Canned tuna feels like one of those grocery items where the brand barely matters. You toss a can in the cart, mix it with some mayo, and call it lunch. But anyone who has ever lined up a bunch of cans and tasted them side by side will tell you the gap between the worst tuna and the best tuna is huge. Some brands give you flaky, clean tasting fish. Others hand you a bone-dry puck bobbing in cheap oil that even your cat would sniff at and walk away from.
Blind taste testers, sustainability watchdogs, and one very expensive federal court case have all weighed in on which brands earn your dollar and which ones are coasting on name recognition. Here are the canned tuna brands worth skipping, ranked from the absolute worst to the one can that is actually worth reaching for.
9. StarKist (The Worst)
Charlie the Tuna has been selling this stuff for decades, but the mascot is doing a lot of heavy lifting. When The Takeout ran a blind taste test, StarKist landed dead last. The reviewer literally could not finish a small bite. The flavor was described as overwhelmingly fishy, like the smell of a fish cleaning shack, and not in a good, nostalgic way. StarKist sells a wide lineup of snack kits and pouches, but none of it fixes the base product.
Then there is the courtroom drama. StarKist was one of three giants caught in a price-fixing conspiracy that ran from 2011 to 2015. The company agreed to plead guilty and faced a maximum criminal fine of $100 million, all part of a settlement package topping $216 million that a judge finalized in November 2024. Bad taste and a rap sheet is a rough combination.
8. Chicken of the Sea
Chicken of the Sea has been around since 1914, so you would think they would have this figured out. They do not. In a blind ranking of 14 brands, its 25% Less Sodium Chunk Light in Water finished as the single worst can tested. Cracking it open revealed a puddle of water with fleshy pink bits swimming around, and despite being soaked, the fish somehow tasted bone-dry and completely leached of flavor. No amount of mayonnaise or cheese could rescue it.
The oil-packed version is not better, since it leans on cheap soybean oil instead of olive oil. Transparency is another problem. As of late 2024, the most recent “annual” sustainability report the company had published was from 2022. Chicken of the Sea’s parent company was also part of that same price-fixing settlement. A lot of red flags for a can this bland.
7. Bumble Bee
Bumble Bee is another household name that flops when you actually taste it. Reviewers who opened its solid white albacore found what one described as a basic mush hockey puck, and reportedly even cats turned their noses up at it. The oil-packed line is built on vegetable broth and soybean oil rather than the olive oil you find in nicer cans, which is exactly the kind of filler that flattens flavor.
Bumble Bee also carries the heaviest baggage of the big three. The company pleaded guilty to criminal price fixing back in 2017 and paid a $25 million fine, and its former CEO actually served a 40-month federal prison sentence for his role. Greenpeace has separately called out the brand for greenwashing. Familiar name, deeply disappointing product.
6. Great Value (Walmart)
Walmart’s store brand is priced to move, and the quality tells you exactly why it is cheap. The chunky light tuna packed in vegetable oil has been described as mushy and genuinely annoying to drain, since the soybean oil clings to every flake. It is the definition of a can where texture gives away the corner cutting.
Watchdogs have also flagged Great Value for questionable sourcing and higher sodium levels compared with better options. Look, if you are stretching a grocery budget, I understand the appeal. But this is one of those items where spending a dollar more genuinely changes what ends up on your plate. You get what you pay for, and here you are not paying for much.
5. Kirkland Signature (Costco)
This one stings, because Kirkland is usually a slam dunk. Costco’s house brand crushes it on everything from batteries to olive oil, so shoppers assume the tuna is a hidden gem too. It is not the value champion you expect. Kirkland’s canned tuna contains sodium acid pyrophosphate, a synthetic preservative you simply will not find in the premium cans further down this list.
Sourcing is the bigger knock. Greenpeace ranked Kirkland among the worst tuna cans back in 2017 over the destructive fishing methods used to fill those cans, and the brand has done little publicly to address it since. It is perfectly fine for a quick casserole in a pinch. Just know it is not the overachiever the rest of the Kirkland aisle trained you to expect.
4. Safe Catch
Here is the reveal that trips people up. Safe Catch markets itself as the fancy, do-everything-right premium option and charges a premium price to match. The brand tests every single fish and plasters bold claims all over the label. So it is a genuine shock how badly it performs on flavor.
Taste testers were brutal. One review called it excessively salty and metallic with a fishy aftertaste that was definitely not clean tuna. Chowhound’s tasters agreed, hitting the wild skipjack for a flavor that was both metallic and overly salty, with a lingering aftertaste that was even more off-putting. The texture is not dry, which is the one point in its favor, but that cannot save the taste. When reviewers flat out say a premium can is not worth the money, that is the whole ballgame.
3. Wild Planet
Wild Planet is where we start climbing out of the danger zone, and it is genuinely split-personality tuna. On sustainability, it is a star. The brand is turtle and dolphin safe, uses zero nets, and targets smaller fish. That reputation is well earned.
The problem is that the plain albacore has been called beautiful-looking, bitter tasting tuna, which is a real letdown. But here is the trick. The same tasters who trashed lesser brands actually ranked Wild Planet’s albacore in extra virgin olive oil among the best cans they tried, praising it for the best tasting olive oil of the bunch. So the move is simple. Skip the plain water-packed can and grab the olive oil version instead. Same brand, wildly different experience.
2. Tonnino
Now we are into the good stuff, the cans worth actually spending money on. Tonnino’s yellowfin in olive oil earned real praise from tasters for its flaky texture and strong, satisfying tuna flavor that never crosses into that gross, overly fishy territory. The salty edge works with the fish instead of fighting it, enhancing the whole bite rather than drowning it.
You will usually spot Tonnino in a glass jar rather than a can, which lets you actually see the quality of the fillet before you buy it. It costs more than the supermarket standbys, no question. But if your tuna is the star of the dish, whether that is a nice salad or a pasta, this is the upgrade that makes people ask what you did differently. It is a legitimate step up in class.
1. Ortiz Bonito Del Norte (The Best)
If you want the best can on the shelf, this is it. Ortiz Bonito Del Norte is Spanish white tuna packed in olive oil, and it plays in a completely different league. It is caught by rod and hook in the Cantabrian Sea, one at a time, which leaves the fish’s natural habitat undisturbed and keeps the quality of each fillet high. That care shows up in the can.
Reviewers raved about its delicate flavor, flaky texture, and the clean, bright taste of good olive oil. This is tuna you can eat straight from the tin with a fork and a squeeze of lemon and feel like you are having something special. Worth a shout too is Natural Catch, which comes in a flat sardine-style tin with high-caliber extra virgin olive oil from Spain and pole-and-line caught fish, the most sustainable method there is. Either one runs circles around the big American names.
The takeaway here is dead simple. Ignore name recognition, because in taste test after taste test, the most familiar cans finished at the very bottom. The brands packing their fish in cheap soybean oil and vegetable broth are the ones handing you dry, bland filler. Spend a little extra on tuna packed in real olive oil, and you will never go back to the puck.
