Popular Canned Campbell's Soup Ranked From Most Delicious To Disappointing

Campbell's made its name cooking up comforting soups, neatly-packaged in cans that last forever-ish. But if you've ever found yourself stuck between Spicy Chicken Noodle and Classic Chicken Noodle, grab a bowl, because there's nothing better than homemade chicken soup with a splash of vodka. (Yes, this is real.) And if you don't have time for anything more than a pop top and three minutes in the microwave, nothing beats a can of Campbell's. Having first used the adjective when it launched the line back in 1970 with the slogan, "It's so chunky you'll be tempted to eat it with a fork," Campbell's went on to trademark the word "chunky" in 2018. What started as just Chunky Beef, Chunky Turkey, Chunky Chicken, and Chunky Vegetable now seems to feature every soup under the sun — but chonkier. 

Which variety should you choose? From Campbell's Chunky Split Pea & Ham to Chunky Chili Mac, I grabbed 16 of Campbell's Chunky canned soups off the shelves and put them under the spotlight. (Well, I put them in the microwave, because heating.) Here are some of Campbell's Chunky-est soups ranked from dang delicious to disappointing duds.

Over the course of its 155 years in business, Campbell's has pumped out about a zillion different takes on meat, veg, and starch as a soup (give or take a few). But the Campbell's Chunky Hearty Beef Barley combo feels extra nostalgic with it's warm hug-feeling beefy broth. 

A single kernel of corn floats to the top of the bowl and I stir it back in with its friends; barley, vegetables, potatoes, and a handful of beef chunks. I would sip this well-seasoned beef stock all by itself. But this wouldn't be trademark Chunky-fied without everything else. The corn seems to be the crunchiest element in the mix, and the barley confusingly tastes almost like chewy pasta pearls. The textures are all over the place, but I don't care. It's Campbell's energy from back in the day, and I'd happily eat a bowl of beef barley any day of the week.

Full disclosure, I definitely hallucinated the phrase "and cheese" on this label. Just to confirm, there's no cheese in it, although I'm fully in support of adding shredded sharp cheddar or two pumps of the orange ballpark stuff.

Campbell's Chunky Chili Mac smells like tomatoes and stirs-up thick and stewy with lots of visible elbow macaroni, meat, and kidney beans. Disregarding all the things I say about overcooked pasta in other soups (see below), this macaroni — while way too soft to even qualify as edible pasta — is so wrong, it's right. It doesn't even matter that the ground beef and pork make half-hearted, fleeting appearances, or that the kidney beans are a mush fest (It's a wonder they're even holding it together). Almost as comforting as lasagna soup, Chili Mac is a mouthful of comfort food perfection. BYO cheese for the ultimate gesture of self-love.

Poor grandma, living out her years with everyone trying to riff on her chicken noodle recipe. But after just a taste of Campbell's Chunky Spicy Chicken Noodle, I'm sensing something better-ish than the original. Following decades of rinse-and-repeat with its chicken noodle, Campbell's introduced this one for whoever likes it hot, in 2021.

Yes, the noodles are overcooked, but not mushily so. And the vegetables are just kind of ... there. But the broth is flavorful and spicy, while still feeling light and leaving a little zing on your lips. Also the white meat chicken doesn't taste nearly as dry and chewy as its O.G. brethren. The spice is nowhere near as fiery as the ghost pepper version from Campbell's you'll see later on this list. But if you've tasted regular chicken noodle a million times before, this is your sign to switch it up.

It's the official soup of sick days, kitchens with napkin koozies, and grandmas in commercials. And Campbell's Chunky Classic Chicken Noodle soup has been a hit since it first landed in grocery stores back in 1991.

The ingredients are unmistakably hearty-looking, with triumphant egg noodles, white meat chicken, carrots, and celery pushing the boundaries of my spoon. The broth feels light, but seasoned and buttery, with noodles that are shockingly not overcooked. (Well, not as overcooked as the other pasta-based soups on this list.) The chicken is dry, but it's a tradition in Campbell's chicken noodle and I can't blame it for just being itself. Do I like this one only because it reminds me of a time when I was wrapped in a blanket, needing a warm hug in a bowl? It doesn't matter. I'm currently enjoying this classic without any of the requisite sniffles — and zero grandmas in the vicinity.

The Campbell's Healthy Request label means this recipe may lean a little lighter on the saturated fat and cholesterol than some other varieties. But even so, Campbell's Chunky Chicken and Sausage Gumbo smells rich and promising thanks to the slightest whisper of hickory smoke.

I might be scarred from all the thick, creamy broths I tasted previously, but I love that I can see every ingredient. Rice, pork and chicken andouille sausage, chicken chunks, celery, green peppers, and tiny shreds of okra dot the smoky and black-peppery broth. It's a small pleasure to eat. It loses some steam in the sausage category, since chewing the rounds by themselves reveals that most of the flavor comes from the broth. But even though the veggies don't require chewing, a perfect spoonful of everything together tastes like Campbell's did its best to capture this Southern-favorite dish.

I'd like to formally launch a petition to rename this one "Essence of Tortilla." I also submit "Tortilla Vibes" or "Everything But The Tortilla." Because while I definitely smell the warm, blistered corn aroma of freshly-griddled tortillas, I see none of them. And even though they are listed in the ingredients, I sure don't taste them. (I think I may have found one, but it was too mushy to qualify as food, let alone land on the tortilla radar.)

Campbell's Chunky Chicken Tortilla soup hits the higher end of a middle-of-the-road ranking thanks to its "taco bowl" style ingredients, which are a crowd-pleaser (since roughly 90% of Americans like tacos). The white meat chicken is unsurprisingly dry, but rice, black beans, tomatoes, and a little kicky spice in the broth give this mix some character. What's missing are the tortilla strips on top to add a bit of crunch (and a salty punch which is definitely needed) ... and maybe some hot sauce on the side. Extra points for avocado.

I'm immediately grateful that Campbell's Chunky Minestrone with Italian Sausage smells like an old-school pizza parlor. I'm already picturing red cups with pebble ice and Ms. Pac-Man on a cocktail table arcade. Even though I'm almost sure these Italian spices are setting me up for failure as soon as I taste this one, I don't care. I see sausage. I have high hopes.

This broth is light, and the vegetables have been pulverized into another dimension, as has the fusilli pasta which miraculously still retains its corkscrew shape. Even though the potatoes are also extremely soft, somehow canned soup spuds don't feel out-of-bounds with their barely-there texture. The Italian pork sausage actually comes in bite-sized rounds (instead of ground bits), but lacks enough seasoning to transport you back to the hillsides of Italy. My heart sinks at such a beautiful, nearly homemade-looking soup having so little bellezza in the flavor department.

Campbell's Chunky Steak and Potato looks like gravy and smells like canned stew (rich, but missing homemade-style aromatics like dried herbs). While there are nowhere near as many chunks of steak as the packaging would have you believe, I can only guess that the name Chunky Beef-flavored Potato soup was already taken, and that the scattered beef chunks exist merely for looks.

This feels like a Campbell's classic that the 1950s crowd would have happily slurped up. The potatoes and steak are tender, and the broth packs some heft. Despite the 1,720 milligrams of sodium for the entire contents of the can, I still feel like it could use a little more seasoning. But I see Burgundy wine in the ingredients (allegedly from Burgundy, France). Hello ... I shall take the remainder of my soup in a stem glass with my pinky all the way out. Except replace the Campbell's with just wine because this soup should only be eaten in an emergency.

Sadly, this is not a bowl of Nashville hot chicken with crispy fried crumbles, white bread, and pickles in every bite. But Campbell's Chunky Spicy Nashville-Style Hot Chicken makes an attempt at a trend. And for that, it lands in the middle of the list.

You can't miss the cayenne pepper sauce kick in the otherwise creamy, tomato-y chicken stock. It's spicy, but it also doesn't overwhelm the rest of the flavors. The white meat chicken is actually tender instead of dry, opposite many other Campbell's varieties. And the potatoes and carrots provide a chunkiness of chew. Chopped red peppers feel fun and new — even if they're only there for appearances — and flecks of herbs make this feel semi-homemade. Where it loses all of its pizzazz is in the fact that it's nothing like the real deal. If you're craving Nashville hot chicken, go get Nashville hot chicken. But if you're looking for a comforting bowl of chicken and potato soup with a bit of a 'tude, crack open this can of Campbell's.

Campbell's Chunky Old Bay Seasoned Clam Chowder definitely smells like Old Bay right outta the pot. Except it also has me thinking of the seasoning's home state seafood: Maryland crabs — zero of which appear in this recipe.

Possibly a slight upgrade to Campbell's New England clam chowder, the thick, creamy broth tastes a little spicier thanks to the mustardy, celery-ish flavors of Old Bay. But just like the regular clam chowder, the inclusion of any actual clams seems to have been an afterthought. This recipe totally beats out most other Campbell's cream-based offerings thanks to its kick, but if you're hoping to taste the bounty of the sea, canned soup might not be the place to do it. I'm also still wishing this Old Bay flavor had been paired with crab. If crab soup ever becomes a Campbell's Chunky thing, I'll take 10%.

While I love a velvety, buttery soup, I'm so not a creamy soup person if I'm judging based on looks. Luckily, little bits of herbs add some kind of interest, because the chunks do nothing for Campbell's Chunky Creamy Chicken Bacon Carbonara. I hear there's pasta somewhere in my bowl, but it's nearly impossible to decipher the noodles from the chicken. (Wait. There are peas in this?)

The aroma is that of soupy bacon (Not fresh off the griddle, but still smells pork-y). Traditional carbonara pasta dishes feature guanciale, eggs, cheese, and loads of black pepper, so I think here Campbell's interpreted cured pork as bacon, and then added the other stuff to make it soup. By itself, the broth does taste cheesy but needs salt, the pasta has been cooked within an inch of its life, and the bacon is bacon bits. Which is a bummer. Any chicken you happen to encounter definitely doesn't count as chunky, and tastes remarkably dry for soaking in such a rich, creamy sauce.

I wanted to joke about this being Campbell's version of classic chicken noodle — if grandma joined a motorcycle gang. But I can't think straight because I'm sneezing at whatever spice is now wafting through the air after cooking this on the stove. I have yet to taste ghost pepper at full power in foods that are, say, possibly meant for kids. But maybe Campbell's Chunky Ghost Pepper Chicken Noodle will be the first.

Happily, the broth is actually spicy. (Not raw ghost pepper level, but several Scoville Heat Units above regular chicken noodle soup.) But I also can't really taste the egg noodles, white meat chicken chunks, or veg because of the seasoning. I see that there are herbs, which I'm guessing are just here to provide ambiance. I enjoy some heat, but between the temperature of the soup and potent spice, my nose is running, my mustache is sweating, and I'm secretly hoping grandma ditches her motorcycle club ASAP. (Somebody pass the milk.)

Meet the soup with the world's worst rep. (Yes, this is anecdotal, but Campbell's Chunky Split Pea & Ham is, indeed, the one that develops the skin on top if you look away from it for two seconds.) But while this variety could use some better PR, fans know split peas dish up a satisfying bowl.

This heart-healthy Campbell's offering smells smoky and enticing ... y'know, if you close your eyes. The overall green globbiness with the occasional chunks of ham certainly aren't selling it, aesthetically, but past that, a gravy-style broth provides the perfect vehicle for whatever vegetables are hiding in it. (Oh, right, it's carrots, split peas, and potatoes.) The factor taking this old-timey favorite down a few notches is that it's oddly light on flavor. Where I might expect the ham to act as a sweet and smoky powerhouse, here it seems to be a bystander at its own game. Either this recipe needs more ham, more salt, or both.

Julia Child's favorite soup had just three ingredients — and, surprise, tiny hamburgers wasn't one of them. I laughed out loud at the mini burger patties floating in my bowl of Campbell's Chunky Texas-Style BBQ Burger. I immediately noticed the smokiness of the barbecue sauce, but the tomato-based broth kind of throws a wet veggie blanket on the Texas smokehouse rodeo.

Maybe the roughly 10 mini sirloin burgers-per-can equal one regular burger. Even so, if you're a burger person, ever had a burger in your life, or have even possibly seen a burger patty from afar, these are disappointing. Instead of mimicking sliders, they're more like too-soft beef discs that make this soup feel disjointed. The broth tastes like you're drinking smoky tomato juice, and seems incapable of bringing the signature Campbell's potato chunks and mini burgers together as one. I'm trying to like it, but I just can't make these flavors form a soup, at least in my head.

Well, Campbell's Chunky New England Clam Chowder looks traditionally chowder-y, with its obvious creaminess and little bits of what I hope are New England clams and potatoes. But, to be honest, the gelatinous, sort of jiggly nature of this soup gives me pause. (Gulp.)

The aroma smells of the sea, which I can't tell is good or bad. The thick broth itself has a savoriness to it, even if it's light on the seasoning. The potatoes are chopped just as small as the bits of clam, and while I tried to get the perfect bite of everything, it ended up being all potatoes. After some deep sea fishing, I reeled in a few microscopic clams. (Apparently barely any clams were harmed in the making of this soup.) If you're currently experiencing a New England clam chowder craving, look to the sea, not the canned soup aisle.

Contrary to literally any other scenario, the use of the word "dumplings" here makes me nervous. Campbell's Chunky Creamy Chicken & Dumplings has a not-exactly-appetizing smell. An oily layer gathers along the perimeters of the thick, creamy surface. I close my eyes and stir it back into itself.

While it would definitely benefit from restaurant-level seasoning, I'm not loving the flavor of the broth in general. It tastes almost bitter while being creamy — as both qualities fight each other for first place. The chicken chunks at least taste moist, even though they look like ham. But good luck getting many of those, amidst the off-putting mix of mushy vegetables — and spaetzle dumplings. If you're thinking of soup-style dumplings that have a savory filling, you're thinking of the wrong dumplings. Traditional German spaetzle involves an egg pasta that's dropped in water, but whatever's happening here is so soft it almost tastes like bread that's gotten soggy in water. I try to give every creamy soup a fighting chance, but this one's got nothing good going for it.

Choosing between soups on the shelf while other shoppers bump into your cart — or your friend distracts your internet shopping with cat memes — doesn't have to be a drag. And when it came to a ranking of Campbell's Chunky favorites, I tuned out the world, and honed in on those Chunky™ chunks.

There are other varieties floating around on the internet, but I sourced what I could from my local supermarket. And at less than $3 a pop in Los Angeles, it felt like a deal of a meal. Still, only a few were worth the 35% recycled steel cans they were packaged in. I cooked them in the microwave and on the stovetop, and tasted each — in no particular order. For the record, that Ghost Pepper Chicken Noodle might come back to haunt you long after you eat it.