Trader Joe's Fruit & Nut (& Other Stuff) Crisps

Petrified fruitcake slices.

Not the most flattering of descriptions, I know. But that's what I'm going with here as the opening line of this review. If you think there's any way you could ever be into Grammy's old-fashioned fruitcake—particularly a specimen from, I don't know, the 1920's?—left on a shelf to harden and crustify into a nearly rock-like state, yet paradoxically retain a fair amount of freshness flavor-wise, then read on. If that's something you don't think could ever work or that you would never ever try, then there's not a whole lot of hope you'll like this product, in my estimation.

I used the term "rock-like" above. I won't take it back just yet, but I'll elaborate. Rocks are extremely hard, obviously, but when broken into very thin pieces, in the manner of slate rock, for example, they're also quite frangible. Same with these crisps. They're not unlike bagel chips, texture-wise, but they're darn solid. Brittle. They shatter in your mouth. Their explosive kinetic energy can, however, be tempered with cheese. We did indeed enjoy them with a nice chevre, and not only was their flavor enhanced, but their intense oral fragmentalization was considerably mitigated.

In the taste department, they're impressive. I mean, that is, if you like fruitcake. These are fruit crisps—fruit and nut (and other stuff) crisps—to be exact. We don't see parentheses a lot in the titles of Trader Joe's products. I'm not sure how I feel about the use of parentheses in general, let alone in the title of a product or film or album or work of art. But I digress. Let's just be thankful they can't get away with using that trick in the ingredients list just yet.

Ingredients: Fruit, nuts, (other stuff).

Although, isn't that what it feels like when they put "other natural flavors" at the end of the list? Just to be clear, they did not do that here, but I see it far too often on various products. Again with the digression...

I was saying the taste of this product is nutty, fruity, slightly sweet, and it flaunts a rich bready flavor, as well. As mentioned above, it blends perfectly with chevre. TJ's also recommends serving the crisps with brie or cured meats on the packaging. We can't vouch for those, but I'd imagine they'd work just fine, too.

If snacking on nutty, fruity glass shards sounds appealing, put your favorite oral healthcare specialist on speed dial and dig in.

Maybe I'm exaggerating about the texture.

Am I exaggerating about the texture?

Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Slims

"Hey are you gonna make a Fatboy Slim reference in your review?"

"Wha..who?...Fatboy Slim? Jeez, now that's a name from forever ago. What brought him up?"

"Well Pageflip* says 20 years ago he had the number one hit and you're reviewing the Joe-Joe's Slims so maybe I thought..."

"Ah okay, I thought maybe you were poking fun at me again, like I'm the fat boy who wants to be slim again."

"Ha, that's true too. Stop eating all the damn cookies then."

Actual real conversation this evening between my wife and me. Well, close enough. I don't know what app she was looking at but Pageflip sounded right in my head, but then again so do Spacebook and MyFace.

Well, here we are. Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Slims. Unlike the actual product, that name is kinda mouthful. It's like Trader Joe's³ Slims. That's a litte more streamlined if not confusing for the non-math savvy crowd.

Take a basic Joe-Joe, or your basic Oreoesque sandwich cookie. Make a thin version. Voila. It's an idea that's been done and around for a while. Some people seem to love slim thin cookies. I'm more indifferent. I want something big and crunchy to really bite into, instead of something wispy and snappy.

That's kinda the experience here with the TJ's slims. There's not enough cookie wafer to really develop that more enjoyable (to me) experience of a standard issue cookie. It's almost more cracker than cookie in a way. The sandwich creme doesn't suffer as much, even there's less of it. In some ways the creme even stands out a little more. My guess is the ratio got wacked with the slender crisps serving as the base or not, which is definitely not a complaint.

But yeah, the classic sandwich cookie, except thin. Twist apart and scrape out the creme. Dunk them in a glass of milk. Eat a couple and be good. Eat a few more and console yourself with the fact that two of these maybe equals one regular cookie. Eat the whole box over a course of a week (like I did because NO ONE ELSE WAS TOUCHING THEM) and draw the ire of your spouse. It's all good. You don't need to be skankin' like a Rockefeller and pretend to be all classy with them. Not sure if I have to celebrate these cookies, but I'll praise them like I should with a solid not bad.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Joe-Joe Slims: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pistachio Gelato

If one having a mustache is "mustachioed," then is one having a pistachio, or pistachio-flavored product, "pistachioed"?

If so, then neither Sonia nor I have been pistachioed in a while. 

We've had plenty of gelato here and there, particularly Talenti, which, incidentally, is the brand Trader Joe's is emulating so obviously with this plastic jar of gelato. We love those jars. Long after the delicious product has been consumed, they can be used for storage, or even for cereal or beverages. So convenient. Like a souvenir cup with every purchase. And once it's outlived its usefulness, right in the recycling bin it goes.

But it's been a hot minute since I've partaken in a pistachio-flavored frozen dessert of any kind. And we're reviewing the food product, not the packaging, right?

Fortunately, the food within the jar outshines the jar itself—even with that sexy, green Starbucks-like emblem. The flavor, to me, is immediately recognizable as pistachio. It's nutty and sweet—but not too sweet. There's a good bunch of pistachio pieces scattered evenly throughout the gelato, and they blend so perfectly, I can't imagine a better nut to dairy ratio.

Sonia thought she tasted coconut just as much as pistachio. If I eat the product with that in mind, I guess I can see what she's talking about. Coconut oil is one of the main ingredients, and coconut and pistachio are actually very similar, dessert-like, nutty flavors if you think about it. They're both right up there with peanuts, pecans, and almonds as far as tasty nuts (and legumes) you might want to throw in a pie...or cake...or ice cream.

And the texture is just what you want a gelato to be—very similar to ice cream but denser, thicker. It's best when you eat it nice and cold, but not frozen solid. It's gotta be riiight when the outer edges of the gelato are getting slightly drippy—right when it's stiff, but slightly pliable, so you can appreciate both its heaviness and its delicateness.

I, for one, think it's a very tasty product and would happily purchase it again. Sonia liked it as well, although she'd like to see whole pistachios in the mix, rather than bits. We're aware TJ's has at least one other flavor of this Talenti-esque gelato...Caramel Cookie Crunch, which was unavailable at the time we purchased this jar. Perhaps that's another review for another day...stay tuned.

Four stars a piece on this pistachioed product.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.