Trader Joe's Hobo Bread

This product is called "Hobo Bread" because hobos used to make it during The Great Depression. They'd cook it in old tin cans, hence the cylindrical, tube-like formation. I imagine them baking the bread over large barrel fires under bridges and overpasses, feeding scraps to stray dogs...although dogs aren't supposed to eat raisins...and I'm not sure if the average hobo knows that. I mean, I don't want to sound arrogant. Hobos probably know as much as I do. Although, most of what I "know" comes from Wikipedia and Google searches. So really it probably boils down to whether the hobos have internet access or not. I guess most do if they use the library. But I mean, this is just silly, since nobody had internet access during The Great Depression. I bet it cost like a week's wage for internet service back then. Right?

Anyway, hobos no longer have to bake this bread themselves. They can buy it at TJ's for about $3. Not a bad deal since it's quite filling, plus there are 12 servings in the bag. It's a simple treat—moist bread filled with raisins, walnuts, brown sugar, and molasses. I've never been a huge fan of molasses, but in this case, it's not overwhelming. Noticeable, definitely...but bearable even for me.

The bread's not super sweet, but it's richer, denser, and "wetter" than traditional raisin bread. It crumbles apart very easily, and similar to the Irish soda bread, it would be difficult to heat it up in a toaster without losing a few chunks to the infernal abyss. Conventional oven or toaster oven? Go for it. But I preferred mine at room temperature, sans fixins. So did Sonia, who thinks the bread might have lost a bit of its signature softness and moistness had we eaten it heated. She's a much bigger admirer of molasses than I, and accordingly, she gives this Hobo Bread four stars. I'll throw out three.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Soft & Juicy Mandarins

So, everyone has their own little pet irrational fears, right? I sure do. My big one is being buried alive. No idea where that one comes from...but just imagine the horror. No. Not going there. This scene from Kill Bill alternately inspires and scares the living bejeezus out of me. When I've shuffled off this mortal coil (or, aheam, appeared to have enough), cremate me, please. I wish to take no chances.

To a much lesser (though perhaps more realistic) extent: Scurvy. Not that I have a great grasp of what it actually is. But it just sounds so...unpleasant. And it can be deadly. Or maybe just mostly deadly, just enough for everyone to think you've crossed over to the other side, have your burial, just for you to wake up...ugh, there I go again.

Anyways, scurvy adversion must be high on my priority list, because I love me some citrus, especially mandarins and clementines and all sorts of goodies chock full of Vitamin C. At family meals where clementines are present (like a holiday brunch), it's not uncommon for me to chow down at least four while wondering how many more I can sneak without my mom or sister-in-law giving me the stinkeye. It's practically tradition at this point.

Here's another great way to enjoy them: Trader Joe's Soft & Juicy Mandarins. No peeling. No sticky fingers. No random juice puddles, and the chances of a stragglin' seed are pretty slim. No potentially offensive odors (I have a coworker who has a reaction to even the smell of oranges). Just soft, juicy, ultra sweet mandarin sections.

Each piece, though dried and tissue-y feeling on the outside, still has a fair amount of squish inside. It's not like the firm flesh of a fresh fruit, of course, but that nice dried feel, like a dried apricot. With a little imagination, like a big, soft jelly bean or so I told myself eating them over the past week or so while the coworkers were passing around the Jelly Bellies. A lot of the natural flavor comes through, too - so sweet and tart, like a fresh segment - despite the added sugar that I somehow missed in the initial version of this post. Ugh. Why do that to some perfectly good fruit? Or add sulfur to preserve? I'd prefer neither to be there, but the end result (unlike these abominations) is tasty enough that I don't wish to create a huge fuss about it either. Edit, note, and move on.

Anyways, it defintiely takes some restraint for me to not eat the whole bag over the course of just a shift or two at work. It's an easy reachable munchie that's pretty darn healthy, for a good price too (about $3). The soft 'n juicy mandarins are tentatively joining my usual work snack rotation - oh, if not for the added sugar... Sandy likes 'em quite a bit too just for their kinda-candy-but-not vibe and quick bite pick me up value.She gives them a four, while I have to slide in a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Soft & Juicy Mandarins: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Coconut Macaroons

Precisely what we need once Easter has passed and all the candy that we haven't devoured or the bunny hasn't doled out is now on clearance - another sweet treat review!!! Wilfred Brimley, just send me the box, stat, I'm gonna get me a case of the diabeetus any day now.

Yeah, a lot of fuss gets made this time of the year about Easter candy, like the peanut butter eggs (oh goodness), the jelly beans, the candy eggs, the chocolate bunnies. For me, and I know I'm weird and about to gross out 90% of you, but black jelly beans - those are where it's at. My absolute favorite. Aside from maybe Cadbury Creme Eggs. And anything Reese's-related.

But ever hear anything about Passover treats? No? Me neither. I guess in the name of equal opportunity sweet-samplin', when Sandy and I spotted the Trader Joe's Chocolate Coconut Macaroons with the "Kosher for Passover" label stamped right up top, we just had to try.

To get this out of the way right now, check this handy visual guide to distinguish between macarons and macaroons. These, with the double-o diphthong, are of the coconuttier non-sandwich variety. Or at least they're supposed to be. Honestly, you could tell me they were a special edition Entenmann's concoction, and I would have believed you, because it's pretty much exactly what they taste like. Whereas almost every other macaroon I've ever had were chockfull of chewy coconut, these aren't. Instead these macaroons, while definitely having coconut flavor (and a good dash of citrusy orange peel, too), the overriding texture and taste is just super dense cake-y stuff. I don't really understand how that works, seeing as "shredded coconut" is the number one ingredient. I could understand if it were almond or coconut flour, because of the density, but honestly, there just wasn't that much shredded coconut in ours. Great, now I'm questioning my sanity. The chocolate coating tastes and feels just like the gas station packaged donut variety too - not bad, but nothing too terribly special either.

Anyways, Sandy and I weren't saddened to pick the macaroons up for the $3.99 they set us back. But a repeat purchase just isn't too likely. After I sampled two of them, I more than had my fill. The remaining ones slowly trickled away the next couple days and when I saw the empty container in the trash, I wasn't bitter. If you need some macaroons for a Passover partaking, or if you just have a good hankerin' for some, go to your local bakery instead - clear advantage even considering the "convenience cost" as well as potentially higher actual cost. Some things are okay to do halfway, others aren't. Speaking of halfway....

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Coconut Macaroons: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.