11 Popular McDonald's Desserts, Ranked Worst To Best

With more than 13,000 restaurants in the U.S. alone, you might be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn't have a personal story about eating at the Golden Arches. From Big Macs to Happy Meals to its iconic Shamrock shakes, the chain is almost always a reliable source for comfort fast food.

But what's not always reliable is its dessert items, particularly when it comes to anything that uses the ice cream machine. Mickey D's is notorious for having problems with said machines — there's even a website dedicated to tracking which machines work and which don't.

Luckily, frozen treats aren't the only things available on the dessert menu. I worked my way through a whole list of items that might appease someone whose sweet tooth is having a tantrum. Let's explore what McDonald's offers customers who need a sugar fix, ranked from worst to best. The good news is even if the frozen treats machine is on the fritz, there might be something else that will get your craving raving.

Sometimes I think the McDonald's test kitchen needs to rethink some of its decisions. I remember when the company would take the time to develop something deliciously innovative. Think McRib or McGriddles. Nowadays, it's all about the tie-ins and limited-time-only windows.

The Derpy McFlurry was launched in March 2026 as part of a "KPop Demon Hunters" limited-time menu. It's a dessert that uses the mixed berry flavor trend and combines that with popping pearls, a beverage trend that I think should end in 2026. There's no word on how long it will stick around, but I'd argue it shouldn't be a regular part of the menu.

I tasted this treat and immediately winced at its sourness and contrasting flavor profile. It's a mixed berry sauce swirled into the signature soft serve, and it just comes across as, well, "derpy." Despite the cute name, I couldn't get past the polarizing profiles. Biting into the blackberry-flavored pearls was also not as fun as I thought it would be. All of these tart components make for an anti-craving effect. In theory, this kind of treat should be refreshing, but it turned out to be a thorn in my side.

I feel like the days of the soda shop sundae are gone. I remember ice cream shops were all the rage in the '80s, but it seems they have faded over time. McDonald's has held on to similar menu items to those served in soda shops for some reason, but I can't see why, especially since its McFlurries are capable of doing all the heavy lifting.

The secret to a good sundae is its sauce, depending on whether the ice cream is of good quality. Sadly, I think McDonald's should either retire this sundae or change the recipe because the one I got didn't impress.

While I love the chain's soft serve ice cream, which is used as the base for its sundaes, I thought that this one tasted as dated as the soda shop concept itself. The sauce had no personality. It was stripped of the buttery smoothness you typically find in good caramel, and when added to the frozen dessert, it slightly hardened, making it stiff and viscous. Yes, it tasted like caramel, and apparently, it's surprisingly good as a dipping sauce for your McNuggets, but I didn't like it on my sundae.

There might be no better example of shrinkflation than McDonald's Apple Pies. For those who don't remember, they were once delicious bubbling pastry caskets of apple lava. They were deep-fried, then placed in a sleeve that could double up as a hand warmer in freezing temperatures. Despite the layers of skin that burned off in your mouth while eating them, they were so delicious I always went back for more — like a child who hadn't learned his lesson burning themselves on a hot stove.

To say this latest rendition of the classic pie is only a shadow of its former self is not only an understatement, but it's the stone-cold truth. McDonald's apple pie is smaller than its predecessors, and now baked instead of deep-fried, so the blisteringly crunchy crust of the classic menu item of yesteryear is reduced to a slightly harder outer crumb. I didn't find the pie too sweet, and the apples did make an appearance, but the cinnamon came through so strongly that it overpowered the fruit. 

I could see this pie ranking higher on the list if deep-fried, which would at least give them a nice mouthfeel. But as they are now, it's just a sad reminder that the McDonald's of 2026 is no longer the fun fast food destination of my youth.

If any shadow of the old McDonald's apple pie pastry lives on, it's in the chain's Strawberry and Crème Pie. While still not deep-fried, the company at least tried to recapture the experience, even if it doesn't remind you of something from grandma's kitchen. And by that I mean, the concept of mixing strawberries and crème doesn't traditionally involve a crust. Maybe strawberry shortcake is a close comparison, but even then, we're looking at cake, not pie.

Still, McDonald's Strawberry and Crème Pie gets points for trying. The pastry is filled with a thick jam on one side and vanilla-flavored crème on the other. The berries come through very strongly in the beginning, allowing the creme to bloom as it mixes inside your mouth. It reminded me of those popular swirly candies of similar flavors from the '90s.

While I thought the flavors didn't blend well for a totally harmonious experience, each fighting the other for attention, this wasn't a bad dessert. But unless you like your strawberries and cream served warm, I'd avoid it.

McDonald's shakes are iconic. Its vanilla variety is made from what the restaurant calls vanilla reduced-fat ice cream, vanilla shake syrup, and whipped light cream. It's a pretty simple recipe that comes together very nicely for a refreshing and surprisingly light frozen concoction.

While the consistency of this shake is generally quite smooth, there is a slight granular texture that feels like micro ice beads pummeling your tongue, like a mini snow blower in your mouth. I mean that in a positive way – it's a satisfying effect, but brain freeze is a hazard, so be prepared for that.

The vanilla flavoring is basic and tastes somewhat artificial. However, there's a comfort there, and as I drank it, my mind wandered to a time when I lived in Southern California, sipping one in summer during the golden hour — it's that kind of nostalgic flavor. The whipped cream is like a cloud of lightly sweetened cream and brings the whole thing together into a layered, satisfying end. It doesn't have the wow factor, but it's perfect for days when you don't want the intense sweetness of sundaes or the density of a McFlurry.

Chocolate chip cookies are one of my favorite treats, especially when they're warm and soft. I'm not a crispy cookie fan because you can get those on the shelves of your local supermarket. Besides, a restaurant, even a fast food one, with some kind of oven shouldn't have to ask whether you want your cookies warmed up. For me, it's a no-brainer — chocolate chip cookies embody coziness, and a cold one is a wasted experience.

McDonald's gets its cookies right. It also seems to understand how the smell and texture are integral to enjoying a meal's grand finale. Depending on your location, you can order these circular goodies individually, in a sleeve of three, or in a carton of 13. They are the perfect balance of sweet and salty. Unlike the sugar intensity of, say, a Crumbl cookie, McDonald's cookies probably won't give you a toothache.

Of course, these aren't gourmet, and you could probably make something similar at home with prepackaged refrigerated dough. But if you're not loving the idea of heating up the house, consider getting a batch of these delights. The chip-to-cookie ratio is pretty even, and the chips have a chewy texture. They're also relatively affordable, which means it's not too expensive to reward yourself, or someone else, without spending a fortune.

When's the last time you had a strawberry shake? After thinking about it, I realized I hadn't had one in a few years. So, I was particularly excited to revisit the frozen drink for this review, and it was just as good as I remembered.

As far as I could tell, McDonald's hasn't changed things up much with its flavoring. The shake had the same sweet strawberry essence, taking me back to when my single mom was a waitress at a greasy spoon and would treat me to a strawberry shake and a large order of onion rings using her tips.

Sadly, McDonald's shake isn't quite as good as that one, but it was enough to trigger a pretty strong nostalgia response. In reality, the shake was sweet and tasted somewhat artificial, with a slight aftertaste that lingered after drinking. Overall, I liked it well enough (but don't tell my mother I said that).

Another one of McDonald's drinkable desserts is its chocolate shake. When I got it, I was surprised at how light it was, as if they'd only put as little chocolate as possible in it. The whipped cream was runny, but that could have just been collateral damage from living in Arizona. I also love that my McDonald's still uses the red, white, and yellow plastic straws, which might be bad for the environment but good for my pop culture callbacks.

The shake itself was smooth, and once you broke the frozen plug, made by forcing the straw to the bottom of the plastic cup, it was a smooth drinking experience. I found that the sweetness came from the soft serve base, and the chocolate tasted more like Hershey's cocoa powder. It was a subtle profile, more like chocolate milk than I imagined.

As with all McDonald's shakes, this shake is never going to be the main character of the dessert menu. But as a summer heat remedy or an unorthodox dipping sauce for French fries, they will definitely work in your favor.

The McFlurry is a sweet summer indulgence that was first served at McDonald's back in 1995. What's more, the treat wasn't even invented by the company in a test kitchen but by a Canadian franchisee who went rogue and swirled candy into the soft serve. The McFlurry has survived plenty of discontinued items and dodged the seasonal reboot cycle à la the McRib. And there's a reason why: it always hits the spot.

On a hot summer day, a solid McFlurry can be a survival tool, and I love how slowly it melts. It provides different levels of texture and density, ultimately leaving a sweet puddle of ice cream at the end, mixed with whatever fixings managed to sink to the bottom. The M&M's variety is no exception. McDonald's uses the mini milk chocolate versions of the colorful candy, which it mixes in with the ice cream. They become hardened in the process, which I find to be a layered experience as everything melts. One fun thing to note is that as the candies melt, they leave dots of color in the ice cream, creating a dappled rainbow effect as you eat it. 

The M&M McFlurry isn't a gourmet treat. It's got the signature McDonald's vanilla soft serve, which is good, and of course, the M&M candies, but beyond all the sweetness, it's your classic, basic flavor profile — albeit an extremely satisfying one that will cool you down in the summer heat.

Remember getting McDonald's hot fudge sundaes as a kid? For me, it was just as exciting as going to Disneyland. In its own way, a trip to McDonald's felt like an amusement park, with a cast of adorable characters, a playground with lots of fun and colorful side quests, and, of course, plenty of toys. But while Disney has churros, McDonald's has the hot fudge sundae. Back in the day, this was made with soft serve ice cream, a heavy pour of hot fudge, and topped with whipped cream and chopped peanuts, making it a luxury dining experience for an 8-year-old.

Nowadays, there are no peanuts in the McDonald's hot fudge sundae. However, I found that the hot fudge was still delicious and thick enough to pool to one side. I think it sits on the tastier side of average. Still made with soft serve vanilla ice cream (a reduced-fat variety) in a plastic cup, topped with the aforementioned sauce and whipped cream, this new version without nuts may not have tasted as good as I remember, but it remains a classic.

Oreo and McDonald's have created something special here, even if it's missing a main component. I might be one of the few people on the planet who thinks Oreo cookies are overrated. I'm not a hard cookie fan in general, so there's some bias there, and the creme in the middle is a bit too fondant-adjacent in my opinion. However, the Oreo McFlurry is a different story.

First, you have that reduced-fat vanilla soft serve base McDonald's uses for practically everything on its dessert menu. I found it creamy, smooth, and not too sweet. Add in the crunchy Oreo cookie crumbles and the heavens opened up above me with beams of light — the combination was almost miraculous.

I think the secret here was the absence of the signature cookie creme flavor. McDonald's ice cream generally boasts a soft, sweet flavor, and the dark wafers alone were strong enough to offset the subtleness of the vanilla in the soft serve. Together, they made the perfect couple. In fact, I'm of the opinion that Oreo should do a special-edition cookie with McDonald's soft serve ice cream flavor creme in the middle.

As a pop culture fan, I love McDonald's, and since I have been around so long, I can remember when it bordered on feeling more like an amusement park than a fast food destination. It had PlayPlace, a schoolyard-type playground with ball pits, climbing activities, and spiral slides that you could get stuck in if you were wearing shorts. It had characters, Happy Meals, and toys. What it didn't have was a wide variety of desserts. That's why I was excited to revisit that part of its menu for this article.

I opted to use a delivery service since my closest restaurant is within walking distance of my house, so if anything had melted in transit, I could walk over and get another one. The good news is that nothing suffered too badly, and I was able to taste everything as fresh as possible. It was delivered within 10 minutes of placing my order.

Once I received my food, I ranked each item based on flavor, originality, and, in some cases, nostalgia. In cases where the same ingredient was used repeatedly — for example, the reduced-fat vanilla soft serve — I focused on what made the dessert truly unique.