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Showing posts with label snacks and desserts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snacks and desserts. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Trader Joe's Sea Salt Brownie Petites

Last week, Sandy and I headed out west to California for our annual vacation. Let me tell you, what a trip, with all the sites and sights...Disneyland (fun as all heck)*, Joshua Tree National Park (stunningly, starkly beautiful - what a landscape), and all around San Diego (a zoo well worth the admission). Fantastic week, and when I woke up on Saturday, our last day of vacation, I seriously contemplated not jumping on the plane back to Pittsburgh. It was too much fun, and too great of an area to ever want to leave. Nathan, Sonia, why did you ever move to Pennsylvania from SoCal again? Moving closer to family and having four distinct seasons, was it? Bah. I'd never leave. Between all those fun things and as many animal-style double-doubles I could ever eat, I was trying to figure out how I could convince my work to relocate me to their nonexistent San Diego facility and if someone could ship our pooch out to us.

There's another thing that amazed me about California, and only to a slightly lesser extent: the size of your Trader Joe's. I mean, dang. They're the size of actual grocery stores out there, if not larger, with a much larger selection of foodstuffs that get shoehorned into our little teeny tiny almost afterthought of a shop here in Pittsburgh. Some of it has to do with being allowed to sell all types of booze (including a great price on Stone Arrogant Bastard Ale - only $3.99 for a bomber? It's twice that, easily, here) but there's so much more. For instance, at the Costa Mesa store we visited, it's a whole literal wall section of tortillas in all sorts of varieties I've never seen here on our one lonely shelf. I'm jealous, very, very jealous.

And there was something else there I'd never seen at our store: these Sea Salt Brownie Petites. Sandy, who had heard about them from a friend who lived in the area, started rummaging around in a frenzy as soon as we entered the store. "I HAVE TO FIND THEM!!!!," she practically wailed. "WHERE ARE THEY!?!?!?!"** I don't blame her for being so, um, enthusiastic to seek out and destroy a pack of them. Previously, we've had some tremendous luck with a TJ chocolate/sea salt combo that was pantheon-level great, and sweet/salty is generally a winning tandem for us, and since we needed some inexpensive snacks for all our adventures, I was all in.

I wish I could say the same for these brownie bites. First one I had was definitely a lot more sodium than brownie taste. How much more? Well, if the chocolate were Kate Moss, the salt would be Jabba the Hut - simply way out of ratio. Other ones weren't nearly as bad, and were actually pretty decent and full of cocoa-goodness, but others were way too reminiscent of the original. The sea salt was just too dominant and not enough of a complement, overall, I think. Also, all of mine were pretty dry and crumbly to the bite as they practically disintegrated into my mouth. That might not be a deterrent to some, but generally I'm much more of a moister brownie fan, and was hoping for something not quite as arid. Sandy, though? Loved them. Absolutely loved them. "All of mine tasted about right, and I loved the texture, too," she said. When I mentioned the dryness of mine, she said she had no such problem at all, and only wished they were a little bit bigger. Hmm, maybe she goldmined all the good bites to herself and left me with most of the undesirables.

I'm going to have a go a little low for my score and go with a 2. They were simply too much of a mixed bag for me - too many of them resembled dried-up brown salty cakes for me, and if I saw them again***, I'd say "Na" (get it?). It's another product that I'd totally get if others like more than I did, so when Sandy said she'd give them a solid 4, I shrugged and didn't argue. Somehow, perhaps because of my slight distaste for them, some of them survived our week and stayed with our friend Ashley in San Diego, who I think enjoys them, too. "If only there was enough room in our luggage..." Sandy grumbled. Well, between all the goodies we got at the 99 Ranch Market and Sandy's new little friend, there just wasn't the space. Oh, bother.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Congrats to Sandy on her best half-marathon yet (2 hrs 43 mins) she ran at Disneyland! Proud of ya, babe.
** Okay, an exaggeration. But only slight.
*** Might have seen them Sunday at the local shop. Seems like we get some stuff on rotation and whatever sells sticks, so if you're in the 'burgh and wanna give them a try, hurry up!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Trader Joe's Sublime Ice Cream Sandwiches

There are some definite signs to the seasons here in Pittsburgh. In our neighborhood, one of the surest signs of summer is the ice cream truck slowly driving up and down the streets peddling its frozen delicious treats. Please understand, though, this is no normal ice cream truck. It's downright spooky. Imagine a medium gray van from the '70s, plastered with Yosemite Sam and random cartoon stars, a low growl from the engine only slightly covered over by Kidsong Muzak, driven by some crusty/skeevy looking dude in a faded ballcap. I swear I once saw Chris Hansen trailing right behind him. Every spring, once it's finally thawed out, it's this same van, over and over again, circling the neighborhood like clockwork. That's when I know it's just about summer, and I wouldn't change it for anything. That's my neighborhood, and I love it.

Of course, with Labor Day already past, summer's practically over. Some signs of that in Pittsburgh: cooler air in the morning, finally no palpable humidity, even more folks wearing Steelers' jerseys (not sure how that's possible - they're practically the dress code year-round here), and of course, the Pirates becoming increasingly irrelevant each passing game. Sandy and I figured we might as well enjoy these last few weeks by trying out yet another tasty TJ treat from the ice cream aisle, and opted for one of the all-time ice cream truck classics (Bomb Pops not withstanding, of course).

In case you can't tell from the picture, the Trader Joe's Sublime Ice Cream Sandwiches are more of the chipwich variety than the standard slab of vanilla ice cream planking between a couple chocolate wafers. That's what usually what I think of when I hear "ice cream sandwich." Instead of that, think of the best chipwich you've ever had. These, if not No. 1, will be a very very close runner-up. The real stand-out part of them is the two cookies - absolutely delicious. They seem to intentionally be a little half-baked so they're more soft and chewy and rich than hard and crunchy. Sandy said they taste a little cinnamony almost, but there's no cinnamon in them. I can't deny, though, that there seems to be a little something extra to them that makes 'em real tasty, and I'm just not sure what it is. I don't care, they're just good. The rest of the sandwich is pretty much standard issue - tasty chocolate chips, decent vanilla ice cream - and they're all good sized and absolutely delicious as a whole. I kinda wish the ice cream was a little richer or more flavorful, as it is pretty plain even by vanilla standards, but is the right consistency and keeps cold enough to not turn into a melty mess without chilling your chompers, either.

Both Sandy and I are fans. These, like the band who's name TJ's snuck into the product title, are definitely worthy of the summertime stamp of approval. Lovin's *What I Got* for these, as you can't go the *Wrong Way* with them. You won't ever find 'em at the *Pawn Shop*...okay, enough stupid song title puns, and on to the rankings. Sandy said she "might have to give them a five" for the overall package. Hrmm. To me, either something's a five or it isn't, but I choose to not delve into my wife's thinking pattern too deeply (much safer then) and roll with that five. I'm going to go with a 4 - almost perfect, that vanilla just has to step up its game a little. Regardless, if you pick up a couple four-packs of the TJ's chipwiches, in your freezer, you can have your own *40 oz. to Freedom*...uh, yeah, cuz the packages are 20 ounces each...

Sorry.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, September 2, 2011

Trader Joe's Dairy Free Mochi

About a year ago, I decided I was in love with mochi, the Asian ice cream you can eat with your hands. I was so blindly in love with it, that it inspired me to cheat and write the first ever What's Good at Trader Joe's post that wasn't about a Trader Joe's brand product, something that's only been done one other time in our 170 blog posts.

Well, Trader Joe finally got the hint. He decided to whip up a batch of his own mochis. And instead of offering a half dozen flavors in separate packages like the Mikawaya brand, he decided to bring us a sampler of sorts that showcases three fantastic flavors (although two of the three are much more fantastic than the other, but we'll get to the details in a moment). Not only that, but Trader Joe's version is perfect for true vegans and the lactose intolerant!

First of all, upon inspecting the box, a red flag immediately presented itself to me: there are very intricate designs on the mochis themselves...in some sort of leaf shape I think? The rice-based shell of most mochi would be way too soft to ever flaunt such a detailed insignia. "Oh please don't let these mochis feel and/or taste like plastic, Trader Joe!" I thought to myself. Red flag number two: why mango? Chocolate is pretty basic. It makes sense. Coconut makes sense since these dairy free ice creams are made with coconut milk. But the mango...the mango is what worried me, since Trader Joe's track record with mango products is full of hits like this and this, as well as big misses like this and this.

On a scale of general plasticity, with actual plastic being a 10 and Mikawaya's mochi shells being a 1, the shells of Trader Joe's mochis fall somewhere in between, but thankfully they're closer to Mikawaya mochi than to actual plastic...we'll say a 4. Surprisingly, despite my initial red flag, Sonia felt their plasticity was more bothersome than I did. They definitely have the firmest shells of any mochi that I know of (and yes, I have tried mochi from somewhere other than Trader Joe's) but their texture is still quite pleasant if you ask me.

As far as flavors go, I was absolutely thrilled with the coconut. It tastes like amazing, sweet, real coconut milk. The chocolate was also delicious, and it was an excellent approximation of actual chocolate ice cream made with dairy milk. Sonia liked chocolate the best, with coconut being a close second for her. Vice versa for me. The flavor of the chocolate was at least as good as Mikawaya's chocolate, but the coconut might have been the best tasting mochi I've ever had. And sure enough, we were both a little disappointed with mango. It was edible...but it tasted weird. Sonia thought it tasted too sour for mochi ice cream. She thinks it should have been sweeter. I agree. It was true to the taste of a real mango to some extent, but it could have used some more natural sugar.

Since the different flavors in the sampler inspired such different reactions, we're gonna go ahead and score them individually first. Sonia gives the mango flavor a 2.5 out of 5. She gives coconut a 4 and chocolate a 4.5. I'll give mango 3.5 stars. It wasn't that bad. And I give coconut a 4.5 and chocolate a 4.

So, here are our bottom lines, by flavor:
Dairy Free Coconut Mochi, bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.
Dairy Free Chocolate Mochi, bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.
Dairy Free Mango Mochi, bottom line: 6 out of 10.

But since they sell all three flavors together, we have to give you a single definitive score for the product. I'm breaking out my calculator about now....

Trader Joe's Dairy Free Mochi
Bottom line: 7.67 out of 10 stars.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Trader Joe's Non Fat Plain Frozen Yogurt

Sandy looooooooves blogs. Loves them. I have no idea how many she follows but her Google Reader feed is usually so filled with posts and articles about how to make the new cool animal of the day out of popsicle sticks that usually any of our posts are something like #376 on her list. I have no problem with that. She's unearthed a guest blogger opportunity for me on one of her favorites, Children of the '90s, so check that, especially you baseball fans. The one blog that she continually rambles on and on about (other than this one, of course) is Hungry Runner Girl. Oh man. She could talk about it literally all day, about how cool the writer, Janae, is, how fast she can run, how far she can run (20+ miles a day?!?!), how much she can eat (I'll admit, it's quite impressive) and how pretty the pictures she takes are. But the one big thing they share is their love of frozen yogurt. There's this place in Utah that Ms. HRG goes to called Yogurtland that's a selfserve, pile-as-many-toppings-on, pay-by-the-ounce kinda deal that she continually raves about. There's similar places around the 'burgh like Razzy Fresh that while Sandy really enjoys, I'm not that into. Not that I've tried it, either. I don't know. I like delicious frozen treats as much as anyone, and have absolutely nothing against frozen yogurt, but that concept just doesn't appeal to me for whatever reason, and usually when Sandy mentions going out for a cold treat I'll steer the car towards Rita's instead. I'm probably just weird, with this frozen yogurt shop aversion and all, but hey, I'm the same guy who detests ketchup (that's a story for another day). So yeah, I got my food hang-ups, and that's one of them.

Anyways, since we never go out for some "fro-yo" (as Sandy loves to call it with all sorts of different intonations ranging from little kid to slightly ghetto), she implicitly insisted we bring some home from our last TJ's trip. She spotted the Non Fat Plain Frozen Yogurt, and I'm guessing with the idea of flavoring our own bowlful with whatever we see fit, that's what we got.

Well, Sandy loves the TJ fro-yo. Oh man, she does. Right after her first bite she smiled and said "Mmmm, it tastes very yo-ey. Me gusta." Right away she went into a whole litany of ideas as to what to top hers with, ranging from honey to one of TJ's new-fangled grindy guys to exotic stuff like cinnamon pear vinegar. She's been going through a whole yogurt kick recently so it's no wonder to me that she enjoys it. Me? Eh. I get that it's healthier than ice cream, and there's little bad that can be said about frozen treats. Except...the taste. I don't know. I've never had a frozen yogurt that tasted so, well, yogurty. The Ben & Jerry's-esque carton claims it's "pleasantly tart." I'd up that to "nearly overwhelmingly." It's so tart it's nearly sour like a yogurt-flavored Warhead. With my first bite, I took to wincing a bit while stomping my foot (that's my normal reaction to tastes that catch me off guard, don't ask) under the sheer tartness of it all. It's too much. I gave it a second go-around just before writing this and while taking a plain bite, I could brace myself better but still found it to be too much. I then tried to cover it up by dumping some Hershey's and peanuts on, and while it helped, the yogurt taste still hacked its way through like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. There's got to be something that will make it better - fresh fruit? - but it's just a bit too much for me. Got a suggestion? Leave a comment either below or on our Facebook page and I'll take it under consideration.

Sandy's all about it. She can't say anything wrong about it whatsoever and she probably can't wait to eat this every single night. Sandy gives it a whopping 4.5 out of 5. Me? Sigh. This won't be the largest disparity in our rankings ever, but it'll be close. Too darn yo-ey. I'm going with a 2, though I'm open to revising that if I can find the right stuff to go with it.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Trader Joe's Organic Brown Rice Marshmallow Treats

This past week, Sandy and I had the honor of helping host some friends of ours from Mexico City as they visited and worked with our church for a few days. On Thursday night, we threw a "make your own pirogi" party at our house, which once we all sat down and began talking over dinner with our visitors and some neighbors and friends from our church, the topic of American food quickly came up. We were asked what are good, traditional, all-American foods that we as a country and culture invented. Honestly, we came up fairly empty. Hot dogs? Burgers? We made them popular, but they were "invented" in Germany and other parts of Europe. Apple pie? I wouldn't believe that, in the arc of human history, it'd take long enough for us to show up to invent something so basic yet so tasty. I thought I had a sarcastic winner with that ever-so-delicious high fructose corn syrup (no thanks) but nearly simultaneously it was pointed out that it's more of an additive than an actual food, and my friend Josh blurted out Turducken, so that may be the winner. Honestly, aside from junk food like Cool Ranch Doritos, there may not be much else.

Except, maybe, the good old Rice Krispie treat. Okay, sure, yes, it's technically a junk food, too. But man, I've never heard anyone rattle off the evils of them, and never met anyone who doesn't like them. They're simple enough for a child to make with a little supervision, but tasty enough that every time I see them at a picnic I make a beeline. I love how the Krispies mingle in with the marshmallowy goo and create this semi-chewy, quasi-crispy square block of a dessert. And though there's lots of variations, for my money, the very basic and plain ones are best of all.

Which is why Trader Joe's is toeing some thin ice here with these Organic Brown Rice Marshmallow Treats.* You have to be careful when you're experimenting with a classic, especially when you're playing with the tried-and-true formula by trying to make it healthier. And honestly, I've heard that lots of folks don't particularly like these all that much, so I wasn't sure what to expect when we picked up a box last week.

Well, they're not my favorite, but they're not all that bad, either. You can definitely taste the difference with the brown rice (more grainy), which also affects the texture after a few chews (alas, also more grainy). Apparently science has advanced to the point where such things as organic vegan marshmallow-type things are possible by combining brown rice syrup, evaporated cane juice (isn't that just sugar? Am I missing something?), guar gum (which I presume to better than GWAR gum), and sea salt. I'd say altogether, they're more chewy, less crispy, and lighter and airier than the typical crisped rice 'n marshmallow love fest. Tastewise, they even seem a slight bit sweeter with a touch of vanilla. Each box has five bars inside, each about four or five not-so-big bites each, and seem to be low-calorie and low fat in comparison to most. I'd say they're not bad to tuck into a lunch or to grab for a quick, small snack for an energy boost.

It doesn't mean I think the treats all that great, either. For one, for $3.99, they're one item I'd say is definitely overpriced at TJ's (few and far between, but hey, it happens). And I guess when it comes down to it, I prefer my marshmallow and crispy rice treats to more closely resemble the outcome of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man crashing into a Kelloggs factory then these experiments in organic snack food science. I do appreciate the effort, however, so I'm not knocking that (and in fact I think TJ's ought to be commended for it), but there's just some classics you shouldn't mess with, like remaking "The Longest Yard" or "Bad News Bears." What the heck was it with 2005 and crappy movie remakes? When Sandy took a bite of one, said "Meh" and not much else, so that's roughly a three in her book. I'd go a little lower, as the added graininess in the texture throws me off a bit and the cost factor, but I'll give some props for the health-consciousness factor of these, and go with a three as well.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Trader Joe's Fiberful Handmade Dried Fruit Bars

This entry kind of goes as a companion to my post on Monday about Trader Joe's Organic 100% Natural Fruit Wraps. We'll be doing some comparing and contrasting since they're such similar products, sold in the same little section of TJ's.

The biggest difference between these two types of dried fruit bars is that these Fiberful ones are indeed full o' fiber, as the name so blatantly and appropriately declares. Six grams in one bar. That's not too shabby for such a thin, flat piece of snack food. And I'll be brutally honest, you can immediately detect the presence of fiber in the bars when you start chewing—there's definitely a gritty, almost dirt-like texture to these babies. Their fruit flavor wasn't bad. It was actually pretty similar to that of the other fruit wraps. But the problem was I simply couldn't enjoy the flavor while chomping through layers of sawdust and cardboard.

Here again, I find myself playing the bad guy. I know from just the small amount of online research I did that these bars are fairly well-loved by the general populace. And if you bought these fiber-rich snacks for the purpose of getting some extra roughage in your diet and you consider the incredible amount of fiber they've crammed into them, their texture is acceptable.

However, if you're not buying them expressly for the fiber, I would highly recommend you stick to the aforementioned Organic 100% Natural Fruit Wraps. Their texture beats that of these Fiberful bars hands down. I'd only recommend purchasing these if you're, ya' know...looking to, ah, give your digestive tract a little help...

And at this point, I would leap dutifully into a paragraph or two of potty jokes and bathroom humor, if not for the fact that I've learned my lesson the hard way that fart jokes do not generally go over well in mixed company. Furthermore, a food blog is the last place on earth we'd want to hear such filthy musings. So, for once, I shall listen to my better judgment and conclude this post here.

Sonia wasn't terribly impressed with these bars either. A 3 out of 5 from her.

I just can't give these a great score when I know there's a much better alternative right on the same shelf at TJ's. A 2.5 from me.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Trader Joe's Lemon & Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream

Question our food knowledge, wisdom and experience as much as you want, but while both Nathan and I are proudly self-proclaimed foodie-hacks (i.e., a couple normal dudes), I am willing to proclaim myself an ice cream expert beyond dispute. Consider my credentials. Thanks to many family summer vacations in Vermont, I have been to the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory* innumerable times (at least twice a summer), so I have seen firsthand how some of the best ice cream around is made, and have probably tasted close to every flavor there. In my college years, I went to Penn State, home of the world famous Creamery, which if you haven't had their ice cream, you're seriously missing out. It's one of Bill Clinton's favorites, and you know that fella likes his frozen desserts. Now that I'm in Pittsburgh, I'm not that far away from great local shops like Dave & Andy's and Oh Yeah! which I frequent every so often for a cone or dish of dairy bliss. Needless to say, I've had lots and lots of regular grocery store-type brands over the years as well, as my gut bears witness to. And Sandy? Aside from puppies, fireworks at a Pirates game, and I hope yours truly, she probably loves ice cream more than anything else in this world. If she could have it every meal of thee day, I know she would and not think twice about it. Give her a sub-par bowlful though, she won't be too shy to voice her displeasure. A sure win of a date for the two of us is to grab the pooch and go out for a scoop. Trust us, we're experts.

So when we both say that Trader Joe's Lemon & Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream may be some of the best ice cream we've ever had, that says one heckuva lot. As Sandy said between mouthfuls the first time we gobbled some down, "There's nothing bad that can be said about this." So true, wifey. The lemon ice cream base is subtly lemony, kinda sweet and tangy, but not over the top citrusy - there's just enough lemon to let you know it's there, and certainly won't make you want to pucker up. I'd say it's the perfect amount, because it accents the triple ginger cookie dough dry-swirled into the mix in just the right balance. If you've had the Triple Ginger Snaps from TJ's, you know exactly how good they are - a heavenly mix of crystallized, fresh and ground ginger made into cookie batter for a perfect ginger-spiced cookie. It is a fairly dry batter, so it doesn't exactly mix seamlessly in the ideal creaminess that is the lemony ice cream, but the whole consistency works well enough and it's so incredibly tasty that you just can't knock it. Overall, the ratio of cookie dough to ice cream is just about right. There was a pretty large vein of batter we unearthed towards the bottom in our particular carton, which made it seem a little bottom-heavy, but believe me, the two of us didn't mind it at all. The side of the container says each carton holds the rough equivalent of 15 cookies worth of dough, which seems about right to me.

Sandy and I chomped our way through the whole quart of this in only two sittings. Yes, we know, that's bad for you. Ice cream will kill you. Shame on us, yada yada yada. Right. Pick this up, take a taste, and try to put it down. You won't be able to. It's more addictive than Teletubbies for a two-year old. You can't not eat it, unless you're weird and don't like superlatively fantasterific ice cream, or you're some type of monk sworn to abstain from any and all types of earthly pleasure, which in that case I'd say you're missing out.

If I had to give a list of the best ice cream I've ever had, there's no way that this isn't near the top. If you're not familiar with the idea of "pantheon," in short, it's the best of the best, the summit of the mountain, if you will, that once someone or something achieves that level, it's impossible to rank it against others who have achieved that status. It's the most elite of statuses, and not an honor to be taken lightly. It's a Hall of Fame within the Hall of Fame (think Billy Williams vs. Ted Williams). Anyways, if I had to make an ice cream Mt. Rushmore, this would be right up there with the Creamery's Peachy Paterno, Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia and Chubby Hubby, and the offbeat but incredulously good bacon and Trix** combo from Oh Yeah!. It's that good, and if it makes the ice cream pantheon, you best believe it qualifies for the WGaTJ's one as well. Five from me, five from my lady, and I wish we had five more cartons in the freezer. Probably a good thing that we don't.

Bottom line: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

p.s. - Don't forget about our reader contest! See what you can win then read the rules and regs. One week left! How good are your chances!?!?!?
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*Everyone who works at the Ben & Jerry's factory gets three free pints of ice cream a day. They're also owned by the same folks who own Weight Watchers. Talk about a sustainable business practice.
**Much better than the bacon and hops I had once, as well as the inadvertent wasabi that secretly snuck it's way into my dish once. Talk about an unpleasant surprise.

Trader Joe's Organic 100% Natural Fruit Wraps

I used to love those fruit roll-ups that were so popular in the 80's and 90's. They were the epitome of "fun food." And then Betty Crocker started doing crazy stuff with them like fluorescent colors and little shapes you could punch out of the sheet, and things just started to get out of control. After kids had stuck the roll-ups over their eyes, punched out the little shapes, and played with them on the table, the fruit was covered in a thin layer of dirt and little fuzzies. It was kinda gross and we all knew it, but the roll-ups still tasted good, so we shoved the bits of flattened fruit puree into our mouths, along with the millions of microbial invaders that had hitched a ride on the roll-up and our sticky hands. I figure it just strengthened our immune systems in the long run and perhaps prepared our bodies to fight off H1N1 and other such modern-day calamities.

Flu vaccination? Please. I've eaten fruit roll-ups off an elementary school classroom floor. My white blood cells can handle whatever the swine flu has to dish out.

And I also figure that eating more organic fruit can't hurt in the ongoing battle against viruses and germs. That's one of the many reasons I wanted to check out these fruit wraps from TJ's. Pretty much the entire ingredients list is fruit purees and fruit juices. Au naturel. And maybe it's my slightly more sophisticated palate, (it really hasn't changed that much since I was 8) but I think these taste way better than those old Betty Crocker fluorescent deals I used to peel off the plastic sheets in third grade.

I'm not totally sure why they're called "wraps," either. They're not wrapped around anything, they're just thin layers of fruit. I think people used to call this kind of thing "fruit leather." Maybe Trader Joe's wanted to steer clear of the whole inedible cow-hide theme entirely, so "wrap" seemed more appropriate.

At any rate, they're very fruity and they're incredibly moist. When you open the package, they're completely coated in a layer of what would appear to be apple juice—it wouldn't be much different if you dunked the entire wrap into a glass of fresh apple juice just before eating it. But no complaints there. You can hold the whole thing by the wrapper while you eat. No need to get your hands all sticky.

All the flavors I've tried are really good. There's not a whole lot of variation in the taste of each kind, but you can tell some difference. They're chewy, soft, and sweet. They do stick to the roof of your mouth and teeth sometimes, but you'll get that with fruit leather or whatever you want to call it.

Another solid, healthy snack offering from TJ's. Double 4's.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Trader Joe's Jumbo Cinnamon Rolls with Vanilla Icing

Somewhere in middle America, in some dank, dark basement full of sharp kitchen utensils and 60's memorabilia, a narrow beam of hazy sunlight spills in through the window at the top of a cinderblock wall, illuminating the Pillsbury Doughboy, alone, languishing in a moment of self-pity. Deep in thought, the chubby fellow is sharpening his favorite pastry knife...and plotting his revenge...his revenge on Trader Joe.

Cost-wise and taste-wise, these cinnamon rolls are enough to send even the most agreeable of bakery mascots into a jealous rage. I really couldn't think of any other good bakery mascots...except for maybe that Bimbo Bear, and let's face it, a little something is lost in translation with that particular immigrant bruin—or rather, perhaps, a little something unwanted is gained in translation.

Now, I can't think of anything to complain about with these cinnamon rolls, except for maybe the high fat content, too many calories, etc. But hey, you don't buy jumbo cinnamon rolls in order to drop a few dress sizes. And no, I don't wear dresses. I was speaking to our primarily female audience.

So like I was saying, I can't think of anything to complain about...but Sonia can! Because she was the one who prepared them in the kitchen. She claims that she followed the instructions exactly, but that the packaging assaulted her as she attempted to remove the first two cinnamon rolls from the container, or something like that. She was only trying to take out the first portion of the dough, but according to her account, all six rolls ganged up on her and attacked her straight out of the package. She baked the first two rolls, but then she was forced to put the remaining four into sandwich baggies, as the cylinder the pastries originated from was destroyed in the debacle. She was thoroughly disgusted...so much so, that even the incredible taste of these huge, fluffy pastry rolls failed to fully atone for her traumatic experience in the kitchen. She docked a point and a half before she even tasted the finished product.

But I must say, the icing was good, although there's not exactly a plethora of it. We had to use it sparingly to make it last for all six rolls. But the pastries were soft, tender and sweet. There was a great balance of cinnamon throughout the product, unlike Baker Josef's Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake, which may or may not have been our fault...

I'm going to have to give them 4 out of 5 stars overall. Sonia gives them a 3.5, but her score would have been higher if not for the faulty packaging. Overall, I think these rolls are quite a success. Tell the Pillsbury Doughboy to pack it up and hit the road. And Trader Joe, watch your back!

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Trader Joe's "this strawberry walks into a bar..." Cereal Bars

So, this strawberry walks into a bar...and then another strawberry walks into the same bar. Don't you think the second one should have ducked?

A strawberry, a hamburger, and a hotdog walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve food here."

A strawberry and a Bohemian walk into a bar. The Bohemian gets thrown out, and the bartender says to the strawberry, "Now that's what you call a 'bounced Czech.'"

I could go on...

But if I did, you wouldn't read the rest of this "review," and I wouldn't blame you.

We've tried both the blueberry kind and the strawberry kind, and they're both tasty. You can see right on the box that there are plenty of "this stuff is good-for-you" claims to be made. Organic grains, B vitamins, low fat, etc. So they seem to be healthy enough. They're reasonably-priced as well. But how do they taste?

These cereal bars are surprisingly flavorful. After trying the blueberry ones and being perfectly satisfied with those, I was a little stunned that, if anything, these strawberry bars were bursting with even more berry deliciousness. I tend to enjoy blueberry products a bit more than strawberry ones, but there are always exceptions. Both products are soft and moist-ish.

If you've ever wondered why I employ terms such as "moist-ish," it's because when someone who disagrees with me leaves a comment something along the lines of "Hey, these thing aren't moist!" I can always counter with "I didn't say they were 'moist.' I said they were 'moist-ish.'" In the future, when and if I graduate from "foodie-hack" to "foodie," I can make more bold, confident claims about food, and when people leave such comments, I can simply produce my Official Foodie Certification card and just shut them down right then and there. That being said, I must clarify that only the fruit portions of these bars are moist. The cereal portions of the bars are dry, like the cereal portion of a cereal bar should be.

But really, I'm quite happy with their flavor, texture, and everything. There's a good cereal:fruit ratio, and the serving size is adequate. They're perfect for a quick, on-the-go breakfast, or just as a little afternoon pick-me-up. I'm gonna go ahead and say that you should check out both the blueberry and strawberry versions of these cereal bars. There are a couple more flavors that we haven't checked out yet, but we'll keep you updated. If you've tried the other flavors, feel free to fill us in with a comment below. I thank you in advance.

Sonia says these are worthy of a 4. I concur.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Trader Joe's Sugar, Chocolate & Coffee Bean Grinder

There's some things that hold a lot of appeal for Sandy that, while I understand on a certain level, I'm not really all that enamored by. Take, for instance, gadgets like any e-reader device. I know that as humans we come preinstalled to like anything with a glowing screen as a standard feature, but, to me, if you're gonna read a book, make it an actual book. Not Sandy. She's been researching these and polling friends left and right about the Kindle, Nook, and whatever else is out there these days as she's been saving up her babysitting dollars for one of these and has been talking about them endlessly. We've talked about it, and I get the arguments for, like ease of portability (Sandy at any time can have up to seven books in a backpack, though I believe she can still only read one at a time), but the arguments against are much stronger to me, such as: breakability/durability (like if you were planning to read at a beach, would you really want to take one of these? Think of all the places sand could go), risk of theft (airports, etc), "another screen," and finally, just, there's something about a book and holding it in your hands and turning actual physical pages that make it a more satisfying experience. And don't get me started on the iPad and other tablets. It strikes me as just being an iPhone for old people, kinda like the large print Reader's Digest you see at nursing home versus the regular sized ones. If they could be a viable, versatile-enough alternative to a laptop, sure, I could be on board, but until then they seem like some overall gimmicky marketing ploy to get folks to spend money they don't have on things they don't need. Maybe I'm some old school ornery codger, but I just don't get it. Sandy definitely does, and we've come to more or less a truce about it, and chances are she'll be picking up a Kindle or something soon, and maybe then I'll see the light. Til then, meh.

Of course, this is a bigger example of something that plays out in much smaller circumstances. Take, for instance, Trader Joe's Sugar, Chocolate & Coffee Bean Grinder. Last week, Sandy spotted it on an endcap touting TJ's new products and immediately started this kinda weird, silly, not remotely serious little"gimme gimme oh please please please" dance that immediately said "You better put this in the cart, there, Mister." Since it was something like two bucks, eh, sure. Cheaper than an e-reader. Sandy's little dance was definitely cute and gave me a chuckle, so I didn't mind, but whenever we have a kid and Little Russandra does that, you can bet I won't be so amused.

Okay, so I get the appeal of the sugary chocolatey coffee beany grinder guy. There's a built-in grinder that, instead of dispensing tellicherry pepper or sea salt, grinds up sugar crystals (both brown and white), chocolate bits (dark?) and coffee beans wherever you can dream it can go. Good in theory. The side of the grinder says it goes great with ice cream, coffee, and toast, among other things. Sandy's preferred method of consumption is to hold it high and grind directly into her mouth*, which she did once we got home like a sugar-deprived lunatic, and still does occasionally when she thinks I won't know but I can hear the telltale scrapy-grindy sound from the living room. Anyways, I tried it on vanilla ice cream, which was alright. I could definitely taste the three main elements and it almost made my ice cream not taste like plain vanilla, and added a gritty, crystally texture that though a little odd wasn't completely unwelcome. When ground on top of coffee, it honestly didn't add too much, which shouldn't be surprising if you think about it. While okay with buttered toast, if I wanted something sweet and tasty on toast and have it not be jam, I would have much preferred the timeless classic of cinnamon and sugar. And finally, straight from shaker to mouth...meh. That's a silly, not overly rewarding thing to do if you ask me. Overall, I think it's safe to say it just doesn't tickle my fancy all that much.

If you ask Sandy, though? She loves it. Besides the aforementioned methods of consumption, she's also put some on top of cottage cheese and maybe yogurt, too. She loved it with ice cream and with toast, but agreed with my thoughts about it with coffee. And I hear her grinding away in the kitchen often enough to know that she's happily plotting her next cavity in a way she finds most satisfying. Sandy said she gives it a four, which I thought was low for her but made sense when she explained, "It adds flavor, and it's really good, but it could add more." Me? I think I've made my opinion fairly clear, but to summarize it strikes me as being something akin to parsley for your desserts. Looks good, but doesn't do much of anything worthwhile, a Paris Hilton of the pantry, if you will. I'm going with a 1.5.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* For some reason she wouldn't let me take a picture of this. I can't imagine why.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Trader Joe's Peach Pops

As a young boy, I was constantly getting in trouble for moving our family's good pair of scissors from the miscellaneous drawer in the back room. "Nathan MacFarland Rodgers," my mother would shout from down the hallway, "where have you hidden my scissors!?"

During the summer months, it was a sure bet those scissors were either on the kitchen table or the stand next to the fridge. While playing kickball in the backyard in the heat and humidity, I never failed to work up a craving for Fla-Vor-Ice. I'd rush into the air conditioning, sweat dripping off my then-full head of blond hair, make a bee-line for the freezer, snip the end off the plastic pop, and in seconds I was blue-tongued and nursing a nasty brain-freeze.

Well, friends, there's a new reason the people you live with might be searching for the scissors next to the freezer. These peach pops are scrump-dilly. They're just like Fla-Vor-Ice pops, except there's only one color, and it doesn't look and taste like a series of experimental chemicals with a gallon of high-fructose corn syrup crammed in. It's Fla-Vor-Ice for grown-ups (and children with parents who care about their health).

It's like they took canned peaches in light syrup, threw them in a blender, chopped them up for a few seconds (they didn't liquefy them or puree them—there are still chunks of peaches in there) and poured them into those fun little plastic pouches. Not terribly inventive, but peaches don't need much dressing up to taste good.

As most of you already know, it has been HOT here lately on the east coast and throughout much of the country. If TJ's isn't sold out of these things, it's probably a miracle—or perhaps just a bit or foresight on the part of the dudes that decide how many of which items will go on Trader Joe's shelves—which in and of itself might be a miracle. No offense to those guys, it's just that I imagine it's very difficult to predict which TJ's brand products are going to be best-sellers and which ones are going to flop.

So to summarize, Trader Joe's Peach Pops are really refreshing and mostly fruit. Sonia and I both give them 4's. Plus, there's a cuddly penguin on the box. What kind of marketing ploy is that, though, really? If penguins wanted a frozen treat, I would think they'd want a pureed fish pop...but that idea probably wouldn't fly.

Get it?

...'cuz penguins can't fly...

<sigh>

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Trader Joe's Lemon Crisp Cookies

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know I make fun of my wife some here and there. Sandy's good natured enough to take it in stride and usually get a little chuckle out of it. Well, today, I'm going to behave, be a good boy, and write only nice things about her. There's many reasons why I love and appreciate her, but recently she's been taking charge of a lot of menu planning, taking into account what we have on hand, what we have growing in our veggie garden (eagerly awaiting our tater experiment!), and what's readily available at farmer markets (making a lot of recipes out of this), and then breaking down what we need to buy at Trader Joe's or elsewhere. It requires a lot of planning, but more times than not the results are healthy, balanced, really tasty meals that don't cost a zillion bucks or take forever to cook. She's done a tremendous job, really, and I'm grateful that she takes charge on it because honestly I'd probably give up eventually and order a pizza or something.

It also makes food shopping real easy. Trader Joe's is increasingly becoming more of an every other week stop for us, and that's mostly for some staples like cereal and tortillas, along with the occasional take-to-work lunch and, of course, snacks. I had to make the shopping trip while flying solo last night, but Sandy gave me a list for what we needed for each meal, but for snacks, just wrote down "snacks." I tend to reach for the saltier variety when given the choice, but for whatever reason, decided to take a closer look at the cookie varieties this time around.

I'm so glad right now that I saw the Lemon Crisp Cookies, as I just polished off a good handful of these, for, uh, professional reasons right before writing this. Dang, these little cookies are so darn good. They're light, very munchy, irresistibly snacky, and qualitatively addicting. I love them. The cookie wafers crumble gently when you bite in and melt in your mouth with not-too-overbearing lemon flavor, and when combined with the chocolate drizzle and sugar dusting...they're equally appealing in both taste and texture. So good. And I love that the little clear plastic tub of them comes packed to the brim with who knows how many cookies inside. The chocolate can get a little melty on them so I found it helpful to actually keep them in the fridge (of course, that could do more with my just vanquished reluctance to turn on the A/C despite near triple-digit heat). They're extremely tasty and I feel continually tempted to snatch them by the handful and go at it Cookie Monster style.

Of course, there's a downside. It's only natural that something that tastes this good has to be so atrociously bad for you. The lemon crisps definitely have the potential to be a diet-busting trigger food. I'm not exactly a health nut, but if you're semi-concerned about things like saturated fat, sodium and sugar intake, steer clear. To make some cookies this irresistably good, I'd imagine that Trader Joe's put in enough butter to make Paula Dean blush and enough sugar for your dentist to get her drill ready. If you do a Google search for the nutritional info, well, anything I found was significantly lowballed. Just take a look at the label on them if you're truly curious.

Anyways, both Sandy and I like them. We both snuck a few while I was packing them for my lunch this morning, and even more when she broke out the camera to snap a pic before going up to bed for the evening. I *may* have snuck a few more since...it's so hard to be good sometimes. At least I'm not making fun of my wife. Noting the overall crumbly goodness of the texture and well-balanced taste, Sandy slapped these with a fourspot, only saying they could be just a wee bit more lemony and not be worse off for it. Me? I think, for a cookie, they're zesty enough as is and overall, makes a tasty little snack if you can control yourself around them. They're not the most addictive thing I've found at Trader Joe's, but they're definitely close. Just wish they'd be not as bad for you. I'll round up ever so slightly to give them a four as well.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Trader Joe's Wild Blueberry Vanilla ChĆØvre

This past Saturday night, Sandy and I had an absolute blast while meeting up with Nathan and Sonia for hopefully the first out of many more "blog summits" (i.e., excuse to get together, eat way too much good food and drink some good drink). Nathan and I are old college buddies and it was probably something close to 10 years since we'd last seen each other, and of course we didn't know each other's spouse. Aside from some great catching up, we talked a little shop and discussed some ideas for this blog which we hope to implement soon, and a fun upcoming reader contest, so be sure to keep tuned. And did I mention the food?!?!? Oh man. We met up at the Media, PA Trader Joe's (inside an old historical train station building, how cool is that?) and went up and down the aisles and snatched a whole array of goodies, went back to their apartment, and had a tremendous feast worthy of our success (except no Two-Buck Chuck involved).

You see, this is what I love about food. Not only does a lot of it taste good, but also it's great excuse for people to come together and spend some time at the table like we did. Think of some of your fondest memories, and there's a good chance food is involved somehow. It draws people together. There's something unique and powerful and fun about sharing a meal with family and friends that honestly makes me hate eating alone. Plus, it's fun to share about stuff that tastes good and even more fun to mock things that don't. It's with this passion for food and sharing that the four of us create this blog, and we're glad you're stopping by for a glance over.

This doesn't mean we're experts or anything, for sure. Nathan refers to us as "foodie-hack bloggers" which is about as accurate a statement as possible (just ask our readers and some of our commenters! You know we love you). Take the Trader Joe's Wild Blueberry Vanilla ChĆØvre for example. I don't even know how to pronounce it right, that tricky word chĆØvre. Is it like "chiv-ray" or "cheev-ray" or even like "cherve" (you know, kinda like you'd pronounce "Brett Favre")? I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you is this: Sandy's been itchin' to try it for a while, apparently Sonia has too, I'm willing to try most anything (apparently), and Nathan, well...he's a good man, but he's on record as saying this is the one thing he's most scared to try (I'm glad that, unlike me, he didn't think turn-around was fair play and insist on buying sushi). So, we decided, what the heck, let's get it for our summit for one of our multiple appetizer/side dish treats.

Also, I tell you, it's pretty good stuff. I kinda found myself wandering back to it over and over again over the course of our meal. It's good, solid and thick yet creamy and very rich. I'd relate it to a cross between cream cheese and cheese cake, except thicker and kinda tart (no, not tarty, Sonia. Tart). I think the cheese cake-esque qualities come in from the light vanilla flavoring and, of course, the blueberry glaze around the outside consisting of dozens if not hundreds of small berries and some pleasantly sweet but not sugary goop. Probably because we didn't know much better, we picked up an assortment of regular crackers to go with it, which made an alright taste pairing though it was so dessert-like I'm wondering if perhaps something like some graham crackers would have been a better match. Regardless, it was so thick that often just trying to swipe some off the knife blade onto the cracker broke the cracker. Perhaps we just weren't handling it with the proper delicacy one needs with handling goat cheese, I don't know. All I can say is, it made for tasty bite after tasty bite.

I'm going to break this down into couples for our rating. First, our wonderful hosts from the evening. Sonia seemed to really enjoy it and finally having the chance to try it. Despite our best efforts, there was about half of it left when we packed up for the night, and she smiled a big ol' Latina smile when Sandy and I said she could hold on to it (much easier than transporting across the state). She said she'd give it a four, with the only thing missing was just a little more vanilla flavor. Nathan? Well, he manned up and tried it, took a bite, grimaced a little bit, and said "It...still tastes like goat cheese. No thanks." Eh, more for us, goat cheese-hater*. That's apparently enough for a two in his book. So, for Nathan and Sonia...Bottom line: 6 out of 10

Sandy and I? We both sided with Sonia and really liked it. Sandy wavered between giving it a 4.5 and a perfect 5 but seemed to settle on the lower of the two, which is not anything to be ashamed of by any means. Just means it was pretty darn good but lacked a certain je ne sais pas to get a full pass. I agree. While I certainly enjoyed it (and by that I mean a lot), I don't see myself getting it too often. I'm guessing that's because in my book it's more of a "fancy get-together" -type treat than an every day one. Still, very good and I'd highly recommend it for a party or something of the sort, or if you're the type who likes munching some on chĆØvre without any special occasion involved, well, go at it. Like Sandy, I'm deciding between two scores...I think I'll go high and say 4.5 as well.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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*Nate's notes - Nathan would like you all to know that he is not a goat cheese-hater, and that he does, in fact, enjoy goat cheese in its "proper" context as a savory sandwich and salad food, rather than as a dessert-ish food.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Trader Joe's Lowfat Strawberry Kefir


"Kefir" is actually pronounced "Keh-FEAR," although so many people use the popular mispronunciation "KEY-fur," that it may soon be an officially accepted pronunciation. I wanted to say "Keffer" like it rhymed with "heifer," probably because I subconsciously associated yogurt with milk and milk with cows.

"What is Kefir?" you might ask. Well, up to this point, I've always thought of it as "drinkable yogurt." Trader Joe's version, however, declares itself "cultured milk." From a marketing standpoint, I'm going to go ahead and say that "drinkable yogurt" is probably the better way to think of this stuff. Let's face it, we've all left a half-gallon of milk in the fridge a week or so too long before...and, well, wouldn't that be "cultured milk" as well? I'm no dairy scientist, but isn't rancid milk essentially just milk that's been "culturing" a little too long? I guess this particular milk has been cultured with a unique strain of helpful probiotic bacteria and not the nasty little fellows that have raucous parties in our month-old milk cartons.

When you drink this Kefir, you can feel a tingling sensation on your tongue. I picture thousands of little one-celled characters square-dancing in the bottle and subsequently in my mouth and tummy. They're all wearing red and white plaid, which appears as pink to us, since we're watching the spectacle from a distance.

I don't know how they get the strawberry flavoring in there. I guess they just add the strawberry juice after the little square-dancing buggers have had their way with the milk. I'm not sure what deal they've worked out with the microorganisms to keep them from eating the strawberry flavors. I would think that after eating so much cream, the little guys would want some fruit.

At this point in the blog post, I'm quite certain I've lost all of the microbiologists and dairy science people, as they are no doubt disgusted by my ignorance of all things miniscule and microbial. It's probably quite pretentious to assume that any educated people are reading this at all and are putting up with my nonsensical anthropomorphism and talk of square-dancing probiotic organisms. No one except perhaps a few stragglers hoping to have a laugh at my expense...and possibly one or two who are interested in whether or not I enjoyed the product...in which case I should end this pointless tangent immediately.

I'll just go ahead and say this is very normal, average Kefir. I liked it. They didn't reinvent the wheel with this one. It's exactly what I expected. No more, no less. Smooth, creamy, strawberry-tasting. But since we know TJ's is capable of going above and beyond and doing so much more than their competition, simply meeting our expectations won't get this product anywhere close to Pantheon status. It's a 3.5 in my book. Good for digestion. A half-glass is a filling between-meal snack. No big complaints, but don't expect more than you'll get from any other brand.

Sonia gives it a 3. She thinks it's OK, and she knows it's good for her, but she's not a big fan of Kefir in general. She thinks all Kefir has a funny aftertaste, including this brand.

And, ah, word to the wise: don't read the second half of the ingredients list where they name all of the square-dancing microbial families...

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Caramel with Black Sea Salt Bar

Like any married man, I have certain habits and tendencies that really bother my wife. A lot. One of my absolute worst offenses that I regularly commit is, Sandy wants to hold on to some tasty snacky treat. I see it in the pantry for, oh, a week, or more and figure it's fair game and start helping myself. One time, I swear, she had this box of Girl Scout Tagalongs for something like three months just sitting on a shelf, not even touched. Finally one day, I get hungry, see them, and say to myself, "Self, this is a good treat for which I am hungry. This is past any statute of limitations for any claim of right of spousal exclusivity. Indulge." So I did, and man oh man did I get the stinkeye once Sandy discovered that I dared break its seal to snatch away three measly treats. Just recently, there was this bag of jellybeans that we had since Easter which she hadn't touched since Donald Trump looked like a possible presidential candidate. I took them to work one day for a snack, a couple weeks go by, and she randomly decided maybe on Sunday she wanted them. Again, the stinkeye. It's enough of a regular thing that she now freely admits that she sometimes hides a stash of treats for herself away, like candied nuts or Christmas hard candies, because unlike me, she "doesn't have to eat everything right away." Oh, that girl.

What does all that have to do with this particular (and peculiar-sounding) chocolate bar? You'll read soon enough. First, let me tell you how amazingly good this is. It's so good, one of my good buddies randomly called me one night and first thing out of his mouth, he inquired, "Have you tried the Trader Joe's sea salt/caramel/dark chocolate bar? Holy cow, it's amazing." I didn't think chocolate was something one dude usually called another dude about, no matter how tasty, but I kinda rolled with it. Last week, Sandy and I made an over-the-state-border Trader Joe's run to, uh, procure some other products I'll be reviewing in the upcoming weeks and we started our TJ's shopping after a good dinner out (where I had, among other things, a remarkably good peanut butter coffee porter). In the mood for a good dessert and after a successful crazy taste combination, I saw this on the shelf and decided, what the hay, worth a shot.

A few miles down the highway on the way back home, Sandy and I decided to bust it out. Oh man. First, the chocolate. I'm a guy who has cut his sweet tooth on many a Hershey's milk chocolate bar, so that's what I'm used to. The darker, higher percentage cacao variety has never held much appeal for me - I can appreciate some types but find others to be too bitter for my taste buds. The TJ's bar is 70% cacao so I wasn't sure what to expect. I can only say I was fairly surprised as it was some of the tastiest dark chocolate I've ever had, and any bitterness was more than covered up by the silky rich caramelaliciousness oozing out of each square. Pretty fantastic by it's own right, but amazingly enough, add in the sea salt...out of this world. I wouldn't have guessed it, but the sea salt seems to accentuate the chocolate and caramel with this smoky undertone that just heightens both tastes. In every bite there's the chocolate, caramel, and sea salt, all present yet balanced and very complimentary of each other. I have never had anything that's tasted quite like this. Between the two of us we quickly wolfed down the entire bar, which consisted of eight roughly one-square inch bites to snap apart.

So, back to my opening tangent...I have decided turnaround is fair play. That's right, wifey, it wasn't just dog food I was planning to pick up Thursday night at Trader Joe's. I have listened to you and decided this is something I want to savor again and enjoy over the space of a few days, maybe even a week or more, instead of plowing my way through it first chance I have. And since I couldn't just let you interfere with this plan, I was going to go stash it away somewhere and keep all for me. Anyways, that was my plan, but...dang local TJ's ran out. All the other kinds of chocolate bars but not a single one of these, and believe me, I looked and begged and pleaded to no avail. Obviously, somehow, you discovered what my secret plan was and collaborated with TJ's to make sure they weren't available. Or maybe...wait... you bought them all and hid them all away from me now, didn't you? Oh my gosh, yes, that's what you did. I can't believe you. It's a good thing you're cute, otherwise...dangnabbit, wifey wins again.

Sandy gives it a four and a half, the only demerit because it "gets messy." Keep in mind, this was on a warm day in a Subaru with an air conditioning system that only kinda works, so when she busted it out and started breaking up the squares, it was a little melty and left a small, tasty deposit on our fingers. If it kept cool or even in the freezer, I'd imagine this wouldn't be an issue at all. My take? I gotta give it a full-out five. Unlike other flavor combos I've tried from TJ's, this is so well executed and makes such an unexpectedly crazy good treat. Well done, TJ's, well done.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Monday, June 27, 2011

Trader Joe's Pear Sauce

I've never had pear sauce before. I don't think I've ever even seen pear sauce before. Here's another chance for TJ's to set the bar for a previously non-existent commodity. And, if Trader Joe's Pear Sauce is successful, why stop there? Why not take a crack at peach sauce, banana sauce, papaya sauce, or blueberry sauce? I'm getting excited just thinking about the potential of the fruit sauce industry in coming years...

I found myself anticipating the taste of this product more than that of other TJ's products. Let's set up a logical analogy, shall we? The taste of an apple is to apple sauce as that of a pear is to pear sauce, or

apple : apple sauce :: pear : pear sauce.

Or so I thought.

As has been previously established by an older blog entry, I am indeed a pear fanatic. So I know the familiar flavors of Bartlett's, Anjou's, and Bosc's quite well. I thought I knew exactly what the sauce would taste like, however, I should have known that our good friend Trader Joe would have a trick or two up his sleeve as usual.

I certainly can't say the pear sauce didn't taste like pears, because it did. But, there was a thick, honey-like sweetness and consistency to it. Almost maple-syrupy. Now, I'm well aware that the pear is one of the sweetest fruits and that its juice is used to sweeten other 100% fruit beverages quite often, but I wasn't expecting such a blast of dessert-ish confection. It was actually a rather pleasant surprise, and the only thing I can think of to explain it is the presence of both pureed pears and pear juice concentrate. The texture of pears is barely detectable in the sauce, but it is there.

And another surprise was an unexpected, nearly-citrusy tang. As my wife put it, "This tastes a little tarty." I, of course, poked fun at her peculiar choice of words and asked her if she did, in fact, mean to imply that the sauce was late (tardy). Frustrated, she informed me that she meant to use the word "tarty, T-A-R-T-Y." Knowing full well she meant to use the word "tart," I looked up "tarty" in the dictionary and discovered that, according to Merriam-Webster, it means "resembling or suggestive of a prostitute, as in clothing or manner." Now that's some naughty pear sauce.

Along slightly more constructive lines, I also decided to look at the ingredients list on the pear sauce packaging to figure out where the aforementioned "tartiness" might have originated from. Lo and behold, they snuck some lemon juice and lime juice into the pear sauce to give it some tang. But no complaints from me. What could have been an overly sweet cup-o-natural-sugar type dessert was turned into an interesting combo of complex flavors and a good balance of complementary fruit juices.

Sonia isn't as big a fan of the pear as I am, and she gave this one a 4 out of 5. I've gotta say, although it wasn't quite what I expected, it was a pleasant surprise overall. I give it a 4.5, which happens to be the same score I gave to Trader Joe's Organic Apple Sauce with Cinnamon. Do I prefer the pear sauce over traditional apple sauce? Well, that's hard to say, but for right now at least, just because of the novelty factor, I would have to say yes.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Trader Joe's Chocolate Chip Chewy Coated Granola Bars

The good people at Trader Joe's have really shot themselves in their collective foot. They've established such high expectations from their customers that it's virtually impossible to please all the time...even with a decent product. I think many people who have been shopping at TJ's for a while have come to expect their products to be innovative, high-quality, unique, healthy, and green.

Those are some high standards to live up to. And, more often than not, they meet or exceed those standards, in my opinion. However, in some cases like this one, Trader Joe's seems to do what everyone else is doing, and even though their product is just as good as the competition, it feels like they didn't go all out...they didn't put their whole heart into it. And we know Trader Joe's can do better.

There are some unique TJ's products like the recently reviewed Scallop Bites or the classic Meatless Corn Dogs that simply aren't comparable to many products from other brands. Trader Joe's gets to set the bar in those cases, and they generally set it very high. Then, there are products like the Peanut Brittle, where TJ's takes a classic, common food, and they simply knock it out of the ballpark...they make it the way it was supposed to be, and they go above and beyond what's expected.

So when Trader Joe's makes a run-of-the-mill, average granola bar, it's a little disappointing. At any regular grocery store or Wal-Mart or Target, there's going to be a store-brand version of your basic chocolate chip granola bar. Those store brands are always going to come close to the name brands, but maybe fall a hair short on taste, texture, and/or overall quality. That's exactly what TJ's has done here. They're not bad, but they're not great either.

Sonia liked that these bars were gluten-free, and that they were rice and oat-based. She liked their texture, but she wasn't thrilled with the chocolate part, stating that its flavor was "weird and carob-ish." I agree. I thought maybe the chocolate was just darker than I'm used to, but Sonia really likes dark chocolate and she wasn't really a fan. I think a non-coated version of these bars would have been more successful.

They're certainly convenient like other brands, they come individually-wrapped, and they're very portable. They're crispy enough and they have plenty of chips. It's just that when it comes down to it, I'd still choose a Quaker Chewy Granola Bar over the Trader Joe's brand. TJ's version just tastes like a regular store brand snack. So-so.

Sonia gives it a 3, and I give it a 2.5. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Trader Joe's Parmesan Pastry Pups

Cute li'l pups. Happily, they're made with beef, not puppy meat. I've met a few people in my day who've been like, "Who cares? I'd eat dog meat. It's just another animal!"

Mmm, yeah, OK, but no. First of all, I've heard that dog meat is really disgusting, and secondly, I believe that God in His infinite wisdom put each species of animal on this earth for a specific purpose. Dogs are so clearly meant to be man's best friend. Chickens, cows, or horses, though useful, will never catch your frisbee and bring it back to you. And, they lack the individual personality that dogs seem to possess. Horses are for transportation, racing, and riding, chickens make yummy eggs, and cows give great milk...and beef cattle, of course, yield delicious beef products such as these all beef pastry pup franks.

So let's take a look at this product in terms of its three constituent parts: the parmesan, the pastry, and the pup. First up, parmesan. What parmesan? Neither Sonia nor I detected much parmesan. There was some slight tang to the food, but it didn't strike me as being particularly parmesan-y. Not a bad flavor, just not so much like the parmesan cheese I'm used to.

Next, the pastry portion: good stuff here. It was flakey, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside. It's just what I'd want in an oven-baked pastry puff bread-blanket. Not excessively greasy, and not too dry, either.

Finally, the pup: I liked it. Good, old-fashioned red meat mini hot dogs. They come out of the oven piping hot in 25 minutes, and they're flavorful beef, not pork. Pork supposedly has higher levels of bacteria, and for that reason, it is said to be worse than beef, health-wise. I'm rarely in the mood for hot dogs these days, but when I am, this is what I want them to taste like. Hot diggity dog.

Sonia was a pretty big fan too, and she eats even less red meat than I do. Though not as exotic as some of the offerings at TJ's, these pups make great hors d'oeuvres, and they're kind of a classic snack-food. If you're not so adventurous with your eating, these little guys are a pretty safe bet, even for kids. Other than a lack of parmesan, there are few surprises with TJ's Parmesan Pastry Pups. They're just a high-end version of pigs in a blanket...or in this case, I guess they'd be "cows in a blanket."

Sonia gives them a 4. I give them a 3.5. Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Trader Joe's Rice Pudding

Rice pudding is apparently a very popular dish worldwide. According to this Wikipedia article, different versions of the dessert evolved independently of one another in virtually every region on Earth. I guess you've gotta figure that any civilization that has rice, milk, and sugar is eventually gonna throw those three ingredients in a bowl together and see what happens.

Somehow, I managed to grow up in a rice pudding vacuum. I don't think I had even heard of it until I was in my teens. At first, it sounded revolting to me; rice is simply not a dessert food. But then, I grew older and more adventurous, and after eating raw fish, sauteed grasshoppers, and Chinese food that only cost a dollar, rice pudding suddenly seemed tame to me.

When I first tried it, it was presented to me by Latino-folk as "Arroz con Leche," leading me to believe that the dish was, in fact, Mexican. And, it is...but it's also Indian, Thai, German, Danish, and/or a whole host of other nationalities. The Pennsylvania Dutch did a pretty good job of bringing all good German foods to central PA, but if they did bring some kind of rice pudding, it certainly didn't end up at the local markets in my hometown.

Anyway, for all you gringos out there: Arroz con Leche = rice with milk. What an inventive name. That's why "horchata" never caught on in this country: poor marketing. You ask somebody what horchata is and they'll tell you it's "Mexican rice water." Mexican rice water? People drink that? Yuck! I picture a nasty soapy-gray liquid that comes as a byproduct of rinsing a strainer of rice with tap water in the sink.

But have you had horchata? It's delicious! People should answer the question "what is horchata?" with "It's the sexy Latin Cinnamon-Sugar Beverage, mi amigo!" Then you'd see horchata flowing from every restaurant soda fountain in the U.S.

Anyway, my point is that "rice pudding," though not totally appetizing to white bread Americans, is much better than "rice with milk." Now, let's move on to more important matters, such as the weird old-timey photo on the container...

It's a vintage pic of two young ladies sharing a secret of some kind. Judging by the expression on the first girl's face, it's a very scandalous secret. I'm not sure why something like that should make us hungry or make the food more appetizing, but apparently it gets the buyer's attention. Interesting choice of packaging. Maybe the one girl is telling the other the true origin of the product within the container.

Oh yeah, all that and I haven't really mentioned anything about the taste of the food yet...It's really good! My only complaint is that it could use a dash of cinnamon. There's just the right amount of rice and just the right amount of sweet milky stuff...it's very yummy.

I give it a 4.5. Sonia's score is slightly lower, probably because she grew up on the good homemade stuff, but she still gives it a 4. Not too shabby. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.