The 16 Top Jerky Brands and Their Worst for Your Next Road Trip

Amid the array of gas station snacks — icy Slushees, zesty Takis, and greasy 7-Eleven taquitos — jerky stands out as a gourmet option. It’s one of the least processed foods available at rest stops, sharing this honor with Häagen-Dazs ice cream and ripe bananas. Its appeal lies in its durability during long drives, unlike a Quarter Pounder left in the heat of the dashboard. Jerky truly embodies U.S. roadside charcuterie, though the future of gas stations as the go-to for American jerky is uncertain.

Many cultures have rich traditions of dried meat that date back to before refrigeration. In South Africa, biltong remains a favorite; in Spain, savory tuna mojama graces tapas menus; Ethiopians enhance their quwanta with awaze spice, and Nigerians prepare kilishi with cayenne pepper. During my time in Bolivia, I savored some of the finest dried meat at Gustu, where chefs presented shredded llama meat alongside fried trout roe. The exceptional quality of that jerky in the Andes seemed fitting, considering the term “jerky” originates from the Quechua word ch’arki.

Unfortunately, this variety of dried meats is rarely found at American gas stations, which once offered some of the best jerky selections across the country. Ironically, the gas station experience transforms one of the world’s most diverse culinary heritages into a mass-produced, thoughtless product. It’s simply commodity beef in a bag, reflecting a nation accustomed to commodity beef on their plates.

Consumer preferences are evolving. The rise of high-protein diets, along with truckers and other customers seeking gourmet foods from ethically raised animals — or even vegan alternatives — has fueled the growth of artisanal jerky producers, now making their mark in upscale grocery stores, pharmacies, and more. With relatively low barriers to entry, making, storing, and shipping jerky is simpler than dealing with steaks or foie gras, resulting in countless small-scale jerky makers flourishing on platforms like Etsy and other e-commerce sites.

This is a comprehensive overview of packaged jerkies. To enhance diversity and accessibility, we included not just beef but also bison, turkey, chicken, pork, trout, tuna, seaweed, and mushrooms. The only brand that appears more than twice is Jack Link’s from Wisconsin, which unfortunately is the most prevalent despite its mediocre quality. We've also highlighted several options that are more commonly found in Whole Foods or available through Amazon, reflecting both practicality and culinary variety. While jerky remains a staple at gas stations, travelers might find better quality options online, tailored to their preferences.

A Culinary and Taxonomic Approach to Jerky

Some jerky varieties clearly outperform others, but what's crucial is understanding what you desire from these snacks — whether it’s heat, saltiness, chewiness, or sweetness — and whether jerky is the best choice for your specific road trip.

In many cured meat products, fat is essential for imparting rich flavors and textures. If you've savored the floral, nutty notes of Iberico ham, it's thanks to the pigs' acorn diet and their rich intramuscular fat. The thick white fat marbling is also why thin slices of prosciutto can almost dissolve in your mouth at room temperature. In an air-conditioned vehicle, a pack of ham should remain good for several hours — comfortably enduring a trip from New York to Boston after being opened.

In the realm of animal jerkies, producers tend to favor lean cuts to enhance shelf stability. In other words, the trend of wagyu luxury hasn’t significantly impacted the jerky scene. Jerky isn't focused on discerning the subtleties of fatty hanger steak, iron-rich heart, or aged ribeyes. This isn’t necessarily negative; while on the road, the dryness of jerky offers a certain convenience — you can reach into the bag and eat without fuss, avoiding messes like greasy mortadella or Cheetos dust on your steering wheel.

The lean nature of jerky often results in a relatively neutral flavor profile. The distinctiveness comes more from textures that can range from leathery, like cowhide, to bouncy, similar to Taiwanese boba, particularly with turkey jerky. The allure of jerky also lies in added ingredients such as garlic or chilies. It's worth considering that even if you wouldn't request a $65 steak with teriyaki sauce, you might appreciate a so-called “original” flavored jerky, which could have brown sugar, smoke, or soy, yet can sometimes taste a bit bland or even musty, reminiscent of an air-out session in a beach house at the start of the season.

For a jerky that truly reflects the flavors of its original ingredients, I often lean towards non-beef options. Certain fish jerkies maintain their oils and oceanic essence with stunning clarity, while mushroom and seaweed jerkies convey a robust earthiness. Some might debate the inclusion of fungi and kelp, as the USDA discusses poultry, venison, beef, bear, and even whales in its definitions of jerky and food safety, but doesn’t mention vegetables, which spoil less rapidly than raw meats. Given that we consider oat and rice milks to be legitimate alternatives to dairy, it would be a mistake to exclude items like dried shiitakes from jerky discussions, especially as more people seek to reduce animal product consumption.

The top two jerkies:

Urban Cowboy vegan jerky: This Austin-based brand produces some of the finest jerky in any category, and currently, it’s my favorite meat-free option. It’s somewhat surprising that such a standout vegan product hails from Texas, a state known for its beef industry. The dried mushrooms mimic the chewy, satisfying texture of excellent Cuban vaca frita, and the sriracha flavor strikes a perfect balance of heat and acidity with a hint of smokiness. The salty black pepper variant, on the other hand, allows a subtle mushroom flavor to shine through. (For those who prefer a chewier texture, the packaging suggests storing the jerky in a dark, dry area to enhance its firmness.) Silicon Valley’s faux meat producers will always struggle to replicate real hamburgers, but this brand proves that carefully dried high-quality mushrooms can offer far more complexity than most standard sirloins. Available on Amazon or at Whole Foods in the Austin area.

Buc-ee’s mesquite beef jerky: Considered one of the finest jerkies in America, this treat hails from the ultimate Texas road-trip stop. Dinogo Dallas & Houston’s Amy McCarthy dubs Buc-ee’s the greatest convenience store ever. With a satisfying medium chew, it gives your jaw a good workout. The thick slabs of beef, reminiscent of silver dollars, offer an aroma blending fire-roasted cumin, well-aged beef, and smoky hardwood notes. While I can't comment on the animals' upbringing, it's clear we should aim for more plant-based meals. After sampling countless subpar jerkies, discovering one that genuinely embodies the flavor of its source — reminiscent of a smoky Hill Country barbecue or a classic Southwest steakhouse — was refreshing. Enjoyed in moderation while driving, this beef holds more promise than a feast of oversized porterhouses. Available at Buc-ee’s locations in Texas or through Amazon.

Mid-tier finishers, all of which are quite good:

Pan’s vegan mushroom jerky: These shiitake mushroom jerkies truly taste and look like mushrooms. The so-called Thai-flavored variety lacks any genuine Southeast Asian notes, which I find perfectly fine, as they shine on their own. Each bite bursts with sweet, earthy goodness, accompanied by a touch of mushroom oil. They’re shiitakes that feel like prunes.

Texas Best Smokehouse bison peppered jerky: This jerky ranks among the chewiest and most leathery options available. The bison is sliced thin, akin to high-quality Spanish or Italian hams, emitting a delightful salami-like aroma. The standout feature here is its long, lingering finish, characterized by iron and pepper notes. The spices create a tingling sensation on the tongue, reminiscent of the numbing effect of Sichuan peppercorns. Available at the original Texas Best Smokehouse in Tyler, Texas, or through mail order.

Old Trapper peppered jerky: This outstanding Oregon-based brand delivers a satisfying medium chew, with just the right amount of sweetness balanced by salt. Each piece is dotted with bold peppercorns that offer a mild kick and a refreshing lemony fragrance. This might be the premier mass-market brand found at gas stations and rest areas; I recommend this variety over Jack Link’s.

Good Jerky habanero trout: Incredibly oceanic, the aroma envelops you as soon as you open the bag. The tender flesh easily separates and lavishly coats your tongue with rich oils. Keep in mind the ultra-low sodium; a dash of soy or salt can enhance the flavors. Undoubtedly the most fragrant jerky I tried; those who dislike the scent of fresh fish might find the strong high-tide aroma overwhelming. Available through Amazon.

Stryve Biltong: This South African treat stands apart from American jerkies due to its air-drying process rather than slow oven dehydration. The Stryve brand offers a unique texture that’s both dry and pleasantly chewy. If you enjoy Italian bresaola, this will likely appeal to you. The neutral meat lacks distinct flavor, emphasizing instead the robust scent of cloves, followed by a thrilling chile heat that lingers. This is also the least sweet of all the jerkies.

Kaimana teriyaki tuna jerky: Ideal for those who prefer non-oily fish jerkies, like the trout variety mentioned earlier. A subtle maritime fragrance wafts from the bag, and the soft flesh offers a sweetness that nearly borders on excessive before the balanced saltiness and savory tuna notes bring it all together. Available via Amazon.

Perky Jerky’s turkey jerky: The springiest of all the jerkies, featuring a supple QQ texture that's just a touch softer than a gumdrop. The flavor is sweet — possibly too sweet for some palates — with a mild saltiness and a noticeable pepper kick. This is quite enjoyable if you can handle the sweetness.

Alaska Smokehouse king salmon jerky: If you're after fish jerky that boasts the chewiness and substance of beef varieties, while also appreciating the earthy, smoky notes of salmon, this is for you. It’s nearly free of oil or fishiness and packs a serious salty punch. Available through Amazon.

Jack Link’s sweet & hot jerky: A hint of iron leads into a moderate smokiness, culminating in a powerful heat. The sweetness is pronounced, balanced by a chile-infused burn that lingers. The chew is just a notch tougher than tender. For a meatier experience, try the teriyaki “tender bites.” Both are distinctly average, reasonably enjoyable jerky options. These represent the better selections from Jack Link’s.

The worst:

Jack Link’s original: This jerky is akin to sugar-and-smoke flavored cardboard that dissolves into mush. It stands out as one of the worst among the easily found jerkies, alongside Chef’s Cut.

Akua kelp jerky: Tastes like soil with a hint of lime. Quite dreadful. If you’re looking for the flavor of seaweed, I recommend sticking to quality nori sheets. Available via Amazon.

Chef’s Cut Korean barbecue chicken jerky: This chicken breast has been processed to the point where it turns into a gritty paste on your tongue. While Korean barbecue typically celebrates pork and beef, this jerky mixes generic heat with cloying sweetness, which may misrepresent the true artistry of this grilling style.

Chef’s Cut Asian-style beef teriyaki: There’s no need to subject yourself to this dreadful dried meat. The beef, thick like tree bark, initially feels substantial but quickly collapses into what can only be described as wet sludge. It has a texture reminiscent of cotton candy combined with chicken liver pâté.

Slant Shack classic: This grass-fed jerky brand, launched by a Columbia University alum and refined by “nine friends in an apartment,” was reputedly delicious in its early days, according to a coworker. However, since its acquisition by the Great American Turkey Co., my recent tasting revealed some of the worst dried meat I’ve encountered. The beef is overly sweet and powdery, as if a cursed cow had turned to dust and was later reformed into a meat block. Truly unpleasant.

Naya-Cheyenne is a multimedia illustrator and designer from Miami, now based in Brooklyn.