Can vegan mac and cheese beat the classic? We tried 6 boxes to find out.

In the 1980s, you couldn’t turn on your rabbit-eared TV without encountering one of those Folger’s commercials that now seem delightfully campy. The setting shifted, but the premise was always the same: Unsuspecting coffee drinkers at upscale restaurants had their usual fine-pedigreed brew swapped for a cup made with instant crystals. A “hidden camera” revealed them raving about the drink and registering surprise when told about the secret switcheroo.

It seems you could pull off something similar today with boxed macaroni and cheese (probably, though, without the massive shoulder pads and helmet hair). When Kraft, the company whose safety-vest-hued noodles are the category’s orange standard, announced last year that it was coming out with a vegan version, we were intrigued. How would the nondairy iteration (which comes in a white cheddar and original flavor versions) stack up against the classic? While we were at it, we figured, we would see whether the reigning brand would trump the other plant-based boxed noodles you can find on grocery shelves.

We gathered up a handful of popular, widely available vegan products — including the two new Kraft ones as well as the regular-dairy standard-bearer — and put them to the test. Our panel of six tasters (including two vegetarians) rated each sample in a blind test, awarding each a score from 1 to 10. (For the tasting, we prepared according to the instructions on the box, using oat milk where it called for plant-based milk and Earth Balance for the plant-based butter; the regular Kraft was made with regular milk and butter.) Our verdict? Well, we were as surprised as a bunch of instant-coffee-drinking dupes.

Here’s how these boxes stacked up:

This brand offered a slightly different format than the others: The pasta came precooked in a plastic pouch, as did the cheese sauce. Instead of the usual boiling and mixing, you just combine the two in a skillet. But convenience comes at a price, apparently, because this one was a complete dud. Five of our six tasters gave this the lowest score possible (1), and their comments were about as vehement as it gets. A darker orange hue than the others didn’t appeal, for starters. “Looks like Mac and cheese scraped off a sidewalk after three days in the sun,” one said. Several seemed incredulous that this was a substance meant for human ingestion. “Might be the worst thing I’ve ever tasted,” said one. “If plastic were edible this would be it,” said another tester. One offered a succinct assessment: “No!”

Even in a sea of vivid noodles, Daiya stood out. As in, you could probably locate it in the dark, according to the panel. “Scary orange,” “neon yellow,” “orange paint” were terms testers employed to describe its looks. And let us count the additional turnoffs, shall we? A “sticky,” “odd” texture, for one. Oh, and there were the complaints about a “metallic” aftertaste, which one taster likened to a “creamy canned soup — if it expired.” Two members of our panel actually used the word “horrid.” Jinx.

Note that this entrant was the only other brand (along with the Upton’s) to deviate from the powdered-cheese format that most boxed brands use; it came with a baggie of premade sauce to combine with the noodles. Since both came in at the bottom of the heap, maybe the traditional route is superior? In that case, perhaps don’t discount the brand entirely, since Daiya does have a powdered-cheese version coming out soon.

For years, Annie’s organic mac and cheese, a widely available alternative to the ubiquitous Blue Box, seemed like the grown-up at the kids’ table. Its vegan version, though, wouldn’t win this boring guest any repeat invites — but at least it didn’t offend. Tasters weren’t impressed with its “thin” sauce and forgettable profile. “Doesn’t have any identifiable character,” noted one. “Flavor isn’t sharp enough,” complained another. “Kind of muddy-tasting, if mud tasted like nothing.”

This slightly upscale mac (thanks to its more natural color and the shell-shaped pasta) got mixed reviews. A couple people found it to be “nice and creamy,” but others complained that it was merely oily. One taster detected a “nutty” note and said it was a “decent approximation” of cheese. Still, we were stuck in Blandsville: “I’d want so much chili crisp or kimchi to liven up this baby!”

Kudos to our taste testers and their discerning taste buds (not to mention their vivid recollections of their childhood and college sustenance): Every one of them pegged this as the Kraft O.G., with a couple citing those distinctive tubular noodles and “richer” mouthfeel. “Now this is the fake orange color I’m looking for!” enthused one. “Tastes like childhood,” reminisced another. But the collective judgment shows that sometimes, things you loved as a kid just don’t hold up. The tasters found the liquidy sauce “tasteless” (as in bland, not crass) and “boring.” “I would believe you if you said it was just pasta with orange food coloring.”

Turns out, the new vegan kid on the block showed up its longtime forebear, with the panel awarding this version a higher score than the original. Interestingly, it wasn’t exactly that they were fooled into thinking there was actual cheese in the mix (as one put it, “all it’s missing is the subtle richness of real dairy”). But many thought the sample had more going on, flavorwise, than most of the other bites they had sampled. Several judges sussed out a sweetness that they enjoyed. “Like a sweet, autumn creamy pasta,” said one. “Reminds me of brown butter,” was how another pegged the off-savory edge. A few praised its “nutty” flavor.

The spiral-shaped noods proved to be an asset for this standout. “Fun to have curly pasta,” enthused one taster. And the shape allowed for the sauce to cling nicely, one noted, unlike on some of the others, where thin coatings had little to grip. “I like the chew,” said a fan. Also putting it above the competition was a more sophisticated vibe, thanks to its natural-looking white-cheddar-like color and what several people thought was a just-right amount of salt. Tasters appreciated that it had a little “tang” and sharpness. “Maybe a little garlicky?” one suggested. And it didn’t make some crave a condiment to liven things up. “I could eat this on its own, which is saying something,” said one. “This tastes more elevated than the others — fancier, which I like,” one summed up.