Trader Joe's Island Salsa

Memorial Weekend is only about a month away! You know what that means - the unofficial start of summer and all that. And that means vacation time! For a lot of you out there, that means one big thing: the beach.

Listen: I'm not opposed to beaches. I can spend a day there and reasonably relax. But maybe it's my fair gingery complexion that causes sunburn too easily, or my general aversion to sand in uncomfortable places, but given the choice, send me off to the mountains (cannot wait for a weekend canyoneeering in Zion National Park in June). For the whole family, we have our sights set on a Pirates road trip which true to tradition will probably include a stop at TJ's and a zoo. We'll probably spend a day at Presque Isle (best lake beach!) but other than that, islands? Beaches? All that? not in our plans.

Buuuuuuut...if you want to send your tastebuds on an early tropical vacation, you can easily pick up a jar of Trader Joe's Island Salsa. $2.99 on your local TJ shelf.

Even for us admittedly nonbeachy folks, this is some good, good salsa. The mango and pineapple base offers a sweet citrusy opening flourish that, while a little cloyingly candylike, quickly resides. In the middling transition, there's a quick hit of the bell peppers and onions before ending up with a mostly subtly spicy bow. Now, I said mostly. Depending on perspective, if you get the right or wrong bite into one of the very ripe red jalapenos, the heat goes up quite noticeably. But if that happens, just pop in another bite real quick, and chances are, the smooth sweetness will soothe your burning buds.

Like most fruit salsas, it is kinda delicate in flavor. The salsa was a great accompaniment for some tortilla chips, and atop a mahi mahi burger....heaven. Grilled chicken would also be a great pairing, whereas things like beef tacos I wouldn't see as much, unless you're into that kinda thing. 

I'm not quite sold on the word "chunky" in the description, though. Really, the whole salsa flows fairly alike to crushed pineapple, so there are small little chunks, but no mega veggie or fruit boulders. I guess if pressed I could say chunky, but to me, it's much in the moderate middle between smooth and chunky.

Also, as a huge bonus for my beloved wife: no tomatoes. None. That's got to be the reason she gives it a perfect five. I'm not able to ask her, since she's not quite 18 months old yet, but I'd love to know what my younger daughter B thinks - she was eating this by the spoonful as happy as could be. Well, until she caught that one jalapeno...but even though, after making a face for a couple minutes, she went back for more. Regardless, Sandy in a rare flash of exuberance goes with an all-out perfect five for her score. I want to go there myself, but fruit salsa aren't my bag, but this is undoubtedly the best fruit salsa I've had that I can remember (at least in the jarred grocery category)...alright, alright, we'll Pantheon it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Island Salsa: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits

Being an adult is great. I mean, aside from bills and responsibilities and stuff. But otherwise, it's a pretty good deal. You get to whatever you want whenever you want, and in a childhood dream come true for me, you can eat whatever you want when you want. Want to eat three breakfasts a day? Go for it. Pizza for breakfast, tacos for lunch, ice cream for dinner? Why not? I mean, your cardiologist may disagree, and it'd be prudent to mix in a salad, but that's not what I mean. I mean: you can do that if you want to. No one can stop you. That, to me, is awesome.

So, conceivably, you can have cookies for breakfast. But maybe to feel better about it, we can call them something else. The little lies we tell ourselves to get through, I guess, or maybe, if we're spotted crushing cookies down the cram hole by the stray child , we can say, "Oh these aren't cookies. These are Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits."

Yup. "Biscuits" is what they're going with here. Bwahahaha. No way. These things are cookies through and through. I mean, they're even sold right alongside all the other cookies, and not in the energy/breakfast bar area.

These cookies biscuits  morning-minded munchers are pretty tasty, though. For its basic concept, think of a more granular oblong graham cracker, and thant's fairly close in both taste and texture. There's a little something extra, though, and it's not the blueberries. Vaguely familiar, tip of tongue, couldn't quite place it till scanning the ingredients - rye flakes. There's a pretty hefty dose - not enough to be offensive or anything, but it definitely adds a blueberr-rye dimension. The berries themselves are of the typical dried variety, and intermittently and unevenly sprinkled through out - some wafers were sans berries, others where blue enough from berries to look almost like a flattened Smurf.

As you can probably see, these are some fragile biscuits too. I did nothing to those pictured except the normal rigors of a morning commute to my desk, and I got left with a pile of pieces. So, they're probably not the best for on the go, like while driving, unless you don't mind brushing a dusting of vaguely greasy crumbs off your shirt.

And don't count on them for a full breakfast. A good morning snack, or part of a healthy breakfast, with some yogurt perhaps? Sure. The biscuits were a welcome addition to my usual apple and coffee workweek breakfast, but despite all that fiber, I was still hungry for lunch not all that much later than usual.

Anyways, the wife and both like them, as do our kiddos when we let them have a munch. Save the morning cookies for the adults, kids. For only about $3 or $4 for a fivepack each with four in there, it's not a bad deal, either. These aren't my favorite things ever, but they're good enough to warrant a repeat purchase already, and I'd love to see these expanded into different flavors..like, say, cherry? Sounds delish to me. Matching 3.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Apricots

I like these better than actual apricots. As you might have guessed by the name of the product, these little guys are about halfway between dried apricots and fresh apricots. 

They're sliced very similarly to traditional dried apricots. However, these are also frozen. I think that's why I like them best of any apricot I've ever had. I really like that cold, icy texture. 

On a recent podcast episode, Russ indicated that he preferred fresh apricots. I'm sure there will be plenty of you that fall into that camp. There's no substitute for the original. But for those of you that like pre-packaged, frozen fruit or dried apricots, these will undoubtedly be a big hit.

Sonia raved about these things. She's going to give them four stars. Don't get me wrong, they're tasty, but I found the quality (at least in our bag) to be somewhat inconsistent. You can kind of tell from our picture there that some slices look pristine and perfectly ripe and others have spots or they're too dark. That slight inconsistency carries over into the taste/flavor category, also. Some slices were perfect, but others tasted a little too sour and weird. In general, though, I think they taste better than they look. I'll throw out three and a half stars here.

Click here to view the nutrition info.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sweet Plantain Chips

My apologies for my review on the dark chocolate pistachio toffee earlier this week, for two reasons: 1) I am clearly in the minority in regards to my opinion about the product and 2) In retrospect, after Nathan's reviews on both the Baby Bananas and the Apple + Coconut bars, it's apparent that this is simply fruit snacks week here. Let's not derail that train, please, and go full steam ahead with one of the newer taste sensations out there, Trader Joe's Sweet Plantain Chips!

Particularly astute readers, undoubtedly like yourself, may be thinking right now..."Didn't TJ's already have plantain chips?" Short answer: Affirmative. But they are not sweet. Instead, the ones that have been around for quite some time are a saltier, savorier cousin of these noobs. Those are kinda like potato chips, except made from plantains (duh). These sweet guys, though similar in crunch and texture, are something else altogether.

If for some reason you're not really sure what a plantain is like, every time you read it, think "starchier banana" and you'll be on the right path.

I'm trying not to get hooked on them. Trying very, very hard. Plantains always have had a soft place in my heart after a trip I went on down to Peru back in 2003, where I ate fried plantains for breakfast every morning. And these chips are just about the sweetest variation I've found yet...and it's all natural! Nothing added! Except a little oil to fry them up in, of course. But, there's this whole write up on the back, where the plantains used for these crunchers were allowed to sweeten and ripen to twice the sugar level (apparently measured in something called "brix," I never heard of it either) of normal plantains. How much of that is marketing and how much is accurate, well, I don't know - but dang. Very, very sweet, in a very ripe sense of the way, almost like these fruits were just abound freezerbound for plantain bread before they got swooped in on, sliced, fried, and bagged. Sneaky.

The end result are these oblong crispity-crunchety chippies that are arguably healthier than most potato chips, with an almost-not-quite-kettle crunch. They're perfect for kids, too - my 3.5 year old and almost 16 month old both love them, as well as some of the kids Sandy babysits a couple days a week. Also, they're very budget friendly at only a $1.79 for a fairly large bag.

No real complaints from me, although perhaps a slight smattering of cinnamon would help cut through the sweetness and tamper it down a smidge. But man...good chips. Sandy's not as huge a fan as I am - she's eaten a couple and shrugged. This just might turn into one of those "more for me" kinda scenarios, and believe me, no complaints.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Plantain Chips: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Apple + Coconut Fruit Bar

The last product I reviewed contained exactly one ingredient. This product contains exactly two. All fruits. That's some good eatin'. If only I stuck to such a diet all the time... 

A while back, we looked at the Apple + Banana and Apple + Mango Fruit Bars and found them to be fairly successful. This is apparently a new flavor—or perhaps one that somehow slipped through the cracks before. Either way, it's new to us, and we felt compelled to try it. For those of you not familiar with these bars, they're basically just pieces of two different fruits smashed together into a bar shape. Not very complicated, yet decidedly different from other fruit bars, fruit snacks, or dried fruit pieces you'll commonly find in supermarkets.

This flavor is most definitely my favorite so far. I was wondering how the unique texture of coconut would affect the bar and also how they'd incorporate the coconut pieces into it. Would they be coconut chips? Strips? Slivers? Slices? 

I think the best way to describe the coconut in this case is "bits." They're teensy tiny little coconut bits. But so too is the apple component of the bar this time. Apple bits. The fruits are all but pureed here. But they're seamlessly blended together to make one scrumptious, natural snack bar. It's moist, but not wet. And the flavor is absolutely stellar. It's nutty, sweet, and tastes like something way more indulgent than just coconut and apple. This simple product is much more than the sum of its parts. Four stars from Sonia. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dried Baby Bananas

Zombie fingers. That's how the TJ's employee described these to Sonia when she bought them. And he's not wrong, as you can clearly see from the picture below.

Each banana is about the size of my pinky finger—on average, anyway. They're sweet, chewy, and they taste surprisingly like actual bananas. They have the sweetness and flavor of a dark, overripe specimen—you know, the banana that's been sitting on the counter too long—but without the nasty mush that comes with it. 

Texture-wise, they're very similar to other dried fruits, not crunchy like banana chips. They're fairly firm, and for lack of a better term, I'd say they're slightly "leathery," although not in a bad way.

There's one ingredient: dried bananas. Amazing. I'm not sure if "baby bananas" are just young bananas or if they're a different strain of miniature banana altogether, but they're extraordinarily snackable in my opinion. I also can't tell if they just leave the peel on the banana or if they take it off. I would think they'd have to take it off, but then again, perhaps baby banana skins aren't particularly tough like grown-up banana peels. Furthermore, the drying process may counteract any toughness that one might encounter.

Health-wise, they're pretty much like big bananas. Any sugars present are completely natural. Plus, there's protein and lots of fiber and potassium. I've often felt like just a little bit of banana, but didn't want to commit to a whole big piece of fruit. My prayers have been answered. They come in a handy, resealable bag, too, so there's no pressure to eat the whole package. The convenience factor on these little, natural treats is very, very high.

If you're into the taste of super-ripe bananas and like the texture of dried apricots, figs, or prunes, then these will be right up your alley. Perfect snack for a long hike or camping trip. Double fours on this one.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Granny's Apple Granola Cereal

When I hear the words "granny" and "apple" in the same phrase, I naturally think of Granny Smith apples—especially when I see that lovely shade of light green. And although the ingredients don't specify what type of apples are used in this product (just says "organic dried apples") I'm pretty sure they're not Granny Smith. But that's not a bad thing in this case. I'm thinking Granny Smiths would have been too sour. The apples we find here are nice and sweet, and they mix very well with the organic oats sweetened with organic milled cane sugar. I was actually pretty pleased with the amount of apple bits throughout the cereal. There were walnuts, too, but those were fairly sparse in our box.

Apparently Sonia wishes there were more pieces of apple. Her comment: "I wish it had little pieces of apple in it." My reply: "It does." Her next comment: "Hmm funny I don't remember eating them. But then again I am a little weird." Oh, Sonia. In her defense, though, they do blend in pretty well with the rolled oats and other granola ingredients—visually, as well as flavor-wise. Strangely, she still liked it enough to give it four out of five stars.

It's a solid, hearty, granola-based cereal. Just think of any other granola cereal you've had from Trader Joe's or anywhere else for that matter, and throw in some dried apple bits, and that's pretty much what you have here in terms of taste and texture. Considering it's completely organic and naturally-flavored, I can't go lower than four stars either. Like Russ's last post, this product has been a mainstay on that TJ's cereal shelf for at least four or five years now—but we just tried it for the first time this past week and we're here to tell you that it's worth a purchase. It just might wind up on your grocery list week after week.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Triple Berry-O's

Sigh.

I had this completely, totally, fun, cute idea for this review of Trader Joe's Triple Berry-O's. Basically, it was going to a review from the standpoint of my three ("an' a haff!", as she proudly exclaims) year old of what I thought was her favorite cereal. I'm talking in-depth review and analysis, complete with bite-by-bite play-by-play, with telestrator and all. Might have even called Madden out of retirement for it.

But...M, in typical three an' a haff year old attitude, completely refused. Come to find out, she's more intrigued these days by "grandma crunchers wif brown sugar an' milk on dem" (i.e., Corn Chex) or "Corn Chex, cuz dey have corn on dem" (i.e., Kix - see the box) or Rice Krispies (no cute name for those) these days. When we ran out of all of those and had only Berry-O's left was she reluctantly willing to have them for breakfast once more. It helped that I fibbed that we were out of waffles and bread for toast. I swear, she used to eat an entire box, by herself, every week or so, not all that long ago.

Might be a good thing, though, because her food critic skills are AWFUL. I gave her a simple test, like Chef Ramsay's "Chicken, beef or pork?" taste test, only it was "blueberry, strawberry, or raspberry." I gave her a bite with one of each berry in it with her eyes closed, and asked her what berry she tasted. After the blueberry bite: "Nothin'!" This is after she said blueberry was her favorite. After raspberry: "Blueberry!" She did manage to get the strawberry, right, though, probably because of shape more than anything else.

Anyways, the TJ triple berry O's are pretty straightforward. I like the O's part - simple, basic honey oat munchers, like any other store brand. It's one of my favorite cereals, non-Cocoa Pebbles division. But, to be honest, I hate the berries part. Like any freeze dried fruit, they're too strong, too sweet, too acidic almost, too sugary, too jarring with the rest. If there's going to be fruit in my cereal, it's got to be fresh, because at least then I'll get that from an actual piece of fruit, not the dried up remaining shell of one. At least I'd say the box is 90% O's, 10% fruit (at most) so it's not anything to make too big a fuss out of.

Naturally, the berries are my kids' favorite part, so I can pick them out of my cereal, give the berries to them, win Best Daddy Ever award, not miss out on anything I like, and be left with a bowl of cereal I'm perfectly content with. Seriously, the look on their eyes when I give them a berry would look just like mine if you gave me a hundred dollar bill.

In M's words, "I used to like them, but now I only like dem a lil' bit." That's because "dey make me sticky." I'm not sure what she means either. When I asked her how many spoons she wanted to give them, she just grunted then asked if she could wear her jammies all day and when she could watch Daniel Tiger. Eh well. For $3.29, the O's were quite a regular pick up for us, and I get the appeal of them. Bonus points for being fairly nutritious and no silly cartoon characters or movie tie-ins. I recommend giving 'em a try.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Triple Berry O's: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Deglet Noor Dates

Just like most of my dates in high school, Trader Joe's Deglet Noor Dates are almost certain to not be around very long, so let's keep it short here.

As a first foray into the world of these smaller, firmer, and less smooshy cousin of the ever popular medjool dates, I'm almost equally a fan of these deglet noors. As they're already pitted, these are much more portable and kid friendly version, as well as possibly a better choice for some make-your-own appetizers and salads. But because they're more fiber-y and less fleshy than the aforementioned medjools, think through before using them in a recipe such as paleo pecan pie. The deglet noors are a touch sweeter, but in all taste fairly close to medjools. Much less sticky, too, to my kiddo's delight.

Here's a bonus though. The pound-plus pack of these guys? Only $2.99! Grading by the fact that a doublepounder of topnotch dates from Costco retails for about $9, that's a pretty good value. We'll like them as long as they're around, but don't it personally when one day they're just gone without warning - they're in the seasonal section, after all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Deglet Noor Dates: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Wrapped Dates Stuffed With Goat Cheese

Late December weekend. You know what that means: holiday parties all around! I have two or three this weekend, plus hosting one. Yikes!

Might as well bring something really easy and really tasty to share...like Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Wrapped Dates Stuffed With Goat Cheese. Seriosuly, rip a box open, stick in the oven for a couple minutes, and voila! You've got yourself one fancy hors d'ouevre. Each component works so seamlessly together - the medjool date, the goat cheese in the crevice where the pit was, and the apple smoked bacon wrapping it all up and holding it tight. It's a smoother-than-aniticipated bite that highlights the best aspects of everything involved - the salty-sweet awesomeness of truly good bacon, the soft creaminess of the cheese, the savory depth of a good date. I only wish for the price ($5 or $6 for a box of ten) either the dates would be a little larger, or there'd be a few more tossed in just to make it a little better value.

Bonus: As you may have heard on our podcast, my three year old made the acute observation that these look like Baby Jesus in the manger (date = manger, baby = cheese, bacon = blanket), and she's right. So, extra Christmas points for a delectable treat that points to the true meaning of the holiday. From the mouths of babes...

We like 'em. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Wrapped Dates Stuffed With Goat Cheese: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader José's Handcrafted Chocolate Raspberry Tamales

Please forgive my complete ignorance when I ask this question, but I seriously do not know the answer: Are dessert tamales an actual thing?

Yes, I know, you can do Google searches to find recipes to make your own. And of course, there's the fine fellows pictured to right - getting to them in just a minute here. But I've been to Mexico a couple times, have eaten many tamales down there...and all were delicious but decidedly undesserty. Same with Sandy. So do they exist elsewhere, or is this some gringo invention that came to be just because it sounded too darn good to not try?

Regardless of their origin, we've seen a lot of buzz about Trader Jose's Handcrafted Chocolate Raspberry Tamales on the interwebs. I was definitely intrigued, too, when Sandy snapped a pic of them while shopping one day while I was at work. Though we weren't sure what exactly to expect - corn masa-fied chocolate and fruit sounds potentially delicious but a little odd, perhaps - we knew we had to try.

Oh, good call. Good, good call. Listen: they may not be the prettiest treat when all done (especially after steaming them, like we did), but these tamales are downright delicioso. We got chocolate coming at ya two ways here: Cocoa powder in the masa and chocolate chunks in the middle. When prepared, those chunks melt down to a smooth, warm, almost fudgy filling. And corn mixed with chocolate isn't that weird when you think about it - I mean, Cocoa Puffs, right? But unlike the chosen cereal of my youth, these tamales feature a darker, more subdued variety of chocolate flavor, which pairs very well with the not-too-sweet/not-too-tart raspberry parts. I kinda wish these had a little more raspberry, to be honest, but the balance was approximate enough to not get me too riled up. There's definitely an added touch of cinnamon, too, which adds just a little nice subtle dimension.

One thing: These are a m-e-s-s mess mess mess. I've mastered eating most other tamales by hand without too much trouble, but with the chocolate ozzing and goozing everywhere, and the whole tamale being perhaps a little less structurally sound in its not-quite-brownie/not-quite-cake state of masa-matter (cocoa's fault?), you gotta go at these Aristrocrat style. Yup, a fork and plate. not a big deal, but if you're tired of constantly unloading and reloading the dishwasher, well, here's another dish. At least we have a dishwasher...learned the hard way sophomore year of college.

Not gonna lie: Sandy and I are plotting to stock the freezer with 'em. For only a buck each tamale for a four pack, it's a definite dessert win. However inspired, muchas gracias, Jose, mi amigo de comida.

Bottom line: Trader Jose's Handcrafted Chocolate Raspberry Tamales: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese

Lots of different kinds of cheese in the world, and from the looks of things, Trader Joe's carries a lot of them. There's some good solid favorites, some unusual ones (like a grill-worthy cheese? Inconceivable!), and, well, a few out-and-out bizarre ones like this chocolate-cheddar mash up from years back that was out right in time for Valentine's Day...

...but nothing, to my fairly faulty knowledge, has been quite like Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese. I gotta admit, the name sounded intriguing, even though I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. It didn't make the blog, but not long ago, Sandy and I enjoyed a rather delicious creamy cinnamon toscano that TJ's had out, and if this were anything similar, it'd be a slam dunk.

Well...it's not. Maybe I'm just used to good ol' 'murican-style cheddar from the great states of Vermont and Wisconsin, with its solid sharpness, its blocky bite, its wax-covered wonder. And maybe I've narrowed my scope of anything labelled as "English cheddar" to the shelves of TJ's and therefore subject to solely their selections, as perhaps unrepresentative of the entirety of the genre of English cheddar. But, just like another English cheddar we tried a few months back (the ones with caramelized onions, also not reviewed - hey, sorry, can't do it all!) - this stuff seems sad, soft, slightly soggy, kinda like a half-molten candle. It's so soft - almost more like a brie than most cheddar I'm used to - that I was half tempted to find a cracker and a knife to do some spreading. I bet you it would have worked.

Aside from its overall mushiness, the taste doesn't do the cheese all that many favors. The one reason that I ate more than a bite or two was to try and get past some initial bewilderment to try and discern a fair opinion about it. It didn't really work. First and foremost, there's no taste I'd label as "cheddar" or "cheese-esque" or "somewhat akin to a dairy product" poking through. Instead, it's just outright raisin-and-date tinged molasses-y sweetness. Aside from the aforementioned fruits, the taste I pick up more than anything else really sides towards brown sugar. In a different format, the taste could be rather appealing, but in this semi-solid limp waxy form, it just doesn't sit right at all. Which isn't to say I'm disgusted by it, but it's definitely a little out there. If the cheese were firmer, with the "toffee pieces" that the label touts adding a textural changeup instead of melding along with the rest, it'd be a significant improvement.

Sandy feels much the same.We popped in our first taste simultaneously, looked at each other, and made a face. After repeating this ritual a couple more times, we finally gave up. I don't feel as though we necessarily wasted our money on it (sold in various sized chunks for $8.99 a pound), and I'm willing to give another shot, perhaps with some crackers and a dark porter or stout within reach. But as is, we're gonna hit it with some double deuces.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Apple Bourbon BBQ Sauce

Let's see...Nathan has had some very favorable reviews recently on products that predominantly feature apples or bourbon, so how about something that has both apples and bourbon?

Indeed, there just may be a small revolution or passing trend going on with TJ's products: bourbon. First, there's that pecan pie filling (which of the many things my Aunt Brenda puts in hers, I am quite sure that bourbon is not one of them). I've also seen a bourbon barrel aged maple syrup which I haven't had the occasion to pick up yet, but really, I should (here's a quickie review here). And for those fortunate few who live in the right areas that fully recognize the 21st Amendment, TJ's actually has a pretty decent housebrand bourbon as well.

Now, there's Trader Joe's Apple Bourbon BBQ Sauce. You can't tell me that doesn't sound gooooood. I'm not  huge condiment guy - I like food to taste how it "should" taste - but I'll admit to a little puddle of drool when I first heard the word. I was due for a good mix up from my go-to barbecue sauce of choice anyways.

Gotta say I'm pretty well pleased overall. This is some thick, goopy, slow-movin' sauce, which is how it oughtta be. "Pretend there's a 57 on it and tap it!!!" Sandy cried out when I was trying to pour the first load onto my plate one night. If you have no idea what that means: here. I hate ketchip, but yeah, that method got the proper flow going. This was also when I first noticed little apple tidbits flinking around here and there - not enough to add any crunch, but a slightly noticeable textural variant.

And there's definitely more apple than bourbon going on here. In a lot of ways, this sauce tastes mostly like a pretty solid, decent barbeque baste with a hefty dose of added appley awesomeness. There is a soft bourbony undercurrent, but there's certainly not enough to make it terribly boozy by any stretch - it's possible I would have missed it if I knew not to try and find it. Sandy said she didn't really taste any, but then again, she's pretty much never had bourbon. There is a little added acidity to it, which looking over the ingredients, could be the somewhat curious inclusion of both apple cider vinegar and pineapple juice. Regardless, the emphasis should be on sweet and apple more than bourbon or smoky if doing it straight up.

Just wish we gave ourselves the chance to really try it out with some good pork. Not like the sauce didn't make our grilled chicken and fries taste fairly delish, but after first taste, my immediate thought was ribs followed quickly by pulled pork. I then wondered about the best way to try to incorporate it with some bacon. But alas. We also enjoyed it in place of ketchup in some homemade meatloaf (although Sandy's mom hated it, probably because it had actual flavor), and with some meatballs as well. Cooking with it certainly mellowed out the sweetness a touch while bringing other flavors to the surface.

No real complaints - it's a worthy pickup, for sure. Not the best out there, but pretty decent, so here's to hoping it'll stick around for a while.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Apple Bourbon BBQ Sauce: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Rustic Apple Tarte

Rus·tic

/ˈrəstik/
adjective

1. 1.

   of or relating to the countryside; rural.
2. 2.

   constructed or made in a plain and simple fashion, in particular.
3. 
   

I'd say both definitions of "rustic" apply pretty well to this apple tarte. Sonia and I, now residing in rural South Jersey, have never lived anywhere more rustic in our lives. And as chance should have it, we got a free slice of homemade apple pie from a local roadside produce stand just the day before we heated up our Trader Joe's Rustic Apple Tarte. The farmers' apple pie was scrumptious. Absolutely amazing. 

Sonia and I both agreed it was possibly the best apple pie we had ever had. Granted, nether Sonia nor I grew up in homes with mothers or grandmothers cranking out fresh-baked apple pies at all...like, ever. Sadly, McDonald's apple pies in the little green cardboard boxes were about the best we had ever had as kids. But we were in absolute agreement that this roadside stand had just set the bar for near-perfect country-style apple pie. 

But the very next day, TJ's gave our local farm market a run for its money. We could get into the semantics of how tartes (or tarts) are very different from pies, but if we're honest with ourselves, we'll all agree that their similarities outweigh their differences. They're basically the same animal as far as I can tell—at least when comparing this tarte with this most recent sample of apple pie.

Trader Joe's offering would never have stood out in our minds had it not looked, felt, and tasted homemade. But it did. Straight out of the oven, the smell was heavenly. I was shocked how soft everything was when I cut that first slice. The crust was buttery and flavorful, and there was just the perfect amount of it. It was perfection in and of itself, and yet it took nothing away from the apples. There were tons of apple slices and slivers throughout the pie. In my mind, they were definitely the main attraction. They still had enough crispness to feel like apples, but they were supple and sweet enough to feel like a delicious baked dessert. The syrup was very sweet, and if anything, was the weakest part of the pastry. It was just a tad too sugary, even for me. And I feel like had it been just a mite bit less overpowering that it could have let the natural apple flavors through even more. But to complain about it would be unfair, since it is dessert after all, and is meant to be quite sweet.

The most pleasant surprise—and in many ways the most "TJ's-esque" thing—about this tarte was the layer of candied almond slivers on the top of the confection. At first, I thought it was granola of some kind, but upon closer inspection, they proved to be little pieces of almond. They added a welcomed crunch to the texture and...well, a nuttiness to the flavor. Also the use of "Northern Spy" apples prompted a Google search for the origin of the name. It conjured up images of Civil War treachery in my mind, perhaps the 1860's version of TURN. But, alas, I found nothing so dramatic—just that they're native to New York state and frequently used in making pies.

The only other complaint we might make about this product is that there's a significant amount of saturated fat and calories...if we wanted to be picky. But, as mentioned before, it is a dessert after all, and both Sonia and I will tell you that it's worth a few extra minutes at the gym. It's another item you might bring to your family's Thanksgiving Day dessert spread in lieu of something made by hand, and it might just make you the hero of Turkey Day. It's absolutely delectable. Four and a half stars from me. Perfect five from Sonia.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa

Hrmmm. Just reading the front label of the brand-spankin' new Trader Joe's Harvest Salsa. Pumpkins. Apples. Butternut Squash. In a "salsa." Riiiight.

Sandy, an excellent photographer who doubles as a savvy shopper, snapped this up just this morning on her weekly TJ's run. I had heard NOTHING about this salsa until she sent me the picture at work of the jar front with our new little copyright in the corner. Nice pic, babe! But all I could see was the jar front, and since I hadn't seen any buzz or any news about it anywhere, here's the word that came to mind: Baby food.

Apples and squash are pretty traditional Gerbery glop, after all. Sure, it might be a little fancier - look, it's an "autumnal mélange" after all - but that's more or less what I expected. More savory, no spicy, kinda meh. Doesn't help that I'm not a huge pumpkin guy anyways. I think before twisting the lid off for the maiden tasting voyage I cracked some some joke about it was going to smell like a vaguely Mexican Yankee Candle.

Yet once again...I was wrong.

Don't let it fool you: Even though pumpkin is the primary ingredient, this is a salsa, first and foremost. Look at the rest of the ingredients: Tomatoes. Tomatillos. Jalapeños. Peppers. With the exception of the lime, I could probably grow everything in my back garden...but I'd never think of mashing them all up together into some Frankensalsa.

In a way, the salsa base is a lot like other Trader Joe's salsa - Cowboy Caviar (minus beans and corn) comes to mind, for instance. It's got that same chunky-spicy-sweet tilt to it - a good enough kick, but not enough to easily offend most palates. For this harvest blend, I'd say that the pumpkin and butternut squash add more body and girth than flavor. To my taste, they do add an earthy dimension, but it seems somewhat offset by a little bit of the spiciness being muted. As for the apples - they add a little crispy sweet angle, though it doesn't stand out. I can't quite figure out what type of apple it is, but it's definitely a tamer variety. There's a little touch of honey to amp up the sugar a little bit more, but in all, it's a very smooth, even flavor.

Honestly, both Sandy and I are pretty impressed by this stuff, and how well it incorporated so many different elements. I originally had planned on taking only a few small bites on tortilla chips as an after-main-course tidbit at dinner, which within a couple minutes turned into one of those "We need to put this away now" type moments we are too prone to. It's not enough to have me divorce my still-favorite salsa, and I'm not sold on how well it'd go over at breakfast on some eggs, but for almost anything else you'd put salsa on, go for it. Sandy mentioned a couple times she thinks it'd pair especially well with some grilled chicken, which I'd second. For a little seasonal variety, this is better than what we had bargained for, and well worth the $2.99 price tag.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fig Bites

I like to think I'm pretty good at guessing what's inside packages and wrapped gifts. Sort an annoying habit for all of those around me, I know, but I've just always been that way. There's a whole routine - a little shake, a couple taps or a knock (depending on size), another few wiggles. Usually I'm pretty close - the only significant, way-off guess I can recall is when I thought I was going to get a bike as my big Christmas present one year, but I'll chalk that more up to my then-five year old mind not being able to comprehend the magnitude of awesomeness that a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier is.

This is mentioned in relation to Trader Joe's Fig Bites because on our latest podcast, Sonia mentioned seeing them in store and not knowing what they could be. Sure enough, when I found them a few days later, there's the opaque packaging, with very few (if any) clues on the write up on them. But I can feel a plastic tray....with rows?...yeah, there's rows...with little squares inside of them that most be the aforementioned Fig Bites....

"They're just Fig Newtons," Sandy blurted out. "Stop making a spectacle."

Sigh. Was just about there, but you beat me to it, wifey. Thanks. And I wasn't making that much of a spectacle, either.

Anyways, yes, take a look at the product shot on the left. "Just Fig Newtons" is about the most accurate description possible for them. Now, it's been a long time (years?) since I've had an actual authentic Fig Newton Fig Newton, so I may be a little off base, but there's not too much distinction I can draw between the two. The cookie casing might be a little cakier and not quite as chewy, with the fig portion a slight bit different too...but really, they're just about the same. Nutritionally, they're about the same, as well, but with the Trader Joe's advantage of no high fructose corn syrup. If there's any built-in advantage to a Turkish fig, well, someone will have to fill me in here, I'm ignorant. Really, if someone made me do a side-by-side comparison, I'm thinking I'd be hard pressed to tell them apart.

All of this makes for a kind of "meh" experience for me. I have nothing really against them....but there's nothing for me to loove here either. The best enjoyment I got from these cookies was my eight month old baby girl smacking her lips while she watched me eat them, as if to say "Daddy, pleasepleaseplease, can I have a bite?" I'd be inclined but we're trying to save the sweets 'til her first birthday. Our toddler seemed to like them, enough to ask for seconds (and maybe thirds), while Sandy kinda joined me in the meh-ish middle. For the couple bucks pick up, we'll probably get them again, but we won't go out of our ways, either.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fig Bites: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bars

Here's a question I found myself pondering the other night while chomping through a Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bar: What, exactly, is the divining criteria used to determine whether or not a frozen summer treat will be served on a stick? Is it potential mess factor? Structural integrity? Ease and comfort? I'm not really sure. I get why ice cream sandwiches (whether cookie or wafer ones) are stickless - there's a built-in easy way to hold them that unless you're a toddler (or me) it won't create a mess. Also, Klondike bars with no wooden pole make sense - although the potential mess is through the roof, I think a stick would only exacerbate since it's a big ol' quickly melting rhombus. But, other than that, and excluding ice cream cones (duh) and the cheapie colored sugar water freezy pops, pretty much any ice cream bar or popsicle or anything is a perfect candidate to be plunked on a stick, right?

Except....these TJ mango cream bars don't have a stick. They're prop-less and pole-less. Instead, it's just the bar itself, lonely, in a little wrapper just waiting to get all sticky and melty in your little grubs, unless you actually take the care to try to eat it from the wrapper, which seems silly to me. Really, these should be plopped on a little post.

Thankfully, though, I won't let that skewer my perception too much. In all, these do make a tidy little treat. Each bar is about 75-80% typical frozen mango-esque popsicle, with the a little side section of smooth chilly cream that complements the rest of the bar pretty well. I'd personally like if the cream and fruit part were a little more intermingled so each could be present in each bite. Regardless, the mango tastes all summer-y and sugary and all that enough by itself to work, but the cream really adds a nice touch to tie it all together.

A small side note: Not liking the ingredient list, which I neglected to doublecheck before purchase, mostly because so many TJ's products don't have it that I take it for granted: glucose syrup, with corn in the parentheses. There's a lot of noise online clamoring about glucose vs high fructose corn syrup (here's one link I found - can't vouch for its truthiness) but...I don't know. It sounds too much the same to me, in that tt's added sugar, and in some sort of form that's different from the sugar already mentioned in the list. Seems like a lot of extra sugar, when I think God made mangoes taste the best, personally - nothing extra needed.

Anyways, both Sandy and I, and our almost three year old (time flies!) enjoy them enough as is. They're smallish enough to perfectly sized for the kiddo and to not feel like too guilty an indulgence for us big kids. There are other varieties of these bars out there, like raspberry or coffee ones, that I'm sure we'll try before the summer's up. The box of six desserts cost no more than a couple bucks, making it a relatively painless pick up. It'd just be nice if there were a little something that made them a little more special or unique, but alas, these bars are a pretty solid choice as is. Not bad at all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bars: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Sour Gummies T's & J's

Ah, Sour Patch Kids. The American standard for tooth-rotting, roof-of-mouth-irritating, zero nutritional value, sugary, soury sweetness—an institution nearly as deeply-rooted in our junk food culture as Coke or McDonald's. As a boy, I'd go through a box of them during the course of a two hour movie at the theater. (Needless to say the local dentist made a fortune off of me). I remember my mouth watering as I'd tear open the packaging. Sour Patch Kids—the paradigm of sour gummy candy on Earth. Until now.

Sweetened with cane sugar and natural fruit flavors, Trader Joe's has offered us these "T's" and "J's" as their answer to the classic sour gummy candy. And it's a stellar effort, in my humble opinion. TJ's has done gummy candy before, and we've reviewed it here at least twice. But this product is truly my favorite. I don't just mean from TJ's...and I don't just mean sour gummy candy. I think this is the best gummy candy I've ever had. Strong words, indeed.

Let's start with the texture. The candy is nice and soft. If anything, I'd say it's just a hint softer and more pliable than your traditional Sour Patch Kid or sour gummy worm. Each piece is coated in the familiar "sour sugar" that graces the exterior of most classic sour gummies. It falls off just as easily—and it still irritates the roof of my mouth, although maybe not quite as much as other sour gummies...? That might just be because I didn't eat the whole bag in one sitting as I did in years past. The letters are nice and flexible, long and thin. If you're so inclined to suck on the candy and get that super tart start and then a sweet finish, I swear that since there's a bit of increased surface area on each gummy, that they dissolve faster and deliver more taste than your traditional Sour Patch Kids, which are basically just oblong slabs vaguely molded to resemble weird little zombie children. All that to say that I think these candies are optimized for maximum flavor-delivery from a geometry standpoint...amiright? Russ isn't convinced.

Flavor-wise, they taste more natural than most sour gummies. That might not be saying much, but there was always a weird glaze and aftertaste that would hang around in my mouth long after the box of Sour Patch was gone.  Also, TJ's choice of flavors is a bit more refined than your average pack of sour gummies: tangerine, grapefruit, lemon, and lime. It took me a while to figure out which flavor matched with which color. I figured out that the deep reddish color must be grapefruit. I think they were going for a ruby red vibe. The orange-ish color is tangerine. The colors of the lemon and lime flavors are nearly indistinguishable from one another, but I think one has a delicate green hue you can detect in certain light.

I really have no complaints about this candy. Sonia loved them too. There's even a resealable bag to keep them fresh (which does help one avoid the temptation to consume the entire bag all at once). If I were comparing this to Cookie Butter Ice Cream or Chicken Tikka Masala, I might not hold them in such high esteem. But I'm comparing them to every other gummy candy I've ever had, so I can't deny them a near-perfect score. Sonia agrees. 4.5 stars from each of us.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.