Google Tag

Search This Blog

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

Friday, September 19, 2014

Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning

It's a little less expensive than I thought to fly from Pittsburgh to Johannesburg, South Africa: starts around $1400, with a couple layovers (in Toronto and Munich), and takes about 24 hours. It's not a trip I'm planning seriously for any time soon (or quite possibly, ever) but if/when I'd ever go, man, someone invite me to a braai, please. Don't know what that is? I didn't until I saw it mentioned on the bag of Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning and looked it up. Basically, it's a South African style cookout/social gathering centered around lots and lots of meat. There's sosatie and boerewors (two new words for me!) along with chicken, seafood, whatever else...that's my kinda thing right there.

Well, apparently these TJ's chips got invited to the party, but to me, the jury's out on whether they really, truly belong or not. There's nothing really wrong with the chips - good, munchy texture, very crispy, almost worth the diet cheat points for that - and, although salty, I like the seasoning mix - lots of different stuff, primarily featuring smoky paprika and garlic - but there's something lost in translation here, I think. In the end, these South African-inspired chippies taste closer to a run-of-the mill straightforward barbeque chip to me, which is kinda boring and not the exotic kick I was looking for.

 I'm wagering this is not the fault of the spice blend itelf, but because it's on a chip, not a big ol'l chunk of carne. There's no real base for the flavor to blast off from. I've been too busy with some other spices and rubs at TJ's, but I *think* I've seen a South African seasoning blend on the shelf there which, if it's anything like this, would be a terrific pickup to rub on some chicken or fish or sausage or anything that can get all juicy on a grill. Instead, here, we're left with these light little dry crisps without much pop or sizzle. I think a little meaty gristle here could go a long, long ways - there's just not enough here for the seasonings to be able to really, fully express themselves. However, if we were to stay in the chip realm, another chip type may fare better - these are dressed up "Ode to Classic Potato Chip" hombres. A ridged or kettle chip would be a firmer base, with perhaps a little more oomph.

I'm not the only one not tooting my vuvuzela about these chips.Sandy's not too much of an ardent enthusiast either. "Ehhh...nothing too special," she stated with a dismissive tune. "I'll eat them but really, they pretty much taste like barbeque chips." Granted, it'd be a pretty darn good BBQ chip, and the price at $2.29 (at least locally) is a perfectly reasonable buy, but we both can't help but be a little bit disappointed here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Trader Joe's Cowgirl Bark

I had a hankerin' for some vittles, so I saddled up old Legacy and rode on over to the general store. While'n I perused their stock for something tasty, I came a across this here pink bag of Cowgirl Bark—my left eyebrow lifted up like one o' them there hot air balloons. I'd only ever heard of such a thing once before, in the classic western writings of a Mister Russell Shelly—a legend 'bout a man by the name of Cowboy Joe—a man so ruggedly adventuresome that the mud scraped off his boots made an unusual snack for regular folk like you and me. And while some say it ain't such tasty eatin', others say Cowboy Joe's mud is the stuff of dreams—more still say he's a lost man; a man with good intentions, yet a drifter with a broken compass. I had to find out if his cowgirl counterpart was just as unhinged, or if the bark from her boots were something just a little more special.

I sauntered over to the clerk, an impish young lass by the name of Josephine—Trader Jo, they called her—and placed my wares on the counter. She eyed me coolly. "You know they sell Cowboy Bark," she quipped. I stood there for a moment, eyeing her in return, taken slightly aback by the affront to my masculinity. "I've heard of it," I said. We stared each other down like gunslingers at high noon. She picked up the bag. "You like white chocolate?" she asked. Now, it's well-documented in these here electronic logs that I'm a huge fan of white chocolate. "It's for my wife," I lied. At least on most occasions, the little missus prefers dark chocolate to white. As Trader Jo shot me a look of disbelief, I went ahead and conceded "But I'll probably eat half the bag...and yeah, I do like white chocolate," as if the confession would offset my untruth. And with that, I quick-drew my wallet out of its holster, clicked the plastic action down through the reader, punched the green button, and laid that transaction down in no time flat. I snugged the card back in its sleeve as Jo handed me a receipt.

Impressed by my skills with the plastic, she waved me aside from the checkout, sat me down on a barstool, and took off one of her boots. It was covered in white mud, with a conglomeration of brown and red clay caked below her spurs. It was herShe was Cowgirl Jo. "Me 'n Cowboy Joe used to ride together," she said. "We'd rustle almondolopes as a team." She could tell I was impressed. "We both set out for the Big Rock Candy Mountains together, but...well, we both got a little lost along the way."  She continued, "I was with 'im through Pretzel Prairie, all the way past Peanut Pond..." she trailed off and got a little teary-eyed.

"And then?" I asked.
"And then, I—I just had to follow my own heart. We went our separate ways when he went up Joe-Joe's Mountain. I continued south through the Ginger Hills, and eventually I came upon a field of Cranberry Cattle. I wrangled them up and returned 'em to Rice Ranch." As she recounted each leg of her journey, she showed me the corresponding ingredient in her "bark." Triple ginger cookies, dried cranberries, and Rice Krispy-like grains were all tasty ingredients, but...where was she headed with all this?

"Finally, I wound up on the Great White Flats of Chocolate," she said. "I have sweet, sweet memories of that place." Glancing round her store at that point, she noted that it had filled up with locals and dudes, so she excused herself and sent me packin'. 

My encounter with Cowgirl Jo resonated with me for hours as Legacy and I lugged our goods back home to the missus—who surprisingly enjoyed the Cowgirl Bark more than I did! Sweet as Cowgirl Jo was, I still think she's just a-wanderin'...out there driftin' in the wilderness, just a bit lost like a tuft of tumbleweed. But if'n you like white chocolate—and ONLY if'n you like it a lot—then I say this Cowgirl Bark is worth a whirl. I give it three Sheriff Stars. The missus gives it four.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips

So these are like dorians, right?

Apparently, I don't know jackfruit.

Fortunately, this website seems to know the difference, and if you're really all that interested, take a read, this post will still be here when you come back. Good to know I'm not the only one who didn't know until my more botanically aware spouse shot me the stinkeye. They're pretty similar in appearance, and I remember holding a durian at a 99 Ranch out in California once - heavy, spiky sucker, looked to be more of a projectile load for a trebuchet than something that was actually somewhat edible. So while durians and jackfruits are not the same, it's the image I'll hold in my mind, and if it's not completely accurate, then blame my blissful 'merican ignorance.

As for these actual Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips....mehhhh. I've had a couple handfuls of them by now, and can't quite make up my mind. Sandy's in the same boat. They're just kinda there and otherwise not horrible but not all that great either. It's not the texture's fault - think dehydrated apples but not quite as sticky-dry with a little more girth and fluffier Styrofoam aspect, and it's about like that. It's not bad for a dried fruit snack (though dried banana chips are still my all time fave). Crispy and crunchy are adequate enough adjectives, not much more needs to be said there.

Really, it's more the taste. Or the lack thereof. Depends on who you ask. Sandy insists the chips taste like nothing. I don't think that's entirely true - there's a subtly sweet flavor, kinda lightly citrus-y and banana-y, which is fine enough until it morphs into some sort of bittersweet funk that grabs hold of the back of your tongue like a toddler in need of consolation. It just won't let go...it's there and it's there to stay, no matter what you do. Seriously, I ate one ten minutes ago, and I can still taste it swimming around in my saliva. Not a fan.

Yet there's something about these fruity chips that I feel like I should like - perhaps because they're fruit so they make a healthy snack and are a possible replacement for chips and Cheetos and the like. Could be true. But still, I'd much prefer just eating a regular ol' apple for a crispy crunchy snack on the go, and if I have the luxury of some cashew butter around to spread on a slice, even better. These just don't cut it for me.

Sandy debated her score a long time before settling on a two, standing by her "they taste like nothing" claims. A two sounds more than fair to me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie

Yeah, yeah...I know. Just a post or two ago, I was talking about the success I've had following a paleo diet over the past few weeks, and now, here it is, at long last due to popular demand, a review of Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie. I'm willing to bet our bigger foreheaded forefathers had some sort of prehistoric lime-type fruit but not the means to make into one heckuva tasty pie, so I'm a bad pseudo-caveman. I'd grunt more vigorously and wave my club in self defense with a little more earnest, but it's not worth it. A little cheat, now and then, isn't the worst thing...especially when your nearly seven-months pregnant wife insists on picking up something...for your birthday...what are you going to say, no? I'm not. Diet's still working, thank you very much.

And the great thing is, diet cheat or not, this one heckuva great pie. My goodness. There's so much to like here. First and foremost, this pie resides in the frozen aisle, so it's one of TJ's thaw-and-eat delights. Other desserts in this category have been somewhat hit or miss for texture - a lot of times, even while following or even exceeding thaw specs, there's still that mouthfeel that screams "I WAS FROZEN AND I STILL KINDA AM!!!!" Not so here, oh no. After just an hour and half in the fridge, this pie transmorgified from rockhard icy discus to soft, delectable, inviting citrus pie delight, without any trace of freezer-y-ness. Absolutely perfect.

But that's not all. The lime filling struck an impeccably perfect balance between sugary sweetness and citric tartness, all in a soft creamy goodness. Irresistibly good - so satisfying and refreshing altogether. Perfect. And what this even more perfect was the crust - no, I'm serious. I would have been reasonably happy with a run-of-the-mill graham cracker shell and not given much more thought. Instead of that, TJ's went with a gingery crust - not nearly as strongly gingerish as, say, their Triple Ginger Snaps, but still with a good amount of ginger that was a perfect counterbalance to the rest of the pie. Which is kinda weird, there's no ginger on the ingredients list...eh, whatever, I'll stand by what I said.

How good was this? Sandy ate two slices. My brother and his wife (both of whom are fairly diet conscious) ate two slices. I ate two slices. Then we all kinda looked at each other, shrugged with a "That was worth it" expression, and then stared longingly at the empty tin foil plate.

I gotta go perfect five on this. Hands down, the key lime pie was the best TJ's product I've had in sometime - yeah, maybe it just seemed extra good because of all the other sweets I've been denying myself recently, but I think it was actually that good. Sandy semi-incredulously went with only a four, noting it needed some cool hwip to really top it off. Maybe that's technically true for some, but then, I'd say, go supply your own while I'm perfectly happy with it just as is. For one night, I was one happy caveman.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Trader Joe's Chicago Style Popcorn Mix

I am and always have been a food separatist. I'm not an extreme separatist, mind you. I don't dislike turkey mixed with stuffing mixed with gravy or anything like that. But cheese mixed with caramel is a little weird to me. I thought I got that "food separatist" terminology from Seinfeld or some other popular TV show, but when I Googled the phrase, all that came up were obscure blog posts about picky eaters and recent news articles about the Ukrainian separatists that just happened to contain the word "food" for one reason or another.

I like caramel corn, and cheddar popcorn is okay, but I'm not thrilled at the idea of eating them together. The bag says it's the perfect combo of salty and sweet. If you could just take yummy sweet things and mix them up with yummy salty things all willy nilly like that, then why doesn't Trader Joe's sell Cookie Butter Ice Cream and Curried Chicken Salad together in one tub?

You remember those giant tins of plain popcorn, cheese popcorn, and caramel corn that you'd get from Aunt Edna at Christmas time? They had little paper dividers in between the flavors. There was a reason for those dividers. Food separation. It wasn't a big deal if you ate plain with cheese or even caramel with plain. But the one thing you always had to be careful to avoid was mixing the caramel with the cheese. Now I'm sure many of you will chime in and be like "I've always eaten cheese popcorn with caramel corn..." Well, good for you. Maybe you're just a bit more open-minded than I am when it comes to mixing races of popcorn together. I may be a little old-fashioned in that way. But to put them together in one bag with no dividers on purpose?

Does everyone in the Windy City have such flagrant disregard for proper food separation? Folks 'round here love their cheesesteaks and their water ice, but Rita's has had the good sense to avoid a beef and cheez whiz flavored gelati. Now, I'm probably getting a little carried away with my food separation hang-up and putting a negative spin on an otherwise perfectly decent product. After all, there are large, puffy pieces of popcorn, and individually, the coatings are quite tasty. And it's not the end of the world if you have to pick out all the brown pieces and eat them first before you start on the orange pieces, or vice versa. But in the end, there's really not enough in this product to elevate it above the myriad brands of flavored popcorn that already exist—except for maybe some spiffy packaging and reasonably not-bad-for-you ingredients. When it's all said and done, I can't go higher than three stars. Sonia gives this product three and a half stars. She's fine with this bizarre combo. If you're into the whole Trader Joe's popcorn thing, check out Cocoa Drizzled and Herbs and Spices varieties too, assuming they are both still available...

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie Butter Ice Cream

What hath Trader Joe's wrought?

Cookie butter ice cream...is a thing. I repeat: there exists at Trader Joe's a product which is both speculoos cookie butter...and ice cream.

Now I can die a happy man. A morbidly obese, yet happy man. It has a vanilla-esque base and it's full of speculoos cookie flavor. There are big globs of actual cookie butter throughout it. I couldn't figure out if it was the smooth variety or the crunchy. It strikes me as being somewhere in between the two, perhaps, but no...it's actually probably original. It's just firmer than usual because it's cold. Does it really matter? They make cookie butter ice cream. I repeat: the product in these pictures is real...and it's speculoos cookie butter flavored ice cream.

What's next in TJ's diabolical plan? Cookie and Cocoa Swirl Ice Cream? Slap the words "cookie butter" on a Trader Joe's product, and you pretty much have a big winner every time...with maybe one exception so far. I started shaking when I heard the news. Sonia and I started calling all the TJ's in our region to see who had it in stock. As I mentioned in my last post, Sonia and I just moved. And thanks to the customer service wizards at Comcast, we were without internet for a few days. A big thanks to Russ for holding down the fort during our transition. We're still buried beneath boxes and swamped with address changes, phone calls to realtors, and new utility accounts, but the magic of the interwebs floweth once more to bring you good tidings of great cookie butter.

This ice cream is on par with the discontinued classic Lemon Triple Gingersnap Ice Cream—and maybe even exceeds it in some ways. It's a legend, in every way fit for the halls of the Pantheon. It really actually honestly seriously tastes just like the original cookie butter, and it blends perfectly with the sweet ice cream surrounding it. Sonia says it could use just a bit more in that gingersnappy, cinnamony department. And I agree, it does err on the side of sweet, rather than spicy, but I think it works. I think the flavor is perfect. If a madman held a gun to my head and forced me to make a complaint about this product, I'd simply ask for larger globs of cookie butter in the mix. But until that hypothetical lunatic starts waving his Glock in my direction, I'm sticking with my story that this is a near-perfect product that just needed to be here on Earth right now...even in light of its $5 price tag. From the bottom of my heart, Trader Joe, thank you for making Cookie Butter Ice Cream. I give it a perfect 5. Sonia gives it four and a half.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Trader Joe's Peanutters

It's not exactly rocket surgery, but I think I figured out, finally, the allure of smaller, mini foods that used to kinda be weird to me. Naturally, allow me to illustrate with a short story. A couple years ago, Sandy and I were on vacation up to Boston and Maine, and were heading towards my grandparents' cabin for a couple days of peace and quiet when we decided to stop at Tim Horton's for a big box of Timbits to bring with us for nibbling for a few days. Great plan...except the lady in front of us bought every single last one in the store, leaving us to buy regular sized doughnuts instead. Eating a few gobfulls of donut holes over a couple days? Not a problem. Eating a half dozen full sized donuts though? That seems...so gluttonous. It's perception. Plus people with this "self control" thing I keep hearing about can enjoy a small bite too.

And right now you're probably saying "Duh." Well, thanks for waiting for me.

It comes to mind for Trader Joe's Peanutters because they're teeny little cookies that, if full sized, would probably seem to be an overly decadent treat. Kinda like Little Mac, they pack a lot of punch for such a small guy. Unlike most peanut butter cookies that come to mind, each cookie is light, crispy and crumbly upon first bite, practically melting in your mouth. While the peanut bits more or less meld in without much notice, once the teeth hit some peanut butter chips, it's a smooth, silky, effortless glide that feels so right. It's like magic...with peanut butter! Equally as impressive is the amount of yumminess packed in - these nutty buddies taste just like how I'd imagine cookie-fied PB that's slightly on the chunky side. Perfect with milk, too, of course, and Sandy mentioned she'd love to make a pie shell out of them, a la Nilla Wafer style. For a little extra special treat, eating these with a little of your favorite jam or some dark chocolate...the words have not yet been invented, but man, that'd be goooood. 

I can't think of a single complaint, except once I have one, I have to try very, very hard to stop. "In control," I have to say....with about as much success. If they were bigger (each is bite sized) stopping after just one would be so much easier, but with them being so small, I can eat ten and barely notice - that's no good. Last thing I need is another trigger food, but that's on me, not the cookies. . Sandy's in love with both the taste and the texture, as am I. A package runs about $3 or $4, and it's well spent, as long as you don't mind the probably rapid disappearance of your investment.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanutters: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

  

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers

As a general rule, I don't write about (or even mention) my daughter much on here, but today, perhaps in honor of her recent second birthday, I am. You see...I love my girl to pieces, and I love spending as much time as I can with her. I find myself constantly learning how to enjoy her and my time with her, no matter her mood, how my day otherwise went, or what we're doing. Sometimes, it's the big fun family trips, like our recent overnighter to Ohio for a Reds/Pirates game and Columbus Zoo visit. Her highlight? Jumping on the bed at the hotel we stayed at in northern Kentucky (or as she calls it, "Kucky!!!"). Other times, it's the smaller, fun outings, like going to the pool or out for ice cream here (her favorite flavor of ice cream? "Blue."). Or, more times than not, it's the small, simple, everyday stuff that I just try to soak up. I love coming home after a nine or ten hour workday and snatching her up as she smiles (provided that she'll willingly part from an episode of Peppa Pig, of course) then going out to the kitchen and making dinner with her "help" and company as Sandy gets a few minutes to herself to recharge her batteries (seriously, she's tough, but everyone needs a breather). It's so much fun to be with her, talk about her day some, goof off, sing songs, do whatever...it all reminds of why I do what I do, all day every day. Then, of course, it's bath time, then jammie time, then brushing teeth and reading books and looking at pictures before I sing her to sleep - these days, I have to sing both "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" and "Come Thou Fount" as I snuggle her in for the night. I hope that somehow, some way, she'll remember all those small moments, and that'll they mean as much to her as they do to me.

What does all this have to do with Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers? Besides the "cheese" factor, of course. Well, sometimes while whisking away to make dinner, or getting to sit down and be still, or to tide her over at a ballgame or in her stroller, like any toddler she needs a snack or she will be NOT HAPPY and will let you know. These cheesy crackers have been a key find recently to combat her little hunger monster on the go.

Truth be told, I can munch on these, and not notice much of a difference between the TJ's brand and a brand like Ritz. There's not anything fancy - generic, kinda fake cheese (you know the type) sandwiched between two crackers.  At least these are organic, so presumably a tad healthier, although I look at the fat, salt and calories and kinda wonder. Good thing my daughter is on the smaller side and eats a reasonably healthy and balanced diet, so I don't feel too too guilty about it. I mean, she loves peas, for goodness sake. About the only difference I can discern is perhaps the crackers are a slight bit heftier than Ritz's, but that could be me trying too hard and making things up in an effort to try to draw at least a small distinction. Crackers are crispy, buttery, and fairly light, the "cheese" is a salty, gritty variant of creamy, and they're easily twistable so if you (or your toddler) wants to rip apart, lick cheese off one cracker, then devour both dime-dimensioned discs like some diabolical snacker cracker monster, go right ahead.

For two-ish bucks, not a bad pickup. No offense to my beautiful wife, but I'm skipping her opinion this time and going straight to the expert: my two year old. I explained the concept of Golden Spoons to her and was met with blank stares. Then I asked her if the crackers were "yucky" or "yummy." "Yucky!" she exclaimed. I then pointed out the two fistfuls she was holding, with crumbs down her front and smeared around her mouth and asked her if she was sure. "Hummmmm....yummy!" she then squealed. Glad to get that cleared up. There's also, naturally, a peanut butter version which we haven't tried yet but will probably soon as our next trip - I thank God every day she has no PB allergies, because I love me some peanut butter. Seeing as though these snacks make up two of her favorite things - cheese and crackers - when she eventually told me a five for these guys, I'll believe her. If they only had baseball, ice cream and fireworks involved for her...I'm going with a 3.5 myself.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons


Friday, July 18, 2014

Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars

It's a pretty well established fact by now that the checkout displays at Trader Joe's sometimes giveth and sometimes taketh away. Generally, by that I mean they giveth something yummy for me to eat while they taketh my dollars. There's been a few tremendous finds, some fun combos, and very few duds. Nutritional value is occasionally very debatable at best.

But...what if something there could be healthy and taste good?

It was upon the checkout lane that I first discovered Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars. Usually, they're nestled in some nether regions above frozen Asian food and below much flashier-looking cookies that I'd never really seen them around until they were a featured item. Indeed, I had to look around for a couple minutes to find them once more even after being told exactly where they were by an employee. Maybe if they wore a red-and-white beanie, goofy glasses, and a striped shirt they'd be easier to spot when only at their normal home.

Tell ya what: Regardless of where displayed, these almond bars should not be overlooked. They're that good. Each bar isn't that big - about an ounce, a little more than an inch wide, maybe three inches long, half an inch thick, maybe - but they pack a lot. Each bite is soft and inviting, yet chewy but still crumbly, with some seeds randomly interspersed that make the bars pretty fun to munch on. Indeed, I had to chomp on these a bit more than I usually chew my food. For taste, they're like an amazing hybrid between pumpkin pie and my grandmother's molasses cookies, even though there's no molasses in them. Must be the cinnamon and cloves, which really shine through. Each respective seed - flax, poppy, sunflower, sesame and pumpkin - adds even more flavor to the subtly nutty base. And yes, there's a fair amount of sugar, although it sure doesn't taste like it - these are more geared for grown-ups and not kids, it seems. Not a bad thing. If you're a morning yogurt person, I'd imagine some yogurt with a bar crumbled on top would be a fairly tasty treat.

Both Sandy and I are fans. They're soft, delicious, and surprisingly filling. One of these, an apple, and some coffee, and I'm set til lunch. As an added bonus the almond bars are pretty decently priced ($3.99 for a package of 8) and pack more nutrition than a regular ol' granola bar. It's just a good, honest bite that's pretty close to perfect for a busy, on-the-go day. Sandy gives them a four, I counter with a 4.5,

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   


Monday, July 14, 2014

Trader Joe's Spicy, Smoky, Peach Salsa

Neither spicy nor smoky in my humble opinion, this peach salsa doesn't live up to its name particularly well. But had its label proudly declared something about being "chunky" or "addictive," I'd go ahead and say, "mission accomplished."

The taste is great, especially if you like peaches. This salsa is full of huge chunks of actual fruit, plus tomatoes, peppers, and other more traditional salsa ingredients. The spice level is barely perceivable, with just the slightest hint of tongue-tingling heat creeping through the sweet peach and tangy tomato juices. And quite frankly, I was hoping there wasn't much in the way of "smokiness," because even just a little too much in that department is enough to make you feel like you're snacking on ashes. Fortunately, there's even less than I was expecting.

I'm a relative newcomer to the world of sweet salsas. For a long time, the idea of sweet fruit mixed with tomato sauce just weirded me out. Kinda like Hawaiian pizza—which I'm now a huge fan of. But so far Trader Joe's has offered us at least one other mostly successful sweet salsa, which we reviewed just last month. In the past, we saw Russ and Sandy muse over the strangely sweet Tomato-less Salsa, which Sonia and I tried shortly thereafter. Both houses were divided on that product: thumbs down from Russ, thumbs up from Sandy; thumbs down from Sonia, thumbs up from me.

I do have to mention at this point that two of the best sweet salsas I've ever had came from Target, surprisingly enough. And while this peach salsa and the aforementioned pineapple salsa are both great offerings from TJ's, they simply aren't quite as impressive as the Archer Farms Summer Fruits Salsa that I've come to adore. If given the choice between TJ's pineapple salsa and this, I think I'd take the pineapple since it's just a tad sweeter and its label makes no misleading claims about smokiness or spiciness, although I must say Sonia and I polished off this tiny jar in a single sitting—so there's plenty of good things going for this salsa. It has a great balance of sweet and savory flavors, it's extremely chunktastic, it goes well with white corn tortilla chips, and it's reasonably priced at $2.29. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Trader Joe's Apple + Banana and Apple + Mango Fruit Bars

This is the kind of product I'd like to see more of in the checkout zone at TJ's. They're far more healthy than treats like salted caramel or pb&j filled candy bars, and in my opinion they're way better tasting than chocolate covered jelly sticks. As I've mentioned before, we're coming to TJ's because we're pretending to be slightly more healthy than folks who shop at regular grocery stores. That whole philosophy comes unraveled if Big Joe tricks us into buying a basket full of chocolate bars before we leave the store.

But if Big Joe ensnares us with treats that look semi-indulgent, but are actually nothing but pressed fruit, well then, the guilt-factor disappears. I'm all for being tricked into eating healthier. And sometimes that's the only way I'll eat better. I mean, I realized there was fruit in these bars. But that's all there is. Similar to TJ's new cold pressed juices, there's nothing in these bars but fruit. But in this case, you only have to spend a buck to try the product. The apple banana bar has two ingredients: apples and bananas. The apple mango bar, likewise, has only two ingredients: apples and mangoes.

The bars are slightly chewy, and I think that's due to the fact that they're not too dry. They aren't the same as banana chips or dried apple slices. They're way more moist than either of those. But they're not dripping with juice like fresh fruit, either. They're really just bits of fruit bound together by their natural syrupy goodness. They're fairly filling for how small they are, probably due to the 2g-3g of natural fiber in them, although I certainly wouldn't have minded if they were a tad larger.

Flavor-wise, you can't expect much more than you'd expect from fresh fruit, although the juices of each ingredient do intertwine and commingle with one another, creating some interesting fruit-salad-esque taste combos not to be found in a lone piece of fresh fruit. I definitely liked the banana flavor slightly better than the mango flavor. I kept wishing the mango bar had chile powder on it. I guess I could have added it myself, but too much of it could have easily ruined the taste. Texture-wise, there were only very subtle differences between the two bars, and quite frankly, I don't even remember which bar we took a picture of to show texture. They both looked really similar. If I had to take a guess, I would say this is the mango bar in the photo. There were a couple of other flavors we haven't tried yet, so if you have any insights about those, please share in the comments below!

All in all, this is a TJ's checkout win. Sonia liked them even better than I did, giving them four stars each. I'm gonna go with four stars for banana and three and a half for mango.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Apple + Banana Fruit Bar: 8 out of 10.
                    Trader Joe's Apple + Mango Fruit Bar: 7.5 out of 10.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Trader Joe's Grand Slam

Veterans Stadium. Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Stade Olympique. (Old) Yankee Stadium. PNC Park. Jacobs/Progressive/whatever-its-called-these-days-in-Cleveland Field. Citizens Bank ParkFenway Park. Angel Stadium. Nationals Park. And, in a few weeks, Great American Ball Park.

Those, in rough chronological order, are the baseball stadiums I've been to. And yes, you're reading that right - I've been to a Montreal Expos home game. Can't do that anymore. No other place, except perhaps my grandparents' cabin, says summer to me like heading out to the ballpark to catch a game. Eventually I want to make my way to every park, except maybe that dreary prison (I didn't know you could move a stadium from Montreal to Tampa) or crazy neon funhouse down in Florida. I mean, seriously, ugh. Whatever. From catching the tail end of Mike Schmidt's career to seeing Mike Trout in the very early stages of his, all in person, there's little that beats a night at the ol' ballgame.

So, you need some snacks for that, right? Right. And if they not only keep kids happy but also go well with crappy, overpriced beer? Even better. That's why Cracker Jack is so popular. So, with venturing out with some Trader Joe's Grand Slam, TJ's is just maybe poking the bear a little. There's some classics, like Rollie Fingers' mustache, that you just don't mess with.

Let's see: a grand slam is the single best hit a baseball player can get, right? Well, this isn't Trader Joe's single best snack. It's okay - the popcorn itself is light and poofy with very little (if any) grungy kernally undercarriage. I firmly appreciate all of that. The rest....ehhh. At least in our bag, the caramel seemed uneven from bite to bite - some bites seemed too overtly sweet while others were kinda bland. That leads me to believe it's either not very good caramel or there's something off in the production process.

And while the thought of adding almonds, cashews and pecans to the tried-and-true peanuts seem like a very intriguingly good idea, the byproduct is almost worthy of it's own blooper reel. Think about it. Of course all those nuts will be chopped up into little itty-bitty bits, then slathered in sticky caramel goop and hardened...so of course they're gonna form a nutty conglomeration worthy of only the sturdiest of molars to undertake. And of course based on weight and settling and shuffling and what not, the nut clusters will all sink to the bottom of the bag (you know, like, all four of them), so one must dig through all the poofy popcorn to get some nuts then risk an unscheduled dentist trip to enjoy them. Well, good thing they taste pretty good - it's caramel covered nuts, what did you expect?

I think the bag cost somewhere around $3, and while it's a tasty enough of snack...well, call me a traditionalist (I hate instant replay!!!!) but I gotta go for Cracker Jack instead - better caramel and no nutty nut bombs. Plus you get that awesome sticker or temporary tattoo inside. Not a bad attempt TJ's, but sometimes, less is more, and when you're going against a legend, you gotta bring your A game. It says something that Sandy, a much more fervent fan of caramel popcorn than I can ever aspire to be, was a little displeased as well, for much of the reasons above. This "grand slam" seems more of a fly out to the warning track - might still bring something home, but in the end, it's still a sacrifice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Grand Slam: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Trader Joe's Chocolate Raspberry Sticks

This was a silly purchase. I was stuck in line at TJ's, and the lady in front of me had an enormous cartload of groceries—a fact I didn't notice until after it was too late to switch lines. I was in the queue for a good three or four minutes just staring at the little table full of goodies next to the checkout. The stuff they have sitting there is pretty slick when it comes to ensnaring unsuspecting victims. My usual strategy involves picking a line with little or no wait and just breezing past them without a glance. But I was stuck. And sure enough, these little guys got me.

Sonia and I rarely eat chocolate, and as I've mentioned before, I'm not really a huge fan of dark chocolate. Plus, in the summertime, you have to keep chocolate in the fridge or it gets melty and messy just sitting on the counter. Our AC units hit the bedroom and living room pretty well, but the kitchen tends to be steamy. Furthermore, for some reason I was thinking these were like crunchy sticks somehow. When I hear the word "stick," I think "crunchy." You know, like a stick from a branch on a tree. But these sticks are gummy, which of course makes them even more slimy, gooey, and sticky in this June heat. I could have just gone ahead and read the label on the product I was buying, but well...woulda, coulda, shoulda. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I wasn't really thinking when I bought these and they were kind of doomed from the start. Popsicles would have been a much wiser purchase.

There's a ridiculous amount of raspberry goo on the inside of these things. And I personally don't feel like this particular dark chocolate blends very well with the sweet raspberry jelly nonsense within it. But on the flip side, I must admit that it does taste like raspberry. Not like super sweet fake Jolly Rancher blue raspberry, and not like actual raspberries fresh off the vine, but maybe exactly halfway between the two. Something like a Chambord-flavored jelly candy if you will, but not as rich. It's not bad, it's just not my thing—though I've had higher quality raspberry cordials that I did enjoy significantly more than these candies. 

Sonia does like dark chocolate, although it's a very infrequent indulgence for her, and when she does eat it, it's in very small amounts. She's less than enthused about these candies as well. She's also not a huge fan of raspberry flavored candy. This is one of those instances where our take on a product might be completely different from someone who loves dark chocolate and raspberry candy, so we invite you to share your thoughts in the comments below. I give these "sticks" two and a half stars. Sonia's gonna go with three on this one.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Trader Joe's Fruit Frenzy Bars II

Wait....there's the Roman numeral two? As in, like, Trader Joe's Fruit Frenzy Bars...the sequel? More fruit, more frenzy, more bars, or what? I've been a fairly observant Trader Joe's shopper over the past few years, but either I've been extremely sheltered in these Pittsburgh area stores (it happens!) or I've been completely oblivious (also very possible, ask my wife!), but I've never even heard of or seen the original Fruit Frenzy Bars that the existence of this product implies also existed. I was very excited to try these, even though, let's face it, the sequels almost always suck compared to the original. Prime example: any Matrix movie after the first (I'd be much happier never seeing Keanu Reeves pulling a Kevin Bacon and showing us his butt ever again). Although, sometimes the sequels are good, like the Lord of the Rings trilogy. If only the ending of Return of the King didn't end six times before it actually did, finally, end. This scene was officially where the the climax jumped the shark.

Yes, I went to college in the early 2000s, how can you tell? Also, do people still use the phrase "jump the shark"? Maybe I'll ask my years-younger-than-me coworkers when I'm not bothering them with computer questions because anything beyond Windows XP confounds the crud out of me.

Anyhow, once these frosty fruity frenzi-ful frisky frolics were found, I knew right where they truly belonged: in my belly.  Once summer begins roaring with heat rising and humidity spiking, any icy cool treat I can ingest to aid with chilling my body from the inside out, I'm down with.

To me, these are not disappointing in the least. As the picture suggests, there's three different flavor levels to work through. First up is grape. Starts off a little weak, if you ask me. I mean, it's not bad, but it doesn't taste overly grape-y. Granted, there's not a lot of added sugar (at least compared to the typical ice cream truck treat), so maybe that's why it tasted a little toned down. Sandy said the grape kinda reminded her of iced tea - in fact, she was a little surprised when I informed her it was, in fact, grape. Not that it really tastes like tea, just kinda like watered-down sweetness, which is what a lot of the local dairy swill masquerading as iced tea tastes like around these parts. Give me Rosenberger's over Turner's any day. Still, the Grape Level tasted alright, and not an awful way to start.

Next up: Tangerine. Light and citrusy. Otherwise, a little nondescript,but yummy nonetheless.A palate cleanser, almost, if you will, in order to make way for the truly great part: the blood orange. Oh man. This is where it got truly good, the flavorful finale, the citrusy climax, the orangey apex. Loved it. Powerfully sweet and a little tart, just like a truly great orange, delivering icy cool refreshment with a taste that pleasantly lingers. Loved it. 

Sandy actually liked the grape most of all, and didn't care for the tangerine or orange all that much; then again, she's not a citrus addict like me. Weirdo. Technically, I suppose we could share a popsicle and each get the parts we like without too much grumbling. After all, these are kinda mammoth. In case the picture doesn't give you a good sense of scale, they're about the exact same height as an iPhone, and while a couple smidges narrower on the width, the popsicles are much thicker on the depth. This wouldn't be a treat to give to a young kid and expect them to finish. Also, you'd have to have some OxyClean on stand by. I see what my toddler can do with a single M&M and am amazed. For something like $3 for the box of four, it's not a bad bargain at all. Sandy's lowballing with a two, so I'm overcompensating with my score, but only slightly.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fruit Frenzy Bars II: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, May 30, 2014

Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices

Man, there's some times when I begin to feel old.

I'm not just talking about the ever-emerging bald spot, or the semi-regular chiropractic appointments. it's the other, smaller kinda stuff. Like the extra stiffness in my ankles when I wake up. Like lusting after low interest rates and not the newest gizmo I wouldn't know what to do with anyways. Or realizing there is such a thing as "I'm playing Pearl Jam too loud" when all by myself in the car or wishing the women at the bar (on the few occasions I go out) would use their "inside voice." Now, I won't reveal how old I actually am, because if I did, probably half of you out there would want to reach through whatever you're screen you're staring at right now and smack the stuff outta me, and rightfully so, and let's keep this friendly.

I bring this up because I seem old (to myself, at least), while really, I'm not. Kinda like these Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices. They seem like old, crusty, dried up mummified remains of apples, while really, of course, they're not. Just freeze dried, however that works.

Hate to bring up a negative first, as usually that's not the way I roll, but it seems appropriate. What makes them seem old to me is the texture of them. There's a little crispiness, yeah, but there's a compressed Styrofoam quality to them that honestly reminds me of stale cereal. Of course, there's not too much of another way a dehydrated apple slice could feel, so take that for what little it's worth.

I will admit, I was pretty surprised with the taste. Like a good Fuji apple, it's a strong, vibrant flavor - tart, almost bordering on sour except for a little tinge of sweetness. Honestly, I didn't expect that for something that, based solely on appearance, seems like a dried up shell of the real deal. It's kinda like those TJ crispy oranges in that regard. But like those oranges, the complete lack of any juiciness kinda left me wanting the real deal.

I'm an apple-lovin' guy who regularly eats at least two a day, so while I appreciate what Trader Joe's is trying to pull off here, they just don't completely do it for me. This all sounds so negative, and I don't mean to be (maybe it's me being cranky - getting old again!), so let's hit some rapid-fire positives here: Great work desk stash-a-snack. Satisfies crunchy, sweet, candy cravings in healthy way. Toddler loved them. Easy to eat just a few, then put back down for later - good for snacking, but not feeding-frenzy trigger worthy. Lots of Vitamin C, less chance of scurvy. Priced okay at $3 a bag.

Sandy agrees with much of the above, adding that she wonders if they'd be good with oatmeal. Merits an experiment, I suppose, although I'm not too inclined one way or another to pick them again or not. Kinda one of those "If they fall in my cart, or the kiddo insists, I won't be upset" kinda deals. That means a middling score from us both.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons


Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Trader Joe's Beef and Pork with Cracked Pepper Snack Stick

My toddler, 21 months old, is completely irrational and makes no sense. Surprise!

I mean, M (as I'll call her) will happily eat meat...as long as Sandy and I don't make it or give it to her. My dad makes her bacon? Right down the hatch. Go over to my brothers to grill some burgers or hot dogs? Yumz. Even the sketchy-lookin' chicken at her school? If given the opportunity, yes. Heck, she even happily munched on some Spam my folks gave her last summer on vacation as Sandy and I took off on a date night. We make her anything meatlike at all? With only one notable exception, she won't touch it and will make a grimacing, pouty "meat face" as she turns her head away and firmly says "NO!!!"

That's pretty unlike me. I'm casually working on a spreadsheet for all the different animals I've consumed, and part of me is jealous of Nathan's situation growing up. Give me meat whenever I can get it, and if it happens to be in some sort of snacky, shelf-stable form, I'm all for it as well. Kinda hard to grill a steak at the cubicle, y' know.

Enter Trader Joe's Beef and Pork with Cracked Pepper Snack Stick. Ay yi yi, that's a mouthful. Imagine, in another world, how different those old Randy Macho Man Savage commercials would be with this name. Seems like a brand new product, costs a buck, lacks the usual TJ ampersand, and looks like yummy snacky meat to try out at work, so made for a natural pick up.

Pretty good, if you ask me. It's more the "summer sausage" style of meat stick versus the beefy mush of a Slim Jim (not hatin', just sayin'). It looks like about the normal snack stick size of about 8 inches or so. And listen, I'm not gonna sit around and make the argument that this is a healthy snack, because it's not exactly. But, for the relative world of snack sticks, it does seem like a healthier pick up than the ol' gas station standby - less fat, less calories, less sodium.

And the taste doesn't suffer much for it, depending on how much cracked pepper is in your stick. I've had two - the first one I sampled, there wasn't a lot, so it seemed like an okay, not great, couple of bites. Stick No. 2 had much more pepper, which not only added a healthy amount of spice but kinda wakened the rest of the flavors too, like the salt and garlic. For a little satiety staying power, grab an apple or a cheese stick and some water - before consuming, I was pretty hungry, and this helped hold me over for a couple hours. Might be good to toss in a backpack for a light hiking trip.

Sandy's not big on these kinda snacks, so again I'm turning to my coworker Alan, who apparently is honing his TV pitchman skills when he stated this: "A meat stick overflowing with juiciness…this meat was good! The casing had sea salt brine that gave excellent flavor that one would seek from a meat stick, the cracked black pepper provided a nice subtle spice, add some garlic and you have one tasty piece of meat. I thoroughly enjoyed eating my meat as I am sure you will too!" He added more cracked pepper would be his only request. We're both wavering between a 4 and 4.5, so here's one of each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Beef and Pork with Cracked Pepper Snack Stick: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Pomegranate Seeds

I'm usually not a fan at all of those stupid e-card meme things that float all around Facebook all too often, but I saw one the other day I actually kinda marginally liked. In case you didn't feel like clicking the link, it's no-nose business lady in a power suit saying "Chocolate comes from cocoa, which is a tree. That makes it a plant. Chocolate is salad." Actually, now that I've been forced to look at it again, I kinda hate it. But I guess I can appreciate the sentiment, because as much as I like veggies, I no doubtedly like chocolate even better.

Well, if chocolate isn't really salad, maybe the next best thing is chocolate covered fruit? That's a good way to justify a lot of cocoa-consumption, right?

If that's your train of thought, you can do better than Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Pomegranate Seeds.

There's just something off about them. It's not the chocolate, which is, as usual, pretty good dark chocolate unto itself. Sandy said the bite feels a little off - the seeds don't exactly crunch nor are they particularly juicy like regular pomegranate seeds. It makes sense to me for them to not be all soft and squishy, so I'd side with them being a little drier and crispier/crunchier. The taste is a little funky, though - it's not a smooth flavor but more discombobulating between the rich dark chocolate and sharply tart/sweet pomegranate. It might even get accented a little further by added pomegranate powder, I don't know. But kinda ends up as a sickly sweet muddied flavor, which at least keeps me from eating too many at once. I think the only reason I've eaten the two midsized handfuls I have is because of the complete lack of chocolate in my diet recently, and out of obligation for you, our faithful reader.

It's a little disappointing, because I thought at time of purchase the choco-covered seeds would be a nifty little snack. At least I'll know next time to skip on by them. Sandy agreed, mainly for the texture related issue, giving them a measly two. Maybe I'm still just a little bitter over the soy chorizo fiasco, because a two is all this'll get from me as well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Pomegranate Seeds: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Trader Joe's Natural Buffalo Jerky

I was going to buy more turkey jerky, but I was afraid I might gobblegobble it all up.

Then I thought maybe I'd get more salmon jerky. I wonder what in the heck spawned that idea.

Then I recalled my coworker promised me some kangaroo jerky, and that made feel very hoppy. 

But I got me some Trader Joe's Natural Buffalo Jerky anyways because, umm, Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo? Right. I have no idea what that means, and I'm not even an intimidating American bison from Western New York State.

Nah, I bought the buffalo jerky because of the high recommendations of you, our faithful readers, and needing a shelf stable, tasty, protein-laced snack for work as part of a diet/exercise regimen I'm trying out (down about 4 pounds in a week!). As much as I'd love to have a Foreman grill at my cubicle, I don't think I could swing that. I'd rather fight for a yoga ball to sit (a la the mayor in "Portlandia") on instead of our 0 WAR* office chairs anyways.

You know, I swore I had this a few months back while on a massive jerky tilt, and thought I wasn't too terribly impressed. I remembered dry, tough stringiness without much flavor. Maybe that was just an exceptionally sad sack, or equally as possible, my brain checked out completely, because this is good, good, good jerky. Darn good. Each chunk I sampled was actually soft and tender, like 90% dehydrated slices of buffalo steak rather than jerky. No stringiness. No tough little bits to dig out from molar crevices. Just soft, sweet buffalo meat.

And I do mean sweet. Apple cider vinegar was a brilliant call as it shines through, yet it's balanced out by a little smokiness and slight bit of sugar. Very tasty. Just...it says "spicy" on the package. I don't expect a Tabasco-laden karate chop to the taste buds, but there's not quite enough, at least not upfront. Some sneaks back up the windpipe, but just even a scant shake of black or even crushed red pepper, just to give a little hint of heat, would've really taken it to the next level. Still, I'm very appreciative of the flavor which, even though there's a good bit of sodium each serving, is still much less than many competitors.

Alan, my loyal jerky companion (who actually did supply some kangaroo jerky, which was also tasty yet strangely reminiscent of a Hebrew National hot dog) agreed, giving a description that only he can. I quote: "More buffalo tender than jerky.  Consistent meat, no filler, smooth like the first hit off a Marlboro Red.  Perfection transcended upon the combination of sugar, soy sauce, and apple cider vinegar.  Creeper spice, nothing on initial tasting, but snuck up behind and bit the tongue."

I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want: the term "creeper spice" to catch on. Wonder which one she was. Zig a zig ha!

Seriously, though, good jerky, probably the best I've had in recent memory. Price isn't too bad: $5.99 for a 3.5 ounce bag. You'd be hard-pressed to spend less elsewhere, even at the online mecca of Amazon. Just needs that extra kick of spice, and it'd be a Pantheon shoo-in. As is, it knocks at the very door.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Natural Buffalo Jerky: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Sorry, baseball nerd talk....it's almost Opening Day! And yes, our office chairs are Ryan Doumit...at best. Which is kinda appropriate if you think about it.       

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Trader Joe-San's Wasabi Peas

“The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson

This is one of those "unsexy" bagged products that we generally avoid reviewing, at least while there are still weird, complicated dishes left on TJ's shelves that are as of yet unreviewed. But honestly, these understated little snackable morsels are what drew me to Trader Joe's in the first place, some 10 years ago. And not just the wasabi peas. When you're sitting on a park bench next to some local yokel that hasn't discovered Trader Joe's yet, and he sees you snacking on Orange Flavored (Dried) Cranberries, just think of the power you have over him when he realizes you're not snacking on raisins. Imagine that transcendent moment of mindblowing revelation that guy has—this poor schmuck who just realized that "craisins" were a thing—when he realizes you're snacking on orange flavored dried cranberries. Similar mind-altering epiphanies occur when that same dude who thinks you're crunching on peanuts realizes you're eating peas covered in wasabi mustard. If you're in NYC or L.A., you're probably thinking, "Yeah right! As if there are people who don't know about Trader Joe's Wasabi Peas yet." But trust me, in middle America, those people exist. They're still the majority in a lot of small towns. And I'm not belittling them. I used to be one of them. They're good, God-fearing Americans that aren't fortunate enough to have a Trader Joe's yet. 

But for the rest of us, the indoctrinated city-dwellers, Trader Joe's is nothing new. Sometimes when I'm meeting someone for the first time and I'm telling them about how I rob banks for a living, I often slip in something about my hobbies: this blog, for example. And I swear, on more than one occasion, the person has nodded his head, recollecting a life-changing event involving a stranger on a park bench with a mysterious snack bag, and said something along the lines of, "Yeah. That's cool. Trader Joe's. I love their wasabi peas." There's something iconic about these wasabi peas. And I'm not going to erroneously assume that TJ's is the only place you can get wasabi peas. But I might make the bold assertion that TJ's is the leading force in the world for making wasabi peas mainstream. They didn't invent the orange craisin. They brought the orange craisin to the masses. Actually, maybe Ocean Spray did that. But that doesn't support the point I'm trying to make. So never mind.

As for the peas themselves, they're very crunchy. They don't taste much like peas to me. It's more of a nutty flavor. They're similar to peanuts in terms of size and crunchability, too. Their wasabi level is not unlike that of the wasabi seaweed. Wanna freak out a Canadian tourist? Eat wasabi seaweed next to him on a park bench. Say, "They don't sell this at Tim Hortons, eh?" 

Can you tell I'm bitter about the USA not even medaling in hockey?

So if you haven't checked these peas out already, go ahead and do so. Find your favorite park bench and blow someone's mind. Be warned, though, it's difficult to eat a bunch at one time. Try them on a salad or in soup. They're tasty-ish, but the novelty factor does wear off eventually. Sonia gives them 3.5 stars. Me too.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.