7 Aldi Fall Cheeses, Ranked Worst To Best

Happy Fall-di to all who celebrate! That's right: Autumn has arrived at Aldi, and along with it, a whole harvest of new and returning items to try. It's the store's annual orange washing, complete with the obligatory pummeling of pumpkin flavors. Other fall notes aren't forgotten, either, and all the bases are covered with picks like maple pecan dessert dip, apple fritters, and Fall Harvest macaroni and cheese. But there's also an unexpected corner of Aldi that falls under autumn's spell: the cheese section.

Yes, even the store's dairy inventory is getting into the seasonal spirit with some new faces of fromage (quite literally). The store's Emporium Selection private label brand has unleashed a spooky quartet of Halloween monster cheeses, from a scary Pumpkin Spice cheese to a Bat Knit Crazy Cheddar. If that wasn't enough, October 14 also brought a trio of fall-inspired Dutch goudas, featuring flavors of apple pie, honey, and maple syrup whiskey.

The collection is very Jekyll and Hyde, representing two very different sides of fall: creepy and cozy. I love that contrast, so I obviously couldn't resist sampling the collection for myself. I picked up all seven autumn-inspired cheeses to taste and rank. But I didn't just compare flavors and the overall quality of the cheese; I also considered how well each one lived up to its fall-inspired theme. While I felt tricked at times, other fall cheeses from Aldi were certified treats.

The mention of "blue" and "cheese" in the same sentence may have stinky cheese skeptics turning up their noses. But don't worry — this block isn't blue cheese-related at all. Blue fenugreek is actually the name of an herb with a sweet and nutty aroma, and it's joined by honey to create an intriguing, fall-coded take on gouda. It's specifically labeled as Dutch gouda, which adds to its authenticity given the cheese's origins in the Netherlands.

It actually smells like honey, and tastes like it, too. But to me, there's something off about this cheese. I gave it a few nibbles and finally realized what it reminded me of: mead. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it. The alcoholic beverage mead is made by fermenting honey diluted with water. Given the addition of honey here and the fact that gouda also undergoes its own kind of fermentation during production, it's not inconceivable that the two would share some similar tasting notes. The cheese almost has a sweetened honey liqueur-type flavor, and I think it's only made more pronounced by the toasty notes of blue fenugreek.

While I thought the mild, creamy flavor of gouda could withstand just about any add-in, it turns out this wasn't a particularly great match. In the end, it was easily my least favorite of the autumn cheeses I tried.

Death by garlic doesn't sound like a bad way to go (it certainly beats sprouting fangs and spending an eternity dodging sunlight). Aldi was ready to put that theory to the test with a cheese that sounds more like a threat than a snack. It starts as a standard cheddar, but it's then bludgeoned with black garlic. If you're unfamiliar, that's essentially garlic that's been aged under controlled heat and humidity until it turns soft, sticky, and — you guessed it — black. That explains why this cheese sports a color I've never really seen on cheese before. It's a darker brown with lighter speckles scattered throughout. Honestly, it reminded me more of a Clif Bar than a block of cheddar.

Surprisingly, its aroma is pretty mild, but I bit into it and thought, "Yep: there's the garlic." At the same time, it's not terribly pungent, and the flavor is fairly smooth overall for something riddled with allium. It's more rich and sweet than harsh, which is what you would expect from black garlic. Paired with the milder, tangy taste of cheddar, it works pretty well. As for the texture, it leans more towards the soft side, hinting that it's a younger cheese.

Overall, I liked it — and I know exactly which block I'm reaching for if ever there's a vampire outbreak. But it's not the most outstanding cheese I've ever had. I certainly wouldn't say I'm dying for more, so it comes near the bottom.

Putting a Halloween spin on a phrase that isn't exactly family-friendly, Aldi landed on the name "Bat Knit Crazy Cheddar." So, what makes it so "crazy" so to speak? Well, as far as I can tell, the wildest thing about it is the sweater-wearing bat on the casing, who looks to be under the influence of a hypnosis spell. Other than that, the cheese underneath is a standard cheddar — the most classic kind of cheese in the taste test.

It's actually noted as an aged cheddar, which usually means it's aged for around six to 12 months. However, I'd call it more semi-aged. You can certainly tell it's more mature than the previous garlic cheddar thanks to a sharper, more pronounced taste. But the texture is a little gummier than I would like — more fudgy than firm. There are some spots that look like they could offer some of that crystallization you find in aged cheeses (those are calcium spots not mold). But there's not much crunch to them, which admittedly drove me a little batty. It's one of my favorite parts of a well-aged cheddar, and it's missing.

It's still a good cheese, especially when you consider the Aldi price tag. But there were other options that were of equal quality and put a little more effort into the fall theme. The store could have slapped just about any name on this casing and sold it during any season.

This cheese suffers from the same problem as the Bat Knit Crazy Cheddar. At first, it sounds like a pick packed to the brim with autumnal notes. It's another Dutch gouda that's been infused with a maple syrup-flavored whiskey, and according to Aldi, that means you should expect "slightly sweet and woody flavors." It had me ready to head outside, build a campfire, and cozy up under the open sky. But while I was excited for this one, it ended up letting me down.

First, it really doesn't taste like maple — like hardly at all. I kept going back for bite after bite, hoping to catch even the slightest glimpse of that promised maple sweetness, but to no avail. The closest I got was after handling the cheese; I could smell just a faint trace of maple lingering on my fingers. But somehow, that same flavor never made it to my taste buds.

So why does this cheese jump our eccentric bat friend and several others? Well, because it's still a really good gouda, even if it's essentially unadorned. It's extra smooth and milky to the point of being buttery. At room temperature, it also becomes noticeably oily, but I actually didn't mind. If anything, it makes the cheese seem even richer, and I actually enjoyed the slick mouthfeel it developed as it softened. All in all, it's a quality cheese, as long as you ignore the maple whiskey mentions.

I wouldn't have guessed the apple pie flavor to be my favorite of the Dutch goudas, but here we are. This feels like two worlds colliding — two worlds that were never really supposed to meet. We have the world of apple pie, America's sweetheart when it comes to spiced fall desserts. Then we have the world of artisanal European cheeses, steeped in centuries of tradition. It's a fascinating encounter, to say the least.

If you're wondering how Aldi even makes an apple pie-flavored cheese, it combines apple with cinnamon and a wildcard ingredient of coconut rum. It doesn't exactly taste as advertised, but it's definitely still giving fall vibes. Cinnamon is the most prominent flavor, which is obviously a key part of apple pie, so I'm glad to see it represented. The apple flavor, though, is a little more buried. I noticed it was most concentrated near the rind, which, by the way, does kind of look like the skin of a green apple. I'm not exactly sure how coconut or rum works its way into an apple pie recipe — that's certainly not how my family makes it — but I didn't mind a little bit of that sweet tropical flavor against the cheese. It's also just as soft and creamy as the other two goudas I tried, so it has that going for it, too.

Overall, it's surprisingly good. It's not entirely what I expected or as good as it could have been, but it has potential.

I didn't find the Jack-O-Lantern on this casing to be particularly scary. But I am a bit frightened of a cheese that's meant to taste like pumpkin spice. Apparently, we're pumpkin-spicing everything nowadays, because even the cheese isn't safe. There are real spices baked in here, too, including cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. That means cloves and allspice are missing from that classic pumpkin spice combination, but the trio still drives home those warm fall flavors, which are all incorporated into a Wensleydale cheese.

Now, I eat a lot of fromage, and this was a new one for me. I had to dive into the depths of Google to learn more about it. Turns out, it's a cheese hailing from North Yorkshire, England, and its two defining characteristics are that it's creamy and crumbly. I had my doubts, but it turned out to be a really good match for these particular spices.

This almost feels like a dessert chèvre. It's not quite that spreadable, but the consistency is still similar, and there's that tanginess and light citrus flavor to it that reminds me of a goat cheese. A hint of sugar makes it sweet, and the spices sit on top of it all, with nutmeg as the most prominent, followed by cinnamon, then ginger. It's tasty and, better yet, it's interesting. I think it would make a great centerpiece on a sweet-leaning charcuterie board, even if one Aldi fall cheese topped it.

I don't know about you, but green cheese in my house typically ends up in the trash. More often than not, that means it's past its expiration date. This time, though? It came that way.

At least it's a pretty green, and not quite the menacing shade of Frankenstein's monster. It also hints at its inclusion of dried sage, though there's some natural coloring in there too to give it that tint. The base here is actually Derby cheese, yet another British variety. It has some of that familiar sharpness and tang of a cheddar, but its texture is a little different. It starts out fairly crumbly, then almost melts into something creamy and buttery on your tongue. And the sage is surprisingly subtle. It doesn't smack you in the face as soon as you sink your teeth in, but rather leaves you with a pleasantly earthy aftertaste. I really like that contrast of the richer cheese with the subdued fresh herb, making for an elevated bite.

The whole thing feels far less science experiment (as I was expecting) and much more artisan. It ended up being my favorite of all the Aldi fall cheeses I tried. I could see it pairing especially well with crisp apples or pears, salty crackers, and a little fig jam. Plus, once everyone gets over the green color, I have a feeling this one will disappear pretty quickly — and not because someone threw it in the garbage.

Aldi has plenty of cheeses that would work well on your fall charcuterie board, as cheeses studded with cranberries or smoked with applewood also sit on its shelves. But I wanted to concentrate this taste test on cheeses that aren't available year-round, so I ended up with seven to sample. This included four Halloween cheeses and three Dutch goudas, all from Aldi's Emporium Selection gourmet cheese brand.

I tried each one by itself and with a simple cracker to get a good feel for its flavors. First and foremost, I took note of the variety of each cheese and where it comes from. That also included checking its consistency to see if it matched what I expected, as well as its base flavor to make sure it was hitting all the right notes. For example, I wanted a cheddar that still had that recognizable tang and was smooth and forgiving under a cheese knife.

Finally, I got into the auxiliary fall flavors and the ingredients used to achieve them. This is where the question of how well each cheese fit into the autumn theme came into play. Did it actually taste as advertised, or were its name and packaging a bit of a stretch? Really, a cheese needed two things to land high on my list: good quality, and a true commitment to all things fall.