15 Canned Coffees Ranked, Worst To Best

I love canned coffee. It's perfect as a grab-and-go beverage in the a.m., offering something a little different from making coffee at home. As I selected canned coffees for our ranked taste test, I couldn't believe how many products are out there. To find the standouts, I tried 15 canned coffees and ranked them worst to best.

Canned nitro cold brew is everywhere. If I wanted to, I could have done a taste test on those alone — but that would have given me heartburn. Another major trend is oat milk. I'm not surprised to see oat milk in its canned coffee era — though it's a legitimate challenge to find a can of oat milk with coffee under six grams of sugar. Try as I might, I couldn't get my hands on a canned coffee with milk that didn't include added sugar. It felt disappointing, but the show must go on.

My criteria for the canned coffee taste test was simple. Overall, taste was the biggest factor in how I sized up each coffee. The more depth and balance of flavor, the higher the ranking. I also paid attention to the aftertaste — a bold yet clean finish is my ideal. Other qualities that improved a coffee's ranking were the use of natural ingredients and a modest calorie count. I'll go into more detail about my methods at the end of the feature, but for now, let's rank some cans.

The Bright designation on this cute little can of Blue Bottle Coffee immediately had me thinking that this would be a high-acidity cold brew. The coffee's translucent, medium-brown color reinforced the hunch. Then the taste hammered the acidity all the way home. I am of the mind that highly floral, lighter roast coffees don't lend themselves to the cold coffee format the way bold roasts do — they're too acidic, too sharp-tasting. That was exactly my impression of Blue Bottle's Bright Cold Brew, which basically stabbed my tongue.

Without any milk or flavoring to mellow things out, Blue Bottle Bright Cold Brew doesn't make for easy drinking. The impact of coffee flavor was there, it's just too harsh for my liking. What I enjoy about a dark cold coffee is how the full-bodied roast gives dimension to the strong flavor, making it more palatable. Blue Bottle also sells a canned Bold Cold Brew, and I'm willing to bet it's a better buy.

A nitro cold brew tonic water mashup doesn't sound all that appealing, and well, it wasn't. The immediate perception from my taste buds was a jarring clash of flavor. There was an acidic twinge from the Arabica coffee and an overarching bittersweetness of quinine from the tonic. A millisecond before swallowing, the competing flavors almost find a strange harmony, only to be capsized by an aftertaste that lingered heavily at the base of my throat until I ate a cracker.

What is Raposa's objective with this fizzy cold brew tonic anyway? The description on the can throws around niceties like "incredibly refreshing," "zesty," and "transcends expectations," before noting that Nitro Cold Brew Tonic can be enjoyed as is or mixed with "your favorite adult beverage." With Raposa's blessing, I poured some vodka in. And it tasted bad. For a second opinion, I passed the glass to a friend whose lips bunched into a puckered grimace before calling the beverage "a bit of a monstrosity."

That touch of sweet was pretty heavy-handed, and Sail Away's cold brew couldn't stand up to it. Sail Away gives us a nitro cold brew that is very middle-of-the-road. It has the acidity of a lighter roast with zero complexity. Plus, the nitrogen infusion is all but lost. The cold brew method of steeping beans in cold water for around 12 to 24 hours is known to give the finished product a robust yet mellow taste. Sail Away's version is nothing like that.  

There is something off about combining this timid cold brew with the sugar component. Sail Away uses natural cane sugar (seven grams per can), but it finishes like an artificial substitute. The sweetness keeps the cold brew's acidic properties from completely taking over, but there is a general lack of harmony between the two ingredients, and they rely on each other unsuccessfully. Sail Away offers other canned coffee flavors and maybe they're better, but the seed of skepticism has been planted.

The can says, "Slingshot Nitro Flash Brew is rich and creamy with notes of caramel, baking spices and dark fruit." Is it, though? Slingshot's offering is an acidic cold brew, so picking up on notes of dark fruit didn't happen. Bonus points for the crisp and clean finish, but rich and creamy this was not.

Flash brew, also called Japanese iced coffee, differs from cold brew because it is made using hot water and the pour-over method. The bottom of the pour-over carafe is layered with ice cubes, so as the coffee drips in through the filter it immediately chills. As for the nitro infusion, it doesn't really add anything of value to the situation. Nitro Flash Brew from Slingshot Coffee Co. isn't something I would pick again. It wasn't undrinkable, it simply reminded me how much I long for a bolder-tasting coffee brew.

A dose of lactose-free energy with a hit of high protein sounded nice, so I reserved a slice of expectation for the Slate Caramel Latte. I wasn't crazy about this one. Is it just me, or do a lot of caramel-flavored coffee drinks taste artificial?

In Slate's case, the caramel is indeed, a cacophony of chemicals. The ingredients list indicates "less than 2% of Natural flavors," promptly followed by salt, pectin, diopotassium phosphate, cellulose gel, and cellulose gum. Uh, yummy? The list goes on to reveal ingredients that are more my style (natural caffeine, stevia leaf, monk fruit), but Slate Caramel Latte's flavor profile is compromised by too many chemicals, and it was obvious before I scrutinized the back of the can.

On the positive, the texture was creamy enough and the 175 milligrams of caffeine were appreciated. I notice when a canned coffee tries to offer a little extra in terms of physical benefit — like added protein (Slate's can has 20 grams). Unfortunately, not all the additions to this canned latte were as mindful.

Is it cake ... batter? I picked up on the vanilla taste indicated on the can, and the sweetness of cake — but whatever flavor notes separate cake from donut are hard to say. The flavor isn't great and it masked the coffee almost entirely, but in all honesty, I thought this would taste a lot worse than it did.

As far as coffee is concerned though, Dunkin's canned cake batter doesn't do it for me. It isn't sickly sweet, but far sweeter than I want my coffee to be. I can't picture myself downing a whole can (which has 200 calories and 30 grams of sugar), on account of a cloying aftertaste (and the fact that I prefer my cake batter in cake form). Still, the worst thing I can say about Dunkin's Cake Batter Donut Iced Coffee is that it doesn't really taste like coffee.

I was expecting Costa to bring the sweet factor with its Mocha Iced Coffee Latte — there are 23 grams of sugar in an 11-ounce can, after all — but what was more disappointing than the cringey sugar content was an artificial aftertaste I noticed after the first sip. There was a definite presence of mocha in a way that made a can of Costa's taste almost like chocolate milk and almost like coffee. Anyone who downs this can of Costa hoping for a morning pick-me-up might leave the experience a little ... unenergized. 

With all this sugar, a modest "approximately 85 milligrams" of caffeine, and a taste that borders on meh, Costa Mocha Iced Coffee Latte fails to stand out from the rest. I finished the can with ease (because you know, it's chocolate milk and coffee), but would I seek out this brand again? Probably not.

In case you didn't know, Monster, a dominator of energy drinks since its founding in 2002, has been making Java Monster Loca Moca canned coffee for decades now (three flavors of coffee and dairy energy drinks joined Monster's lineup in 2007). At 15 ounces, Java Monster is the largest can of the group. Between its size and Monster's unapologetic use of who-knows-why-that's-in-there chemicals, it makes sense that this beverage would pack the most calories.

Taurine and Ginseng Flavor, a combo found in many a Monster Energy Drink, also features in the Loca Moca Java Monster, but it actually works into the general flavor profile. Speaking of the flavor profile, this wasn't mocha-y at all. Monster's canned coffee may lack the refinement of other brands, but it isn't trying to be a coffee company — it's simply offering a coffee-centric alternative to a massively popular line of energy drinks, and I respect that.

When I saw ShopRite house brand Bowl & Basket had a canned coffee, I was curious to try it. The approach is straightforward and the price is more modest than many competitors. A lot of the artisan coffee companies prioritize package design to give their canned coffees a modern, small-batch feel. ShopRite doesn't fixate on that part; it has groceries to sell.

This is a solid launch for Bowl & Basket. It doesn't try to do more than it should, and gives me a cold coffee that tastes exactly as described. The 170 calories and 26 grams of sugar are a bit much for an eight-ounce can, especially since this latte is sweeter than it needs to be. I could also do without additives like maltodextrin and potassium carbonate. Other brands that just make coffee tend to be more mindful with ingredients, while ShopRite takes the easier route.

Pop & Bottle isn't coasting on the general popularity of cold brew or the oat milk latte. This drink is part canned coffee, part wellness tonic and it comes with "adaptogens." In Pop & Bottle speak, adaptogens are feel-good herbs like maca and ashwaganda — supplements more commonly found in vitamin tablets than lattes. It's an alluring concept, but how does it taste?

The first sip was a little medicinal — definitely more tonic than latte. The oat milk and herbal adaptogens made the earthiness of the drink stand out. As I sipped on, the mocha flavor came through and I grew more accustomed to the can's contents, but the biggest takeaway here was that it didn't really taste like coffee.

The concept of cold brew not tasting like coffee isn't one I can fully embrace. I also noticed that the drink got more chocolatey toward the bottom, so be sure to give this can a good shake. Overall, I appreciate the uniqueness and ambition behind Pop & Bottle Mocha Cold Brew Oat Milk Latte, but the coffee aspect took too much of a backseat.

Starbucks is an OG in the canned coffee game, with a lot of recognizable products on the market. I went for one of the newer Starbucks cans: Nitro Cold Brew with Vanilla Sweet Cream. It's a solid canned coffee. Starbucks Vanilla Sweet Cream Cold Foam was introduced to the chain's repertoire a few years ago and has been incorporated into countless drinks from the brand ever since.

The description on the front is mostly what you get. A pressurized hiss as you open the can reminds you that it's a nitro cold brew. Vanilla Sweet Cream is the star flavor-wise — just like the can said it would be. Yes, it's sweet (11 grams of sugar sweet), but not to the point where it disguises the cold brew. The nitro angle was the most forgettable part about this coffee. Aside from announcing its presence as I opened the can, there wasn't much fizz — but Starbucks isn't one to skip out on a coffee trend.

Rise Brewing Co. was smart to combine two of the canned coffee market's hottest commodities, nitro cold brew and oat milk, but trendy doesn't always translate to delicious. In Rise's case, however, a nitro cold brew oat milk latte is a success. There is a restraint to the sugar and oat milk flavors which allowed each component inside the can to shine. There was plenty of foam from the nitrogen which gave a nice frothing effect to the oat milk. Earthy notes from both the oat milk and cold brew coffee came off as balanced, and the subtle richness of the nitro flavor pulled it all together.

Rise Brewing Co., a small business whose establishment has shuffled between New York City and Stamford, Connecticut, is all about making canned coffee that is free from the usual preservatives. This is something I appreciate from the food and beverage industry in general, and commend Rise's efforts. If I could change something about this canned coffee, it would be the sugar content. For a cold brew latte that wasn't all that sweet, 11 grams of sugar in a seven ounce can seems a little much.

I loved the creamy coffee flavor of la Colombe's Triple Draft latte. The sweetness is something you can taste right away but not obnoxiously so, which makes for smooth and easy drinking. In a perfect world, I would nix the four grams of added sugars (there's a total of eight grams of sugar per can), but alas, utopia escapes me — even in the coffee aisle.

La Colombe's Triple Draft Latte is actually cold brew with milk (as opposed to an espresso-based drink), but the milky texture and coffee-focused flavor provide the unctuous simplicity of a café latte. I also appreciate the 150 milligrams of caffeine packed into the can's nine ounces. This is a delightful canned coffee from a brand whose prowess in grocery store fridges is well-earned. The Triple Draft Latte clocks in at a reasonable 100 calories, though that number would dip lower without the added sugar.

Guilty pleasure alert! With 11 grams of sugar, Nguyen Coffee Supply isn't giving us an ideal nutrition panel for a daily brew. That said, this was delicious. Each sip provides a smooth texture and taste from start to finish, plus a frothy effect from the sweetened condensed milk. The aftertaste is free of the harshness or bitterness that can linger in cold coffees. Nguyen keeps it simple, and because of that this is a pleasant, easy coffee to drink.

The sugar makes it hard to tell how dark or light the roast was — a viable cause for complaint amongst the java purists in the crowd — but this is something my sweet sensibilities didn't allow me to harp on too much. Nguyen's Cold Brew Coffee is made with Robusta beans, which get a bad wrap because they're cheaper than Arabica beans, but paired with the sweetened condensed milk, it just works (so does the 180 milligrams of caffeine they provide). Perhaps most of all, we love that Nguyen Coffee Supply, founded by first-generation Vietnamese American Sahra Nguyen, is bringing Vietnamese coffee mainstream. Sweetened condensed milk in coffee started as a resourceful alternative in wartime, and has gone on to appeal to coffee drinkers all over the world. I can see why.

Some of these nitro cold brews had me scratching my head, questioning whether I understand what a nitro cold brew is (cold brew coffee with nitrogen, right?). Then I cracked open Stumptown's Hair Bender. I heard the fizz from the nitrogen gas and saw a layer of foam. I tasted it and swore my hair bent a little.

There is a depth of flavor and point of view inside this can. Stumptown pushes the envelope with the Hair Bender Nitro Cold Brew in terms of what tasting notes I get. There's an earthiness but no muddy aftertaste. I can taste the nitrogen, but it's interesting rather than off-putting. Stumptown brings sophistication to the canned coffee space, or maybe it's experience — or both. Either way, Hair Bender, I feel you.

I am a certified barista, daily coffee drinker, and have sampled canned coffees in various parts of the world (here's looking at you, Sweden). I sought out canned coffees that could be purchased individually instead of by the case. I also aimed to include a variety of brands and brew styles in the taste test. Nitro brews, cold brews galore, oat milk, and other latte-inspired coffees made up the bulk of the list. Every coffee represented is from a different brand.

Canned coffees that were overly sweet, highly acidic, or left an unpleasant aftertaste (be it a cloying sugar sensation or an unshakeable bitterness) ranked the lowest. Brands with a lot of chemical ingredients or excessively high in calories were also down-ranked.

The canned coffees topping my list were different from one another, but possessed the same crucial attributes. Each had a clear point of view that wasn't compromised by commercial trends. For the ones that were sweet, the sugar didn't bog down the coffee's flavor notes, but complemented it instead. Artificial additives were minimal, which in turn kept the calorie count in check.