The Worst Bacon Brands That Will Ruin Your Breakfast

Bacon should be simple. You buy a pack, throw it in a pan, and ten minutes later your kitchen smells like a Saturday morning should. But somewhere between the sizzle and the plate, a lot of bacon brands manage to screw this up spectacularly. Rubbery texture, more fat than meat, weirdly sweet, oddly chemical — bad bacon is a real thing, and millions of Americans are buying it every single week without realizing they’re settling for garbage.

I’ve spent way too much time reading taste tests, comparing nutritional labels, and cooking off different packs to figure out which brands consistently disappoint. What follows is a ranking of the worst bacon brands you’ll find at the grocery store, starting from the bottom of the barrel and working up to the ones that are merely mediocre. If your favorite shows up here, I’m sorry. Actually, no I’m not. You deserve better bacon.

Great Value (Walmart Store Brand)

Let’s start with the absolute bottom. Great Value bacon — Walmart’s house brand — has been ranked the single worst bacon brand in America in multiple taste tests, and honestly, it earns that title. This is the bacon that looks fine in the package and then betrays you completely once it hits the heat.

The biggest issue is shrinkage. You open a pack expecting a reasonable amount of meat, and after cooking, you’re left with sad little curled-up strips that look like they went through the dryer. The fat-to-meat ratio is way off — you’re paying for water weight and fat that renders away into nothing. What’s left behind has a bland, slightly artificial taste that no amount of maple syrup or pepper can save.

Yes, it’s cheap. Usually around $4 to $5 for a standard pack. But price per actual edible bite? You’re getting ripped off. You’d be better off spending two more dollars on something that doesn’t dissolve in the pan.

Bar-S

Bar-S is one of those brands that shows up in the discount section of your grocery store, and there’s a reason for that. This is budget bacon that tastes like budget bacon. The strips are paper-thin — we’re talking almost translucent — and they cook up so crispy-brittle that they shatter if you look at them wrong.

The flavor profile is heavy on smoke and salt but light on anything resembling actual pork. It’s the kind of bacon that falls short in every category that matters: texture, taste, and the simple satisfaction of eating something that feels like real food. Bar-S has its place in the world — maybe crumbled over a cheap baked potato — but as the star of a weekend breakfast plate, it’s an insult to the meal.

Hormel Black Label Original

This one hurts because Hormel is everywhere. It’s in practically every grocery store in America, it runs constant ads, and a lot of people consider it their default bacon. But professional taste testers have consistently flagged Hormel Black Label Original as one of the most disappointing bacons on the shelf.

At around $6 for 12 ounces, it’s not the cheapest option, which makes its mediocrity sting even more. The texture is actually okay — it crisps up decently if you don’t overcook it. But the flavor is where it falls apart. It tastes processed. There’s a weird sweetness that doesn’t belong, and the smoke flavor comes across as artificial rather than genuine. One major taste test ranked it near the very bottom, calling it out for being underwhelming in a crowded field.

The frustrating thing about Hormel is that they clearly have the infrastructure to make great bacon. They just chose to make aggressively average bacon instead and charge a mid-tier price for it.

Oscar Mayer Original

Oscar Mayer is a household name — hot dogs, deli meat, the Wienermobile. But their bacon is a letdown. Ranked alongside Hormel as one of the worst everyday bacon brands, Oscar Mayer Original has that same factory-produced quality that screams “mass market” without any of the charm.

The slices are uneven — some thick, some thin — so you end up with a mixed bag of burnt pieces and chewy, undercooked ones no matter how carefully you monitor the pan. The salt level is cranked up high, and behind that wall of sodium, there’s not much going on. No depth, no richness, no reason to reach for it when better options exist at the same price point.

Read the ingredient label on a pack of Oscar Mayer sometime. It’s a longer list than you’d expect for something that should just be pork, salt, and smoke. That tells you a lot.

Farmland

Farmland bacon markets itself with that wholesome, heartland-of-America vibe, but the product doesn’t match the branding. This is another case of thin-cut strips that lose most of their volume during cooking. You start with what looks like a full pan and end up with about six sad pieces huddled together in a pool of grease.

The smoke flavor is faint, almost like they waved the bacon past a smoker and called it a day. And the texture after cooking is inconsistent — rubbery in spots, overly crispy in others. For the price (usually $5 to $6), you’re paying for the name on the package more than what’s inside it. Farmland isn’t aggressively bad. It’s just forgettable, which might be worse. At least terrible bacon gives you something to talk about.

Smithfield

Smithfield is one of the largest pork producers in the world, so you’d think their bacon would benefit from that scale. Sometimes it does, sometimes it really doesn’t. Their standard Original variety suffers from the classic big-brand problem: it tastes like it was designed by a committee. Nothing offensive, nothing memorable.

The strips tend to run fatty, and not in the good marbled way — more like big white chunks of fat with thin ribbons of meat threaded through them. When you compare the price per ounce to what you actually get in edible meat, the math doesn’t work in your favor. Smithfield has some premium lines that are better, but their baseline product belongs on this list.

Why Cheap Bacon Costs You More

Here’s the thing most people don’t think about: cheap bacon isn’t actually cheap. When half the pack renders down to grease and you’re left with a handful of crispy bits, you’re paying the same per-bite as premium bacon. A $4 pack of Great Value that shrinks by 60% during cooking is a worse deal than an $8 pack of thick-cut bacon that holds its size.

Weight matters too. A lot of budget brands pump their bacon with water and sodium solutions before packaging. That 16-ounce pack? A chunk of that weight is water you’re paying meat prices for. The water cooks off, the bacon shrinks, and you’re left wondering where your money went.

If you want to actually save money on bacon, buy thick-cut from a mid-range brand. You’ll use fewer strips per serving because they’re more substantial, and the shrinkage is dramatically less. Three thick slices can replace five or six thin ones.

What To Look For Instead

Since I just tore apart half the bacon aisle, here’s what to actually grab instead. Look for bacon with a short ingredient list — pork, water, salt, sugar, and natural smoke flavoring is about all you need. If the list runs more than seven or eight items, put it back.

Thickness matters. Thin-cut bacon is almost always a worse experience unless you’re specifically making it for BLTs where you want shatteringly crispy strips. For everything else — breakfast plates, burgers, scrambled egg bowls — thick-cut gives you better texture and better value.

And ignore the front of the package entirely. “Hardwood smoked,” “naturally flavored,” “premium cut” — these phrases mean almost nothing. Flip it over, check the ingredients, look at the price per ounce, and examine the actual fat-to-meat ratio through the little window on the back. That window is your best friend in the bacon aisle.

The Verdict

Great Value is the worst offender on this list — the shrinkage alone should be a crime. Hormel and Oscar Mayer sit right behind it, coasting on brand recognition while delivering lackluster bacon. Bar-S, Farmland, and Smithfield round out the bottom, each failing in their own specific ways.

The common thread? Every one of these brands prioritizes volume and shelf price over the actual eating experience. They know most people don’t compare bacon brands carefully. They know you’ll grab whatever’s familiar or whatever’s on sale. And they’re banking on that autopilot behavior.

Break the habit. Next time you’re in the store, walk past the usual suspects and try something different. Your Saturday morning is worth it.

Chloe Sinclair
Chloe Sinclair
Cooking has always been second nature to me. I learned the basics at my grandmother’s elbow, in a kitchen that smelled like biscuits and kept time by the sound of boiling pots. I never went to culinary school—I just stuck with it, learning from experience, community cookbooks, and plenty of trial and error. I love the stories tied to old recipes and the joy of feeding people something comforting and real. When I’m not in the kitchen, you’ll find me tending to my little herb garden, exploring antique shops, or pulling together a simple meal to share with friends on a quiet evening.

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