of the hot dog hierarchy, which makes a lot of sense. Joey Chestnut put down 73 of these wieners in his record-setting 2013 performance, and that's impressive — but these are no jumbo dogs. If you're looking to add a little extra something to your Nathan's, make it Coney Island style with a healthy topping of chili, onions, and mustard.

Believe it or not, these are the only sausages on this list with the words "hot dog" actually in the name. Sugardale Hot Dogs contain mechanically-separated chicken, water, pork, corn syrup, modified food starch, and salt. These franks are on the thicker side and fit a standard bun perfectly.

I'm happy to report that I finally found a hot dog that delivered a bit of snap when I took a bite. The casing that provides the snap is thicker than Ballpark or Nathan's but without the chewiness of Vienna Beef.

Inside, the classic soft, smooth texture of mechanically-separated meat is hard to miss. For anyone taking notes, mechanically-separated meat is not ground meat. The USDA defines it as a "poultry food product produced by high-pressure machinery that separates bone from poultry skeletal muscle tissue and other edible tissue by first crushing the bone and then forcing bone and tissue through a sieve or a similar screening device." The final product is, "a blend of soft tissue with a paste-like consistency and a cake-batter form."

A staple of American cuisine for more than 100 years, the Oscar Mayer red-and-yellow branding is the first I think of when I hear the words "hot dog." Housed in an easy-open package, Oscar Mayer's Classic Wiener is the most standard-looking hot dog on the market. It's comprised of mechanically-separated chicken, mechanically-separated turkey, pork, water, and corn syrup. Not only do these wieners look like hot dogs, they embody the taste I imagine when I think of a hot dog. It's silky smooth inside, with a savoriness that calls for a bit of ketchup — or, in my case, a lot of ketchup — to bring some sweetness. I grilled my hot dogs for this test, but the Oscar Mayer wiener practically begs to be heated in a microwave and slid before a grinning eight-year-old. 

Maybe it's because my first foray into hot dogs came via Oscar Mayer, or perhaps the brand has really nailed the true essence of the frankfurter, but regardless of how it got there, the Oscar Mayer Classic Wiener is the epitome of a hot dog. However, it's not the most flavorful, juiciest, or substantial — so while I respect a classic, there are better options.

The type of meat used in a hot dog is important when it comes to creating the flavor. This may seem obvious, but there's a stark difference between an all-beef frank and a sausage comprising multiple kinds of meat. Hebrew National Beef Franks are the former and are tied for the shortest ingredient deck of anything on our list: Kosher beef and water. That's it. No additives, no extra flavorings, just meat and water (and 2% or less of other ingredients) and the taste reflects it. These franks are juicy and have a great internal texture. Once again, the casing leaves something to be desired, but it's not chewy, so that's a plus. Hebrew National Franks are long and thin, giving them a distinct look compared especially to the numerous jumbo dogs on the list.

In order for meat to be labeled Kosher, it must be butchered in accordance with Jewish dietary law. Only certain cuts of meat are allowed to be used which, in the case of cattle, come from the front half of the animal. Numerous other requirements, from what the animal eats to the slaughter and preparation of the meat, also define Kosher meats, and for Hebrew National, 100% Kosher is key. The result is a juicy hot dog that lands in my top three.

Pork is often the second or third meat listed in the ingredients, but Ambassador flipped the script by making pork the centerpiece of their wieners. Joining pork is water, beef, and dextrose in a neat and tidy ingredient deck.

The first bite is what catapulted the Ambassador Wiener up my rankings. There was a distinct snap, almost a crunch, to the hot dog's casing, and from there, the unique taste of the dog sprung forth. Across the board, the beef hot dogs I sampled were saltier than their chicken and turkey-based counterparts. The Ambassador's pork-forward frank perfectly straddles the middle ground between the two. It's juicy and flavorful with a texture inside that's smoother than beef, but more meaty than mechanically-separated poultry. It's also lighter in color than any of the others, giving it a look, taste, and feel more akin to a kielbasa than a more traditional wiener. In a world full of beef and poultry-based dogs, the Ambassador went pork first and is all the better for it.

While some pictures are worth a thousand words, this one is worth at least six: This is a huge hot dog. Made famous by Costco's food court, where you can snag one for just $1.50, this is one of two Kirkland-branded hot dogs. I chose to review the Beef Dinner Franks because they're a bit different from the other test subjects thanks to their size and notoriety. Plus, they're sold in a 14-pack, rather than the 36-count that the Kirkland Beef Hot Dogs come in — and I already have more than 70 hot dogs in my fridge; I did not need an additional 22.

Kirkland Franks are made of beef, water, dextrose, salt, spices, sodium lactate, garlic, sodium diacetate, sodium erythorbate, paprika and extractive, and sodium nitrite. Kirkland Beef Dinner Franks check all of the boxes. They're juicy, provide a lovely snap as you take a bite, and are oozing with flavor. If there's anything to complain about, it's that they're on the saltier side of beef franks, but thanks to their sheer size, it's hard to imagine eating more than two at most in a sitting.

There are so many different flavors, styles, and variations of hot dogs that anyone willing to put in the work is sure to find one that fits their preference. For this tasting, I picked up hot dogs from Walmart, Costco, and Metro Market. I took photos of the hot dogs straight out of the packaging before grilling one of each and sampling them in a random order. Taste, texture, consistency, and appearance were all factors in my rankings.

I experienced this taste test through two lenses: adult preferences and childhood memories. For the most part, I gravitated toward the beef and pork franks because they came with a richer flavor profile and a more meaty bite. However, the mechanically-separated poultry dogs came with a dollop of nostalgia that had my mind playing a little tug-of-war. 

Which made for the better hot dog? Ultimately, it's all about what you're looking for. I like to think of a true hot dog as something closer to Oscar Mayer's Classic Wiener than the Kirkland Beef Dinner Franks — but while the former is more of a traditional hot dog, the latter simply has more flavor, something that is key as an adult but was less important in my youth. Adult hot dog or kid hot dog, whatever you choose, there really is no wrong answer as long as it's what you enjoy.

Something of note: Not a single hot dog package was resealable. Consider this my plea to all hot dog manufacturers: For the love of the dog, please give us a zip-lock feature — it would make life so much easier.