Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles

As you may recall, ice cream is a certain kind of currency in our family, good for all kinds of bribery...

Well, what about candy?

Candy is an oddball in our family. There's two main divergent views. The one I employ is, eat it all right away. Candy rarely lasts long around me. It's...kinda a bad thing. I've learned that, by in large, I need to avoid buying it or it will go down the hatch way too quick.

But candy around my wife or daughters? My goodness, explain to me what is wrong with them! They never eat it. Well, that's not exactly true...but almost. Sandy has candy leftover from last Easter that's still in her designated treat box that I am strictly forbidden from touching. Our girls have candy leftover from two Halloweens ago, I swear. We end up routinely tossing it out.

But somehow, if I were to consume it, even if we've had it for six plus months, they'd all know within 14 hours of its sugary demise and I'd be in the doghouse. Personal experience. Been there, done that.

So what's the ultimate fate of Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles?

Not sure. They're pretty decent candies overall. Sandy says they're pretty close to Lindt Truffles overall, which somehow I recognize but am not familiar with their overall quality. Around Easter, I'm more into jellybeans and Reese eggs than anything else. But I guess pretty similar to those aforemntioned Lindt balls, with a milk chocolate shell surrounding a rich, creamy interior. At about the size of a large marble, they go down pretty easily. One or two go a long ways, too.

I'm not completely in love with them. Nothing wrong, per se, but just a preference. But they're just a little basic and plain. With the different foil wrapper colors, it'd be cool if they contained different flavor creams, but nah, all the same. For me, they'll make an adequate occasional sugary treat, so I won't be surprised if I peck at them here or there, but if there's other candy around up for grabs, I'd go for them first.

If Sandy winds up stashing them in her box, though? They'll probably become family heirlooms. "Wait 'til you can savor them," she'll tell our great-grand kids.

Neither of us are big on them. Kinda meh. Kinda basic. Nothing too wrong, nothing too right. Going right down the middle here in all fairness.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar

Wait...what?

Rereads package several times

Well, I'll be...

Alright, listen. I have no idea what the actual name of this product is. It might be Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar. It might be Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Bar With Bits of Crunchy Cinnamon Square Cereal. It also may be Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar With Bits of Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Cereal. That last one is straight from the Department of Redundacy Department...but it is what the packaging of this particular candy bar suggests, isn't it?

I guess, no matter the name, it's clear its from Trader Joe's, its a milk chocolate bar, and it has something to do with crunchy cinnamon square cereal as well. Well, dang it, count me in.

Well, it's a pretty decent candy bar, though not without a flaw we'll get to here in just a minute. Unfortunately Sandy, the kiddos and I kinda devoured the thing before taking a better pic of the actual product, but it's a gridded up choco-bar, easily breakable into 24 pieces. So it's perfect for sharing with all sorts of group sizes. It all looks like a pretty normal Hershey's relative, save for a gritty, dusty undercoating of cinnamon and sugar.

Taste..eh, typical milk chocolate. I prefer dark, mostly, but it's an agreeable enough base. The cereal chocolate bar definitely emphasizes the cinnamon, though - it's heavy. My first reaction was a little of a turnoff - seemed a bit strong, too soon, but by the end of my allocated portion I was just beginning to enjoy the overall flavor. The cinnamony bite is pretty balanced out by the choclate, and it makes for a fun flavor, not too much unlike Mexican hot chocolate.

But there's a problem. I expected there to be cereal here. But...there isn't. The "bits of crunchy cinnamon square cereal" the packaging promised aren't there, at all. At the very least I would have hoped for something like a typical crisped rice/Nestle Crunch kinda deal, with lots of crunchies everywhere, if not big actual cereal chunks. Yeah, nope. The couple little specks of cereal here and there are few and far between and add nary a textural variant. It's kinda disappointing in that regard, so there's some mega point deductions there.

Overall the bar tatstes about right, if you like cinnamon, of course. But it just doesn't feel right. There's just too much untapped potential here. For a couple bucks, the cinnamon cereal chocolate bar with cinnamon but not really cereal made an alright buy, but it's not a purchase I'd seek out to repeat over and over. Meh.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream

Oh ice cream, what would we do without you?

This is a serious question.

Listen, if I want anyone to do anything in my family, bribery is required, with ice cream being the promised booty of choice. Want kids to clean their room and not complain too much? Promise ice cream. Do Sandy and I (okay, mostly Sandy) have a huge pile of laundry to slay? If there's ice cream when we're done, no problem. Need to motivate ourselves for a run or to get other chores or if we need to celebrate a milestone or feel better about a crappy day or sometimes just because? Yup, ice cream on all those counts. Nothing puts a smile on our collective face better than a lil ice cream, especially if we say we're giving an "extra little bit" when scooping.

Yep, we love our ice cream out here...but we don't love Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream.

It's a pretty simple, classic construct. Kinda obviously, it's vanilla ice cream and fudgy little chips, and not much else. When there's such simplicity it can make your shortcomings all the more apparent. Other TJ's vanilla ice cream has taught me how absofreakindelish that plain ol' vanilla can be...this stuff is kinda the other end of the spectrum. It's just kinda amiss all the way around. It's not particularly creamy or flavorful or anything. Instead the ice cream kinda tastes and feels like somewhat chalky, cold dairy-like substance that vaguely tastes like the cardboard carton it comes in. That's not exactly high praise.

But the fudge chips? They're pretty good! Something seemed a little different yet familkiar about them, that I couldn't place until scanning the ingredients...coconut oil! Sandy has made some desserts made mostly from cocoa powder and coconut oil and some other stuff too, I'm sure, that these chips kinda tastelike. Coconut and chocolate almost always go great together, and even though it's pretty subtle here, the chips (of which there are plenty) are fairly choice and help pick up the rest of the dessert.

It goes without saying that our kids love this TJ's ice cream, as they're pretty easy to please with anything sugar related, but Sandy and I? Not huge fans. There's bonus points for being organic and whatnot, but man, if it doesn't feel or taste quite right, it ain't right. If this were our sole means of motioation, we might not get out of bed in the morning. No, wait, that's what we use coffee for...you know what we mean. We'll play nice and give it a five between us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mexican Style Corn & Quinoa Salad

One of the best parts of being in an intercultural marriage is coming to understand and appreciate the other culture just a little deeper than one might have been able to otherwise. I still don't embrace things like feeding dead relatives on Dia de los Muertos—but then, Sonia never did either. But the food? Mexico has some of the greatest culinary traditions on the planet. And in Sonia's own words, "Mexicans don't eat bland food." She's not claiming that every dish has to be scorchingly spicy, but that it should at least boast bold flavor.

We see plenty of ingredients here that one might find in dishes from south of the border: cotija cheese, corn, cilantro, poblanos, jalapeños. But the overall effect? Not particularly flavorful.

The salad was fresh, and there was a good mix of cabbage, quinoa, rice, and corn. They were a bit stingy with the cotija cheese, as we've seen in at least one other TJ's product.

There was a narrow tube of dressing included with the salad. It was thick and green, quite similar in appearance to the Green Goddess we just looked at. It tasted like creamy cilantro, so...if you like cilantro, I guess that's not bad—but for a dressing that supposedly included poblano peppers, jalapeño peppers, green onions, and garlic, it was shockingly tame. Not only was there no detectable heat, but there was very little flavor overall. I understand poblanos aren't super hot, but jalapeños have a bit of kick to them. Onions? Garlic? Not even enough in there to sully your breath before a business meeting—which could be a good thing...you know, if you had a business meeting...

Five bucks for this salad, which allegedly includes four servings. 560 calories and 28 grams of fat in the whole container—significant, considering the subtleness of the flavor. And one more complaint: I found it very difficult to mix the salad around in the container without spilling elements out of the tub in every direction. It's not the end of the world, particularly if you're eating this at home. But on the go? At work? Might be a little inconvenient.

There's plenty of roughage and fresh, quality ingredients in this product. There's nothing particularly wrong with it. This salad's just not tasty enough to call "Mexican Style" or to warrant a repeat purchase. Two and a half stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito

Oh, fast food breakfast sandwiches. They will always be my vice. A few years back, I'd eat two of them a morning a few times a week, and wonder why I was about a hundred pounds overweight. Those days have passed, and I'm in a better place and all, but still...can't quite give up the breakfast sandwich. Fortunately I'm down to usually only one a week now, on Fridays as a treat. Seems reasonable enough a prize for lasting thru a long week up to that point, with a little added something to get me the rest of the way home.

I have my usual go-to spot, but anytime I hear anything new about a breakfast sandwich somewhere, my ears instantly perk. So only naturally, when I heard of the new Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito, I had to give it a try.

Not that TJ's exactly has a sparkling history of mornin' wraps. I'm with Nathan on those - gross and nondescript. The burritos, I mean, and not Nathan. He's a pretty good guy.

As with most things, there's plusses and minuses here. First, it's in the refrigerator section, and not frozen. This means there's a definite fresher quality to the whole shebang that plays out through things like tortilla and egg texture, and there's no chance of any frozen little chunks here or there which torpedo any decent shot at breakfast. Indeed, everything's pretty on point in that regard. To heat, there's both oven and microwave options, which Sandy and I tried both - the oven, unsurprisingly, is the superior option by far, with the tortilla getting nice and crackery-cripsy, as opposed to soft and flaky and crumbly and kinda limp. Of course, you might not always have half an hour to heat a breakfast burrito, and if you did, you could probably easily make a better one yourself, so there's that.

Each element is good and solid in its own right - tortilla is representative, the eggs of decent quality, the cheese present but lacking much distinction, and the chicken sausage and potatoes holding up their end of the deal. Problem is, there's kinda an overall lack of flavor. Nothing is good enough to really stand out on its own, and there's not even enough spice added to really do too much. Granted, this just means you could easily doctor with your favorite salsa or hot sauce or whatever else you wanted, if you wanted to. I kinda just wish there was something more to it - more sharpness to the cheddar, or more savoriness from the sausage, or a little peppery kick, or something - but nope.

Then there's the price. It's $3.99 for the burrito. That doesn't strike me as great bargain for something I have to heat myself and probably add more stuff to. Heck, my go-to breakfast sandwich of choice costs less and I can pile high with veggies and customize to my heart's content. Man, I love touchscreen menus...

Overall, the sausage breakfast wrap is a good, not great, bite. It fills a void and uses up a lot of your discretionary nutritional values for the day. Sandy and I shared a burrito both times we had it for breakfast, and with some fruit and coffee it was more than adequate to hold us over til lunch. But I struggle to see the point of its existence - it's not often I'd find going to TJ's more convenient than a drive-thru or convenience store for a bite. Plus, I've learned through too many embarrassing shirt stains that burritos are absolutely not meant to be consumed on the go, which this seems tailored to...just odd. Maybe I'm completely whiffing on something here. Can't seem to muster more than a halfhearted three for it, while Sandy goes in a little higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip

So this weekend is the Super Bowl!

Whoop-de-doo.

A couple years ago, I could plop down, turn any old football game (much less the biggest one of the year) and be reasonably entertained. These days? Not so much. Not exactly sure why, but pigskin doesn't have the same appeal to me in the past few seasons. I didn't even watch the Super Bowl, opting for a date out with my wife including going to emptiest Cheesecake Factory ever. I've watched maybe five games over the past three seasons. My guess is, watching a bunch of big guys in tights run around, fight over a ball, smack each other senseless with concussions, only for every play to be dissected in slo-mo for ten agonizing minutes on "instant replay" with continued live look-ins to whatever funny grimace the head coach is making just doesn't hold the same appeal to me, and for my small amount of attention I can give the sports world, I choose to devote it to baseball.

It's kinda the same for Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip. I'm not sure how this blog has been around for like eight years and we've never mentioned this product...but it's true. If the TJ queso would have come up in review rotation years back, I'd probably LOVE this stuff. I mean, it's semi-spicy-salsafied cheese, how can it go wrong?

Well, for whatever reason, it just doesn't cut it for me any more. Sandy and I picked up the diminutive jar for a recent taco night in the name of trying something different. Shoulda sticked to the classics. The cheese is kinda runny and gloppy and absolutely needs to be warmed to be palatable. I tried some cold just now to revisit the taste - cold, clammy, and kinda booger-y. Not recommended.

It's apparently some sort of cheese blend that's primarily cheddar according to the ingredient label. I will grant that it's better quality nacho cheese than the stadium standard yellow sauce. But not by all that much. There's still a fake, salty taste to it. The spices and peppers do convey a little warm heat, but is generally inoffensive. If anything, it tastes a little more towards pickled and vinegar than actual heat. Overall, it's just not an impressive product.

Anyways, if you need a dip for the game, go for it. You could do worse, I'm sure. But I'll be looking for something else, as I am planning on watching at least some this weekend. I grew up an Eagles fan and am watching more out of obligation than anything, even though I can't tell you in 100% certainty if Doug Pederson is the head coach or quarterback after that Wentz guy got some sort of big ouchie. Won't have too much feeling about the outcome either way, I'm sure. Kinda the same for the TJ queso dip - mehs abound.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit

This probably doesn't come as any sort of huge surprise or shocker, but...salad, in general, doesn't really excite me.

Most veggies are perfectly fine. I can eat broccoli, Brussel sprouts, squash, etc all day long. At the continued shock of my coworkers, I'll happily eat plain raw spinach at my desk. Aside from beets, off the top of my head, there's not a single vegetable I can think of that I don't like...still, salad leaves me ambivalent at best.

Maybe it's mixing up veggies. Maybe it's my usual distaste for many salad dressings. Or maybe it's just kinda the boring hum-drum that I find most salads to be, especially of the pre-packaged variety.

All that to say, I was kinda excited to try out Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit. Don't let the name fool you - slaw? Psshhh. It's salad all chopped up in shreds.

I wish I didn't get my hopes up so high.

There's nothing inherently wrong with the slaw kit. But there's nothing overly right, either. It's the same usual base blend of carrots, broccoli stalks, cabbage and kale in roughly equal proportion to one another. That part is good, but formulaic enough now for TJ's kits that it's not exactly meant as a heap of praise either. It's just kinda a given at this point. Fresh, crisp, crunchy, all that excellent stuff...

...but moving on to what should be the exciting stuff, right? The extras and mix-ins! This is where salads make or break it. First up: dried apricot tidbits! Always a fun add...if there were enough to go around. Not this time. We got only a small spoonful which is hard to split up in multiple meaningful portions. A small nice touch, as were the pepitas, for a little crunch and all, but again nothing too remarkable.

And the dressing? Ugh. "Tahini orange" it says. So sesame, with a citrus flair, so it could work, but there's also this vinegar-y presence that kinda muffs it all up. Much like my three year old when choosing between dinosaurs or trucks for her night-night pull-up, it's just so indecisive and kinda frustrating. Like, it should be good, but instead just gets in its own way. Sandy said it kinda tastes like nothing. I disagree - it tastes like something, just I have no idea what it should be. And instead of tying up the whole salad as a nice cohesive dish, it kinda makes the salad a turnoff.

Oh well. It's not a terrible price at $3, and I appreciate the ampersand in the title for what it's worth. They seem to be disappearing from TJ product names, as are the different Joes from around the world. Times are a-changin' I guess. But my general ambivalence towards salads is not. Both Sandy and I give it a pretty middlin' score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic White Truffle Potato Chips

Certain yummy things come from the ground. Potatoes, for example. 

I'd add chickpeas, lentils, and beans to that list, among other things. I can go either way on things like radishes, beets, and jicama. But in my book, once something has been in the dirt for a long enough time, it necessarily falls under the category of "things to burn," rather than "things to eat." Case in point: oil, coal, propane, natural gas—all of which are proving useful as sources of heat during this gnarly polar vortex we've got going over most of the country. You burn them. Nobody in his right mind tries to eat them.

I'd like to add truffles to that list. Fungi that have been in the dirt for 5-8 years have long since graduated from the "you should eat this" league, and are now well on their way to becoming fossil fuels for future generations to incinerate. Let's just go ahead and leave them in the ground for now.

Because they taste like dirt. They're bitter, chalky, and...I mean, some might use the term "earthy," but I think that word is simply too kind for this "gourmet" subterranean fungus.

Just the smell from the bag was too much for me. I'm not really even sure why. "Organic white truffle" is very low on the ingredients list, but there's nothing else on there that I dislike at all. Tapioca maltodextrin might be a little odd for potato chips, but I'm down with tapioca stuff. I like oil. I like salt. I like potatoes. The look, feel, and texture of the chips was just fine. If you lacked olfactory and gustatory senses, you'd never be able to differentiate these chips from run-of-the-mill salted potato chips. But for me, that truffley taste just overpowered everything else, and I could scarcely stomach two of the chips. 

I'd also like to point out that I'm in the minority here, apparently. The lovely Sonia enjoyed these soil-flavored chips, oddly enough. And our western PA blogging counterparts appreciated the Truffle Mac and Cheese exactly one year ago this week. I guess you can chalk it up to my lifelong aversion to fungi. I don't even really like mushrooms.

I, for one, hope to never eat another truffle-containing product for as long as I live. You can call me unsophisticated, but you can't call me unadventurous. Sonia and I consumed and enjoyed both alligator meat and python meat for the first time this New Year's Eve at a fancy hot dog place in Philly. Even those guys serve potato chips sans truffles. They know what's up.

I give these chips one and a half stars. I would have gone with zero, but their texture and appearance was just fine. It's the flavor I can't handle. Sonia will go with four. She thinks the flavor is "interesting," and she likes that the chips aren't as oily as other varieties.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing

As any TJ's fan worth their Hawaiian shirt knows by now, cauliflower can do a lot of stuff. The real question is, can cauliflower do stuffing?

Well, guess we're gonna find out with Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing.

There's a lot to like about the concept here. Gluten free, vegan, no carbs for all you cave people out there. That's not an insult, I dabble with the Paleo diet here and there. But, when November rolls around, with Thanksgiving on the horizon, there's something to be said for good ol' traditional stuffing, whatever that means to you and your memories.

And there's something just a little amiss here with the TJ's cauli-stuffin'. It's hard to pin down completely what it is, but both Sandy and I noticed it.

Our best guess is, the stuff doesn't taste or feel like stuffing. It's...almost more like a pilaf. The cauliflower rice never loses its inherent ricey-ness and feels grainy, not soft and warm and inviting like stuffing. That being said, there's a lot to like. The product really tries hard to replicate traditional stuffing tastewise, and it almost pulls it off. The carrots, celery, and onion are on point, and there's copious handfuls of tart dried cranberries that make an excellent little touch - better than raisins or apples.

Still, it's off...and again I point to the cauliflower. Perhaps cauliflower has a "cleaner" taste than most bread, so all the flavors that are normally somewhat tempered poke through just a wee bit more. That seemed most noticeable with the onions. Also, look at the ingredient list and some unusual suspects. Tomato paste? Maple syrup? Never seen those in a stuffing recipe before. And they're not particularly noticeable, per se, but maybe they knock the flavor just off kilter enough.

This stuffing's decent enough, though. If you want an alternative to the usual salty carb bomb that is traditional stuffing, by all means, go for it. No denying it's healthier and more nutritious and all that - I mean, it's all veggies - and it's almost as good as the "real deal." But there's too much comfort vibe missing here. I think that's what it comes down to. It's only a few bucks in the freezer section, if you're lucky enough to find it - been a hot seller from what I hear - so I'd love to hear some more takes if you've tried it. But for me and Sandy, we just can't muster much enthusiasm.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Curried Carrot & Cashew Dip

I think the pumpkin craze may have finally reached its apex and is starting to experience a bit of backlash. Can't put up a pumpkin review these days without at least one person remarking "I'm so sick of pumpkin!" With pumpkin spice hummus, pumpkin flavored dog treats, and even pumpkin spice cough drops on the market, it's pretty clear society has reached a saturation point. Even Trader Joe's seems to have slowed down the release of new pumpkin products this year. There are definitely a few additions, but on our last TJ's run, all we saw were the same sixty items that were available last year. So we'll just take a breather...for today, anyway.

So we turn our sights to another unique orange concoction: Trader Joe's Curried Carrot & Cashew Dip

It's NOT what I expected.

Our last adventure involving a tub of Trader Joe's curried veggies was surprisingly successful in my book, as have most of our other forays into the Indian-inspired land of curry-laden culinary creations. This one...I, personally, am not nearly as enthused about.

There aren't any suggestions for how to serve this condiment. It's packaged in one of those distinctive, clear, round hummus containers. Are we to smear it on a piece of warm pita? Is it a chip dip? Or is it a marinade for meats on the grill? 

We tried it as a chip dip. Interesting. But I wouldn't go out of my way to buy it again for that purpose. On bread? Okay, I can see it taking the place of hummus, but I'll take most hummus over this dip any day. Served with veggies, riced cauliflower, and chicken? Better still. But again nothing I'd crave over a "normal" condiment. 

I was expecting the curry flavor to dominate this product, but it certainly doesn't. In fact, carrot is the primary flavor coming through. It's essentially a tub of creamed carrots, with a few miscellaneous spices and vague cashew flavor throughout...not sweet. Certainly not what I was hoping for. I swear there's a strange, funky, almost mildewy essence in our tub. Sonia doesn't detect it at all.

To make matters worse, there was a single white glob of....something in our container. At first, we thought it might have been a cashew. But it wasn't. It was fairly firm, somewhat powdery, and...not at all like anything else anywhere in the tub. Sonia suggested it might be a ball of corn starch, as corn starch does indeed appear on the ingredients list. She seemed perfectly fine with that notion and proceeded to eat around the object in question. I began referring to it as "the tumor" and like any good amateur scientist decided to dissect it. Its middle looked like something in between white meat chicken and the inside of a nut of some kind, though much too large to be a single cashew. You can see it in two halves there toward the right side of the product photograph. 

I dared Sonia to eat a piece of the mystery blob—which, shockingly, she did with remarkably little coaxing. She just popped it in her mouth, shrugged, and said "it's fine."

I couldn't let her be a braver eater than I am, so I hesitantly cut a little bit with my fork and tasted it. It felt like a curd of cottage cheese and tasted completely flavorless. I still don't know what that thing was, but it grosses me out just thinking about it.

Unfazed by the incident, Sonia continued dipping various foods into the little tub and mixing it into her food. She said, "I enjoy it. What do you think?"

"I'm not feeling it," I muttered, backing away from the table.

I might have mustered two stars if not for that...wad of...stuff. One and a half stars from me. I haven't disagreed with the wife this strongly on a TJ's product in a long time. Four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Premium Peanut Butter Roundels

So...what's a roundel?

Sounds like a singular member of a 1960's Motown group, or a really balloony shaped letter of the alphabet. If you would have asked me what a roundel was a few days go, I would have said one of those, or pulled some equally dumb joke out of nether regions. I'm a dad, it's what I do.

But as it turns out...a roundel is a "small disk, especially a decorative medallion." Or a circular disc used as a symbol. Says Wikipedia: "The term is used in heraldry, but also commonly used to refer to a type of national insignia used on military aircraft, generally circular in shape and usually comprising concentric rings of different colours." So like all those bull's eye type deals on old airplanes, or to my suburban-acclimated mind, the Target symbol. 

Hrm. Didn't know that 'til now. That makes Trader Joe's Premium Peanut Butter Roundels food for both body and mind.

You don't see TJ's throw the word "premium" around too often. So, that along with the nearly irresistible combo of chocolate and peanut butter made this an intriguing buy. Unfortunately, there's something here that seems a little lacking if not even a little disappointing in some ways. 

Seems to be the chocolate. 

Forgot to take a pic of the actual product (lo siento, amigos), but the roundels look much like the package pic - main coat of dark chocolate with some milk chocolate striped on top. It looks fancy, but really, it's kinda bland and waxy. This isn't the usual TJ quality dark chocolate here, it's noticeably different. The package even confirmed it's different by it's cacao content - only 49% versus the usual 60s octane blend. Even with a decently thick coat, in all honesty, to me, it doesn't taste like much, and that's disappointing.

So naturally, the main flavor is the peanut butter portion. It's good, not great - a little roasty and earthy, but a lot of added sugar. I mean, it's better than the usual Reese Cup fare...but not over-the-top delicious, and it doesn't quite have the "comfort vibe" of a good pb to me. I'd prefer a little roastier, maybe a touch saltier, and not as sweet. It's possible that with a better chocolate coat the peanut butter would stand out a little better or differently, but as is, it's certainly not unpleasant but it's far from transcendent.

The description on the box is pretty apt of the roundel being a "patty." There's no cookie or cakey kinda base. It's a pbv cup in a different form. That's something else that could have improved it - something a little crunchy in there, maybe a few actual peanuts. 

And be forewarned - these get super melty very easily. Use caution when giving to kids. Had to hose off both my girls afterwards. 

So what do these roundels signify? A decent enough treat for the $4 or so from TJ's. Not earth shattering. I'd be somewhat surprised if we get them again - good, but not great. At least I got to add to my vocab while I was at it. Matching threes. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Premium Peanut Butter Roundels: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Marble Mousse Bar

Ah, the first day of fall is finally here. Sure doesn't feel like it yet, though. It'll be nearly 90 degrees here in New Jersey for the next few days. I'm eagerly awaiting temperatures cool enough to wipe out the local mosquito population—or at least temperatures cool enough that I can spend some time outside with long pants and long sleeves on so the little jerks can't bite me as readily. You should see my legs. It looks like I have some bizarre skin disease...but I'll stop right there since this is a food review blog and talk of skin disease and mosquito bites isn't particularly appetizing.

Know what is appetizing? Pumpkin pandemonium at Trader Joe's. We can just stay inside, crank the AC, eat fall foods, and pretend it feels cool outside. Fun stuff.

Pumpkin cheesecake over a fudgy brownie base? Yes, please! Looks delicious!

Except once you bite into it...it's not terrible...but really? That's cheesecake? I tried just the top part of the product by itself—the "mousse" section. It's nothing like cheesecake in my humble opinion. It tastes and feels like pumpkin pie filling. And that, of course, isn't a bad thing in and of itself. But I was promised cheesecake. Also, the fudgy brownie part isn't very fudgy. It's just...there.

There's a vague chocolatiness to the brownie base and an even more vague pumpkinniness to the crown, but overall, it's not particularly pumpkin-spicy or creamy or chocolatey. It's just an orange and brown dessert that, again, isn't terrible. It's just not terribly good or unique, either. The product's name makes it sound super gourmet, but the taste and texture just don't quite live up to our expectations—especially in light of the $6 price tag.

On the plus side, the presentation is stellar. These would look great on the dessert table at a fall party or something. The bars are very simple to prepare: just thaw, cut, and serve. And as Sonia pointed out, all of the constituent parts are quite moist and soft.

We'll easily be able to finish these bars over the course of the next few days, but if you're excited about Trader Joe's pumpkin products, this is not the first six bucks you should spend there.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Protein Granola

Granola. For dinner. Ummm...yum?

We have a busted refrigerator to blame for that. Or, I hope to say, had. Something something was something somethinging the something (or so I understand, as explained by the Sears repair guy and filtered thru my wife) making the bottom of our fridge leaky and pooling water. Been doing it for months, actually, and just got it fixed earlier today...but at time of writing this, we're now on the evening of Day 2 with an unplugged icebox in the kitchen. Been eating down whatever supplies from the fridge all week. Can't restock quite yet. No spare fridge on site. Thought we'd be able to use it by tonight, and already kinda spent our eating out budget at Red Lobster last night...

...so granola for at least part of our dinner. It's what we had. Living the dream.

Granted, evening sustenance and main course is probably not the intended use of Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Protein Granola. As with most granola, it's definitely one of those snack-on-the-go type deals, or an easy morning breakfast with a little yogurt or something. Also never a horrible idea to have a bag tucked away in the desk drawer at work for midday munchie.

But, I'm not convinced this pb granola is all that great. It's not really horrible, either, but there's something a little off about it after a few bites. Tough to explain, but it gets that taste in your mouth, you know, the one that resides in the little pouch between your teeth and cheeks. Bitterswee-tish, almost metallic in some ways. You know that one? It's what I get.

Which is a shame, because this stuff has some potential. The granola comes in all different sized chunks with an appropriate crunch - hard enough to give the molars some work to do, crumbly enough to not make it unpleasant and tastes reasonably like a decent peanut-based product. The rolled oats and pea protein crisps get along nicely with each other for an agreeable bite, if not a bit bland. Seems head scratching to me that there's eight grams of added sugar per serving...how would the granola taste if not over 10% bonus sugar content? Doesn't compute. The texture is spot on, but the flavor just doesn't

Probably not a repeat buy. Even as a peanut butter aficionado and a general granola fan, there's just not enough here to make me want to come back. It fills a void and that seems to be about it. Sandy's not impressed either. "Meh" is about all we said about it. Might be more enjoyable with some cold milk...we'll get back to you on that.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Protein Granola: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread

September! Back to school time...or for Sandy and me, time to get our firstborn daughter, M, off to kindergarten. Time flies...seems like just yesterday I wrote this.

M impresses me. She does, for real. Like when we took her grocery shopping for lunch supplies for school. We got a big packet of info for the upcoming school year, discussing all the different school rules and policies. Understandably, there was some space spent on peanuts and nuts, etc. The school rule is, for lunch, things like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are allowed to be brought in...but those who are allergic to peanut butter and can't be near it have to sit at a different table than everyone else. It's probably not a perfect solution, but it's what the school can do to keep everyone appeased.

Anyways, we kind of explained of this to M as best we could. Now this girl has no food allergies and loves peanut butter and jelly. Loves it enough to rival mac 'n cheese. So there we were, at Trader Joe's, near the PB shelf and presented M with a choice: Get peanut butter like she'd be allowed to get, and only sit with some certain kids...or try Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread and be able to sit and make friends with anyone at lunch time.

She chose the sunflower seed spread.

Granted, it's not awful. But I'm a PB guy, through and through. This particular seed butter is medium-thick, oily, kinda goopy, decidedly salty, and unmistakenably made from sunflower seeds which I like, but not nearly as much as the earthy goodness of a good ol' peanut. If it seems similar to other TJ's products, you'd be mostly right. Big difference is lack of added sugar as this spread is composed of just seeds and salt. It's more functional than snackable, I guess.

M feels the same. Those eyerolls she tosses out right now when we ask what she considers a dumb question - man, those upcoming teenage years oughtta be a hoot. I got one for the ages when I asked her if she likes peanut butter or sunflower seed butter better. "Peanut butter" she muttered with as much implied "Duhhhh" in her tone as she could muster.

Still, M chooses it every time for her sandwich, simply because this little girl wants to be friends with everyone. She wants to be able to sit down and happily chomp away at her lunch with any set of kids and be able to talk about what happened on the playground or favorite colors or bugs or farts or whatever kids talk about at cafeteria tables. She's willing to meet other kids where they are, and sacrifice some of her preferences and entitlement to do so. She's willing to see that even though some other kids are different than her, they're not wrong or bad or to be avoided. They're all just some kindergartners wanting to enjoy lunch together.

Maybe I'm being particularly sappy and sentimental with her going off to school...but dammit, that's kinda beautiful to me. Maybe we'd all be better off if we could all see the world the way she does when choosing her lunch. I know I'd be. 

When I asked for her opinion of the seed spread, M just gave me a sideways thumb and a scrunchy faced grimace. I think that's actually a slight compliment...so there's that. I feel strangely the same, actually. But I'm glad to slap some on bread with some blueberry jam for her any time she wants for lunch, so she can enjoy with anyone she wants.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks

So many varieties of cookies in the world, isn't there? there's hundred if not thousands. In Pittsburgh, it's traditional to have a "cookie table" at a wedding where it's veritable cookie buffet...which to me is usually the highlight of the show. Can't even tell you what my favorite cookie is, because there's just too many to choose from...

...but then there's the classic chocolate chip. It's all American and apparently a much more recent innovation that I had thought. Still, there's that timeless taste and feel, that though it may not be the absolute tastiest cookie in the world, it's one I'll go back to over and over again. The brown sugary batter, with semisweet chocolate chips, preferably fresh out of the oven, or least still a little soft and hopefully not too crunchy siding a little bit towards melty....mmmm.

I'm not one to think that such a recipe needs to be doctored up with too many add-ins like nuts, oatmeal, or, in the case of Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks, a bunch of sodium. Other salty baked goods from TJ's have been darn near overkill. Still, I had to wonder how TJ's would pull these off.

I think they forgot the salt.

From previous experience, I was expecting big crunchy sea salt crystals in these cookies. Though not visible on the outside, there was the possibility they were baked in. Na. No crunchy salt pockets anywhere. To me, this is kinda a plus, but if it's what you were expecting, you may be disappointed. Or we may have gotten a bum batch. Or something.

The rest of the cookie confection is okay at best. It's a decent chocolate chip cookie-type deal - still soft and a little chewy, not all crunchy like a biscotti - but it also tastes a little off somehow. Like there's an extra bittersweet essence in the midpart of the bite. Maybe this is where the salty part sneaks in, where it heightens the contrast of brown sugar and butter against the semisweet chocolate. It doesn't taste wrong, per se, but a little off perhaps.

Also, going back to the texture...I'm not a big cookie dunker by habit, so this is untested personally, but seems like the cookie stick would probably crumble and break apart if submerged in coffee or milk or whatever. Thing is, the cookies even remain that way - we've had the package about a week, and they haven't dried out. Which is a plus to me.

Then again, that a package of chocolate chunkers have lasted that long around here says to me that maybe we don't think they taste all that great.

Meh. Lots of cookies in the world, they can't all be slam dunk winners. C'est la vie. Even our kids were noncommittal about them, favoring chocolate bananas for their dessert of choice recently. Meh all the way around. Both Sandy and I are around a 2.5 to 3 for them, so let's go with one each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sriracha Seafood Potstickers

Trader Joe's 50th anniversary? A rare total eclipse of the sun over the USA? How spectacular on both counts!

Unfortunately, I picked a relatively lame product to review right after the monumental events of the last few days. How anticlimactic.

Sriracha? Seafood? Asian dumplingy things? Doesn't sound too shabby to me. What's not to like? Hmm. Well...

First of all, I thought this was a new product. It's not. It's been around for a while, though it looks like it may have recently been an unwitting participant in one of TJ's infamous repackaging schemes. Apparently, it used to be green and red? I don't know if I have those facts straight, but I have a sinking feeling that someone will correct me in the comments section if they've got better intel than I do.

Anyhoo, I think I heard one of you ask, "What's not to like about this delicious, exotic appetizer, Nathan?" Well, first off, the texture...but before I go on a little rant, let's cover the positives—er, at least the less negative aspects of the product first.

How about we start with the sriracha? I actually think it tastes vaguely like sriracha and does indeed have a little kick. It's not a big kick. And both Sonia and I are always hankerin' for bigger kicks in these foods that are supposed to be spicy. But the spice-level I can live with here. I could certainly stand it stronger, but I personally didn't find a lack of sriracha to be one of the biggest weaknesses in this product.

Likewise, there were little chunks of shrimp that I would have loved a lot more of. They didn't taste bad and their texture was probably the most enjoyable element of the appetizer.

But the texture of the crab combined with that of the wrappers? Weird. It was just a slimy mush. I heated the potstickers via the stove top method detailed on the packaging. I think it was that final steaming step that threw them off. Or maybe I added too much water. At any rate, I drained the water and then fried the remaining pieces in a little more oil. This made them significantly more solid and somewhat more enjoyable, but there was still a gelatinous element to the whole thing that was a little off-putting to me.

I mentioned before that the shrimp wasn't bad and the sriracha wasn't bad, and I'll stand by those assertions. I guess the flavors that didn't really do it for me were those of the crab and the carrot/red pepper wrappers. It really didn't taste like crab to me. Overall, it was a weird flavor—vaguely spicy and vaguely seafoody, but in general, it didn't work. Both Sonia and I feel like onions, shallots, celery and/or actual carrot bits might have served this product well—any kind of actual veggies would have been welcome.

$3.99 for twelve potstickers. Not super cheap, but not the worst value in the world if you're one of the people who happen to like them. In the end, it's not a complete disaster of a product, but neither of us can recommend it very highly.

Sonia: 3 stars

Nathan: 2.5 stars

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley

Seeds and beans...beans and seeds...I love me some beans and seeeeeeeeds.....

No? Don't know that tune? Good, means you didn't hear it bouncing around in my head.

Thank you for not being in my head. It's a scary enough place without you there, too.

Actually, it's just my lame attempt at making a tune for Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley. Other products lend themselves to song parody much more easily. There's not much to really sing about here.

And not that much to really say, either. These kinda snacks must have their own little niche market, with a devoted following, because it seems like every couple months some sort of new dried veggie-type concoction comes up and on shelves and then just as suddenly disappear. Some are hits, others....not.

This one falls somewhere in the middle. Really, the highlight here is neither the seeds nor the beans...it's the corn. Those big, crunchy kernels are reminiscent of other snacks, and are pretty popcornesque sans any trace of fluffiness. I like them, and the flavor of them blend nicely in with the assorted pepitas and fava beans and other stuff that seem more or less  indistinguishable if you're not looking at them.

The major drawback? Again, neither bean nor seed...but the peas. Silly legumes. Really, they're the morsels that stick out the most - there's an almost earthy sweetness to them that kinda stands out unevenly from the rest of the crowd. Not awful...but not exactly terrific either. I jusr didn't like them.

The oily crunchy saltiness is the overarching flavor, as would be expected. But a little something else to them would have been appreciated - maybe a little ranch or something a little spicy - but na, just salt. And why isn't this labelled as gluten-free? Cross-contamination concerns that bad at the factory? Jeez.

Our fam was split on the snack bag o' beans and peas. Sandy and our oldest daughter thoroughly enjoyed the mix, while our youngest and I kinda took a bite or two before dismissing it. Meh. Not my thing, but could be yours. And at only like $2 or $3 for the bag, it can be...for practically a song.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes

"Open your mind...harmonious convergence...Transcend the ordinary..."

From a breakfast cereal? Seriously?

That's what the back of the box says about Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes. I get the punny Hendrix connection and motif, and there's always been a hippie/hipster vibe to TJ's (at least in ym area), so it kinda works, but still. A breakfast cereal. It's corn flakes. I can understand folks looking for a transcendental expereice in a bowlfull of something or another, but...cereal? Well, alright...I guess.

The obvious draw, Woodstock-era connotations aside, is the fact that these are purple corn flakes. Oooooh, pretty, right? My kids like purple, maybe they'll eat them. Organic is, as always, a plus. That "harmonious convergence" the box speaks of is between purple maize and brown rice flours, additionally making this cereal gluten free. All well and good. Kinda groovy. Cereal for the people, man.

As with anything, there's plusses and minuses. Let's start positive. These flakes are seriously crispy. I'd even say almost downright crunchy to the last spoonful. Seems to be due to the basic flake construct being a little thicker than most typical flakes I've had, which easily get limp and soggy quickly. Not here. And there's nothing too funky about the taste - the fact that it's purple has no bearing, and corn and rice usually work well together, except....

Salt. The corn flakes are downright palpably salty. It's enough that if TJ's were to market these as tortilla chip cereal, I would think it appropriate. I kinda want to dump some salsa on the cereal to give it a try. it just might work. Granted, the saltiness does kinda dissipate once milk is poured on and a little sugar added, but still...there's no reason to get 1/7th of my daily sodium in one cup of breakfast cereal.

And no, the flakes won't turn your milk purple either. I'm alternately gracious and disappointed.

Overall, though, it's a decent enough cereal. Both my kiddos liked it enough to have multiple bowls, while both Sandy and I snacked on a few extra handfuls. I don't do cereal often, and neither does Sandy, so this is definitely on the fence as a repeat purchase. Not that there's anything too horrendously wrong, but once our girls' fasconation with purple cereal goes away, it'd take forever to get through a box. Not terrible, not awesome, and certainly not transcendental. Maybe the purple maize isn't all in my brain. Good.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons