4 Bob Evans Store-Bought Side Dishes To Buy And 4 To Skip

Bob Evans holds a special place in my heart. Not only was the restaurant chain born in my home state of Ohio, but it was also my very first place of employment. I have fond memories of serving homestyle meals and all-day breakfast platters to chatty customers — positive memories that outweigh the not-so-glamorous moments, like my uncanny ability to spill maple syrup straight into my apron pocket. You can't even imagine the sticky mess.

Syrup mishaps aside, the atmosphere has remained cozy and inviting, even through a more recent rebranding. But the real draw has always been the farm-fresh food — a tradition Bob Evans has upheld for 75 years. Naturally, this commitment to quality carries over into its booming retail business as well, where it sells its fresh sausage, hash browns, and a stacked lineup of side dishes to grocers nationwide. Perhaps you've seen the latter in the store, decorated with badges claiming them to be America's No. 1 refrigerated side dishes. They very well might be, although I think I will be the judge of that.

Who better to taste and evaluate some of Bob Evans' store-bought dishes than an Ohio local and a former waitress? I was eager to get a glimpse into the other side of the company's operations and determine which of these famous store-bought sides was worth a purchase, and conversely, which were not. I rounded up a collection of sides (the majority of which were some variation of mashed potatoes) and got to tasting.

Unlike the mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese, glazed apples are not a side dish Bob Evans serves in-restaurant. It didn't offer them years ago during my waitressing years, and it doesn't have them listed on its menu now. It's a real shame, too, because they're a big treat for your taste buds.

If you've been to Cracker Barrel and had the chain's Southern fried apples, then you already know what to expect. This version from Bob's has a very similar taste. The real sliced apples are coated with a sweet film of butter and glazed apple seasoning, complete with hints of sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It turns out just like goopy apple pie filling — more of a dessert than a side if you ask me — but I'm not complaining. I would serve the tender apples with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce for an indulgent treat. If you do want to add them to the dinner table, they would also pair with a thick-cut pork chop or pork tenderloin for a sweet and savory combo.

I will note, the fried apples come in a much smaller container compared to the other side dishes. It's about half the size, yet the same price (apples cost more than potatoes, go figure). So just be aware of that when you're purchasing, and double up if you need to in order to feed a larger family or a crowd.

Bob Evans was built on country-style sausage. It was the company's original offering, and it continues to be its most iconic. But its original mashed potatoes are an undeniably close second. They arrived in stores in 1997, alongside macaroni and cheese, and simply never left. As a Midwesterner, I come across them all the time at nearly every grocery store I visit. They don't have a small presence either. I often find many of the white and blue containers ripe for the picking — and even more seem to materialize right around the holidays.

Clearly, people are buying and enjoying these taters. But after giving them a try, I couldn't help but think they were more of a convenience thing than a flavor thing, because I found them to be just alright. Even though they do have a homemade essence to them — clearly made from real, fresh potatoes — they come off bland and dry. It tastes as though someone quickly and haphazardly mashed up potatoes and slid them into a plastic tub, even though a dairy blend of milk and butter, as well as salt and pepper, is thrown in. I was tempted to whip out my mixer to fluff them up and then break into my spice cabinet to give them a much-needed flavor nudge.

The original mashed potatoes aren't necessarily distasteful. They simply seem more like a base than a finished product. So for that reason, I would say to avoid them in favor of one of the chain's many other potato flavors.

If given a choice between a loaded potato and an unloaded one, why would anyone choose the latter? In the same way you'd instinctively answer yes to the question, "Would you like fries with that?", you'd just as quickly agree to anything being served loaded. It's practically a reflex. After all, additions like sour cream, cheese, and bacon bits can only make something better, and that's certainly the case with Bob Evans' mashed potatoes.

As I microwaved this tub, which held three to four servings of loaded mashed potatoes, the unmistakable aroma of bacon wafted through the air. The bacon bits presented the strongest flavor on the palate as well. Their smokiness (enhanced by smoke flavoring) permeated every bite of smooth and velvety sour cream-laced taters. Of course, they were also joined by tangs of onion, chives, and the rare sun-dried tomato. This ingredient diversity and spot-on texture helped this batch outshine the original mashed potatoes by a mile.

The only downside is that I was expecting the cheesiness to be more front and center. Both cheddar and pepper Jack cheeses are stirred into the recipe, though you don't get a lot of those sharp or buttery flavors. I really only noticed a tiny, tiny bit of spice that nipped at the back of my throat, which I attributed to the jalapeño peppers hiding in the pepper Jack. If I could have had a bit more of that upfront and another handful of cheddar, this tub would have been golden.

Hiding among the flurry of classic white mashed potatoes, I also found tubs of mashed sweet potatoes plastered with the Bob Evans logo. You may be tempted to pick it up and pass it off as your own recipe at a holiday dinner or a work luncheon. With only a five-minute prep time in the microwave or a quick heating session on the stove, it would make for the easiest side dish ever — and with next to no cleanup. However, I'm warning you now that you may not want to do that.

There's something just a bit off about these potatoes. They are made with fresh sweet potatoes with no artificial flavors, yet they scream unnatural to me. Each spoonful is inedible — like it's a substance that I'm not supposed to be eating. I think the add-ins are to blame, since I can tell that the whipped potatoes have a natural sweetness to them, but it's masked by a taste that's less appealing. They're flavored with skim milk, brown sugar, butter, salt, and a touch of spice. The cardboard sleeve does not specify exactly which spices are involved. I would venture to guess cinnamon and nutmeg are at play. Whatever the spice combo is, though, it makes the potatoes taste more like a scented fall candle than a scrumptious side dish.

I would recommend sticking to what Bob Evans does best: classic mashed potatoes. Take the time to make your mashed sweet potatoes from scratch, or better yet, pass off that responsibility to someone else.

Garlic is a magic ingredient. It's one of the special ones that draws people out from every corner of your house just to see what you have cooking. Paired with mashed potatoes, it should be an absolute knockout of a dish. Bob Evans' version is pretty good — certainly worthy of a buy, though one small tweak could have made it so much better.

While the packaging touts the use of real garlic, in addition to no artificial colors or flavors, the only mention of it on the ingredient list comes in the form of garlic powder. Womp womp. It's not wrong. Garlic powder is, in fact, real garlic. But it offers a more one-dimensional taste that leans into just the pungency. I would have preferred Bob Evans to go the extra mile and include oven-roasted garlic instead. It would have elevated the entire tub with a deeper, richer, and slightly sweeter taste.

Aside from these garlic woes, it's not a bad batch of mashed potatoes. Although they looked extra soupy straight out of the microwave, a quick stir put them into creamy territory, with just a few potato chunks here and there (which I personally like — it makes them feel more homestyle and nostalgic). They also have a good amount of saltiness — not too much, not too little. So, they're far from a lost cause and are certainly worthy of a spot at your dinner table.

Bob Evans' director of manufacturing operations, Chris Avery, has noted in interviews that the company's ready-to-eat mashed potatoes are made predominantly with the russet variety, even though a few yellow and red potatoes tend to sneak in as well. But the company also ventures away from the norm to offer a product that specifically celebrates red skin spuds. It comes in a container just like all the others, which notes that it serves four people.

I couldn't wait to dig into this one. One of my all-time favorite quick dishes to make is a batch of petite red potatoes, sauteed with plenty of garlic and then tossed with coarse salt and chopped parsley. The subtle sweetness of red-skinned potatoes makes them perfect for cooking. Plus, this Bob Evans tub folds in buttermilk, which we all know is the ultimate recipe enhancer. So, my taste buds were primed for something tasty, and unfortunately, the mash didn't deliver. Fresh from the microwave, the texture turned out a smidgeon crumbly, and the taste was nearly nonexistent. That is, aside from an earthiness that was somehow stronger here than in any of the russet-based blends.

I was disappointed, to say the least. As was the case with the original mashed potatoes, I felt the need to doctor these up and get more flavor out of the purchase. But putting in that much effort kind of defeats the purpose of a "ready-to-eat" product, don't you think?

These are Bob Evans mashed potatoes at their best. All the pieces come together here to create a side dish that will make you want to go back for seconds — maybe even thirds.

They begin yet again with humble, fresh potatoes. Presumably, they're mostly russet again; both the taste and coloring would back up that assumption. As the name implies, sour cream and chives are the main ingredient add-ins, though a dairy blend of milk and butter and a pinch of salt are thrown in as well. Like the garlic potatoes, they seemed runny at first, but then they settled into a soft and fluffy texture. The sour cream makes them extra luscious, and this is the first time I really noticed any kind of buttery notes in Bob Evans' potatoes. Overall, the pristine consistency is paired with a subtle yet satisfying taste. Then, the chives really help to seal the deal. Just as they do in a bag of salty chips, they add a freshness and gentle pungency to the recipe.

This entire tub is understated yet full-flavored, and I appreciate its versatility as well. I could see them saddling up nicely to a plate of kielbasa. They would pair seamlessly with a pot roast or more elevated prime rib. Or you could really play into Bob Evans' comfort food roots with a fried chicken, buttery gravy, and a sour cream and chive mashed potatoes feast.

In addition to potatoes of any kind, macaroni and cheese is a core food group here in the Midwest. So, one might say that the Bob Evans retail line has all its bases covered. It knows its audience and plays to its strengths as an Ohio-based farm beaming with hospitality.

The macaroni and cheese comes in a tub that feeds two to three people. It also touts its use of 100% real cheese, real milk, and no artificial preservatives. The pasta of choice is classic elbow noodles, and they emerge from the microwave with that kind of gummy, cheesy look to them. It's a standard bowl of mac and cheese that I wouldn't turn down if it were placed in front of me. But it's not the kind of cheesy mac that would be the star of the potluck, nor is it one I would seek out again.

The noodles cook to the right tender texture. It's the cheese that drops the ball. It's a blend of both an American-based processed cheese spread and cheddar club cheese (another type of processed cheese spread). It ends up tasting like a mild-tasting cross between American cheese and Cheez Whiz. I hate to betray a local Ohio company, but I think I prefer the famed Stouffer's frozen macaroni and cheese to this — even if it does take longer to make from frozen.

In Columbus, Ohio, near where Bob Evans is based, there is a strong brand presence in all of my local grocery stores. So I was able to round up all of these selections with just one stop at my nearest Giant Eagle. To keep things consistent, I prepared each item in the microwave, though stovetop instructions are also provided on the packaging. Each side dish took roughly five to six minutes to heat through, with a pause about halfway to stir. As they cooked, I paid close attention to the aromas released, followed by the texture that emerged once they were fully heated.

For the mashed potatoes (both traditional and sweet), I was looking for a soft, fluffy consistency rather than anything gummy or dry. For the macaroni and cheese, I wanted something extra cheesy with tender noodles, and for the apples, they needed to have a soft bite that wasn't slimy or mushy.

Lastly, I moved on to the taste. I looked for products that matched their description to a tee, had a nice, cohesive flavor, and functioned as a versatile side dish that could easily pair with a wide range of meals. Based on all of the above, I made a decision on whether or not it was a Bob Evans side that should be skipped or celebrated.