Trader Joe's Cocoa Crunch Cereal

I must admit, I'm not much of a cereal guy anymore. Those Saturday mornings I spent straddling the piano bench in my parents' living room, bowl after bowl of milk and sugary grains sitting in front of me, watching everything from Smurfs to Saved by the Bell well into the afternoon, are nothing but distant memories. 

But every once in a while, I'll have a bowl of delicious cereal that's so good, so tasty, that it'll take me back to those days when I only took pause from shoveling a series of spoonfuls into my face to sing along to the Muppet Babies theme song...

This is not one of those cereals.

This is like a cereal from a sad parallel reality where bowls of spherical chocolate aren't sweet treats, but are, rather, disciplinary tools employed by overzealous parents. "That's it young man, it's a bowl of Trader Joe's Cocoa Crunch for you, and then a time-out in your room to think about what you've done!" 

It's potentially a version of Cocoa Puffs for the gluten-free, wheat-free crowd, I suppose. But even gluten status aside, there are quite a few key differences between this offering and classic Cocoa Puffs. The pieces here are slightly smaller, not quite as rigid, and in my opinion, not nearly as chocolatey. 

Personally, I'll take Cocoa Pebbles over Cocoa Puffs any day of the week. I just like the texture better, and I feel like they yield a nicer flavor of milk at the end of the bowl. Also, Cocoa Pebbles are completely gluten free and always have been. I know you Cocoa Puffs fans—my wife included, cuckoos that you are, will fight me tooth and nail on that assertion, but I think, for once, we can set our differences aside and agree on one thing: this Trader Joe's cocoa cereal is vastly inferior to either Post's or General Mills' classic offerings.

The taste of rice, sorghum, and corn all challenge the slight cocoa flavor for dominance. It's barely sweet. It would have been better to simply avoid cocoa or chocolate taste altogether and market this product as a healthy, multigrain cereal. It might not have been any more exciting, but at least it wouldn't have been so disappointing.

Both Sonia and I are leaning toward returning this one and taking TJ's up on their no-questions-asked refund policy once again. We don't do it often, but if a product just doesn't work for us, we won't force ourselves to eat it...and we certainly won't just throw it out. 

I can imagine somebody out there likes it—somebody who wants a grainy cereal with a very subtle chocolate taste, but two and a half stars a piece is as generous as Sonia and I will be on this one.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cinnamon Croissant Loaf

If you love loaves of cinnamon bread and you have an affinity for soft, fresh croissants...

then reach for a piece of Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky!

LOL! That wouldn't make any sense, now would it? Besides, watermelon jerky isn't real...

What I meant to say is: "then reach for Trader Joe's Cinnamon Croissant Loaf!" 

It's apparently the illegitimate lovechild of one stupid, steamy night between a loaf of frisky cinnamon bread and a sultry croissant. I don't want to get into the logistics of that whole thing, nor do I want to be too judgy...but just suffice it to say that it's a beautiful mistake—a happy accident, if you will.

On its own, the bread is nothing to write home about. It's croissant-ish, but wants to be warmed up even more than a traditional croissant. There's some cinnamon flavor, but it's not overbearing, and it's not really sweet, either. Also, it's just not quite flaky enough straight out of the bag. 

Toasted with butter, on the other hand, this product is simply scrumptious. It's all the deliciousness of a croissant with all the convenience of sliced bread. The melt-in-your-mouth factor increases exponentially when toasted or warmed, as well. It's still not really sweet on its own, so just sprinkle a little extra sugar on top for killer cinnamon toast.

We read online that people were making French toast from this stuff. I twisted Sonia's arm into making some for me since French toast is above my pay-grade as far as culinary endeavors are concerned. It was worth every ounce of effort Sonia put into it. Simply delish with some nice sweet syrup. Hey, I did my part, too. I made sure the dogs didn't eat any when the wifey put the finished product on the table. 

Let's see: they've done cinnamon croissant bread and pancake bread so far. What's next? Waffle bread? Bacon and eggs bread? Cereal bread? Those zany product developers always keep us on our toes.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Neapolitan Puffs Cereal

The word "neapolitan" means to be "of the city of Naples". Simple enough. Though to be honest, I always that it was neopolitan, not neapolitan...did this change at some point of time without any of us knowing? Is this another Berenstein/Berenstain Bears glimpse into a parallel universe? I'm pretty sure it is.

How this word also came to mean "chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream altogether" is, of course, purely American. Three flavored desserts like spumoni became popular in the good ol' U S of A back in the 1800's, and since those three flavors just so happened to be also the 'merican tastes of choice, well, it became nearly synonymous.

So, a little confusing, and of arguably two origins? Sounds about right for the new Trader Joe's Neapolitan Puffs Cereal. Let me explain.

First - this is supposed to be fun cereal, right? It's three flavors of puffs! Words fall short of how excited my girls were to see the box when this definitely looked like more like a treat than an actual breakfast to them, bless their hearts. And it is fun. Out of the three, only really the vanilla kinda falls flat flavorwise, which is to be expected. High quality vanilla taste isn't really expected to be conveyed well via breakfast cereal. The chocolate and strawberry, though somewhat muted, still come across pretty well in a not-too-super-sugary kinda way.

So we could identify this is as a junk or special treat cereal, maybe kinda like Cocoa Puffs or Lucky Charms.

But then - look at the ingredients! Beans and rice! No corn! No wheat! None of those regular ol' breakfast grains. Rice isn't that odd - Rice Chex and Rice Krispies, amirite? - but beans? For breakfast? Odd, weird. It gives the cereal a kinda a healthyish vibe - I mean, look at all that fiber! And naturally then this is also gluten-free which is a plus.

So could this be a healthy cereal?

Maybe both?

Two origins, and kinda confusing. I'm kinda stuck on that beans thing.

No matter. This is a good, munchy cereal. There's a slightly shiny shellacky coating that seems to really help the neapolitan puffs maintain a good crunch even after sitting around in milk for quite a while. That's a big plus. Plus, all that fiber - usually, I avoid breakfast cereal in the morning as I feel that somehow it only makes me hungrier. Not here - a bowl kept me reasonably filled til lunch!

Plus, as an added bonus, the pinkish/brownish milk it leaves behind is pretty decent. My kids loved having "chocolate milk" in their cereal. Again, bless their hearts.

I don't do cereal often, and I'm not sure I'd really go for these tri-flavored puffs over and over again, but they do make a nice little pick up. For a gluten-free fun cereal, why not? The box runs $3.99 which is a little high on the TJ's scale, so there's another slight knock. If it were up to our kids, these would be a surefire pantheon pick, but to us more reasonable adults, some matching threes will do.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Neapolitan Puffs Cereal: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Corn, Pea, Bean & Quinoa Crisps

Alright, let's get real for a minute. Reality check.

I strongly dislike reviewing items like Trader Joe's Corn, Pea, Bean & Quinoa Crisps. For real, I do. Won't say "hate" but it borders on it for sure.

Why in the world would that be?

It's not that these crisps taste bad. No, not at all. I swear each main component - green peas, yellow peas, corn, black beans, quinoa - can be tasted individually and yet as part of a bigger whole, like some conglomerated leguminous amalgam in bite-sized six-sided form. Some crisps seem to feature some ingredients more than others, as some have scarcely any peas, others are pocketed with them everywhere like teenaged acne. There's definitely a heavy earthy vibe too, and these buggers are oddly filling. I mean, think of all the fiber.

Texturewise, they work too. If you're familiar with PopChips, these are along the same lines as there's an airy, munchy, popcorn chip feel to them. These TJ crisps do seem a little denser - again, consider the fiber - but there's that sensation of light snacking that suddenly gets kinda heavy pretty quick. Of note, the quinoa doesn't stand out much as agrain, in case you were thinking it might be crispy toasted quinoa on here - there's not. And overall it's more of a baked/airpooped feel than fried, as there's not too much grease while having a certain dryness to them.

So why the dislike of reviewing such an item? It's hard to make everyone happy. Products like these toe a certain line. It's almost like a John Travolta/Nick Cage-esque "Faceoff" scenario - is it healthy masquerading as junky, or junky actually being healthy? Do they switch back and forth? In truth, as usual, it's probably somewhere in the middle - but some of y'all have pretty strong opinions and if I dare not agree with you - ooooh boy.

And then there's the salt.

Listen, I love all of you. I do, really. Well, okay, that's mostly true. But love requires honesty, right? Honestly I can't get people who complain about things being too salty when they're not really all that salty. That's just people being salty, not a product. For my day job, I read cardiac patient's medical notes all day, and I can't tell youm how many times a day I read "patient urged to reduce salt intake." I know salt is bad, you don't need to me. I try to limit myself.

But I know some of y'all will claim these are too salty. I know you will. Yet...they aren't salty. At all. Sure, there's salt in them, but an identical sized serving of Cheerios or Joe's O's has just as much if not more sodium. No one ever complains about salty breakfast cereal. but review chips, even those fairly low in sodium by chip standard? Salt, salt, salt. Hissss.

All that being said, good chips, and good for a change up from normal tortilla chips. They'd be awesome with salsa and even better with a little guac - wish I had some here to pair up. Good chips at only like $3 for the bag, and good enough for some double 4's.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Corn, Pea, Bean & Quinoa Crisps: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pancake Bread

Currently, my kids are obsessed with the movie The Greatest Showman. It's the music, I think, as evidenced by them commanding Alexa to play the soundtrack essentially nonstop. It's a good movie - I've always been a Hugh Jackman fan (who isn't?) and as much as ten-years-ago me would mock current me for saying it, Zac Efron got some talent. If you're not familiar, it's the story of PT Barnum and how he built his circus empire. One of his tricks: kinda massaging the truth a little, to kinda hoodwink the paying customer a little. Like, for instance, having the "world's tallest man" already be an abnormally tall guy, but then putting him on stilts. Or having the "world's largest man" shove a few pillows under his clothes for a little dramatic effect. In a way, it's kinda an innocent playful deception, which most people knew but were willing to be lured in any way by the show and spectacle of it.

All this brings me to Trader Joe's Pancake Bread.

In a world full of carbo-crossovers, most involving pretzels or crosissants (but never pretzels AND croissants - c'mon now!), we now have this. Pancakes and bread, together, in perfect harmony, right? How did it take so long for this to be a thing?

Be honest though. Close your eyes. Forget the label that says "pancake bread." Take a taste. Does it really taste like pancakes? Really? Be honest.

To me, nah. Blindfolded, I'd say it tastes more like a soft cinnamon bread than anything else. All the crumblies on top is more brown sugar, etc than anything else. To be fair, there is a maple essence as well. It's soft and crumbly and a little moist and definitely, and not more rugged or dense like a banana bread. The bread makes an excellent snack, a quick breakfast, would be delicios warmed or eaten straight from the container...but it's more bread than a pancake.

Slap the name "Pancake Bread" on it....okay, now that it's been suggested, I can see it.

Of course, if it were to be named "Soft Cinnamon Maple Bread", while being more apt a descriptor, that's not nearly as exciting. I mean, it'd take me years to buy it probably. But embellish the truth a smidge in some backroom marketing meeting, call it pancake bread - voila! Take the world by storm!

This is why I don't work in marketing.

For the record, Sandy disagrees with me. "It tastes just like a pancake with a lot of syrup kinda drenched in," she said. It should be noted that she enjoys her pancakes with a small puddle of syrup on the side which she daintily dips her pancake bites in, so she'd know what a syrup-logged pancake would actually taste and feel like is beyond me. Other online reviews I've seen claim the TJ's pancake bread tastes just like a buttermilk pancake. I can see where it's all coming from, but it's overstating the facts in my lonesome, sure to be unpopular opinion.

Regardless, the pancakesque loaf is delicious and kinda intoxicating in its carby-comfort ways. I love it. I just wish it were more honest with itself. If Hugh Jackman PT Barnum can, so can this bread, right? My only downvote is for the slight deception of purported pure pancakeyness.  Matching fours from the wife and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pancake Bread: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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

Petrified fruitcake slices.

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

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

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

Ingredients: Fruit, nuts, (other stuff).

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

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

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

Maybe I'm exaggerating about the texture.

Am I exaggerating about the texture?

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

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gingerbread Spice Granola

Ah, gingerbread. This product looks festive and has a gingerbread man-shaped, see-through window on the packaging. A product worthy of a Christmas Eve Day blog post, no doubt. Let's dive right in.

I'm not sure if I'm the odd man out here, but I don't recall having gingerbread much as a kid. No gingerbread cookies or actual gingerbread men. Certainly no gingerbread cereal. I feel like gingerbread may have been more European, or perhaps just characteristic of older generations. Maybe late Gen X'ers were too spoiled by tooth-rotting sugar cookies and chocolate to honor the natural zing of ginger. I'm trying to appreciate it more and more in my old age, especially since ginger provides a long laundry list of health benefits.

Now, we've definitely seen Trader Joe's overdo the ginger in the past. Another granola cereal comes to mind as far as that goes. Of course, there are plenty of you out there that crave those blasts of raw ginger. And plenty of you who don't. Each to his own, right?

Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Nathan came to say: this product has the best balance of actual ginger flavor and brown sugary sweetness that we've seen from TJ's to date...at least in cerealized form. Sonia gobbled it down faster than any other cereal in recent memory. Usually she lets her cereal soggify well beyond any reasonable duration of time, allowing the crunchy bits to deteriorate into a porridge-like consistency, treating all crispy and crunchy cereals more like cold oatmeals. Not sure why. This one, I'm pretty sure there was still some crunch left in the granola when she finished her bowl. That's a testament to how much she appreciated it.

I liked it, too. The ingredients are top quality, and make sense for a semi-indulgent breakfast treat. Oats, brown rice syrup, cane sugar, pecans, candied ginger, cinnamon, just to name a few. We haven't tried it warm yet, but I'm sure it's just as good. Nor have we tried it as a yogurt-topper or anything similarly adventurous. We've just been having it for breakfast every day now for about three days in a row and are just about to polish off the bag. Maybe next year we'll prepare it a different way...if we're not overwhelmed with another batch of brand new TJ's Christmas goodies.

Four Christmas stars from the missus and three and a half Christmas stars from me. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good bite!

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Snowflake Pastry

I want to say it was two Christmases ago, but Sonia and I splurged and bought one of those O & H Danish Kringles from Trader Joe's, and it was amazing. All who partook of the pastry agreed that it was divine: family, friends, guests, and pets. The decision was unanimous. Whether dunked or dry, buttered or not, that pastry was a win, no matter how you sliced it. We neglected a review on this blog since there are generally so many Trader Joe's brand goodies to be scrutinized this time of year.

But with offerings like this one, TJ's is making us wish we'd picked up another Kringle instead.

They've got the right idea: a soft bread, almond paste filling, and some sugar sprinkled on top. But the execution is poor. Just look at the uneven distribution of the sugar. The almond paste is severely deficient throughout the bulk of the pieces, and even the bread itself is slightly sub-par.

The bites that were full of almond paste were head and shoulders better than their non-almondy counterparts, but there's simply not enough of it to go around. There's a thin ring of the stuff right where the outer lumps of bread join to the inner circle. When one snags a piece from this area, the first bite or two tends to have copious quantities of the almond paste, but after that, it's just plain old boring bread.

Unlike the Kringle, this product is conveniently divided into sections, making for potentially simpler servings. No knife needed. Simply tear off a slice with your hands, in the manner of a loaf of monkey bread or pull-apart cake. As you can see in the picture below, however, my better half did not trust my grubby paws and opted to slice her pieces with surgical precision anyway. 

The product does dunk well, absorbing a generous lot of whatever hot beverage you're sipping at the moment, but that can be said about nearly any holiday pastry, from loaves to cakes to muffins or even cookies. Heating the pastry improves both taste and texture slightly, but does not entirely redeem it.

There are about nine servings in the package, according to the nutrition info, and for once, I won't argue with that assessment. $5.99 for the whole thing makes it affordable, but probably not the best way to spend six bucks at Trader Joe's this time of year.

Sonia's biggest complaint was the uneven sugar and almond filling distribution, as well, but she was quite content dipping and dunking with her beloved java. Three and a half stars from her.

Had the bread itself been melt-in-your-mouth delicious, it might have been worth it, but as it stands, I'll be a bit Scrooge-ish and snub this poor pastry with two and a half stars.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Donut Bites

From across the aisle, it beckoned. I was solely aiming for some frozen chicken when it's bright cheery blue neon packaging called out, an irresistable siren. "It's just not fair," I exclaimed to the nice woman stocking the frozen goods case nearby. "You all need to stop doing this." We laughed, smiled, and shared a nod of understanding.

The cashier smiled, grinned and exclaimed, "Oh boy? When did we get these?!??!?! Where are they?" Promptly after checking out my cart, off he ran, undoubtedly an impromptu sample party on his mind.

The wife cheered. The kids surprisngly got a lot more interested in eating their dinner in a timely fashion. Even their spinach, of all things. And me? I felt warm and happy inside. Anticipation for something good is a healthy drug.

What singular thing could possibly elicit all these responses? None other a brand new box of Trader Joe's Donut Bites. Donuts! Who can hate on donuts!?!!?!? Everyone loves them! At $2.99 for a boxed dozen, it's a no-brainer buy. I mean, just look at them on the package...flaky sugar atop warm sofy doughy donut with some sweet 'n tart raspberry jam oozing out...good luck resisting that.

Well, I will be going forward.

Hate to be the bearer of bad news...but this isn't close to being a particularly good product. It's enough that I really wonder how anyone can mess up a donut so bad.

First of all, look at them, straight out of the oven. It's a nondescript semi-leaky doughball. Looks nothing like the package. Second, who bakes a donut, really? Third, the donut dough tastes alright and has an okay feel to it....but it's more bready than an actual donut should be. Which makes no sense, but it doesn't have the donut feel or taste at all. And fourth...the jam. A good filling could salvage a lot here. Nope. It's more red pectin ooze than anything. No sugariness. No tart as one would expect from a raspberry. The jelly's almost completely devoid of flavor by itself.

It's hard to be let down by anything claiming to be a donut, but here we are. The kids were just happy to have something with sugar, and they devoured enough spinach to earn them that they were going to enjoy this supposed treat no matter what. Sandy and I are both thoroughly not impressed. The bites are just so bland. There's the smallest of comfort vibe coming from these bites (presumably because warmed and carb-y equals comfort) but it's about the only thing going for them. These are not going to be a repeat purchase as they're not worthy of the premature hype we ascribed to them. We're going pretty low here...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Donut Bites: 3.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Vegan Banana Bread with Walnuts

It's always amazed me that veggies like zucchini, carrots, rhubarb, and even pumpkins can provide the base for delicious desserts. Zucchini bread, carrot cake, pumpkin pie, and rhubarb pie? Heck yes. But prior to sampling each of those goodies, my intuition told me to steer clear. I was wrong. Hey, it happens to the best of us.

Bananas on the other hand? That's just a no-brainer. Of course they would make taste-tastic treats. They're already sweet, they have an almost bread-like consistency, and they're super malleable. Since it lacks the intimidation factor of vegetable-based desserts, I've been sampling and praising banana bread from my earliest days—so the bar has been set pretty high.

This offering is obviously vegan, which means no eggs or dairy—and in our opinion, as non-vegans, this product doesn't suffer at all for want of animal products. It's soft, slightly sweet, and has a nice bready, banana-y flavor. The walnuts add a pleasant touch, although, there could be a few more of them. It might have required some kind of refrigeration, but I wouldn't have minded some real banana chunks scattered throughout the loaf.

All in all, it's comparable to most other shelf-stable, pre-packaged banana breads I've had. It's no competition for homemade or fresh-baked, but it's a pretty impressive accomplishment considering the lack of animal-based elements. This is one of the tastiest vegan desserts I've had in recent memory, and at about $4, it's worth a whirl whether you follow a vegan diet or not.

Sonia would have liked to see this product go the alternative grain route. Unbleached, enriched wheat flour is so...commonplace and humdrum, even if you don't have celiac issues. Since this bread is already flirting with that "healthier alternative" vibe, we wouldn't have minded a gluten-free offering here. Maybe in the future. I often find rice-based flours taste better to me anyway, so I'd almost always pick the non-gluten offering if it were available.

All things considered, this is still a thumbs up from both Sonia and I. Four stars from her. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Quinoa Stars Cereal

"Now THIS is my kinda cereal!"

Umm...okay...

Now, if this would have been uttered about, say, some pretty decent hot cocoa-inspired cereal, or some special edition Lucky Charms, or heck, even a fresh box of Honey Nut Cheerios, I'd understand. Those are all great cereals with a lot less ho-hum than an average bowful of corn flakes.

But...something like Trader Joe's Crispy Quinoa Stars Cereal? Really? People can get hyped about, of all things, quinoa for breakfast? Wow.

Apparently the answer is yes. And apparently one of those people is my lovely bride, as she happened to exclaim that exact phrase with spot-on inflection that implied complete excitement as she snagged the box and happily tossed into our cart.

Well, okay. Alright. Guess I can give it a try, too.

After some debate, it seems to come down to a simple fact. There's certain grains that are much more prevalent for breakfast cereals. Corn. Rice. Wheat. Oats. As a result, there's a certain level of acclimation and acceptance that can be a little hard to wander outside of, especially when grabbing a handful for a comfort snack, as is my most usual matter of cereal consumption these days.

I think that's what my perceived issue is. These quinoa stars taste exactly what I'd expect a quinoa-based cereal to taste like. They're super earthy, a little nutty. There's a small touch of honey to try and sweeten the whole deal, which kinda works, but can't fully cover up the whole quinoa-ity of the cereal. As a result, there's also this lingering aftertaste that seems to intensify. I ate a small handful as I sat down to write this, and I can still taste it all in my gums and it seems to be spreading to the back of my throat. It's not exactly awful, but not entirely pleasant either.

There's plenty of crispy crunch, though. My wife states it holds up well in milk. There is a slight stale vibe to them - not that ours are actually stale, at least I don't think so. But after occasionally consuming verified stale cereal, there is a small similarity, and I actually don't mean it as a knock. It's just a base for comparison.

And this is perhaps a small thing...but the packaging here is a little wacky. Of course, it's just a bag inside the box...but our inner bag was a full two inches shorter than the actual box. I've never seen a cereal box with that much headspace. It's odd.

Overall, I'm not gonna hate here, as I'm not the target audience. As someone with no gluten restrictions but knowing enough people who do, anytime a half decent gluten free product at a good price ($2.99) comes to market is a event worthy of at least a little celebration. But I can barely eat more than a small handful or two, and I'd probably not enjoy a full bowl. Sandy's kinda the same way, although she enjoy it more than I do and claims she'll buy it again. We'll see, as her initial enthusiasm has certainly dulled in the past few days. "I don't hate it" is about all she'll say. That's a far cry from the parade I thought she was gonna throw for it....eh well. Two spoons from me, three from the wifey.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Quinoa Stars Cereal: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Caramel Apple Flavored Granola

Rise and shine, autumn aficionados! We're looking at another applicious treat this fine morning—another mashup of two great foods. Every one of our last five posts or so have been mind-blowing mergers of two or more fascinating foods and/or beverages. Today: what happens when a caramel apple explodes into a bag of ordinary granola?

It gets...way less boring!

Not that I have a problem with plain old granola. It's a classic. Always will be. But if you're looking for something with a little more flavor and excitement, look no further.

Large slices of dried apple grace the sides of the massive hunks of granola here. Those big "rocks" of cereal do break apart fairly easily with a spoon, particularly after soaking in milk for a minute or two. Some of the heftier chunks are way too sizable for being shoveled directly into the mouth—even if you have a particularly big mouth like me.

There's an immediately detectable apple presence in most bites. It's sweet and tart, but it tastes much more like dried apple than an actual caramel apple. No biggie. There's still a caramel-esque sweetness, though, too, even in bites with little or no apple. They must have used caramel to fuse all the granola bits together. Actually, now that I've checked, I don't really see "caramel" on the ingredients list, but maybe it's, like, the combo of brown rice syrup, cane sugar, and vanilla extract...?

Guess what else I see in those ingredients? "Pumpkin spiced pumpkin seeds!" I guess Russ is right. I just can't escape being a basic white boy...even when I'm trying to strategically balance pumpkin spice with the other flavors of fall. Oh well. You can't really taste it here. At least I can't.

Also, both Sonia and I were surprised to see "peanuts" in the ingredients. We didn't taste them or see them much at all. I mean, it's quite possible that they've fallen to the bottom of the bag. We haven't finished the whole thing yet. 

As a side note, our resealable bag wasn't resealable. It had those two ziplock-like tracks, but when pinched together, they failed to mate like they're supposed to. Again, no biggie. We just used a chip clip dealie. Problem solved. Don't think the bag will be around long enough to get super stale anyway.

Double fours.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Gastronomiche Casa Milo Squid Ink Spaghetti

It doesn't happen often...but it does. I'm actually talking about two different things here.

First, a review of a non-TJ's branded product on our blog. Over 90% of a TJ's is their own house brand so there's plenty to choose from...but there are exceptions.

And secondly...my kids begging for something for dinner that doesn't involve the words "mac 'n cheese."

By some wizardry and magic, those two worlds coverged upon a single product: Gastronomiche Casa Milo Squid Ink Spaghetti. Available at your local Trader Joe's...maybe. Sandy follows a bunch of TJ's Instragram and Facebook pages and has seen a lot of buzz about this particular black pasta, as well as scores of pictures of empty shelves with the product tag and a sad face.

So apparently it's a big deal, so good enough for a review for me.

I think I get the appeal from my kids' standpoint: It's black! Spaghetti usually isn't! This is new and exciting and kinda spooky! I'm sure there's all sorts of creative Halloween-themed dishes you could make with this to have it be even more fun. Although both kids kinda forgot about it in the couple days between purchase and preparation as they both asked why their noodles were black. I just told them that I burned them.

What about us adults? I tried figuring out the benefits or plusses or anything that made squid ink pasta stand apart from the regular ol' semolina fare (aside from appearance of course) and came up with two things: it has more antioxidants and it tastes a little different. I'm not gonna argue about anything with antioxidants - the less oxidants I have to fight on my own, the better - but different taste? Really?

If anything I was surprised by how similar the squidghetti tasted to the usual. It took a few slow, careful, plain bites to discern a small difference, and even then I'm not sure it wasn't a case of me trying too hard. Really, for all intents and purposes, at least to me, it tastes the same, especially when adding garlic and EVOO and shrimp like we did.

Worth a try? Sure. Will it change your pasta-pounding world? Probably not. If you want a dark colored pasta that's truly different, here's another option. But I'm not intimidated by squid ink spaghetti anymore, at the very least, so perhaps I can be a little fancier if I ever see it on a menu somewhere. 'Til then, this will be in our occasional rotation I'm sure for the two or three bucks a package.

Bottom line: Gastronomiche Casa Milo Squid Ink Spaghetti: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Multigrain Bread and Trader Joe's Spanish Olive Cream Cheese Spread

I think my lovely wife fulfilled the creativity quota for this review in the short video below, so I'll just jump right in to the nitty gritty of these products:

We've seen sliced gluten free bread from TJ's before. This stuff is even better. The flavor is richer, nuttier. The texture is even closer to traditional multi-grain offerings than the previously-reviewed "Whole Grain" variety. It's roughly the same price at $4.49 for the loaf, and it might just be the best gluten-free bread I've ever had. Four and a half stars a piece on this product.

The cream cheese is moderately olivey. I think it tastes more like "olive juice" than actual olives—like they just mixed the olive brine water with cream cheese. It's not bad, though. There are very tiny pieces of olive in the mix. I wouldn't have minded them a little bigger—or maybe even olive slices rather than teeny-tiny little bits. Sonia seemed to like the creaminess and lack of olive chunks more than I did. It's an earthy, salty, savory flavor mixed in with the milky creaminess of traditional cream cheese. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

For more of Sonia's thoughts, check out the video review below!

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Multigrain Bread: Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Spanish Olive Cream Cheese Spread: Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ramen Soup

Might not yet be back-to-school time for all the pre-college crowd, but university arrival is in full swing out here in the 'burgh. As home to several major schools in close proximity to each other, the local Targets and Walmarts are over-flooded right now with masses of aspiring scholars getting their futons and table lamps and God knows whatever else.

And chances are, ramen noodles too. Need your stockpile.

Amazing I didn't suffer from malnourishment during college, as for three years I literally lived off of ramen and Papa John's pizza. Can barely touch ramen since, let alone it's slightly fancier cousin, that Cup o' Noodle feller.

There's a new twig on the ramen family tree: Trader Joe's Ramen Soup. There's presently two varieties as you can see: miso and chicken. Not that typically "flavors" matter for ramen - it's super salty cheap carbs. It's only a matter of what color the seasoning packet is, right?

Well, I've admittedly only tried the chicken variant, but even from it, I can tell these soup cups are a decent buy. There's not just a seasoning (read: salt) packet inside, but also a small flavoring oil baggie, which when mixed with hot water makes a frothier, almost "creamier", slightly richer soup broth. The noodles are pretty basic ramen, with nothing too fancy about them, so the decent broth is a real nice plus.

A word about the noodles, though: There's two ways these can be prepped. You can either pour in tap water and microwave, or pour in hot water and let it sit. Sandy said the second non-nuking method seems to work better, as the noodles seem to "cook" better and have a better texture to them.

At a little over a buck each, these TJ ramen cups seem a little pricier than any I'd remember from college...then again, everything's more expensive than 15 years ago and I was being spoiled by 1o packages of ramen for a buck back then, too. Haven't really kept tabs on ramen market prices since then. We'll be picking these up, especially as the weather finally begins to cool, for a quick and easy lunch / small carbo-loading boost at work type deal. It's not the fanciest in the world but for what they are, they're pretty good. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ramen Soups: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Toasties

On some mornings, I stumble out of bed feeling like a complete wreck of a human being—like using the term "hot mess" to describe myself would simply fail to capture the sheer magnitude of all the insecurities and secret vulnerabilities I hide from the world with marginal success on a daily basis. It's nothing unique to me—at least I hope it's not. And it's definitely not all the time. But certain steamy Tuesday mornings in August, I'm just not ready to face all those minute little challenges that life dishes out from all directions: from those work files that just magically disappear from Google Drive, to my uncanny knack of grabbing the shopping cart with the squeaky wheel, to my unfortunate inability to spread butter on a piece of toast without destroying the bread—and a similar ineptitude at splitting bready products like this one right down their middles. 

In fact, that's really my only complaint about this product: each piece should be just a tad thicker, and they should come pre-sliced. That was Sonia's first comment as well. There's a thin seam along the outside edge of the toasties that indicates that they might be pre-sliced, but upon further inspection, one finds that they most definitely have not been.

I have problems cutting bagels down the middle, let alone something this thin. Yes, I know they make bagel slicers, but I don't consume bagels with enough regularity to justify buying one. These "toasties" are even thinner than English muffins. And splitting English muffins has always been one of those life challenges that makes me wish I'd stayed in bed instead of braving the kitchen in search of breakfast. "You've failed as a human being, Nathan Rodgers," that little voice whispers, as bread crumbs and muffin chunks spill across the counter and onto the floor. As far as this product is concerned, we'll just say that the picture of the product in the middle of this post wasn't my first attempt at slicing and buttering these happy sweet bread rounds.

Now eating this bread is another experience entirely. After tasting it, I stopped feeling pathetic and frustrated, and began enjoying my day. 

There's a bright, tart, citrusy flavor, and a nutty whole wheat taste, as well. I'm not a huge fan of orange peel by itself, but it works here since it's subtle and faint, and is mostly overshadowed by the cranberries. The sunflower seeds are a nice touch. It's like they baked a trail mix into a loaf of bread.

The consistency of this product is more similar to a regular loaf of wheat bread than it is to either English muffins or bagels, but I guess those keep coming to mind because of the comparable round shape. It's nice and soft, and it toasts well—as long as you can manage to keep each slice in one piece.

I liked mine with plain old butter as the only topping. There's plenty of flavor present in the bread, even without any condiments. Sonia experimented with various jellies we had around the house—I don't think she was quite as thrilled with the flavor as I was, but in the end, she'll give the product a thumbs up as well. Four stars from her. Four from me. $2.49 for six toasties.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzels

Show me a person who says s/he doesn't like soft pretzels, and I'll show you a liar.

It's impossible to not enjoy a quality soft pretzel. I mean...salty carbs, what else do you need, right? Some folks say that Philadelphia is the capital of soft pretzels, but even though I'm from that area, I disagree to an extent. Philly-style soft pretzels are often cold, a bit stale-ish, a bit more "hard" than "soft", and if bought from a street vendor who hasn't had a health department inspection in a while, who know what "extras." I mean, given the opportunity, I'll down close to my weight in them - soft pretzel party platters from these guys are the devil - but an actual warm, soft, slightly chewy pretzel with a slightly crispy outer shell? Give me that all day long.

That's what we got with Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzels. Straight up, there's nothing too fancy about them. At $2.49 for a frozen foursome of handsized dough knots, it's a respectable value but nothing to get too crazed about...

...except, man, as any good pretzel, they're freakin' delish. To prep, you may choose to either heat for a couple minutes in the oven, or let thaw for about an hour or so. Most other frozen soft pretzels say to microwave them, which is a cardinal sin. That makes the pretzels hard and tough and generally not as enjoyable.


Sandy made these TJ's softies as part of a light "snacky" dinner the other night using both methods. The pretzels heated in the oven were softier and almost flufflier on the inside than the one we let thaw out, which makes sense. It's a pretty plain dough, with slight eggy flavor from the shell, and both types had that requisite chewiness. Couldn't seem to really get the salt to stick to the thawed out one, though, as much as we tried.

Oh. Salt. There's plenty of it, in the typical big grain crunchy crystal variety. I'm not even sure we used 10% of it. The rest is going into the winter sidewalk deicing stash for sure.

Not much else to really say, it's a good pretzel. Eat as is, melt some cheese on top, dip into whatever you'd like...it'll all work. Can't exactly go wrong. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzel: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Uncured Ham & Swiss Cheese Flaky Croissant Dough Squares

"I'm a simple man. I like pretty, dark-haired women and breakfast food."

I'll admit to have never having watched a minute of Parks & Recreation. Who has the time to watch TV? I barely do - pretty much only in cases of new seasons of Stranger Things coming out. I mean, it's been a good five years that Sandy and I have sworn we'd get caught up on Dr. Who - hasn't happened. TV room in our thrid floor attic is way too hot in the summer.

But that quote up top, from Ron Swanson, is quite a good one. I agree wholeheartedly. I think I'd like him quite a bit - maybe not as much as breakfast for dinner, and definitely not as much as bacon, and absolutely not as much as bacon for dinner - and maybe one day I'll finally plop down and see what all the fuss is.

Until then, for dinner, we had Trader Joe's Uncured Ham & Swiss Cheese Flaky Croissant Dough Squares.

Here's one breakfast food that decidedly ought to stay at breakfast. It's not that these ham and cheese dough squares aren't any good. They're certainly pretty tasty. There's four per box which bake for about 15 to 20 minutes in the oven, and as one would expect from a croissant-inspired pastry of sorts, they get all light and flaky and crispy and a little greasy. There's such a satisfying bite to a good croissant, and that's what we get here, even if in dough square form. The melted Swiss cheese adds a lot of slightly salty, greasy comfort vibe, while the bits of cubed ham taste actually more sweet than salty, but they work well with the rest of the dish.

I think they'd work great for a light breakfast, alongside some coffee and some fruit. There's enough here to have you get up and go. But as dinner? Nah. Too light, I'd say. It's not the croissants' fault - I mean, they are what they are and it shouldn't have been too surprising - but if I had a voracious enough of an appetite, I probably could eaten the whole box. As it was, I was sneaking bites from my kids, who were surprisingly slow at chowing them down despite their proclamations of loving these ham, and cheese squares. My three year old wants to give them 21 Golden Spoons despite struggling to eat half of hers.

Also, the name...doesn't it strike you as a little goofy? "Flaky Croissant Dough Squares." I mean, it's a proper description...but I'd go with something else, maybe like "Open Faced Croissants" or something along those lines.

In all, these TJ's ham and cheese squares are certainly decent, to almost pretty darn good. There's nothing utterly spectacular to them, and I'd say that maybe they're missing a small something, like a little spinach or a fancier cheese or a small flavor sprinkle of some type. But for a good, solid, kinda basic croissant-type deal? Not a bad deal at all for about $3.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Uncured Ham & Swiss Cheese Flaky Croissant Dough Squares: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons