9 Store-Bought Crab Dips, Ranked

Let's go fishing for a great crab dip. I would lump crab dip in the same category as salmon mousse or smoked trout dip. These are the kinds of seafood creations that, when done well, can be the centerpiece of a diverse appetizer spread. But when done poorly, they can really stink up a party — both literally and figuratively.

It truly is a roll of the dice with these kinds of maritime starters, and the gamble becomes even greater when they're store-bought. You really never know what you're going to get from a supermarket seafood department. Which is why I'm doing the dangerous work for you and testing out different store-bought crab dip options to separate the keepers from the throwbacks.

With crab prices where they are (if you're not up to date on the current ebbs and flows of the seafood market, they're quite high), it comes as no surprise that many brands use imitation crab in their dips. Only a few incorporate true crab meat. So, I judged more on the amount of meat — no matter whether it was real or fake — and if it had a strong seafood taste. If a crab dip doesn't taste like crab, what's the point? I additionally looked for creaminess, brine, and a bold blend of seasonings. A bit of spice never hurt either. I paired all the crab dip renditions with a handful of neutral sea salt pita chips before plunging in and ranking each one from my least to most favorite.

The packaging says "salad", but on Kroger's website, it's also referred to as a dip. So, I suppose this product is a little bit of both? I was certainly able to scoop up stringy seafood pieces with a pita chip, if that tells you anything. However, I can also see the mixture being spooned onto a bed of greens or piled onto a brioche bun for a more crab-centric meal instead of an appetizer.

Alternative uses aside, this product landed at the bottom of my list — not because of its confused identity or because it throws in pollock and/or Pacific whiting rather than real crab meat (most of the dips here share this in common, so it's a non-issue), but because it doesn't live up to its tongue-in-cheek name: Kickin' Krab. You would expect this alliteratively titled dip to be both spicy and full of crabby flavor. What you get is a mildly meaty blend that packs no heat and hardly tastes like seafood at all.

Flavors of shellfish, jalapeño peppers, and cayenne are lost in a sea of disjointed dressing. A combination of mayonnaise, ketchup, and ranch (that's right, ranch dressing) coalesces to create a strangely sweet base — almost like a thin sweet chili sauce, minus the tang and spice. The result is a concoction that can't quite make up its mind about what it wants to be. And, in my opinion, seafood dips are already ambiguous enough; we don't need any more mystery.

We have Louisiana to thank for many of these dips. The state's bold Cajun spices are simply made for seafood — the reason many brands have embraced the tradition with their own crab dip imitations. Even Giant Eagle has dived headfirst into the trend, aiming to bring those rich flavors to the Midwest. The only problem is that the execution doesn't quite land.

You've probably heard that the Midwest isn't really known for its seafood (landlocked states rarely are). Perhaps that's why the Giant Eagle Cajun Crab Dip leans into a different category entirely: cheese. This is a thick pimiento cheese dip dressed up in a shellfish disguise. It's made up of cheddar cheese, cream cheese, and pimientos, just with a lump of imitation crab (aka pollock) incorporated throughout. Despite tasting creamy and familiar, the fishiness is mild at best, and the spices are also kept light. I expected a stronger homage to Cajun cooking and more noticeable bursts of red peppers.

It's a step up from Kroger's discombobulated half-salad, half-dip. And even as a cheese dip, it's solid. It's mild and approachable for anyone who doesn't have the stomach for strong seafood flavors. But as far as this specific taste test goes, Giant Eagle missed out on the briny depth and spice blend that makes a crab dip a crab dip.

Inland Market's dip is a dead ringer for Giant Eagle's Cajun-style dip. Once again, cream cheese, cheddar cheese, and pimientos make up the foundation. Imitation crab meat, made from pollock and/or whiting, is also the star protein. The two dips even share the same flavor profile, delivering the faintest whispers of a fishy undertone and next to no heat despite their supposed Louisiana roots. Aside from the differing tubs, the only way I could tell these two apart was Inland Market's lighter, whipped texture. This is its defining feature, and the sole reason it ranks above the previous offering.

This all came as a big shock to me. In the best possible way, I was judging this dip by its cover when I spotted it at BJ's Wholesale Club: the brand imagery, the sustainable promises, the fact that Inland Market calls itself a "premium" foods company. I really thought I had hooked something that was going to make a splash. So, that made it all the more surprising that it didn't use real crab meat in its recipe and relied so heavily on cheese instead. To me, that seems like a missed opportunity to play on its natural strengths as a seafood distributor.

I have to share that the tub does offer an alternative way to enjoy this dip. It states that "some like it hot" and gives instructions on how to warm it in the microwave, turning it into a warm and gooey queso-pimiento crossover. While it's delicious, it's still not fundamentally crabby enough.

Now we're getting somewhere. Kroger's traditional crab dip is simple yet gives off that classic crab dip vibe. It doesn't use 100% real crab, so don't get too excited. The supermarket saves some money by using bits of shellfish, but fusing them with another mystery jumble of either pollock, whiting, or a combination of the two. However, the dip does offer some other positive qualities that push it upstream in the ranking.

There are plenty of white and red crab-like chunks in the sea. Fish is clearly the main ingredient and the main focus. It mimics real crab almost to a tee, with that same mildly sweet flavor and a texture that's firm but not too rubbery. Supporting the meat is a mix of Neufchâtel cheese (which offers a similar taste and texture to that of cream cheese), sour cream, and a dressing made from oil, vinegar, egg yolk, and mustard flour. A seasoning blend featuring garlic and onion rounds it out. The result is a product highly reminiscent of a macaroni salad that swaps pasta for imitation crab. The dip even looks like a noodle-less version of the salad.

What I like most about this option is that it's light and lets the crab do all the talking. I appreciate the understated nature of the secondary ingredients, and the sheer volume of meat packed into the round container (even if it is mock meat).

My favorite Cajun-style dip out of the entire list is from Kroger. Who would have guessed? It takes after the store's traditional dip, stealing all its strengths and elevating them further with notes of actual Cajun spice — finally.

Let's get the similarities to Kroger's traditional take out of the way first. This flavor iteration holds just as much imitation crab meat, and it's made from the exact same fish protein amalgamation of crab, pollock, and/or whiting. It also shares that macaroni salad personality thanks to the continued use of Neufchâtel cheese and dressing (no sour cream this time around, though). Where it starts to venture into a dip all its own is with its quadrifecta of tomato paste, red peppers, hot sauce, and horseradish. With all of these at play, you better believe this one has some kick to it. The pepper taste is obvious. Then it simmers into a complex heat, rippled with smokiness, tanginess, and pungency all at once. It's chunky yet also cohesive, as the hunks of crab pair well with the creamy base. In some respects, it even reminded me of a roasted red pepper hummus, and I just know it would partner so well with a sturdy, overly salty tortilla chip.

All told, I was thoroughly impressed by this dip. Especially considering the fact that it comes from Kroger's standard store brand, not even Private Selection or Simple Truth. It just happened to get outmaneuvered by a few other crustacean-inspired creations.

Who was going to tell me that Aldi's dip selection is nearly as stacked as the one found at Trader Joe's? Apparently, I've been left out of the loop. The store's private brand, Park Street Deli, is slinging some seriously enticing tubs, including this crab rangoon dip.

While many other brands hone in on spiced Cajun flavors, this blend brings in some Asian influence (although crab rangoons are technically an American creation). And, as someone who can't help but tack a handful of crab rangoons onto my Chinese takeout order, I can definitely see the vision here. Cream cheese mixes with sour cream to form the base, both spiked by strong flavors of red peppers, chili peppers, onion, and garlic. Additionally, there's more meat than I have ever found stuffed inside a real-life rangoon. It's a surimi blend of pollock, whiting, and a trace amount of snow crabmeat (2% or less, to be exact). Altogether, it's rich and meaty, sweet and savory. All you need is a bag of wonton chips to pair them with, and you're all set with a crowd-pleasing seafood starter.

The unique nature of this offering elevated it above others like Kroger's Cajun crab dip. You also simply can't beat the price. The only thing I found odd about Aldi's rendition was its somewhat sharp citrusy aftertaste, presumably tied to the included lemon juice concentrate. You get used to it after a while, but I would be on board with nixing that particular ingredient.

I have to say, I was a bit hesitant about this selection from Superior Select — a deli brand under the Michigan-based Superior Foods umbrella. Horseradish is quite the aggressive ingredient. Even trace amounts have the power to clear out your sinuses and singe your taste buds. So, I worried it would commandeer this surf and surf dip and bully out the other ingredients. Luckily, that's not the case.

The acrid ingredient is obvious on the nose, but is immediately softer on the palate. Its bold flavors are balanced out by the remainder of the goopy, whipped mixture. Cream cheese balances its flavor and gives the dip its spreadable texture. As for the seafood, I get more of a shrimp taste than a crab one. Even the light pink coloring hints at the larger inclusion of shrimp. The crab, which is actually imitation (makes me wonder why the shrimp can be real but the crab can't?), is more understated. It's made up of pollock, whiting, and/or arrowtooth flounder — a new one we hadn't seen before.

The balance is strong with this one. Even though it's mostly the wrong kind of shellfish, there's plenty of meat swimming in the cream cheese. The horseradish defines its flavor, yet keeps it to a manageable level, and you even get an added zing from a cayenne pepper-based hot sauce. Like a shrimp cocktail dip, I liked it more than I thought I would. However, its lack of a bolder crab flavor prevented it from earning a top-tier spot.

This is the kind of dip I was expecting all along from Inland Market. After the Cajun-style letdown, I didn't think it would deliver. Yet, here we are. The brand even pulled out all the stops, marketing itself as a true Maryland-style dip. It's made with real blue swimming crabmeat, Maryland-style seasonings, and a trifecta of cream cheese, mayonnaise, and sharp cheddar cheese. Now that's what I'm talking about.

There's no denying this tub's fishy authenticity. Pop off the lid, and you're immediately transported to a saltwater marina. Aesthetically, it has some similarities to canned tuna, just more shredded. But the taste is indubitably crabby. Scooping it onto my pita chip, each bite was like a seafood-filled mush flavored with cheddar, paprika, pepper, and celery seed. It may not sound the most appetizing, but just trust me on this. It's everything you love about a classic seaside crab cake, just without the breadcrumb binder or pan-fried outer crust.

As was the case with the Inland Market Cajun crab dip, you can also choose to warm this one up and extract more of those cheesy flavors. I honestly don't think it needs it, though. It has a certain maritime charm to it, even just served cold. What I might suggest to dress it up a bit is a sprinkling of chives or green onions on top, or even a few shreds of nutty Parmesan cheese, all served on a crostini? Yes, please.

Ocean Legacy is all about sustainable, premium seafood products, and its commitment to quality shows in its crab dip. These tubs — which I found alongside Inland Market's dips at BJ's — are stuffed with 100% real crab meat, as well as multiple types of cheese and pimientos. However, it doesn't fall into the trap of becoming just another pimiento cheese dip. It still places the shredded crab front and center, and throws another kicker into the mix that makes all the difference: jalapeños.

Both cream cheese and Neufchâtel cheese team up in this dip. And, if that wasn't enough, it also tosses in sour cream and Parmesan cheese for even more creaminess and rich flavor. You won't find big chunks of crab hiding in the blend. The shreds are available throughout, coupled with bits of bright red pimiento peppers and jalapeño slices. Even in bites without jalapeño peppers, you still get that fresh flavor and light spice at the back of your throat. Plus, dried mustard, paprika, and other light seasonings add to the flavor depth.

You can enjoy Ocean Legacy's crab dip hot or cold, and honestly, you can't go wrong either way. Either route leads to deliciousness when you have a dip that satisfies all the necessary criteria. Creamy, crab-focused, versatile, rich, and briny with a unique spicy accent — it's everything you could ask for in a store-bought crab dip.

A crab dip is complex enough all by itself. From the meat (whether real or imitation) to the base of cream cheese, mayo, or whatever it may be, to the seasoning blend of choice, there's a lot going on. And as such, it needs to be paired with something more subtle. Enter: the pita chip. I tested all of the dips in one sitting, using the same pita chips across the board to get the best read on the quality and taste of the dip. As I mentioned, whether the crab was real or imitation wasn't an end-all, be-all factor. I was perfectly happy with a dip packed with imitation crab as long as it mirrored the texture and taste of the real thing. Some dips did manage to achieve this, though I did end up favoring a few recipes made with 100% real crabmeat.

That signature seafood taste was central to success. But I also looked for dips that balanced it out with a smooth and creamy base. Cream cheese served as the foundation for most, and I appreciated the added depth that came from incorporating other cheeses like cheddar or Neufchâtel. However, they couldn't lean too far into pimiento cheese territory (that's a taste test for a different day).

The last factor I looked at was seasonings. Many of the so-called Cajun-style dips played it far too safe with the spice. I wanted that unmistakable Old Bay essence — paprika, mustard, celery salt — to pair with the seafood. And what I ended up liking most was a few options that gave the recipe a unique twist with horseradish and jalapeños — spicing things up while still adhering to crab dip tradition.