The brief: test affordable supermarket tinned tomato soups to see which ones are worth stocking the pantry with over winter. The result? Read on.
It’s time to take another look at tinned tomato soup. It’s a cheap, comforting, childhood staple – but what happens when you remove the nostalgia and the accompanying cheese toastie?
For American pop artist Andy Warhol, who became known for his screen prints of Campbell’s soup cans, the memories were enough: “Many an afternoon at lunchtime, Mom would open a can of Campbell’s for me because that’s all we could afford; I love it to this day,” he was quoted saying.
Warhol transformed soup cans into a cultural icon, but this was no 15 minutes of fame: the product simmered with historic significance long before the cans’ first exhibition in a Los Angeles gallery.
Tomato soup was the first soup to be condensed and sold in cans by Campbell’s in Los Angeles in 1897. The Rosella Preserving & Manufacturing Company in Melbourne started making tomato soup shortly afterwards, and it was served to Australian soldiers during WWI, and became a vital ingredient for “magic tomato soup cake” when eggs and butter were scarce during the Great Depression.
Now, it has competition. Supermarket shelves teem with low-cost alternatives, from freshly made tomato soups in the refrigerated section, pouches of chunky tomato soups on the top shelf, and powdered “soup sensations” with double the serving size.
So, is tinned tomato soup still worth buying? And if it is, which variety should you choose?
A cold winter during the cost-of-living crisis is precisely when I might reach for a $2 can of vegetable-rich food, and so it’s the perfect time to find out.
In this taste test, I sampled all the tinned tomato soups available at Coles and Woolworths. All are widely available, except where noted. I followed the cooking instructions on the tin, diluting the soup with water, milk, or nothing at all as required. Each soup was microwaved and tasted on its own, as well as with a cheese toastie (because, of course).
I was looking for a soup that captured how delicious cooked tomatoes could be, with a creamy consistency and a balance of sweetness, acidity and salt. The following are presented in order from worst to best.
$1.10 for 420g concentrate
Maybe there are people out there with a deep love of tomato sauce, who reckon they could eat an entire bowl of it in a single sitting − if only it were watered down and microwaved. If so − perfect! This soup is for them. It emerges from the microwave with thick clots of red residue clinging to the bowl, and continues to separate from the added water, even when vigorously stirred. An unpleasant experience.
Score: 1/10
$1.10 for 420g concentrate
When I eat this soup, mixed with full-cream milk and water, as advised, I think of the Great Depression − a bleak postwar period when the thrifty canned soup first rose to popularity. I wonder how financially worthwhile this is − sure, it’s only $1.10 (practically unheard of value, during the cozzie livs), but what’s the return on energy? Could it sustain me during a long shift in the Industrial-era coal mines? And what of the cost to my mental health? It tastes like the watery run-off from soggy tomatoes, with an aftertaste of saline milk. It makes me sad.
Score: 1.5/10
$2 for 500g concentrate
As someone who habitually judges a book by its cover, I had high hopes for this soup. It promised vine-ripened Australian tomatoes, gave detailed cooking instructions, and had the word “gourmet” in the title. How wrong I was, and how desperately lacking in flavour this soup is. Maybe I didn’t add enough concentrate? I add more, and more again, but it doesn’t help. At least this Woolworths-only soup comes in a large “value” can, should you need to repurpose it for a nifty craft project.
Score: 2/10
$2.80 for 390g concentrate
OK, so it isn’t in a can. But with a box made up of 71 per cent renewable materials, perhaps it’s the can of the future. The soup plops out into the bowl, seemingly identical in texture, smell and taste to Rosella tomato sauce. Who told these companies we want tomato sauce for dinner? Do people want sauce for dinner? Am I the outlier who does not want to dine on diluted condiments? I digress. When watered down and heated up, this soup is categorically fine: tangy, yet bland, with a sweet aftertaste.
Score: 2.5/10
$2.50 for 429g concentrate
“A classic favourite bursting with rich, satisfying flavour!” Lies, lies, lies. The most notable selling point of this soup is how inoffensive it is, compared with its concentrated cousins. Though bulked out with starches, Big Red is thin and watery. It has a mild, flat flavour and smells slightly of acrid burned plastic. But with three servings of vegies in each can, it isn’t the worst choice for stocking a doomsday bunker.
Score: 4/10
$2.20 for 420g concentrate
The OG, Warhol’s signature subject − so thick with tapioca starch and xanthan gum, home bakers throughout the 20th century (including author Sylvia Plath) used it to make “magic tomato soup cake” when ingredients such as buttermilk and eggs were in short supply. It is violently red, cloyingly sweet, and smells artificial − but it’s surprisingly edible, particularly if paired with a cheese toastie or, as suggested on the can, in a shepherd’s pie. Maybe it’s meant to remain as a culinary muse − the side character, but never the star.
Score: 4.5/10
$4.40 for 535g ready-to-eat
In what will come as a surprise to exactly no one, it turns out butter and cream make for a much better tomato soup. They do the heavy lifting here, transforming Big Red into a thick, tangy orange. It’s salty and quietly satisfying, enough to keep you coming back for spoonful after spoonful, until you’re staring at an empty bowl, wondering what just happened.
Score: 7/10
$3.90 for 411g ready-to-eat
I consider Amy to be my personal saviour in this fraught quest to find a good tinned tomato soup. Finally, a soup that looks like actual soup. Finally, a soup that smells appetising, like tomatoes slow-roasting in the oven. And finally, a soup I can enjoy eating, with the rich savoury flavour of organic tomatoes, balanced with just the right amount of cream and cane sugar. And while “chunky” is rarely an appetising food descriptor, the texture gives this soup a comforting, home-made quality, and ensures it clings thickly to toast, and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Score: 9/10