10 Frozen Lasagna Brands Ranked

Lasagna is for lovers — y'know, meat lovers, cheese lovers, noodle lovers, and veggie lovers. But what no lasagna fan ever wants is a sorry excuse for the world's greatest dish. Take the stress out of guessing, and meet the store-bought frozen lasagnas to add to your cart.

One of the oldest pasta dishes known to man (if only the ancient Romans had thought of mac and cheese), lasagna's earliest iterations go back to Italy in 63 B.C. But the version we know best — the one with layers of pasta, cheese, and meat sauce — first appeared in 19th century Bologna, Italy. (That also seems to be the same era that some of these lasagna brands were stocked in the freezer section, but I'm not naming names. Yet.) Once immigrants from Italy showed North America just how freakin' delicious Parmigiano-Reggiano could be, lasagna landed in someone's casserole dish and America never looked back.

We celebrate National Lasagna Day annually on July 29th, but with a stellar bake that's ready to eat in 40 minutes or less, every day can be Lasagna Day. From Amy's to Rao's, Marie Callender's, Trader Joe's, and more, I ranked 10 frozen lasagna brands from worst to first so you can get your chef's kiss on without freezing your noodles off in the frozen section.

If you're taking a family dinner selfie, make sure this lasagna's not in it. On-Cor Lasagna with Meat Sauce serves us an unfortunate ugly duckling with naked, cheeseless, and sauceless noodles perched along the edges and quickly become fossilized in the oven's desert heat.

Speaking of the edges, most of the contents of this lasagna was oddly situated on one side of the baking tray, as if someone had cut the cheese on the other side of the dish. Fingers crossed that you don't bite into a sharp noodle edge (which I'm fairly sure could be used as a shiv in the right setting). Flavor wise, there is little to talk about. Even molten mozzarella cheese tastes like nothing. Despite the curdled cottage cheese seemingly trying to surface under a semi-transparent top layer (an appetizing feature of spring rolls — not lasagna), the texture is creamy. Still, On-Cor suffers from one of the worst offenses to lasagna: doughy, overcooked noodles which feel like they rolled through a children's toy pasta machine and were then brutally boiled to whatever temperature lands right between al dente and wet bread. Would I eat this after sampling one too many glasses of pinot? Yes. Would I tell anyone about it? No.

Amy's Vegetable Lasagna features non-GMO, organic, kosher, ingredients you can feel good about eating. But without much in the way of flavor, I'm actively trying not to think about the "Seinfeld" bit where Elaine refers to her boring airplane seat partner as "Vegetable Lasagna." Why do veggies and semi-decent seasoning have to be two separate things?

If you're wondering about the ragtag looks of the post-bake lasagna (see: the photo above), I somehow skipped over the "remove the overwrap" instructions and left the plastic cover free to warp the tray by essentially shrink-wrapping its sides. Silver lining though: My veggie lasagna didn't come out fully laminated and was still good enough to taste. The noodles sit orderly and neatly layered under the messier, saucier topping, (a disorganized mess which I assume has to do with the plastic wrap that shouldn't have been on it). The pasta also feels tender, alternating turns with a filling that's appropriately vegetal and cheesy. A few bites into it, however, I realized I was searching for seasoning — or a sprinkle of salt. Maybe adding a little something fun to this lasagna — like a bright herb, or peppery cheese — could make this one stand out and score higher on this list. With a little more personality, the veggie-loving crowd might come out for Amy's purely out of pleasure.

Grand Supreme champion of the doesn't-look-like-the-picture pageant, the Realgood Foods Co. Lasagna Bowl is designed for the low-carb pasta lover. But be warned: This lasagna has no noodles in it. If you think you're looking at a tortilla-shaped, pasta-like disc, you are not. (I spent the two-minute post-bake resting period contemplating what the heck food I was about to eat.)

The point of Realgood's spin on the trad dish is the higher 25 grams of protein and lower 4 grams of net carbs per bowl. I also noticed a familiar aroma — like the pizza boats we used to get at my high school cafeteria (with the same miniature mozzarella squares dotting the top like a starry night sky). My brain jiu jitsu'd opposing dimensions as I grabbed a knife and fork (this was not a single-utensil operation) and cut into the tortilla-looking thing. Instead of a circle-noodle, what I found was a deli-thin slice of chicken which acts like a pasta noodle layer (but resists the presence of any moisture). If I were aiming to cut carbs, I might keep this on rotation for a healthy lasagna alternative in a time of need. But still, while no single layer is an abject terror, each ingredient could have been seasoned to crank up the lifeless flavor. I acknowledge the purpose of the chicken, but I like my lasagna to have noodles. And also taste like lasagna. So until Realgood throws something more like sheet pasta in there, this one's gonna be Reallow on my shopping list.

Signature Select Meat Lasagna comes out of the oven packed to the brim and happily bubbling along at a nice 180 F. (I was supposed to warm it to 165 F, but my 1990s apartment oven will not be controlled by human overlords.) Supposedly this 'gna weighs 2 pounds, but I'm pretty sure that's a low estimate. I guess this is the heft of "2x the meat" as it says on the box. For the record, the USDA requires that at least 6% of a meat sauce lasagna actually be meat. Using that math, Signature Select claims it's dishing up 12% meat content.

With zero visible noodles I wondered if this tray was just gonna be all meat, cheese, and tomato sauce. I cut through no less than a ½ inch of melted mozzarella in the very middle of the pan to get to the noodles and extremely hyped-up meat sauce. While the seasoning needs to go back to the drawing board, the noodles are noticeably thick but not unpleasant to chew. Still, as far as the "rich beef meat sauce" goes, it would have been nice to run into a few beefy crumbles somewhere among the layers of tomato and mozzarella. Maybe it would have added more of a homemade feel to the whole thing. Instead, whatever meat there is in this lasagna has been seamlessly blended into the sauce — and any beef-type flavor has also left the building.

I love this packaging so much. It feels cool and Italian, like we're hopping on a Vespa and zipping over to the Amalfi Coast for lunch; Aperol Spritz in hand and the sea salt breeze in our hair. But I realize we're here for the actual lasagna. It doesn't look like the photo, but by this point, I've resigned myself to never reaching product-to-packaging nirvana in the frozen food section.

Straight out of the oven, I see no visible noodles which tells me this recipe has been properly sauced. After that, though, I embark on what I can only describe as an archeological dig, with the edges tasting like meh-sagna until I uncover the ricotta cheese bomb in the middle of the tray, well-hidden between layers of tender noodles. The ricotta and mozzarella combo are a vibe, but still, I crave something to bump up the seasoning in the dish and give the whole thing a kick in the pantaloni. This is how a teacher must feel when their most promising student simply refuses to do the assignment to get the A. As I sit here, lamenting the waste of the cool branding, I somehow resist polishing off the ricotta insides out of sheer sadness.

Lasagna always tastes better at a restaurant than it does at home. But what about eating restaurant lasagna ... at home? Fresh out of the oven, Marie Callender's Italiano Meat Lasagna isn't winning any beauty contests, but those visible Italiano spices give it a little sprinkling of street cred.

At first glance, Marie Callender's lasagna seems scared of the edge of its own baking tray, with most of the pasta huddled in the middle along with the melted cheese. My first red flag is the presence of naked noodles jutting out over the surface like icebergs near the Titanic. Still, as we soldier through the midrange milieu of the frozen lasagnaverse, I'm hopeful that the homespun energy of this restaurant brand will shine through. Immediately, I can confirm that those sauceless, oven-dried noodles are gonna fight you for your fork as you cut into this thing. Sampling instead from the middle of the pan (like everyone's favorite dinner guest), I was relieved to find all the stuffings: Big, bold ricotta energy with a fresh-tasting herbiness and noodles that were a lot more friendly and open-minded about their role in this dish. All parts of the pan considered, I was desperate for a little more salt to give the recipe some legs. But, overall, Marie Callender's serves up a solid No. 5 for hearty pasta lovers.

Looking like a 1:6 scale model of a full-sized lasagna, Stouffer's Meat Lovers Lasagna is extremely cute, delightfully bubbly, and appears almost as if it's actively perched in a vintage ceramic casserole dish. Endless, melted, 100% real mozzarella cheese tells me Stouffer's knows the true desires of my soul.

A word of advice: If you let this one rest beyond a few minutes post-oven, you'll need a knife to slice through the mozzarella, so as not to disturb the perfect layers. Or, you can just go to town with a fork. Style points suddenly don't matter once the rich, fennel-y flavors of Italian sausage and pepperoni trigger the cozy comfort of days gone by, somehow tasting like home even if you didn't grow up with this stuff. Edges that catch in the oven still come out chewy and crispy — and packed with tangy, extra-cheesy flavor. Neat, tender noodles stay in place as you make your way through the dish, with zero extra liquid pooling in the tray. Unlike some of the other meat-branded entries on this list, Stouffer's offers an unapologetic love note to the carnivores out there, with crumbles of beef you can chew. The recipe feels a teensy bit mass-produced — don't look at the encyclopedia of ingredients — but this adorably miniature single-serve situation means I know what Ken and Barbie are having for dinner tonight.

I developed a soft spot for Rao's Made For Home line ever since I taste-tested their frozen meals. As one of the brand's more thoughtfully designed recipes, Rao's Made For Home Meat Lasagna comes as a generous 9-ounce single-serve tray of saucy, meaty delight. While a few of the delicate noodle edges were exposed during cooking, exactly zero of them burned thanks to the film that you're directed to leave on the dish for the duration of the bake. (Luckily, I read all of the directions this time.)

Just like most brands have dialed in tender, not-too-thick noodles, Rao's Made For Home stands out with its undeniable depth of flavor that tastes ... even better than homemade. Every layer feels well-seasoned, almost as if it's emerged from the kitchen of an upscale restaurant. The hearty tomato sauce features two meats (beef and pork), the filling incorporates two cheeses (ricotta and Romano), the "dried herb fairy" dusted every inch of this dish, and creamy, gooey mozzarella tops it all off. It's like they thought of everything. Of course, I'm imagining day-old leftovers snatched straight from the fridge, drizzled with hot sauce, and tasting just as good as the version you pull out of the oven. Take the stress out of sharing by heating up the 27-ounce family sized tray so no one cuts into your special lasagna time.

I will die on this hill, but any lasagna that appears even semi-scratch-made gets extra credit — because this is the entire point of lasagna. Trader Joe's house brand Trader Giotto's Family Style Meat Lasagna comes out of the oven looking good enough for a tablescape. Time to shine, oven mitts — this is not a drill.

Crusty edges look positively scrumptious and give the impression that you spent all day prepping. Cutting into it, the heft feels tall and important — and the molten, charred, bubbly bits on top flake apart with a satisfying whisper. "Shhh," they seem to say, "Lasagna is happening." Sporting zero bad edges, even the noodle ends that took a little more heat are chewy and delicious. Most importantly, I can actually see the meat! A blend of beef and pork add rich flavor to the tender egg noodles, along with seasoning that packs an oniony, garlicky bite. The mozzarella, ricotta, and parmesan cheese blend certainly doesn't hurt anything. A golden-brown bottom holds everything together on your fork or plate. This one's so good, I keep thinking about it long after moving on with my day. Maybe it's the proper amount of salt? Or it's just that Trader Joe's frozen food aisle magic.

Topping the list at No. 1, Beecher's Cheese Curd Lasagna with Meat Sauce dishes up its award-winning handmade cheese for America's favorite pasta dish (and quite possibly the best frozen lasagna in the store). And if you're wondering why the heck there are cheese curds in the mix, stay with me.

This brand intrigued me because I'd never eaten cheese curd lasagna. I had a pre-installed affinity for fresh cheese curds, with all their squeaking between your teeth like you're chewing on the ends of birthday balloons. I also knew of Beecher's Cheese thanks to Salt & Straw which collabs with Beecher's for flavors like Beecher's Cheese and Apple Pie Cinnamon Rolls and Smoked Mac and Cheese.

Purposely avoiding the noodle that rose like a phoenix and turned to stone in the oven, I promptly died and went to heaven. (Dear Diary, so relieved there's cheese here.) While other lasagnas turn their party tricks and exit stage left, Beecher's is busy busting moves long after you finish your last bite. Ricotta and mozzarella taste playfully tangy, while cheese curds offer an umami vibe similar to parmesan. A beef and pork blend serves stick-to-your ribs robustness, and the bright tomato sauce feels like an effervescent party host flitting about, engaging guests in lively conversation. Happily, for anyone new to cheese curds, these do not squeak like rubber. Instead, they melt in your mouth, making Beecher's Cheese Curd Lasagna a total pleasure to eat.

Let's not pretend that I wasn't raising my hand as soon as "Lasagna ranking" was even a thought in someone else's head. There aren't too many foods that can do the work of feeling like a cake while still being pasta. But lasagna does. Lasagna can do anything.

For this tasting, I popped by a few of my local supermarkets and grabbed everything I could find. (Los Angeles might have a rep as the kale capital of the United States, but based on the empty freezer shelves, those salads are clearly topped with lasagna.) I then cranked up my oven (to get that bubbly, broiled cheese topping), read the package directions (okay — most of the directions. Sorry, Amy's!), and got to baking. My apartment smelled like an Italian nonna's house and totally confirmed that I'm the exact demographic for a seasonal lasagna candle. Taste-testing wrapped, and brands officially ranked, I hope you discover a new favorite frozen lasagna to pair with sweater weather — any time of year.