Trader Joe's Eggplant Garlic Spread with Sweet Red Peppers

 As you may have heard on our last podcast, the spreads shelf is one I commonly ignore at Trader Joe's. It's not out of any ill will...it's just I'm much more apt to go for some salsa or hummus before checking there for a spready snack. So when given the challenge to find something I've never tried, it was kinda an easy call to scope out that section.

What's not as easy is to discern my opinion on Trader Joe's Eggplant Garlic Spread with Sweet Red Peppers. I...really don't have much of one. But I have a couple thoughts. Listen, I'm not gonna dock something just because it's not in my usual gustatory wheelhouse. But when something just kinda tastes like cold, wet, stringy veggie mush, without much else, I'm gonna call it as I see it. That's the case here. There's maybe a little red pepper or tomato sweetness, but not garlic or anything else to really add any dimension. I mean, "garlic" is right in the product name, I should be able to taste it!

Sandy's not huge on it either. But we're both not against the eggplant spread...there could be some very good redeeming qualities that we're just ignorant enough to overlook...and we're all for healthy snacks and appetizers and whatnot. We'd both eat this if served at a party or if we were invited somewhere. But to buy it for ourselves? Nah, probably not again, even though it's just a couple bucks. "Meh" is exactly how we feel, so a meh score is exactly what it's gonna get.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Eggplant Garlic Spread with Sweet Red Peppers: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Mousse Eggs

So, true story. My name's Russ, short for Russell. Sandy's maiden name is Stover, which means, when we got hitched, if I were to take her name (instead of the opposite)...I'd be Russell Stover. Darn you, patriachal society, I could've been able to walk into any store at Valentine's Day, get a box of candy, say it has my name on it, and claim it's mine! Doh!

Anyways, might be for the better. When it comes down to it, there's not too many exciting Valentine's Day candy out there. I mean, box of chocolates? Kinda boring. Maybe part of it is the sugary hangover from Christmas is still kinda glazed upon me at that time. And with few exceptions, most notably that firecrackery Wonka-esque chocolate bar from last year, Trader Joe's has kinda followed suit, offering fairly ho-hum candies in February.

Well, for Easter? I love Easter candy. Chocolate bunnies. Jelly beans (especially black ones...yes, I'm odd). The bagfuls I could get as kid at Zern's for a buck or two from my dad's wallet. And of course, egg-inspired stuff (Cadbury Creme!!!!)...and, um, also Trader Joe's Chocolate Mousse Eggs.

Granted, these are more of a Tastykake/Little Debbie/HoHo type concoction than an actual candy candy, but they looked all decadent and seasonally fancy hanging around the rest of the cakes and baked goods on a recent trip. But the actual experience of ingestion of one of these eggs just doesn;t quite back it up. I mean, they're not bad. Unlike other similarly inspired confections, the chocolate coating actually tastes reasonably like chocolate instead of brown sugary wax, and it envelops some reasonably good cake and "silky mousse" i.e. frosting that thinks quite highly of itself. It's an enjoyable, soft bite that melds and holds together well, hitting a few classic comfort food points.

But ultimately, there's just not that much memorable about them, either. If I were in dire need of a chocolate fix, and these eggs were all I had, they'd work, but given the choice, I'd much rather hit up a TJ's Simply Nutty Bar for some chocosatisfaction.

Also...considering the visual of a chicken laying an egg, was brown really the right color choice? Maybe I'm too city boy and so the anatomical correctness is a bit askew, but that suggests something decidedly not appetizing.

Ultimately, the Mrs. and I will regard them as a fun, good little treat that we reasonably enjoyed once, but that will be that. Sandy did mention they were kinda like a fancy Little Debbie, which I presume is a compliment. Still, there's just something so kinda perfectly average to me about them that's not worth the rather empty caloric intake, so pardon the middling score. You can click here for the nutritional stats (these are apparently pretty much identical to a pumpkin shaped product that is out in the fall). 2.5 from me, 3 from the wifey.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Mousse Eggs: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Roasted Pistachio Toffee

"Hrmm...what's that last word there? Squares? Alrighty, sounds perfect!"

That must have been my thought when picking up a tub of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Roasted Pistachio Toffee...because I was downright surprised to bite into a big ol' thick chunk of toffee the first time I popped one of these in my mouth. And, I will admit, dismayed. It's not that I don't like toffee - I do, very much - but toffee and chocolate aren't always a perfect match for me. An exception can be made for Heath Bars, and I'm not sure if that's more the milk chocolate, or the thinner, crispier brand of toffee. But for these TJ's tidbits, there's just a thin coat of dark chocolate over a veritable chunky slab of toffee that threatens the integrity of your dental work with every bite. It doesn't help that's there just so. much. toffee. that its flavor overwhelms both the chocolate and the pistachio exoskeleton. I'll happily admit I liked the small palmfuls of nuts I could pick out off the bottom with a little chocolate attached ...I'd probably say 80% of the pistachios fell off and could be enjoyed sans toffee.

Bought the tub for four bucks-ish on a solo parenting/two kids in tow trip on a day Sandy didn't feel so great as a little cheer-up treat for her. That explains my lack of basic discernment in product comprehension, but at least I knew enough to get something right up her alley. I definitely made her happy with a two thumbs up and a four score from her. I don't share the same enthusiasm, but, as usual, I'm willing to be wrong here. Click here for the nutritional stats.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Roasted Pistachio Toffee: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Five Country Espresso Blend

 If your household is anything like mine before Sandy and I have any coffee....Lord help you. Getting two kids out the door and me out to work is a slow rolling car crash every day. Plus, we're both so cranky and tired, it's...just ugly. I see you nodding your head in understanding. That's all pre-coffee. Post-coffee, we're all good.

New to our rotation is Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Five Country Espresso Blend, featuring beans from Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, Peru, and Sumatra. To say it's "dark" is a bit of an understatement - taking a whiff of some freshly ground beans, there's this potent pugnacity that hits your nostrils in almost a tobacco-esque way. Once brewed, it's not as concentrated, obviously, but there's still this essence and appearance that says this is a coffee to be taken seriously.

But...the coffee doesn't quite hold up to its appearance. First, it's just kinda boring tasting - bittersweet, a bit tinny, kinda one note or two note at best. For having five differently sourced beans, I was hoping for something a little more complex. And, as with most dark roasts, it's doesn't have much of a caffeine boost, either. It's definitely a two-cupper for the morning, but on the bright side, a reliable afternoon warmer-upper without getting too hopped up.

It's an okay cup at best - better than gas station, cheaper than coffee shop, trustworthier than the company pot - but there's better out there on the TJ shelves. I'll finish up the can at work, but it's not a probable repurchase. Bonus points (as always) for being organic and fair trade, though.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Five Country Espresso Blend: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Pacific Flounder with Crab Meat Stuffing

Here in Pittsburgh, we take Lenten Fridays seriously. How seriously? Just click here - fish fry season! Any Catholic church worth it's weight holds their own, though no one yet can ably explain to me why eating a giant slab of fried fish is exactly a "sacrifice." Eh well. Bonus points to any fish fry with homemade pierogi. And if you don't know what a fish fry even is - here's a spot-on comedic primer.

But...you can't always make it to one. That's our no-fry Friday last Friday. We did make it to Trader Joe's though, saw his Pacific Flounder with Crab Meat Stuffing, and in case you find yourself in similar predicament and motivation today....

Pass on by. Not that great. Not awful. But not good. All in all, this stuffed seafood contrivance is a good idea...but just lacks any taste. Like, none. No herbs. No spice. Nothing from the cheese or breadcrumbs or saucy mayo stuff or anything else listed (the label says bell peppers, we didn't spot any!).  Just soft, flaky fish of the decent variety, filled with mushy nondescript crab with the occasional crumby grit or saucy splooge.

Both Sandy and I ended up after a couple bites reaching for the brown sugar BBQ sauce we had out for our fries just to add a little something to make our dinners actually taste like something. In all, these aren't the worst things you could spend $4ish on at TJ's, but there's lots better. Maybe these could be a Lenten sacrifice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pacific Flounder with Crab Meat Stuffing: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Jicama Sticks

Sonia had purchased this product on one of her solo TJ's runs, so it was a surprise when I found it on the kitchen counter. "What are these Ticama Sticks?" I asked. Just then, I noticed it said "Jicama Sticks," with a "J." I had been thrown off by the peculiar font TJ's chose. 

So I re-phrased my question to: "What are these Jai-camma Sticks?" butchering the product name like a true 'Murican. Sonia's reply came back with the correct pronunciation. "Oh, the Hee-comma Sticks? They're really good! I used to eat these growing up. My mom would give them to me when I was sick."

They're basically just run-of-the-mill root vegetables, similar to radishes or turnips, but sliced into long, narrow sticks. When you Google the phrase "jicama tastes like," the top two auto-fill choices that pop up are "like apple" and "like dirt," a not so subtle clue that there may be two distinct camps when it comes to jicama appreciation. I'll agree the texture is very similar to a fresh, crisp apple, but I must admit, when it comes to taste, I fall squarely in the "tastes like dirt" category.

I can appreciate fresh root vegetables: potatoes and carrots are great, radishes are nice in salads, and even beets have their place, but jicama? Meh. Not for me. Sonia loves it, though—at least most of the time. Must be a Latin/Hispanic thing.

I'm a fan of almost anything with a few drops of lemon juice and a dusting of chili powder, but even that combo couldn't redeem these things in my humble opinion. Sonia describes jicama sticks as "nutty and lightly sweet." She's got a great imagination when it comes to jicama apparently—although she did dock some points in this case because Trader Joe's selection was "not as sweet as the jicama (she) grew up on."

Sonia's going to go with a 3.5. Even though they're not the greatest representation of jicama, she's quite impressed that TJ's carries them at all. I'm tempted to go with one star, but I'll go with a 2 since they're healthy and nutritious, cheap and convenient.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gingerbread Latte Naturally Flavored Drink Mix

We've never had a stellar gingerbread product from Trader Joe's, at least flavor-wise, but we've never had a terrible one either. I mean, the flavor of cookie butter isn't such a far cry from gingerbread, but it's oh so much better than gingerbread, as most of you already know. It's almost a curse more than a blessing, because I kind of want everything labeled "gingerbread" to taste somewhat like cookie butter. I know, I know, they're two different flavors. Speculoos isn't exactly gingerbread. But that begs the question: why didn't TJ's just give us a cookie butter latte mix instead of a gingerbread one? Who knows?

You'll rarely hear me complain about the texture of a beverage, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to here. There was a strange filminess to the liquid, for lack of a better term. I found it to have this unusual consistency regardless of whether we made it with almond milk or water. Strangely, I liked the mix slightly better with water than with any kind of milk. The milk almost made it too thick. Water yielded a concoction a bit more like a latte than a milkshake—and I guess that's a good thing, since they were apparently going for "latte" in the first place.

The taste is like a bizarre, milky, liquefied gingerbread man. You can taste cinnamoniness and nutmegginess, but there's also some other unidentifiable flavors mixed in there. The whole thing gives way to an unpleasant aftertaste and makes you want to drink something else to cleanse your palate. It's almost like drinking a slightly watered-down, gingerbread-flavored creamer—an additive intended to be consumed as a secondary ingredient in a normal black coffee or tea.

It's not the worst thing I've ever tried, but it's mostly an unpleasant experience in my humble opinion. 2.5 stars from me. Same from Sonia. She says it needs more espresso or coffee flavor—and it's very rare for her to crave more sugar, but she thinks this mix might be a little better if it were sweeter, too. I'm not so sure that's the problem, but I can't really put my finger on what is.

Dare I ask...what did you think of it? Are we being too harsh? Are we being grinches? Did you discover any preparation methods or additional ingredients to make it more palatable?

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Harvest Blend

*Sniff, sniff* Hrmm, what's that smell in the air? Let's see...very late summer, not quite the autumnal equinox, warm days but cool nights, kids back in school...ah yes, must be the beginning on the annual onslaught of what I call "Pumpkin Everything!" season. Ugh. Annual disclaimer time: It's not that I'm anti-pumpkin stuff. I'm just anti- the overabundance of quite literally everything stinkingly possible having some nutmeg and cinnamon tossed on it and it be called a pumpkinpumpkin somethin'somethin'. I get it: basic capitalism. Supply and demand. But still. Let's get a hold of ourselves, people.

Of course, TJ's is no exception. I don't have the time in the day to individually link to everything pumpkin we've ever reviewed, nor the resources to hire an intern to do that menial labor, but there's several dozen, at least. Click here and go scour around if so inclined - chances are, if it's Trader Joe's, and if it's pumpkin, we've done it, or soon will. Thanks, Nathan, for doing most of that.

Despite my gourded enthusiasm about most pumpkin stuff, though, got to admit, I was a little intrigued by one of the newer salad-in-a-bag deals, Trader Joe's Harvest Blend. Maybe it was the success of the kale quinoa deal a little bit ago that whet my appetite, but I can get behind pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin cornbread croutons sound good, and...what the....

Pumpkin vinaigrette? I'm not a big salad dressing guy, but a nice light Italian or regular vinaigrette is okay every once in a while, but is this really something that oughtta be crossbred with anything big and orange that grows on a vine?  I tell you the truth: your entire perception of this salad hinges nearly completely on how you feel about that question.

For me: not sold. Not abhorred either. But...it's kinda weird. As a plus, from what I can tell from perusing the ingredients, there's no cinnamon or nutmeg or any pumpkin-pie like spices added to the dressing itself - it seems to be straight up pumpkin - imagine that! The flavor was kind of uneven - some bites tasted like normal dressing, others tasted like "pumpkin pie on lettuce" to use Sandy's description. Sometimes it even was sharply discordant with the natural greeny bite of the kale and other leafy greens. It's odd, and I probably would have been happier without it, but that'd be disservicing you all.

As for the rest of the salad, it was pretty solid. Good, crisp greens, with some broccoli and carrot slaw for a crunch much like the aforementioned quinoa salad. There weren't quite enough raisins, seeds or chopped dates for my liking, as those added some texture, variety and sweetness, but I didn't feel cheated either. As for those pumpkin cornbread croutons - good enough I'd probably buy just a straight box of them for a snack. They tasted just like a good cornbread, with a little smooch of pumpkin pie taste - I can buy into that. Absolute highlight of the salad right there, though they do get soggy and spongy if you save any for leftovers.

Overall, it seems like a good deal for the $4.49. It's big enough for a dinner salad for two hungry folks, or if used as a side (like we did with some pulled pork using my favorite barbeque sauce), expect leftovers. I'd probably get it again but pitch the dressing - if I'm going to drizzle something on my otherwise perfectly good dinner, I don't want to be indecisive about it. Same with Sandy, who said it could really use some other type of dressing, but other than that, the salad was great. She could only muster about a 2.5 when taking the whole package into consideration. Hrmmm...salad without dressing would be about a 4, with it was about a 2 for me...so let's call it a 3.

Trader Joe's Harvest Blend: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral

Every once in a while, someone makes the assertion that I am a talented writer. Even more every once in a while, that someone is not my mom. And then, yet even more every once in a while, I get the question of why I basically only write about Trader Joe's products, and not things like politics or social issues or other weighty, important muckity muck like that.

Easy. We all need a break from that. Just check your Facebook newsfeed. And just consider me pretty hesitant to add yet another clamoring voice to that festering noise pile of opinion, when really, at the end of the day, I'll either agree with you, or we'll balance each other out, so either way we're good in my opinion. Let's talk happy stuff like food instead.

That's why in this review of Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral, I'll avoid all that Greek/EU economic WTFery going on (that's a Greek spiral in its own way). Instead, revisit my classic 5 Cheese Frusta review here, because perfect segue...

Much like that frusta, all the cheeses in this spirally guy just kinda melt all together in an indistinguishable meld. And instead of cheesy, I'd say it tastes more salty and perhaps even gritty. I know for sure what gouda is supposed to taste like - not there. And I've been to enough Greek food festivals to be confident that I'd be able to identify the others, even if I'm not 100% sure what either "semi-hard" (flaccid?) or "blue" (not "bleu") cheese is...and no feta? Hrmmm.

That's not quite all, either. The phyllo roll seems to be one long, long section of dough sheets rolled up, but no base to hold them together, so cutting the pie-shaped section like the one picture on the box front results in multiple crescent-shaped sections. Plus, while baking in the oven, the whole thing was just kinda spewing out grease and stuff, which dampened my enthusiasm somewhat. It's not like that should have been unexpected, but still. The end result is a greasy, crispy, kinda bland, yet kinda salty dish that would be okay alongside some other, more successful Greek-inspired TJ's products, but don't make this one the star of a Greek feast.

 Not too much else to say. Sandy seemed indifferent when we ate this about a week ago, so I was surprised when she decided to give it a four. "Just so crispy!" she exclaimed. I'll give it that....but not much else.  It takes a little more to get my zorbas dancing.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fig Bites

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Maple Water

I would have taken a picture of this product out of the package for you guys, but if you want to know what it looks like, just head on over to your kitchen sink and turn the faucet on. Seriously. You can take that "water" part of the product name pretty literally. It might be ever so slightly thicker than tap water, but certainly not to the point that anyone could pick it up in a photograph. 

So apparently, this beverage is like water that just came straight out of a maple tree. It has lots of minerals and nutrients that were en route to branches and leaves and roots and stuff, but good ol' Trader Joe intercepted it and brought it right to the shelves of his stores for us to enjoy instead.

Taste-wise, it's not unlike water...but maplier. I know, I know, that's not very descriptive. But it's true. Now, if you're thinking of putting a bit of maple syrup in a glass of water to simulate this product, I don't know if that would do it. You'd need very little syrup, and I wanna say that putting any amount of maple syrup in water might result in a sweeter beverage than the one we have before us. It's barely sweet at all. In fact there's really barely any flavor at all. But I'd say there's a faint nuttiness about it. Sonia says it tastes like that Pedialyte stuff they give to kids when they're sick. She thinks the taste is very strange. And I have this crazy notion that just struck me—it kinda tastes like water with a hint of bubble solution in it. You know the slightly soapy liquid you made bubbles out of with a plastic wand with a circle at the end of it as a kid...? It tastes kinda like that—yet not quite as disgusting as that probably sounds.

This is one of those situations where we might actually have a beverage that could theoretically hydrate better than water. That's not my foodie-hack expertise talking. A doctor once told me that water has a tendency to go right through you, but other drinks "have some substance," like electrolytes. And doctors have magic pieces of paper on their walls that make everything they say more correct than the things normal dumb people say. Turns out maple trees and other plants crave electrolytes just like we humans do.

Despite the fact that drinking maple water is a practice that predates the cultivation of maple syrup, Sonia thinks this particular version of the product is nothing but a fad—a flash in the pan food trend that won't last. She prefers coconut water because there's a little more flavor...and it's less...well, watery. $3 is a lot to pay for a quart of water. As a wise person from The Impulsive Buy recently observed, "I read on the internet that maple water is going to be big in 2015. I also read on the internet that maple water is going to disappear in 2016."

Sonia gives this product 2 stars. I give it 3.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter & Jelly with Nonfat Greek Yogurt

Although she never expressed it quite the same way, I think my mother might have had the same irrational fear as Russ. No, not the one about scurvy. The one about being buried alive. Because she was always a big proponent of cremation. I just never thought I'd see that day so soon. Two weeks before Mother's Day and just about a month before her birthday, I attended my mother's memorial service. 

So that's why I've been MIA for the past few weeks—a difficult few weeks for my family and me. Hopefully Russ has kept you informed and entertained in the meantime. At any rate, Mom's moved on to a better place, and the rest of us have to lumber on through this earthly life for a bit. Thank God for the good things, like TJ's food (most of it, anyway). And a special shout out to a couple people that were not only friends to my mom, but have also been fans and boosters of this blog—big thanks to Mrs. Erwin and Mariann M. (Bring a Trader Joe's to Chambersburg, Big Joe!) Just as all things must come to an end, my little break has reached its terminus. It's time to rejoin Russ and get back to reviewing the heck out of TJ's treats.

Today, we're looking at Trader Joe's Peanut Butter and Jelly with Nonfat Greek Yogurt. This sure ain't my mama's PB&J. It's slightly lower in carbs, for one thing (duh, there's no bread). And it's also not very sweet. Sonia claims she didn't taste any jelly. I thought I tasted something strawberry-ish and fruity, but it just wasn't particularly sweet—like not nearly as fructosey as fruit normally tastes when swirled into Greek yogurt. Usually the tartness of the yogurt sets off the fruit flavor and makes it seem extra noticeable, but not here. Peanut butter is definitely present, but it still doesn't overpower the Greek yogurt. I think the tart/sour Greek yogurt taste is the dominant flavor in this product.

I'll be honest, I was hoping for something a little more dessert-like—a tad more treat-esque, if you will. But then, I'm always looking to quell my sweet tooth. It's insatiable.

Texture-wise, Sonia thought it was pretty run-of-the-mill for non-fat Greek yogurt. I felt it was particularly soupy. I stirred and stirred and still had pools of peanut butter-flavored milk with large globs of Greek yogurt floating through it. All in all, this was a slight disappointment to Sonia and I, despite all the Instagram hype to the contrary. What do you guys think? We give this product 3 stars a piece.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Coconut Macaroons

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza

Oh, there's those magical words again: "Thai" and "shrimp." What wonderful, wonderful words, especially when joined together, such as here with Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza. Shrimp is almost certainly my favorite seafood, and Thai food...man. When I first discovered Thai food, with the ranges of flavors from complex spice layers to sweet, coconutty curries, I couldn't eat Chinese food for about a year afterwards, because I found it to be so lacking in comparison. And I love Chinese food. Being a fan of Trader Joe's other frozen wontons and similar items, both Sandy and I couldn't wait to try out these gyoza, a new item for us out here in the 'burgh.

Can't lie: They're disappointing. I wish it weren't the case, but we swear to tell the truth here, and truth is this: They don't taste like anything special at all. Well, the shrimp itself is good, in that typically fresh, not salty or gritty way that TJ's shrimp almost always is, but other than that? There's nothing that sets these apart in any discernible way, shape or form. There's no sweet and no heat at all. It's just a straightforward shrimp dumpling, which to my fairly uneducated 'merican palate doesn't register as "Thai" one bit. There's no complexity or subtlety, no nothing, heck, not even a splash of fish sauce - just shrimp filling "flavored" by some pretty run-of-the-mill spices and wrapped in dough. If anything, I tasted a little garlic.

Granted, they're not horrible, either. There's something to be said for greasy comfort food, which the shrimp gyoza definitely had that sense about them. It's just...we expected more. I really can't think of anything terribly interesting to say here, just because these are pretty mundane munchies.

Sandy and I had them for a weekend lunch after M finally passed out for an afternoon nap, and while these may make their way into our cart once more someday, we're not going to go out of our way to ensure that, either. Maybe we're just spoiled by other TJ's shrimp goodies or our own Thai food experiences that when these prawn-esque potstickers offered a pretty mellow, stripped down approach, the two of us just have to be a little bummed. I don't recall the exact price, but I think it was somewhere in the $3.50 to $4 range, so at least it wasn't a huge setback for a little letdown. Sandy's going to call them a 3, which she sees as a perfectly middle score, while I'm going with 2.5 myself. Middlin' score for a meh meal. Sounds just about right to us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Extraordinary Bark of the Finest Collection

Well, like Nathan said recently, it's Christmas time, so we best be gettin' on to to reviewing all sorts of holiday treats. To me, Christmas season begins with Advent, ends on Epiphany, and interrupts itself whenever I hear the opening chords of "Christmas Shoes" - I just can't help but get mad at that grifting little kiddie conniver, the many faces of Rob Lowe be damned. No matter, to me, this is the time of year that Trader Joe's shines brightest of all, with all those holiday goodies - thanks for putting them in the produce aisle this year, forcing me to walk by them, by the way. Good thing my cohort got to review the gingerbread pancakes first, though - those were a disaster awaiting re-experimentation in our test kitchen here. Taste was okay, occasionally a little too heavy on the ginger as mentioned, but man, with following instructions carefully, they were a runny mess that stuck to our pans, and believe me, we know how to cook pancakes. Meh.

On to Trader Joe's Extraordinary Bark of the Finest Collection. What a goofy, overly honorific, and pretty much unearned name. There's nothing all that special here. Okay, so dark chocolate...I've been getting more and more used to the darker stuff recently (Lindt's 90% bar? Love it!) so the chocolate base layer actually tastes a little too sweet to me. Take that for what it's worth, my scale might be whacked. That's not the problem here.

No, the issue is with all the little stuff added on. And I do mean "little". There's a billion itsy bitsy almond and pretzel shards, which is okay but kinda run-of-the-mill by itself. All the other stuff, like the mini peanut butter cups, and popcorn, and the unlabelled-upfront-but-definitely-there Joe-Joe cookies? Few and far between. There were maybe four or five Reese knockoffs in the entire six serving bar - not good enough. A few more of those, and a couple more bites of cookie, and more than three pieces of popcorn would have been pretty good. Although, I'd personally kick off the Joe-Joes altogether and get more PB cups and popcorn on there, because the barky bites with those, with the little added crunch of the nuts and pretzels, and if the cocoa-drizzle on top were just right - mmm mmm mmm mmmmmm. Those were good, not "too much" on there, and certainly not too little either. The entire package needed to be like that, not just a few choice morsels in an otherwise sparsely chunkified choco-wasteland.

The repeat purchase potential for this extra ordinary (definitely not extraordinary) product depends completely on the level of effort I wish to bring forth to the next office holiday food day - that is, if I wish to bring something more than my usual case of ginger ale but lack desire to much more than plunker down another four bucks. For the first seasonal foray into the world of TJ's Christmassy treats, both Sandy and I were a little disappointed, but in the end not overly, I guess, and I guess we're just gonna have to keep on going back. Got a particular holiday treat we need to get our grubs on? Recommend away!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Extraordinary Bark of the Finest Collection: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Creamy Almond Butter

This probably isn't a surprising revelation, given that this review is now our 575th in our semi-long, somewhat illustrious history, but there are some reviews that I've written that upon further review I wish I could take back. A good recent example? My write-up re: cashew butter a couple months back. I seemed somewhat ambivalent about it at the time, but in the days or weeks that followed, I fell deeper and deeper in love. I'd eat a jar a week, easy, mostly by spreading on apple slices then dipping the knife back in a for extra licks. No one else was eating it, I don't think, so I didn't feel bad. Sure, the first go-around or two from each jar was drippy no matter what (which I dislike strongly) but after that, and a couple days in the fridge, it solidified perfectly. Lots of flavor. Given another chance, I'd be tempted to pantheon that. Too lazy though.

Also, now too knowledgeable: Not paleo.  It has sunflower oil, and the added salt is kinda frowned upon. Doh! I'm still defining how strict I want to be about those kinda things, but I guess if there's an alternative out there that might match those restraints closer, give them a try.

Thus, Trader Joe's Creamy Almond Butter making an appearance in my fridge over the past couple weeks. Ingredients are pretty straightforward here: Just almonds and a small smidge of cashews for whatever reason (less than 1%). No added oil. No added salt. Just nuts, glorious, glorious nuts.

And compared to the cashew butter, it ain't even close. Doh!

First off, no matter how close I get to the bottom of the jar, how much I stir, how long it chills in the fridge - this stuff is a drippy, runny mess. It's ridiculous. Try spreading some on an apple slice without dripping a drop - I bet you can't. I've tried multiple times and cannot. Persistently drippy nut butter annoys me to no end. Who knew almonds were so much more naturally oily than cashews? I sure didn't.

And the taste...well, that implies there is one. Sure, I can taste it if I eat some from a spoon straight, or as it magically transforms surface chemistry as it sticks to the roof off my mouth for ten minutes afterwards. But it just tastes like boring, plain, ordinary, non-jazzy almonds. Almonds are like the cornflower blue tie of the nut world - nothing wrong with them, they're reliable and a classic, but nothing stands out, either. Cashews though...my goodness, aren't they good? Even thinking about walnuts and pecans and hazelnuts accelerate my hungerometer, but almonds? Nope. And any almond taste gets easily overpowered by whatever's being eaten along with it - more than anything else, this butter makes my apples taste like they have funky residue on them.

I've heard the almond butter is one of the most popular TJ's products in terms of annual sales, so maybe I'm completely missing the boat here. Maybe this is a taste I will grow into and enjoy more as my tastebuds reprogram and refine themselves. Don't know though. Maybe me here, lonely on the dock, oar in hand, lifejacket on, will one day figure that out. Have fun without me 'til then.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Almond Butter: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning

It's a little less expensive than I thought to fly from Pittsburgh to Johannesburg, South Africa: starts around $1400, with a couple layovers (in Toronto and Munich), and takes about 24 hours. It's not a trip I'm planning seriously for any time soon (or quite possibly, ever) but if/when I'd ever go, man, someone invite me to a braai, please. Don't know what that is? I didn't until I saw it mentioned on the bag of Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning and looked it up. Basically, it's a South African style cookout/social gathering centered around lots and lots of meat. There's sosatie and boerewors (two new words for me!) along with chicken, seafood, whatever else...that's my kinda thing right there.

Well, apparently these TJ's chips got invited to the party, but to me, the jury's out on whether they really, truly belong or not. There's nothing really wrong with the chips - good, munchy texture, very crispy, almost worth the diet cheat points for that - and, although salty, I like the seasoning mix - lots of different stuff, primarily featuring smoky paprika and garlic - but there's something lost in translation here, I think. In the end, these South African-inspired chippies taste closer to a run-of-the mill straightforward barbeque chip to me, which is kinda boring and not the exotic kick I was looking for.

 I'm wagering this is not the fault of the spice blend itelf, but because it's on a chip, not a big ol'l chunk of carne. There's no real base for the flavor to blast off from. I've been too busy with some other spices and rubs at TJ's, but I *think* I've seen a South African seasoning blend on the shelf there which, if it's anything like this, would be a terrific pickup to rub on some chicken or fish or sausage or anything that can get all juicy on a grill. Instead, here, we're left with these light little dry crisps without much pop or sizzle. I think a little meaty gristle here could go a long, long ways - there's just not enough here for the seasonings to be able to really, fully express themselves. However, if we were to stay in the chip realm, another chip type may fare better - these are dressed up "Ode to Classic Potato Chip" hombres. A ridged or kettle chip would be a firmer base, with perhaps a little more oomph.

I'm not the only one not tooting my vuvuzela about these chips.Sandy's not too much of an ardent enthusiast either. "Ehhh...nothing too special," she stated with a dismissive tune. "I'll eat them but really, they pretty much taste like barbeque chips." Granted, it'd be a pretty darn good BBQ chip, and the price at $2.29 (at least locally) is a perfectly reasonable buy, but we both can't help but be a little bit disappointed here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins

I know, I know...I get it. There's a case to be made that I shouldn't review gluten-free products, seeing as that I have no gluten sensitivities whatsoever, and haven't tried brands and offerings to really fairly stack Trader Joe's offerings against. See my low score for their GF rice mac 'n cheese - I got a lot of flak from the celiac/sympathizer crowd for that. But, the thing is, even for their relatively small amount of product offering, market a lot of gluten free products, most of them for a good price, and somebody has to review them, right?  Why not me? I'm a complete amateur-hack foodie blogger for the best darn TJ's site on the Interwebz, so if I can't, no one can, and perhaps there's only lonely celiac-sufferer out there, wondering to know where they can get something like an English muffin, and doggone it, if this review helps them, it's worth it.

The obvious comparison for Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins is those famous Thomas fellows that all of us grew up on poking apart with our forks, making a mess on the floor much to our dog's delight and mother's chagrin. That's the only other English muffin out there I can rank TJ's against...and it's not close. They're almost completely different, just happening to share the same name, like this poor guy.

First, the TJ ones are much larger than their Thomas counterparts - at least twice, maybe closer to three times larger. That's an absurd size. Second, there's no forksplitting the TJ's, at least not easily - HELLO THAT"S HALF THE FUN GONE RIGHT THERE. There's no nooks and crannies or even crooks and nannies once cut - it's just silly, kinda sad looking bread circle. And for texture, they feel like lovechild offspring from a biscuit and a piece of cornbread - even after toasting, it's a pretty crumbly mess. "Light texture" it says on the bag - riiiight.  I mean, the taste seems about right, but that's about it.

Sandy and I made some breakfast sandwiches one evening for dinner using these, and by halfway through, I kinda regretted it. There was just too much bread and it wasn't that good - I felt like all I was eating was bread and not eggs and sausage too. Even Sandy agreed on that front. She tried one again a day or two later, this time just toasted with some butter and jam, and said it tasted and felt a little better going down, although both she and I rule out the notion of making English muffin pizzas with these - we both doubt the muffin would hold up.

There's one of these left currently, and I'm thinking that chances are good it'll end up as duck food at the local creek this weekend. I've been trying to avoid carbs anyways for the most part, so for me, this is not a worthy indulgence.  Sandy was slightly more in favor of them than I, giving them a three while noting their inherent dryness. I counter with a two. Perhaps for some, this is a viable alternative (if so, leave a comment so we know!), but if there's no need to have a gluten free diet, there's no need to pick up these up.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken

After all that cookie butter ice cream you've no doubt been cramming down since Nathan's last post, you surely think you oughtta go get a salad, right?

I wish I could say the stomach volume displacement value of Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken was at least some variant of equality, but it's not. There's a lot of promise - beans, cheese, tortillas, spicy chicken, all of which are right up my alley - but in actuality, the spork on the front sticker should've been a key tipoff: this is one salad that can't decide what it is or what it wants to be. Kinda like freshman year, I suppose. It's an okay lunch pick-up, but there's too much that's off to make it worth a regular rotation spot.

Let's count the ways. First, the chicken. The word "flavored" in the title should have been another hint that I whiffed on. The chicken is not barbecued, nor is it, technically, BBQ flavored. Instead, the BBQ flavor comes from a mini bucket of some invented product called "BBQ Vinaigrette." Let's be serious here - have any of you ever encountered the existence of such a product before? There's no such item listed for sale on Amazon, which means, to me, it's not real. It's kinda tangy and BBQy but definitely tastes like watered down sauce, but watered down with vinegar. Okay, but not that great. The ranch dressing is only semi-awful and doesn't add a lot. And the beans? Well, they're mixed in with some corn and diced red pepper, which is okay, but instead of being at least somewhat fresh, it's more of the canned variety, with some sort of goop coating them that makes them taste a little pickled, almost. With the two different dressings and the beans etc, that makes for not one, not two, but three (!) little cups inside that take up a lot of space in both the salad container and your friendly local landfill. Seriously, there's got to be a better way.

On the plus side: Lettuce is fresh and crispy, has that "just chopped" feel to it. The MJ cheese seemed particularly good (though perhaps an overstatement - first cheese I've had in a while) and the tortilla chip strips add a good little crunch. If you happen to like the dressings, a little goes a long way - I barely blipped mine in, gave it a good mix, and still had a couple small pools at the bottom. That helps cut down the more unsavory nutritionals too, of course.

Getting back to that point of "not knowing what it is": it's just a weird mix. If it wants to be a BBQ chicken salad, then put in actual BBQ chicken, some greens, some cheese, maybe a pepper or two, and skip the black beans and corn and whatnot. If you want to keep the beans and corn, nix the BBQ and go for a chipotle ranch dressing. Or maybe even better, just skip both dressings, or maybe just skip this salad altogether. Perhaps I'm being harsh after a long, frustrating day, but I'd prefer more tastiness for something that looked like it held enough promise for me to drop a hard-earned $4.49 on it - I could have gotten a buffalo chicken salad from the work cafe for the same price and been much happier. I'll try to be kind, but in the end, best case scenario to me, it has "meh" stamped all over it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's

It's really hard to look at Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's and not remember that old Saturday Night Live commercial for Colon Blow cereal. RIP Phil Hartman, you're one of the great ones. 

I guess this particular TJ cereal can be filed under "the epitome of adult cereals." It's boring. It's bland. There's no cartoon characters or prizes buried. And perhaps worst of all, it's healthy. 

See...I like cereal a lot. Sandy says I like it too much, but usually I can't hear her protests over my munching through a Jethro-sized mixing bowl. It's a replacement vice for too many other bad eating habits I have, like greasy late night/mornings before work drive thru cravings, or all-out fridge foraging. A good bowl of cereal either late at night or first thing in the morning is tough to beat, and if I can find one I like that's undoubtedly healthy, I'm all for it.

Listen: I tried to like these high fiber O's. Really, I did. But after giving them a good honest try and crunching thru the whole box over the past week or so, I can clearly state that these aren't for me. There's many reasons. First, the texture. Don't think these are just light, little crispy Cheerio knockoffs with some extra fiber magically infused, like I somehow thought they were pre-purchase. Nope, they're heavy, dense concrete doughnuts that give your molars a run for it. Seriously, if a mouse were to train for the discus toss for the Mouse Olympics, one of these O's would be a great choice. Even the last few bites are almost as equally crunchy as the first. 

Also, tastewise, they don't offer much. I don't need a cereal to be all super sugary as long as it otherwise tastes good - I love just a bowl of Cheerios and milk, for instance. There's a slight sweetness to these, but it's all swamped by this taste of condensed sawdust that was strangely reminiscent of one of my least favorite TJ products ever. Must be all that fiber. It's not for me.

For a positive note, though, just a regular sized serving of these Fiberios is enough to satiate a rumbly belly all the way to midafternoon, when I take my usual lunch break. And they do pair well with some almond milk, and I suppose a handful of berries would make a good accompanient. Plus, fiber and protein are good for you, and there's plenty, without any of the side effects SNL alluded to. And the fact I ate the whole box in about a week means they can't have tasted that bad as I said they did....hey, me, stop sounding so responsible!

So Sandy didn't get around to trying these, so it's all me. I'll give a voice to my more juvenile and more adult side. Youth before beauty, so youngyin' first: Blahhh. No likey. One spoon, and that's because I'm being nice. Older me: They're not great, but they're not that bad, so suck it up and eat them, your body will be happier for it, and maybe you should start taking care of it. Four spoons. So I'm right down the middle, what's your take? Share in comments below.

 Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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I accidentally threw out the box before snapping pictures. Box front picture borrowed from http://danicasdaily.com/a-new-way-to-get-dirty and nutritional info picture being borrowed from http://jensblogawog.blogspot.com/2013/02/review-trader-joes-organic-high-fiber.html.