Trader Joe's Strawberry Raspberry Oatmeal

It's another riveting Friday here at WG@TJ's, as we bring you a spine-tingling review of everybody's favorite breakfast item: OATMEAL!

It's a breakfast that doesn't even possess the flair of an Egg McMuffin, or...I was going to say one of "Uncle Herschel's Favorites" from Cracker Barrel, but I was stopped in my tracks when my Google search yielded the Urban Dictionary definition of that phrase. I'm not even going to link to it here...because it's filthy. But if you're so inclined, I mean, I did promise you something "spine-tingling" today...although it might be more along the lines of "boorishly lewd" to many of you...I know it was for me. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Ahem. Back to the oatmeal.

This selection is different from a lot of other pre-packaged oatmeal, in that it's not quite as sweet. There's a moderate amount of brown sugar, but the natural flavor of oats is definitely the dominant taste. Certain bites contain enough freeze dried strawberries and raspberries to taste tart and fruitastic, but by and large the flavor of this oatmeal is quite subtle. Perhaps a bit too subtle. Some people might use the word "bland."

That was Sonia's take, too. She rarely adds sweeteners to products other than black coffee, but confessed this might be one of those products that needs a little bit of agave or stevia or honey or simple syrup or whatever healthy sugar is in right now.

We made the oatmeal with a mixture of about 2 parts water, 1 part half and half. I usually prefer just plain old milk, but we didn't have any on hand, and this mixture of water plus half and half is what Sonia usually uses for oatmeal. We ALWAYS have half and half on hand because Sonia uses it with her morning java. And it works. The oatmeal usually has a fair amount of creaminess, and it adds a touch more flavor and substance than just water.

For $1.29 per cup, there are quite a few other oatmeals at TJ's that might be a better value. Here are the "Search This Blog" results for "oatmeal." I couldn't tell you which of those products are currently available, but there are definitely a handful of offerings on that list that scored better with our team. This one gets three stars a piece from Sonia and I.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pear & Persimmon Tarte

My father is getting married today. Never thought I'd live to see the day. He clearly doesn't share my disdain for Valentine's Day, but even I must admit that V.D. is just as good a time as any to tie the knot. 

I just hope the happy couple's commitment to one another transcends the triviality of this silly holiday. Sonia and I don't know his new bride particularly well, but we trust the old man knows what he's doing.

It's kind of like pears and persimmons. We both know pears like the back of our hands, but persimmons are a bit more of a mystery to us. Can the couple work together? 

In this case, yes they can. Sonia and I shared this tarte as a romantic non-Valentine's treat. We both enjoyed it. We tasted the sweetness of the pears in the filling, but we had a hard time picking out the taste and texture of the persimmons. 

I tried to pull my old Wikipedia trick where I read a paragraph or two and try to sound like an expert when I regurgitate the knowledge in my own words on this blog. Either my brain isn't functioning at full capacity today or this particular Wikipedia contributor just went above and beyond what the average layman wants to know about persimmons, but there was just too much talk of tannins, astringency, and bletting to wrap my brain around at this juncture. But if you want to give it a shot, be my guest: Persimmon - Wikipedia.

What I can tell you is that this tarte is tasty. The crust is buttery and soft, and the filling is sweet and fruity. There are chunks of pears and, we assume, persimmons as well. There was even "spiced frangipane" almond paste in the breading. It was most noticeable in the outer sections where the fruit filling was more sparse. Nutty, sweet, and delicious.

It's a very high quality tarte at a very reasonable price ($1.99). An hour to thaw and 10 minutes in the oven? Even I can do that...and I did. In fact, that's my hand in that oven mitt. Sonia's proven her worth in the kitchen many, many times over, but I'm still a little challenged in the field of "domestic sciences."

I guess the takeaway here is that unexpected couplings can work. Pears and persimmons are just like rama lamma lamma ka dinga da dinga dong. 

Plus, Happy Valentine's if you're into that whole thing. And congrats to Dad and Patty.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Apple Raspberry and Apple Apricot Dried Fruit Bars

Just in case Trader Joe is neglecting to push his latest offerings on me in the checkout area like Heisenberg peddling a fresh batch of Blue Ice, every once in a while, I like to glance at that little out-of-the-way section where most Trader Joe's stores like to stash their inexpensive fruit bars, fruit leather, and fruit snacky type things, often in a rustic wooden rack or small woven baskets. That's where I discovered these Apple Raspberry and Apple Apricot Dried Fruit Bars.

We've seen quite a few incarnations of these fruit strips throughout the years, including: Fiberful Handmade Dried Fruit Bars, Organic 100% Natural Fruit Wraps, and several different Apple + Fruit bars. Here's our take on this newest gluten-free, kosher version, straight outta New Zealand (you'd think they'd offer Apple Kiwi flavor, no?)

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Nutty Seedy Fruity Bars

Quite a while back, we made a big joke about there being a product called Trader Joe's Dog Food...For People. It's one of our finer works. Please, if you need a good laugh, take a peek, we'll be back.

I bring this up because there's now apparently a TJ's bird food...for people.

Yes, yes, I know, it's actually called Trader Joe's Nutty Seedy Fruity Bar, in yet another attempt on a grab 'n go snack/energy bar. It's not a bad concept, but the endless variations out there...and to my knowledge, none of them have tried to emulate bird suet anywhere as close to this one.

Yes, suet, like that stuff you put aside in the winter for the birds, only for it to be snatched up by some darn squirrels. Happens all the time.

At least "Nutty Seedy Fruity Bar" is an honest name. Let's see:

Nuts: Almonds, walnuts, brazil nuts
Seeds: Sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, chia seeds
Fruit: Date paste
All of the above: Coconuts, present in dried, oil and nectar form

Now, I've named each and every ingredient..but there's apparently 12% missing here. It says it's 88% nuts, seeds and fruit on the front. What's the rest? Tj's love and magic? Maybe.

Anyways, all these ingredients come to together to a dense, chewy, crispy bar. This thing got some girth to it. It's very dry yet oily at the same time - some hydration will probably be handy to have on hand. It's not something to be gnawed right down. Each respective ingredient is present, with the dates and coconut really holding it all together. The nuts are pleasantly earthy and roasty, as are the seeds, with the right amount of proper crunch and crisp for each. It's a nifty little feat.

But...I wish it played up the fruity element just a tad bit more. The dates are more adhesive than flavor additive, leaving mainly the coconut. Some dried blueberries would have a subtle little touch here, which would have also lightened it up a bit. There's a little too much earthiness, so as in life,  a little sweetness would go along a way.

Oh, if you haven't figured it out by now: There's nuts. And coconuts. Lots of fat. Lots and lots of good ol' natural fat of the saturated, polyunsaturated and monounsaturated varieties. Make of that what you will for you. It's not a huge deterrent for me - better this than a Big Mac, IMHO.

The bars in all do make a nice little treat that packs more stomach filling power than one would think. I was quite happy for several hours after munching away on one of them at work, to the point where I almost forgot to eat lunch, which just doesn't happen for a guy like me. I like them, and for what it is, the $2.29 price tag isn't an outright awful value. I'd love that blueberry variety. Just me judging here, as unfair as that is, but Sandy didn't get to hers in time. I'll wing it a three, so double that up. Stock up for those hard winter months ahead.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Nutty Seedy Fruity Bars: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Unsweetened Organic Açaí Puree Packets

Stepping out of our comfort zones and trying new things—that's what it's all about when it comes to venturing the wilds of Trader Joe's like our team has these past six years. Not that I'm uncomfortable with acai. I've been singing its praises since before this blog began. No, I'm not uncomfortable with acai as an ingredient. But when it comes in a bag pureed all by itself and I'm the one who has to figure out what to do with it—that's a challenge for me. I mean sure, there are suggestions on the packaging and there are tons of recipes and ideas online. But up to this point, the acai in my world has always been pre-measured, pre-mixed, and pre-sweetened. And I liked it that way. 

But could I like it like this? It was worth spending $4.49 to find out.

Sonia and I have been brewing up fruit smoothies in our little generic wannabe "bullet" blender as of late, and we knew acai would be a welcome addition to our concoctions, which generally feature bananas, strawberries, yogurt, almond milk or coconut milk, and agave sweetener. It seemed like acai would probably blend pretty seamlessly with those ingredients. But knowing the berry's properties of earthiness, natural caffeine, and high levels of fiber, there would be certain potential pitfalls associated with using too much or too little in our homemade mixtures, namely: creating a beverage that might not taste great, missing a decent amount of sleep, and/or extra visits to the bathroom. But despite these inherent risks, we dove right in to acai-land and got a-mixin'.

Once thawed, the product is a fascinating purple goo. I had never tasted acai by itself before. It's far less sweet and much more earthy/nutty than I ever imagined. Those mixologists at Robek's and Jamba Juice always told me acai had a "natural chocolate-type flavor." Well, it certainly does when sweetened. But by itself, the flavor might be likened to some unusual, berry-ified bitter cocoa bean paste. If anything, our smoothies needed more sweetener than usual once we added the acai, in order to cancel out its natural bitterness.

Once sweetened, however, it added a very welcome complexity to our beverages that one simply cannot achieve using more traditional fruits and berries. It wasn't quite like those store-bought mixtures or a "professionally-blended" smoothie, but it certainly wasn't bad. We never did quite achieve that chocolatey taste we've had before, but we created an interesting fruit-based beverage with a velvety texture and an inviting richness seldom attained outside an actual smoothie joint—where you'd pay upwards of $5 for a single acai drink. 

Both Sonia and I are finding this one a bit hard to score, since it's just a single ingredient that begs to be used with many other ingredients. But for what it is: a convenient, relatively-reasonably priced (acai ain't cheap) exotic berry puree that can enhance your homemade smoothies and shakes, we think it deserves to be rated "really darn good."

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa

Ya know, in retrospect, it was probably unfair of me to say I was done with any Trader Joe's new fangled mango products. Truth was, as probably all of the rest of you, I was just sick of them, and poor Nathan had to pick up the blog slack, which in true Rodgers fashion, was done admirably.

But now, it's *sigh* pumpkin spice season. Unless there's some flashy irresistible bang-up product that I just can't resist (unlikely, but possible), I'm probably leaving all that alone, so if there's a new mango product I could possibly be interested in, I think I oughtta pick it up.

Actually, I have no idea if Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa is new or not. October doesn't exactly scream "Fruit Salsa Appreciation Month," so it seems weird to think it's new...but then again, I hadn't seen it. Maybe I just had my anti-mango horse blinders on. You tell me.

Would've been a shame to miss out on it. This salsa is mighty fine. There's a lot of sweetness, seemingly more from roasted tomatillo than anything else. And heat. lots of heat. Look at the ingredients - there' ghost pepper in here, which gives off a lot of spice, more than otherwise anticipated from appearances.

In what seems to be a strange step of salsa science, there's also corn and black beans tossed in the mix. I'm not really sure why that is...they're not exactly unwelcome, but it's not like any flavor gets added by them.

Maybe it's just to hide the mangoes.

I mean, there are mangoes in here...some decent sized pieces...but unless you happen to bite square into one, and pay some attention to it, it's easy to miss. With all of those aforementioned factors - roasty tomatillo sweetness, spicy heat, added texture of beans and corn - it's kinda easy to skip over the fact that there's mangoes involved. Even after repeated tastings, I'm not sure if I want to say that they're approaching indetectability or if they inconspicuously tie it all together.

Regardless of whichever answer, I'll come back for more and more. It's pretty fantastic salsa, which i found paired exceptionally well with some multigrain tortilla chips. Sandy's a huge fan because of the heat and absence of tomatoes, and as for me, I like the experimental feel to it - it's an odd hodge-podge that in the end works rather well. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs

There's really not a whole lot to Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs. Nothing added or subtracted, but simply a fig, partially dried, and frozen. That's it. That could be the end of the review pretty much right there. But that's not how we roll...because while they do "taste...similar to fresh fruit" they do feel a little different. Had to leave out the "amazingly" because that's a bit too strong of a statement.

Anyways, if you're already familiar with their tried and true semi-dried formula first tested out on apricots, you can expect something similar here.  Those particular fruity tidbits have become a family snacktime favorite around here for 75% of our clan - I don't care about them one way or another, but Sandy, and particularly the kids, can polish off a bag for lunch. In fact, it was those apricots we were looking for when we found the figs and figured to assess them instead.

For taste...yes,  a fig. What we you expecting, a rutabaga? Tastes like a fig. The feel, though? I'm a dried fig aficianado - everytime we go to Costco I need to get me a bag, it lasts me maybe 10 days. I'd say these are much more similar to fresh figs, except I had those recently...too soft, too fleshy, too wiggly, too...I don't even know the word. That was another Costco purchase, and we made our way through the Montana-sized package, but with much less gusto. So I guess these fall fairly squarely in the middle. There's not the tough, chewy, fibrous bite of dried, but not the super soft mouthfeel of fresh. The seeds maintain their crispy qualities as well for a nice textural variant.

Sandy prefers these semi-dried guys straight from the freezer, because she's a little odd, but even when thawed a bit they retain a lot of their middlin' qualities. The kids seem to like them to, maybe not as much as the apricots, but their little chompers have less work to do than with dried, and I couldn't get them (or Sandy) to eat their fair share of fresh. Not a bad purchase for $2.99, we bought two bags and will happily finish them and likely go back for more.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Semi Dried Green Figs: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit

As will be discussed in an upcoming podcast, there's something so great about snacks in plastic tubs. I love the act of opening them - especially removing that shrinkwrapped plastic ring that holds the lid on. I have no idea why that is, but in some ways, I guess it feels like opening a present, except since it's a clear plastic tub, you already know it's going to be good (or so you hope). I like the little plasticky sounds and all. Okay, I'm weird.

Also speaking of podcasts and having no idea...my laptop sat around untouched all day long. Why it decided to automatically and without warning launch into some hours-long Windows 10-related update literally 30 seconds before Nathan, Sonia, Grand Master Marvo, and I were going to record last night is beyond me. I mean, it was doing nothing all day - why then? Sorry about that, we should have our next episode of Let's Talk TJ's later on next week now because of those shenanigans.

But back to the matter at hand - this time around, Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit. C'mon, this looks like fun - there's the different sized food marbles, in different colors, with different fruits. Opening up the package not only had all the usual tub-popping satisfaction, but also made a huge waft of chocolate came up and smack me in the nostrils. This was going to be fun.

In case you're like me and want to know which colors are which right away, the pinkish ones are the cherries, whitish are strawberries, grayish/purplish are blueberries, and the orangish/tannish are the apricots. There's an -ish for each color, because much to TJ's props, these candies are naturally colored with things like beet juice. Much better than artificial colors, if you ask me, even if the tradeoff is less vibrant coloration. It's not like they affect the flavor anyways.

What does alter the flavor, though, is the composition of those coatings. I expected the usual M&M-y candy shellac, straight into chocolate with a fruit coat. That's not quite right. Instead there's about a few hairs-thick coat of softer white chocolate, before hitting into the dark chocolate. It's kinda offputting. At first I thought maybe it was one of those yogurt-kinda layers, because as compared to the dark chocolate, that's almost what it tastes like - kinda two ends of the spectrum being put right together.

Other than that, the experience is what's to be expected. the cherries and strawberries pop out more in their respective flavors, the blueberries are representative enough, but the apricots? Good idea, I like the theory, but I wouldn't have guessed apricot if I weren't told that's what in there. Instead, it just feels like a dried, chewy, semi-chalky center that gets overpowered by the chocolate. All the other fruits taste they way they ought, with that similar kinda feel.

Anyways, I will say these choco-fruity tidbits definitely hit more of a chocolate spot than a fruit one if you're looking for that brand of sweetness. There's nothing terribly wondrous about them, nothing overly bad either - just curious with that white chocolate layer if you ask me. I snuck 'em into work without Sandy having a chance to try them, so I shared them with a co-worker or two, and got a mostly satisfied "meh" in return. They're deserving of slightly better and to me rank as a fairly solid "not bad."

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies

Ever have something that's good in it's own right ruin something else that's perfectly good?

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a great example of this. Must be my lack of imagination, or the heat getting to my brain - I mean, dangit, it's hot. But this has to be a thing...right? Maybe this is somewhat vaguely related to my chocolate gum/Bowie-Jagger theory that two things that are good separately aren't good when put together.

If you can think of any great examples, please, by all means, fire away.

For some fairly weak evidence, I'll put out there Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies.

Blueberries, even dried ones = yum. Cookies - obviously great. Even better when they're soft, crumbly, buttery, melt in your mouth shortbread ones, perfect for pairing with any variety of beverages. I love shortbread cookies. This can't fail...

It doesn't. But these cookies don't entirely succeed either. The taste is right. That aforementioned buttery shortbread is spot on, and the poppy seeds don't seem to add much one way or another (unlike those blueberry digestive biscuits a little while back). The blueberries seem right too, and while certainly sweet with enough added sugar in all sorts of various forms, the cookies seem to be right in line flavor wise.

Really, it's the texture. It's so disappointing when the chompers actually hit a blueberry, because it gums up an otherwise perfectly crumbly bite. It's a chewy interruption. Perhaps some other form of blueberry would be more ideal, or heck, even some blueberry extract...but as is? Not a huge fan. Oh well.

Otherwise these bite-sized berry buggers are pretty tasty - we'll happily eat them up, and could be persuaded to buy again for the few bucks they set us back. Purely on taste, they're nearly perfect - but again, so disappointing when striking that berry. Probably more than it should be since the cookies are so good otherwise. Life is hard, I guess.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sweetened Dried Orange Slices

We've seen plenty of zombified fruits from Trader Joe's before: apples, bananas, baby bananas, and even other oranges. For the most part, I think those dried fruit snacks have been successful. They're sweet enough to be desserty, but natural enough not to wreck most diets. In all those previous cases, they seemed to capture the innate essence of the fruit and candy-ify it—in some cases without even adding any sugar.

Not only is there plenty of sugar here, but these don't really taste like oranges. I mean, I know they're made of orange slices. And they're definitely citrusy. But I think what throws me off is that they left the rind on. And I've mentioned before that I'm not huge into eating orange peels. I don't know many people who are. 

Perhaps there's a reason why Trader Joe's suggests you do things with this product other than eat it. The back of the packaging recommends using them as garnish on cocktails or as decorations for cakes and cookie platters. On that front, I can't really argue with them. Orange is my favorite color, and I've never minded splashes of it here and there. The write-up on the wrapper also insists that you can consume the attractive little slices, but it does so quite unconvincingly. "This stuff's non-toxic, we promise!"*

Once opened, the package gives off a bizarre fermented fragrance—not unlike what I'd imagine marmalade left in the sun might smell like after a day or so. The taste is a little more pleasant than the aroma in my opinion, but again, the bitterness of the rind spoils a good bit of the sweet flavor of the fruit itself. The slices are sticky with sugar, somewhat difficult to chew, and bits of the candied fruit cling tenaciously to your teeth once you've begun masticating.

Orange is the new blecch!

Sonia was even more repulsed than I was. She literally exclaimed, "Oh God! That's awful!" upon first bite. I think this is her first time giving ZERO stars to a product. I'll give them a generous one and a half, mostly for their decorative value. This might be a return here. Or we might throw a cocktail party and put them to use as garnish, as mentioned above. If the drinks are strong enough, some of our guests might even get crazy enough to eat them.

Bottom line: 1.5 out of 10.

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*That's not actually written on the packaging.

Trader Joe's Organic 100% Melon Juice

Wait...what?

There's such a thing as orange honeydew? I've only ever seen green ones...the only orange melon I can think of are cantaloupes...but an orange honeydew? Dang.

Shows what a sheltered life I've lived for close to 34 years. File this away under "something new every day." And I now feel as knowledgable about fruit as my 20 month old daughter who calls every fruit an "apple." Gets me every time.

Anyways, there is a TJ's variant of a cold-pressed cantaloupe juice floating around, which I knew this wasn't, but when seeing the label and shade of Trader Joe's Organic 100% Melon Juice, I presumed it was cantaloupe.

Which made my first sip very interesting...because, naturally, it tasted pretty much just like honeydew. Perhaps the orange variety are a a slight touch sweeter, because there seemed to be a little extra natural sugar at play here. Also, I'm perfectly comfortable with being further labelled as a fool for saying so, but I also tasted a small amount of subtle astringency here. Maybe that's stemming from the optical illusion that this murky orangey semi-greenish water could kinda kinda look like some type of citrus green tea variant.

Eh, whatever. It works. It's a clean, simple healthy juice that tastes like it's straight from the Sledge-O-Matic and refreshes nicely on a hot summer day. I'd still prefer to reach for some tasty lemonade after mowing the lawn, but if this was all we had, there'd be no disappointment. Winner in the wife and kids' eyes too, so not bad at all for just three bucks.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic 100% Melon Juice: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mango & Strawberry Flatbread

Well since Mr. Shelly is retiring from the wonderful world of mango product reviews, I guess it's up to me to keep the mango insanity astir on this blog. And even under threat of home invasion and sedation, that mango cookie butter is MINE! You'll never get within a hundred feet of our house without our Alfred and Sadie-driven home security system barking us awake, Russ. NEVER!

Be that as it may, I'm sure that yet another mango review is not only encouraging Big Joe to make more of these mango products, but it's also annoying the heck out of half of our readers. (Please see survey at the bottom of this review.) But honestly, I think this product is worth a looksee. It's a complicated product, far more sophisticated than most of the mango offerings we've seen this past month or so.

First of all, we have to be familiar with the Law of Balsamic Reduction. It states that "any rectangular flatbread with balsamic drizzle can be reduced into exactly five smaller rectangular flatbreads with sides exactly one fifth the size of the original rectangle, but despite maintaining the same side to side ratio, all toppings, including balsamic reduction drizzle, shall be unevenly distributed across said flatbreads." In layman's terms, this means that once cut into smaller slices, some pieces of flatbread will have tons of toppings and others will have very little—specifically, the end pieces will have an unfavorable bread to topping ratio.

Never has the Law of Balsamic Reduction been more apparent than with this ambitious attempt at a gourmet appetizer. Nevertheless, the center pieces of our flatbread came out quite tasty, in my opinion, flaunting two delicious fruits, wilted arugula, and varying amounts of the aforementioned sweet balsamic reduction drizzle. Sonia thinks the mango and balsamic together resulted in a taste too intense for her tongue. She doesn't think they clashed exactly—she just thinks one or the other would have provided adequate sweetness and that both together was overkill. I'll agree that they were both quite sweet, but they were two very different kinds of sweet, if that makes sense. 

It's definitely a roller coaster ride for the taste buds, but you know, every once in a while, I really like to take my tongue on the big boy rides.

If you're open to a suave kind of sweetness, I recommend this product wholeheartedly. My biggest complaints would be that there weren't nearly enough strawberries and that the toppings were unevenly distributed. The balsamic reduction sauce did come in a separate packet that I put on myself, so I guess if that was unevenly distributed, I only have myself to blame.

I give this product four and a half stars. Sonia will only spring for three.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

survey solution

Trader Joe's Mango Brooklyn Babka

Yes, yes...I know. Another mango product review. Believe me, I'm SICK of mango stuff. It's part of the gig - Trader Joe's leads a mango onslaught, it's my job to figure out what's good and worthwhile, and what simply isn't. Way too many products have been middling at best thus far. Seems even the TJ's employees I've talked to, informally, are tired of mango everything.

Well, here's a proclamation: I (Russ), as of the completion of this review, am DONE with any mango-related review from now on until eternity. Pretty much the only exception would be IF (and it's a big part two-part IF) something truly amazeballs would debut, like, say, mango cookie butter, and I drove to South Jersey first, and chloroformed the Rodgers clan to make sure I got to it first. That's...probably not going to happen, Pennsylvania turnpike tolls being what they are.

But I'd be absolutely derelict in my duties if I didn't tell you about Trader Joe's Mango Brooklyn Babka. Hands down, it's our absolute favorite TJ mango concoction we've had yet. And this is coming from a very mango-weary man. It's been multiple-purchase worthy, which for a treat and non-staple, is very, very high praise for our establishment.

It must be said this babka is my only frame of reference for babka - I've led a sheltered life. It's a large, weighty pastry loaf which I'd liken most closely to a danish - it's chewy and layered yet kinda flaky. I guess there's a certain denseness to it, but not as much as what I've heard re: the chocolate babka ("condensed brownie" are the words I recall). No, a slice will practically fall apart along the dough spiral lines, with a sweet, sugary, but not overkill mango puree swirled in, with extra mango flavor coming from the faintly orange dough. A little light mango glaze on top adds just that little extra oomph as well.

A little look at the ingredient list offered a surprising insight that might explain this product's overall success: that "mango puree" I mentioned? It's apples, followed by apricots, and then the mango. It's odd, because it is decidedly mangotastic...maybe the apples offer a suitable base, while the apricots seamlessly boost the flavor...I don't know...but it works. No question about it.

A slice of babka with a cup of coffee makes a nice little morning treat, or skip the coffee for some dessert. I've heard there's ways to grill babka slices (which would be awesome here, I think) or get a scoop of vanilla ice cream to go alongside. Lots of good possibilities here. If even half the mango stuff out there, in its own context, tasted as good as this babka does, there's no doubt that the Summer of Mango would have been a blockbuster.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango Brooklyn Babka: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mango Chia Pudding with Cultured Coconut Cream

Let's see...be positive. Focus on the good stuff. Look on the bright side of life. There's good in almost everything with a little perspective. That's the proper way to look at life, right? Right?

So, as a proper challenge to that, may I present Trader Joe's Mango Chia Pudding with Cultured Coconut Cream?

Glass-half-full side first: The pudding sounds good. C'mon, admit it, it does. Even with some mango fatigue setting in, this kinda sticks out if you happened to glance upon it on the refrigerated shelf. Even without the lid's suggestion, as a small breakfast time treat, or a little snacky or dessert, it certainly sounds like an indulgence on the probably healthyish side. And hey, dairy-free for those who that's a concern for.

Then, there's everything else.

It's debatable between the wife and I about what's precisely wrong with the puddin'. My stance: it's the texture. It's kinda stiff and chunky and feels kinda slimy. There's some coconut strips in there that add an odd little fibrous bite that seems a little out of place. And then there's all the chia seeds...the cup's full of them. Top to bottom. That's just too many. Also, I'm not entirely sure if it would have been better if the seeds were, actually, you know, seed-like with a little crunch or something to them - because instead they just seem wet and bloated and soggy with scarecely any difference between them and the rest of the pudding.

That's what bugs me. What bothers Sandy: the taste. Admittedly, it doesn't taste like much at all. Mangos are naturally full of sugar, so it ought to taste sweet, right? You'd think...but maybe somehow the coconut dulls it all out, because there's next to nothing going on here. I mean, kinda look at it - it looks like it tastes. Gray. Lifeless. Just kinda there and not much else. Okay, there is a little something to it...but nothing all that much. I'm usually not a guy in favor of things like added sugar, but this could really use something to liven up the flavor a bit.

This kinda glop is usually right up Sandy's alley. She took two small tastes and made a huge "Bleccccch" face before handing over to me. I tried, and what promptly followed were two in-depth conversations: 1) Should we return it? We decided not to, because TJ's is 20 minutes away and not on our usual daily commute currently with M's preschool out. and 2) Is it okay to use the words "mango boogers" in my review? I mean, that's what first came to mind...I win, this is my review!

I've yet to hear anything positive about this mango pudding, so maybe, as our brightside takeaway, we can all be united on how not good it is. Sandy gave it a 0, I'm not much higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango Chia Pudding with Cultured Coconut Cream: 1 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Tropical Mango Complete Salad Kit

No spouting some good solid theology or practical wisdom gleaned from a freezer waffle today. No cow-on-highway video either. Simple, straight up review today. We can't always be that impressive.

It's tough to beat a fresh, cool, crisp salad for a good summertime dinner. And this being the Summer of All That is Mango at your local TJ's, it'd stand to reason that some sort of fruit/veggie mash-up just might be in the offering. And so it came to pass with Trader Joe's Tropical Mango Complete Salad Kit.

Like others in the bagged salad lineup, for $4.99, you get a huge bag full of the usual leafy greens  (mainly arugula, spinach and baby lettuce) with some thin straw-slips of broccoli and carrots mixed in. Some other stuff like red cabbage tossed in too. All of that is the usual TJ's salad base, and as one would expect, fresh, crisp, and provides ample body while not being too other-worldly. No complaints.

But that's not why we're here, is it? Oh no, not at all....what are the mix-ins!?!?!? And the dressing!!! That's what makes a salad fun, otherwise it's sad rabbit food. The mix-ins here include: cashew bits, toasted coconut chips, and, of course, dried mango chunks. The mango tasted of the slightly sweetened/candified lot, which added a slight air of artificiality, though not offensively. The real stand-out was the coconut (you can't label anything as "tropical" unless there's coconut involved, it's one the amendments, I think), though...for any and all of those crunchy bits, the salad rocked when there was some in  my bite, but there wasn't enough. Get to work, Big Joe.

 Oh but the dressing...I'm not a salad dressing guy, usually. But the mango tamarind on here? AMAZING. Seriously. As the name implies, it's tangy, sweet, spicy, and vibrant...just try it. It needs to be sold by the bottle, and I mean like right now. It's almost certainly the best salad dressing I've ever had, in recent memory at least, and any attempt to further describe it would be doing it a disservice.

It's a huge salad, easily enough to for a couple adults to share for dinner, especially if some grilled chicken got tossed in. I'm not sure, but maybe some sort of mild goat cheese would probably pair well with it, if only an excuse to find a good bottle of wine as well. Look at me sounding so pseudo-fancy about bagged salad. Go me! Anyways, no hiuge complaints from either Sandy or I except: more mix-ins! And more dressing!!! Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tropical Mango Complete Salad Kit: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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

This past weekend was pretty cool. We did lots of hiking, biking, and camping. It kicked off with my birthday on Friday. And I'm getting to the age where I'm supposed to hate my birthdays because they're reminders of how old I am. But I still like them because they're good excuses to eat lots of yummy foods. 

Then on Saturday, Russ took the foodie blogosphere to a whole new level with what is undoubtedly the most eloquent, inspiring review of frozen waffles in the history of mankind. It seems a shame to follow it up with this mundane look at cereal bars. But in the end, not every breakfast food review can be a transcendent, life-changing experience I suppose. 

Also, I took video of a cow on the freeway with my phone and it wound up on the evening news. Then Sunday was Father's Day and I spent it taking a walk with my dad and picnicking in a nearby park. Good times all around.

Through it all, I was snacking on these "this mango walks into a bar" bars. I like them at least as much as their predecessors. See: strawberry/blueberry (complete with terrible "walks into a bar" jokes) and pumpkin varieties.

Texture-wise, they're exactly like the other flavors. The cereal-esque coating looks and tastes exactly the same. It's moist, it's bready, and it does what it's supposed to do—holds the fruit filling right in the middle of the bar.

And as far as the fruit filling goes, I was pretty impressed. It tastes like mango, it's significantly sweet, and there's plenty of it. Sonia thinks they're "not bad" and gives them three and a half stars, adding that she quickly got bored of them after her initial pleasant reaction. I see where she's coming from, but I think they're better than "not bad" and have to throw out four stars here, as I have with all previous incarnations of "walks into a bar."

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Naturally Flavored Mango Waffles

Are we surprised by joy or by sorrow? The world in which we live wants to surprise us by sorrow. Newspapers keep telling us about traffic accidents, murders, conflicts between individuals, groups and nations, and the television fills our minds with images of hatred, violence, and destruction...But these surprises paralyze us and seduce us to an existence in which our main concern becomes survival in the midst of a sea of sorrows. By making us think about ourselves as survivors of a shipwreck, anxiously clinging to a piece of driftwood, we gradually accept the role of victims doomed by the cruel circumstances of our lives.

The great challenge of faith is to be surprised by joy.

                                                                 - Henri Nouwen, Here and Now

In case you can't tell by now...this is not going to be our typical kinda review right here.

And I know you don't need me to tell you this, nor is this what would normally be expected on an otherwise lighthearted blog, and you might have even came here for at least a momentary retreat from it all (diversion is one of our standard services)...but this past week or so has been especially punctuated by tragedy. Reading or watching the news has been akin to taking a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick right to the gut. Incredibly sad. Overwhelmingly awful. Impossible to grasp. And perhaps, most sadly, another chapter of tragedy in seemingly increasingly violent times.

It's so easy (and perhaps even, in a way, therapeutic) to point fingers and pontificate and ascribe theories and arguments in all the aftermath. Just flip on the TV or read the papers. Everyone's a pundit, every politician knows the real answer...and on and on with the news cycle, waiting for whatever is next so the past can be discarded as yesterday's headline. It's beyond tiring.

I'm not here to rehash all of that in any further detail - this is neither the space nor the forum. I really don't want to be just another voice out there getting lost in the cacophony of noise and opinion. So instead, I'm going to leave you with a plea, and to help make my point, I'm going to use Trader Joe's Naturally Flavored Mango Waffles.

Namely: Look for joy, and be willing to be surprised by it.

It's Father's Day weekend when I'm publishing this. To say I've been blessed by the gift of two loving, happy, healthy daughters is an understatement. Both M (almost 4, with the attitude of a 15 year old) and B (19 months, loves copying her big sister and making a huge mess) challenge me, provoke me, love me, and continually show me that I somehow have more patience than I thought I did while proving that I still don't have enough. Love them kiddos. Love everything about them. Particularly love having breakfast with them almost every morning before I have to scurry off to my cubicle for the day. It's my daily centering, my peace.

In turn, M and B love waffles.

Originally, I was going to try and "interview" them as "waffle experts" for this post. It was going to be soooooo cute. Problem is, B is only at the very beginning stages of mastering discernible English vocabulary and M, well...sometimes we tease her that we have to take her to the doctor to figure out what happened to all her words. If she doesn't want to talk, she won't. And she didn't want to talk waffles with Daddy. So, idea scrapped. Admittedly, I was pretty bummed.

But then...I saw their faces as they happily chomped into their mango waffles and clamored for more milk. Bright eyes. Biggest smiles. Bulging dimples. They were in the moment, and they were joyous.

I grabbed my waffle and bit into it. Typical plain freezer waffle with some slightly sweet mango pureed in. Nothing too special. But after all the recent and outside worries and inside day-to-day stress...I needed that joy. So dang it, I pretended that was the tastiest waffle I've ever had, and let out a big, goofy, happy "YUM!"

What followed: giggles, little voices letting out their own big, goofy YUMs, silly sound effects. In short, one of the happiest breakfasts a dad could ask for with his two young daughters. All three of us were in the moment, and it all seemed so...real.

One of the most glaring facts of life is, no matter how much precaution and safety we try to bubblewrap ourselves and our loved ones in, is that anything can be taken away from us at any time, without warning, and there's not a single damn thing any of us can do about it. Whether it's health or relationships or people or possession, it can all be gone so fast. It only seems unfair when it happens to us, but we all fall under this burden.

We can choose to be ignorant of this, to be paralyzed of it...or to acknowledge it, and to live the best we can with what we have. I urge the third option, and to make it easier: find joy. Even if it's in something small like a child's delighted exclamation for having mango waffles for a second morning in a row ("HOORAY FOR MANGO WAFFLES!!!"). This is the good part of life, if we're willing to be open to it, if we can allow ourselves to be surprised by joy amidst all the humming strife. That is what is real.

Please find something, anything, that makes you as joyous as these waffles made my kids and me.

Breakfast and a life lesson for $2.49. Good deal.

Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade

How confident am I in my opinion of Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade?

So confident that I am basing my review solely on the two teeny cups I had from the local shop's sample station...that's right, I didn't even buy this...because after tasting it, I had zero interest.

Normally, I like TJ's lemonades, whether mixed with iced tea or fruit-flavored. But this mango stuff? Nope. It tasted more like a mango-citrus conglomeration along the lines of some Sunny D one-off. It was so much more juice, with a thicker, pulpier feel, than what ought to be a light, cool, refreshing glass of lemonade. It neither tasted nor felt right. Nothing about it said lemonade. I'd bet it make a decent enough popsicle. But I wasn't willing to invest the $3.49 sticker price nor the freezer space to find out, because dangit, that'd be a lot of popsicles. Even the normally sugar-in-liquid-form-loving kiddos had seemed fairly unimpressed, further cementing the case to leave it on the shelf. Not gonna completely hate on it (organic is always a good thing in my book) but yeah...not so great. 

Different formulation from this Organic Mango Lemonade.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw

Ugh. Beets. All that talk from the South Jersey Rodgers Family department of the blog has got me sick. I hate beets. Just....no. Beets are one of very few things I will not place into my mouth on purpose. Some people say beets taste like dirt; I say they literally taste a lot like something that can look like dirt but is far more foul. But...beet juice? Dehydrated beet chips? No. No. Hellz no. I don't care about Nathan's ambivalence towards them - I can't imagine even being friendly with them. If I saw a beet walking down the street, I'd cross to other side. Just thinking about them makes my stomach churn...

...so maybe I need me some jicama. That's what you can use with an upset stomach, right? Not sure what jicama really is? You can read about it straight up here...

...or stop by your local TJ's for a tub of the brand new Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw. It'll set you back five bucks, which is maybe a tick high if just looking at cost of base ingredients - a couple handfuls of jicama, cabbage, mango with a smattering of cilantro - but at least it's all made and ready to go in the refrigerated section near produce.

And it's worth it, too. We somehow neglected to take a pic of it, but the 12 ounces made one very healhty bowlful size which Sandy, a friend of ours, and I were able to get several helpings out of each. The slaw is very fresh, crispy and juicy, with the shredded jicama and cabbage kinda blending somewhat together into one flavor. I'm sure if I paid a little more attention I could have picked up on it a little bit more, but regardless, the two of them serve as an excellent platform for the other flavors, notably the sweet, tropical mango and all that herby cilantro. There's a smidge too much cilantro, in my opinion, as it kinda took over some bites, but in all, this is a very fresh, simple, clean tasting summer slaw.

There's also a dressing packet included with what's called a "lime mango vinaigrette" though it's this kinda weird orangey glop. As with anytime a dressing is involved, I'll make it known I'm not a huge salad dressing guy. And it only kinda works here. I'll pin it on the vinegar here - really, between lime, mango, and some kick from crushed red peppers, a decently strong vinegar flavor is not the one I wish to taste. Seems like because of the vinegar, at times the dressing seemed a little spicier than it actually was. The dressing just interfered too much with an otherwise simple, natural flavor vibe. A squeeze or two of lime, or a sprinkle of chili powder would have been perfect (or a little of both), but altogether as it was, the dressing was just too much and we both preferred our slaw without it.

Otherwise, an absolute winner in our book. I'm feeling inspired by this slaw to try and make my own - better sharpen them kitchen knives, I guess. But for the convenience, and something a little different to go alongside (or on top of) some grilled chicken or fish, or for a little cookout side, it's not a bad deal. Sandy's main complaint is also the dressing - really, with something a little better, we could be talking pantheon here - but we're just going to have to settle for being really, really good.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade

Please pardon the huge chunk of Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade missing out of the jar in the picture over there. I was hoping that the festive orangey glow of my sub-chair rail kitchen glow that the previous house owners so nicely left for us would help disguise the fact that this wasn't a full container, but no luck.

Actually, no, I am pretty lucky. Got a wife and two kids who love every Thursday to come visit me at work for lunch. Granted, the littlest ones just might be more excited for the cookies from the work cafe, or walking thru our indoor arboretum, but I'll take it. Along with the usual lunch they'll bring him - hot cup of coffee, some veggies and fruit, and PB&J. My older one, M (not quite four years old) loves making them almost as much as she loves eating them, so it's what she does. It's what we do. Even (and perhaps especially) on weeks where we haven't had the chance to hit up TJ's, like this week...hence the partially used jar of orange marmalade.

The kids don't like the TJ's marmalade. I don't blame them - it's a surprisingly sophisticated taste. Most orange marmalades I have tried focus on the super citrusy or super sugary or the thin line between the two...not this one. It's a deeper, stronger flavor than that. And, in comparative terms, it's bitter as well - not as in actually bitter (sugar is the first ingredient, after all), but it's fairly mature and won't leave you scurrying for a toothbrush afterwards.

There's that certain marmalade texture as well - stiffer than regular jelly, more preserves like, with a fair amount of orange peel shredded up and stuck in there. How did that ever become a thing? It's not like grapevines get chopped up and stuck in grape jelly...well, not on piurpose, I hope, at least. Somehow thru the magic of delectable fruit, incorporating what ought to be the disposable wrapper into the actual product works fairly well for marmalade in general, and for this TJ's one in particular.

Sandy and I have been to Seville on a day trip during our Portuguese honeymoon...well, that makes us sound like fancy folk. We're not. We may have seen plenty of Seville orange trees, but never partook of their fruit, so I cannot ascertain the taste accuracy...so we'll both settle for just enjoying the marmalade. Tasty on toast, scrumptious on scones, perfect for PB&Js - worth the pick up for sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons