Trader Joe's Cashew Apricot Date & Nut Bites with Coconut & Citrus

Oh goodness. Vacation. All. That. Food. And junk. Lots and lots of junk food.

Please tell me it's not just us.

In our regular day-to-day lives, Sandy and I try to reasonably limit our unhealthyish indulgences to maybe a small portion a day. But on our recent vacation - game on. Chips, candies, cookies, pie, cheese curls, whatever else - oh yes. All that. And ice cream. Oh goodness. If you're ever in the area of Penn Yan, NY, you gotta go to The Spotted Duck. We went there regrettably only twice, including our last official trip stop, and I'd easily consider making the 10 hour round trip just to go there again, it's that awesome.

All this to say, I still got a case of the snackies now that I'm home, but I need something healthy to counterblanace all that...so it was great time to discover Trader Joe's Cashew Apricot Date & Nut Bites with Coconut & Citrus.

You could tell me these bites were a Larabar test product and I'd believe you. There's that very similar vibe, with soft chewy dates making up the body of the bar with nuts densely interspersed. I've grown to enjoy that kinda texture from most Larabars, and it's much the same here. Cashews are a great nutty choice - so much better than either peanuts or almonds IMHO - and I like how the dried apricot adds fruity flair and natural sweetness. The zested citrus peel adds a bright, somewhat unexpected finish - a real nice touch that sets these apri-nut bites apart.

Haven't mentioned the coconut yet. That's because while I'm not opposed to its presence, if I had to choose one ingredient to axe, that'd be it. There's so much else going on, the coconut just isn't terribly necessary, and the fibery specks do mess the texture up a small bit. Not awfully much, but enough to make note.

And another small note: the packaging. The outer bag isn't the problem. It's what's inside. Each bite is individually wrapped in a sealed plastic wrapper that's almost big enough for two bites. That's just unnecessary. I get that TJ's wouldn't want the date bites to stick together, but there's goota be a better solution than that.

So aside from a few small quibbles, we like them a bit. I'd consider them Paleo friendly as the only questionable ingredient is rice flour on the dried fruit...meh. Any way I look at it, the date and nut bites are a healthier bet than the half pound of Sour Patch watermelon chewies I gobbled on vacation. Or the quarter of a grape pie. Or the numerous scoops of ice cream. Or the...you get the point. Check 'em out for $3.99 for the sack. Yums.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cashew Apricot Date & Nut Bites with Coconut & Citrus: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pineapple Mango with Natural Mint Flavor Agua Fresca

We've come across obscene amounts of mango products from TJ's over the years, including a beverage or two. We've been braving mango drinks and reviewing them here since 2010. The flavor of this one isn't such a far cry from other authentic mango juices, although this one's much thinner than anything that might be called "nectar," or really even anything called "juice." It's cool, fresh, flavored water.

You really could replicate the flavor of this stuff by taking ordinary mango nectar, adding water, a dash of pineapple juice, and simply brushing your teeth before taking a swig. Same effect. Okay, not really. The mint here tastes slightly more pleasant than Colgate, although it seems a bit out of place somehow. It sounded good when I read it on the label, but in actual practice, I'm not a huge fan.

Sonia grew up with aguas frescas in her native sunny Southern California. Some of her favorites included tamarind, cantaloupe, and watermelon. According to her, even drinks like horchata are technically a type of agua fresca...and I looove me some horchata. 

Russ and Sandy checked out the flower-flavored variety a week or two ago. I tried a similar hibiscus beverage when I lived in L.A. and I wasn't a fan of the taste—but hey, each to his own. I thought I'd fare better with a fruity flavor, but the essence of this one didn't really grab me either.

Sonia likes this drink a lot more than I do. She enjoys the "lightness" of it. I must admit, the lack of sweetness here is very refreshing. It's not a bad beverage, particularly if you consider the refreshment factor. I'm just not digging the overall flavor all that much.

Sonia's interested in trying the other varieties sold at Trader Joe's, but she wishes they offered more traditional flavors like the ones sold in Mexican marketplaces.

Three stars from me. Four stars from the wifey.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mashed Cauliflower

It's funny, seeing the most popular posts on our blog here. There are two product types that, without fail, bring you readers out in droves.

In one corner: cookie butter. Enough said. If there's cookie butter in it, and we review it, it's time for clicks galore. We all love it, and even if you say you don't, we all really know you're just in denial.

The other: cauliflower. Whether riced or pizza crusted, it matters not. Never knew that cauliflower had such a rabid fan base.

Two such opposite pulls...cookie butter and cauliflower....why not put them together into one?

Yes, yes, I know, Trader Joe's Mashed Cauliflower really isn't cauliflower cookie butter. There's no such thing as cauliflower cookies anyways....yet. But it's cauliflower in an easily spreadable form, right? There's at least a somewhat plausible similarity, right?

Well, if the mashed cauliflower were to be marketed as cookie butter, I'm not sure if it'd be more "chunky" or "creamy." It's certainly not "crunchy" but there are various sized hunks of cauliflower all in and through out that require a little jaw effort. I can see this presenting a textural challenge for some. It doesn't help that when prepared as directed with the requisite four tablespoons of water, there's a certain drippy wateriness that kinda brings the word "gruel" to mind.

Mmm, gruel.

The cauliflower tastes alright though. There's a slightly buttery inflection, with a fair amount of creaminess and a little garlic too. For something that's supposed to be mimicking the subtle comfy goodness of mashed potatoes, the dish does a relatively good interpretation. That being said, a good dash of black pepper helped out, and you'll want to season as you wish, though it's already so liquidy that gravy doesn't seem a viable option.

But in the end, mashed cauliflower really isn't that hard to make. Heck, we've made our own, and both Sandy and I were more satisfied with results from our own versus the the TJ's stuff out of a bag here. I can't even make much of a "convenience argument" here, I don't think. The bag cost $2.99 and while it won't be unwelcome in our freezer, I'm not convinced it'll be a usual pick up either. Sandy liked it more than I did, noting the texture could have been fluffier, giving it a four. Sorry, love, but that's entirely too high...if only it were cookie butter.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mashed Cauliflower: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Marbled Mint Crunch Chocolate Bar

Another day, another Trader Joe's chocolate bar.

This one has white chocolate, dark chocolate, and swaths of minty magic running through it. Also, there's a nice little crunch factor here. If you like sweet treats with that crispy cookie vibe, a la Crunch, Krackel, or Kit Kat, then look no further. And I know some of you are chocolate mint or "grasshopper" fans. If so, this is the candy bar for you.

Just imagine those original Andes candies with all the layers marbled instead of laid flat on one another, and then changed into perfect squares instead of rectangles. Then imagine each piece with small bits of cocoa cookie biscuit inserted into it, to provide a delicate crunchable brittleness to each bite, and then lay eight squares together in two rows of four squares each, and fuse them all together to make a chocolate bar. That's what you have here.

In my opinion, it's a nice balance of mint and chocolate. Despite the fact "white chocolate" is listed first on the ingredients, the bar neither looks nor tastes that way. If I had guessed at the type of chocolate employed here without looking at the back of the packaging, I might have wagered it was milk chocolate. I guess the white and dark balance each other out somehow. Sonia thinks the mint is a little too strong. But then again, she's not a big fan of mint and chocolate together. I think the ratio is just about right.

If I were to change anything about this bar, I'd ask for more crunch. There are probably more than enough cookie bits for the average person, but I think they make the texture more interesting, so I wouldn't mind if the crunchability increased dramatically.

Another point to ponder: it's a product of Ireland. I'm not sure how that makes sense economically to import something as simple as chocolate and mint, but I don't presume to question the methods of Almighty Joe. 

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

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mexican Style Roasted Corn with Cotija Cheese

The spiel on the back of the bag here claims this dish is inspired by elote, a style of Mexican corn often sold by street vendors. Every time I've seen it sold on the street, it's been on the cob. I had my first ear of elote some eight years ago when I lived in Southern California. Delicioso. There are definitely some similarities here and maybe a few differences. Let's take a look.

First of all, each kernel of corn is pristine: whole, plump, robust. They're far more perfect than anything I've witnessed on the streets of L.A. It is kinda fun to eat corn straight from the cob, but you can scoop the niblets into your mouth at least twice as fast with this Trader Joe's offering, provided you have a big enough fork and spry enough food-shoveling hand. And the kernels are all in various states of roastedness—some are deeply charred and black, some are yellow and barely scorched at all...but most are somewhere in between, not unlike traditional elote.

With the TJ's Mexican corn, there seems to be a lot more oil and sauce. With traditional elote, you might have butter, chili powder, hot sauce, lime, and a few other seasonings. The overall flavor is very similar, but I prefer the texture of the traditional seasonings to the unusual dissolving pellets of sauce that come with this product. I didn't dislike them by any means, but I'd still prefer to administer my own personalized amount of seasoning from the shaker(s) of my choice.

But by far the most disappointing aspect of this product is the exceptionally tiny packet of cotija cheese. It provides a delightful zip to the dish, but there's simply not enough of it to go around. I immediately found myself zeroing in on the clumps of corn that had the most cotija within them and quickly depleted my dish of the coveted cheese while more than half of my corn remained. The corn isn't terrible by itself. The sauce/seasoning alone makes the dish enjoyable, but the mixture isn't nearly as memorable without the cotija cheese. In my humble opinion, at least twice as much cheese is required here.

Sonia likes the corn and says it reminds her of her childhood, but she insists the sauce isn't spicy or flavorful enough. She agrees that more cheese is needed, as well.

Three and a half stars from this gringo. A meager three from a Mexican-American woman that grew up eating elote on a regular basis.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pizza Crust

At this point, I think we all gotta admit it: The world's most versatile vegetable is cauliflower.

Who woulda thunk it?

Sure, some others deserve credit/honorable mention. Like, say, carrots, especially in light of their incredible noodle impersonation. Never saw that coming. Zucchini can do a similar trick, too, of course, and is tasty in all sorts of preparations.

But cauliflower? Maybe because it's otherwise so bland and nondescript, it's too easy to adapt into healthier versions of a lot of stuff. Cauilflower rice is a good thing, as is stuff like kung pao nuggets...

...but now pizza crusts? You can do that? That seals it right there. Please see Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pizza Crust. Took me a minute to comprehend it myself.

Advantages: gluten-free, if that's a concern you have. Less carbs. More fiber. When covered in toppings of your choice, the inherent caulifloweriness of the flavor kinda fades to the background and makes an almost believable bona fide pizza crust.

Disadvantage: See picture. Flippety-floppety, soft and bendy.

We followed the "for a crisper crust" prep method on the box by placing the frozen cauli-corn disc directly on the oven rack. To my amazement, it didn't disintegrate and leave a crumbly Superfund-level disaster zone on the oven floor. The thought of scrubbing out scorched pizza remains definitely crossed my mind, but thankfully it did not come to pass. It browned a little, but remained soft and floppy....if this were a regular crust I'd say soft and super-doughy, but that's not quite right. It did, though, stay intact.

All that being said, both Sandy and I liked it, as did the kids. Both kids didn't believe us that the crust was made of cauliflower, so this might be a way to sneak some extra veggies in your young'uns. We'll probably pick it up again and see if baking the crust by itself first before adding toppings makes it a little crisper to our liking. Cost $3.99, which sounds like a lot until you consider how involved it would be to make your own. Use for pizza or making flatbreads or breadsticks....all without the bread, of course. More power to the cauliflower.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pizza Crust: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Boatswain Chocolate Stout Bar

Sonia thought this chocolate bar was from Botswana.

It sounds silly, but if you don't read the type carefully, the two words are only a couple letters off, so it's an easy mistake to make. And I mean, how many of us really use "boatswain" in our daily lexicon? Not I, certainly. Indeed, I had to Google it. It's the dude that maintains the equipment on a ship, apparently. What he has to do with stout and/or chocolate, I'm not sure.

Now, I've had chocolate stouts before. But this here's a stout chocolate. And I'm a stout man. And by that, I mean both that my body type is somewhat thick currently, as well as the fact that I do enjoy a good pint of stout or porter from time to time. It's a double entendre. Get it? Funny? No? No you don't get it, or no you don't find it funny? Whatever.

Anyway, on with the review. This chocolate is dark. 70% cacao, as we've seen quite often before at Trader Joe's. It apparently goes well with stout, coconut, black sea salt, and bacon, among other things. And at least in this case, Sonia thinks it's the perfect choice. I always prefer sweeter chocolates. If people aren't scolding me, telling me my chocolate isn't really chocolate, then I probably don't like it that much. Except in this case, there's a vague stout-ness about the product that keeps it interesting—but overall, it's just too dark for my tastes. Yes, I know that stout tends to be bitter as well, but somehow that works for me. I like my beer bitter and my chocolate sugary. But I'm weird like that.

Even the caramel here is dark and slightly bitter. It seems thinner than most caramels, as far as consistency goes. It's comparable to the caramel in the cara cara caramels in that sense. The thinness makes it even more messy, since it wants to run out of the chocolate bar quickly—almost more syrupy than caramelly.

The bar is made of eight big squares of chocolate. It has a very low profile. I want to say it's less than an eighth of an inch thick, but I don't have a ruler on me, so...don't quote me on that. It's thin enough that most bites will dissolve on your tongue in short order.

Sonia loves the flavor and would buy it again, although she claims she doesn't taste much stout here. Four stars from her. I think the way the subtle stout flavor blends with the chocolate is the most unique and noteworthy aspect of this product, but it's just not really my thing when it comes to desserts. Three stars from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Campfire S'mores Bar

"Oooh it tastes just like camping!"

Those are the words I would have expected to hear come out of my wife's mouth after a few bites of Trader Joe's Campfire S'mores Bar. Not like we're big campers...I think we've camped twice together ever. One fun night carcamping at a local state park, the other time an overnight at Joshia Tree National Park...where she was sick all night long. Something like too much In 'n Out after a massage plus fear of killer bees roaming the park and disappointment of not seeing a big horned sheep. Like I said, something like that.

That's not what she said, though. Much to my surprise.

It was more along the lines of "Eh, it could be better."

Agreed.

There's not a whole lot necessarily wrong with the TJ's s'mores bar. It's a thick slab of decent milk chocolate, with large crunchy chunks of graham cracker and soft, gooey, pillowy marshmallows mixed in and on top of the base. So there's little doubt that the final taste is at least fairly suggestive of the outdoorsy classic.

Except that "outdoorsy" part, of course. Those marshmallows aren't even toasted, let alone blackened and crispified from being set ablaze. No bugs. This is about as "outdoors" as camping at a Motel 6. There's nothing truly "campfire" about it at all.

Sandy would have preferred more of an inside-out s'mores bar type deal though. I'm positive she'll correct me in the comments below, but I interpreted her construct of choice as being a solid graham cracker with a similarly thick coat of chocolate all the way around, marshmallows embedded here and there. That also sounds tasty and perhaps with better cracker to chocolate ratio.

Overall, it's good, not great, not bad. Not as intense as actual camping...get it?...intense..."in tents"...Imma gonna stop this right here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Campfire S'mores Bar: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Cara Cara Caramels

When saying the word "caramel," apparently just about any pronunciation will fly. But in the US at least, there's no debate about the pronunciation of "cara cara," as in a cara cara orange. So just for the sake of consistency, let's all go ahead and continue the whole CARE-uh speech pattern into the word CARE-uh-mel. Use the long A sound in all three words, for crying out loud. It's just so cacophonous to say "CARE-uh CARE-uh KAR-uh-mels" and heaven forbid you say "KAR-muhls" when pronouncing the name of this product. But whatever.

I suppose the whole thing is moot point since all of this is written and not spoken and why on earth would I start a debate when there's simply no reason to stir up discord? I guess I'm grumpy because my Caps choked in the second round of the playoffs for the millionth time and I just paid four bucks for ten little candies at TJ's and I'm not even really sure I like them that much.

But I definitely don't hate them either. 

They're unique. Made with cara cara orange juice concentrate, the flavor is surprisingly unlike that of a chocolate orange. These are much saltier. And made with darker chocolate. And caramellier. Which isn't even a word. But gosh dangit, if people are allowed to pronounce "caramel" any old way they please, then I'm going to use "caramelly" as an adjective with "caramellier" as its comparative form and "caramelliest" as the superlative. Dangit. <drops mic>

<long pause>

<awkwardly shuffles back on stage and picks mic back up>

Ahem. I wasn't done talking about these caramels yet.

If you really pay attention, you can taste the orange juice in the caramel, which is a nice touch. Any sweetness in the product is balanced out with the aforementioned saltiness as well as a delicate bitterness. The chocolate is firm and rigid, and the caramel is fairly smooth and runny—almost juicy if that makes sense.

This product really grew on Sonia. At first bite, she wasn't sure if she liked them that much. But after a couple pieces, she ended up appreciating them more and more. She's going to settle on a final score of three and a half out of five. I'll go with three out of five since they're expensive. Plus if I'm going to have candy, I'll head for white chocolate over this stuff any day.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Jalapeño Limeade

Oh, this would have been perfect last week, with it being Cinco de Mayo and all, right?

Uh...maybe?

There's a couple common misperceptions about Cinco de Mayo. I'll be open to correction here. But I always hear it referred to as "Mexican Independence Day." Uh...nope. Cool idea and all, but seems, much like St Patrick's day, to be American appropriation of foreign culture with a big excuse to drink heavily. No disrespect to the actual meaning behind Cinco de Mayo, of course.

Listen, you don't need excuses to drink margaritas and eat tacos. And something that may go well in said margarita or alongside said taco is Trader Joe's Organic Jalapeño Limeade. 

+1 to TJ's for not labelling it Trader Jose's. 

As for the drink itself, it's interesting. In an interesting way. Admittedly, to my very gringo self, at first there was a "Mexican" vibe to it, mostly because nothing goes better with most Mexican dishes to me than a little spice and a little citrus lime twist. And that's more or less what the limeade tastes like - sweet limeade, without much bite, smoothly transitioning down to a spicy afterburn courtesy of the powdered jalapeños. The heat factor seems to waver a bit from sip to sip - some seem relatively mild, others with a deeper burn - but to my taste, never delved into unpleasant territory. Your mileage may vary, of course. 

That's kinda the crux - the jalapeño. It will make or break the drink for you. To me, it kinda limits the appeal somewhat. When I try to discern how refreshing a drink may be, I think if I'd want to drink a beverage after doing a few hours of yard work on a hot day. With that spice, I think this would score rather low...but I'm willing to be wrong. 

As a plus, that burn mixes nearly seamlessly with a little booze poured in. So there's that. 

At this point, Sandy and I are both more or less indifferent. There's apparently a Minute Maid jalapeño lemonade that she prefers. Good chance I'll be drinking most of this, slowly but surely. I'm okay with that, but it'll last a while. Nothing much else to say, muchachos. Solid threes from us both. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Jalapeño Limeade: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Birthday Cake Bar

White chocolate lovers, rejoice! All others, go about your business as usual.

All three of us in the world that appreciate white chocolate—no, wait...we did get a comment recently from a gal who loves white chocolate, so there must be at least four of us—should totally try this bar. It's great quality white chocolate, very sweet and creamy. What else is going on here? Not a whole lot. But simple is good. Let's take a look.

In addition to delectable white chocolate (I'm not a white chocolate supremacist, it's just my personal preference) there are colorful sprinkles and cookie crumbs which give the bar a fun appearance and crunchy texture, although the cookie crumbs are especially hard to detect visually since they're white on white. But make no mistake, they are there. And not only do they add a crispity-crunchitiness, they add a subtle amount of birthday cake flavor, too. 

The sprinkles just add that magical unicorn rainbow happiness that tends to make grown men smile and giggle. No? That's not a thing? I meant a magical unicorn rainbow happiness that grown men tend to be completely indifferent to. Ahem. <Clears throat and continues narration a full octave lower than before.>

There's no kale in here. No bacon. Nothing super weird, although TJ's—or TJ's third party supplier, as the case may very well be—did find a way to work in some interesting ingredients like beet juice and turmeric for color in the sprinkles (or "jimmies" if you prefer) and rice and potato flours in the crumbs. I guess the overall effect is vaguely birthday cake-ish, but mostly, it's just white chocolate.

The bar comes in six squares, perfect for breaking off a piece and saving the rest for later, although the product isn't particularly large to begin with. I could have easily polished off the whole thing by myself in one sitting. I did share with Sonia, however, even though she wasn't as impressed as I was. She doesn't like white people that much—er, I mean white chocolate that much at all. She prefers dark and occasionally milk chocolate like most of you silly humans.

I would have been tempted to push this product into at least the "really darn good" category just by virtue of it being made of white chocolate, but in light of its relatively small size and price tag of $1.99, it's not the best candy value in the store. I still give it four stars and an enthusiastic thumbs up, but my take on it will be offset by my wife (and 99.999% of humanity) with her lackluster three star rating and a thumb not down but sorta in the middle somewhere.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pepperoni Pizza Mac & Cheese Bowl

Let's have some fun here and talk guilty pleasures.

C'mon, what's yours? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours...

Okay, fine, me first. Let's see...fast food breakfast sandwiches. "If I Could Turn Back Time." Jackie Chan movies. Meatloaf. No, not the dinner classic, nothing to be guilty about that. The singer. No one can deliver such hokey lyrics with such powerful conviction as he. Sandy chimes in with Babysitter Club books.

I bring this up in reference to Trader Joe's Pepperoni Pizza Mac & Cheese Bowl, because, well, look at it. Looks ridiculous. Perhaps borderline genius. But really, whose name would you expect to be on such a concoction, Trader Joe's or Guy Fieri's?

Thought so. Note: Guy Fieri is decidedly not a guilty pleasure.

Anyways, take another look, this time at the product picture. Looks like the cheese and pepperoni slithered off the crust of an average run of the mill pizza and on top of a pile of mac and cheese. And that's really more or less how it tastes. There's some faint cheese flavor to the mac and cheese, and I'm sure it's actually pretty decent stuff underneath. But the pizza portion kinda overwhelms everything, with the greasy marinaraesque mozzarella making up the bulk of the flavor. Not that there's anything necessarily wrong with that. The pepperoni is pretty average and nondescript, a little wimpy in my opinion. I would have loved some thicker chunks over the skinny slices.

Mash up a freezer pizza with a box of Kraft, and that's more or less what the outcome is. That might be a slight under-evaluation, but not by much.

All that being said, I really enjoyed this more than I should have. Two classics mixed into one. There's so much comfort food vibe going on, and that's even from nuking it - baking it would have been even better, almost undoubtedly so. Sandy and I could both eat the whole tray ourselves, it's a good thing we shared.

In all, for two all time greats in one go, it's not quite Bowie-Mercury, but certainly not Bowie-Jagger either. It's a guilty pleasure, through and through, and every once in a while, is that such a bad thing? Nah. Between the two of us, Sandy and I appreciate it enough to give it a score a tad bit higher than it probably deserves. Don't judge too harshly, and dig in.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pepperoni Pizza Mac & Cheese Bowl: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Southwestern Chopped Salad

It wasn't until sitting down right now to type this review that I realized that the little "look in window" on the salad bag was shaped like a cowboy boot.

Cowboys. Eating salad. Mmmmkay. Not exactly what comes to mind.

But I guess if cowboys can eat chunky salsa and even chunkier chocolate bars, well, there may be room for salad. After all, they may have a soft spot for veggie burgers, of all things.

On to the salad. It's a darn good one. With one major caveat: You gotta like cilantro - a lot. Because that's really what every single bite tasted like - sharp, biting cilantro, accentuated even a bit further by green onion. I happen to enjoy cilantro to a moderate degree, and I was beginning to get close to a breaking point. Really, a fleshy, sweet addition - think grape tomato or even roasted corn - would have helped keep it all in check.

But everything else is pretty spot on. Good, crisp greens. Mild cotija cheese. The little baggie of mix-in tortilla strips and pumpkin seeds (I hate the word pepitas, call them what they are) added good texture and crunch with a little saltiness in there. And of course, the dressing. I'm not a huge salad dressing guy, Sandy's not all that into avocados, but we both loved it. There's a slight heat to it, so it's a bit like a soupier medium guacamole, which works really well with the rest of the salad components.

If only so much of the sald weren't drowned out by those ubiquitous cilantro sprigs.

We ate our salad with some grilled chicken strips, which made a pretty fulfilling meal. Some beef or grilled steak strips would another great addition, or even some tofu or black beans for a little protein. Would also recommend tomatoes and/or corn depending on your tastes. So it's not quite a "complete salad" kit in my estimation, but it'll get you most of the way there with a little room for customization to boot. Not bad for $3.99.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Southwestern Chopped Salad: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Monsooned Malabar Coffee

In case you haven't noticed, it's absolutely coffee season at Trader Joe's. Just in the past couple weeks, we've hit up amazing coffee brownies, coffee cookies, heck, even coffee flavored cased meats. And there's a lot more we haven't officially gotten to yet - but just you wait. Coffee is 2017's answer to 2016's mango, apparently.

And yes....I just realize now this will post on March 17th. St. Patty's Day. If you were hoping for something a little more Irish, check out this or this - or for the imposter green, this. My bad.

Anyways, in this coffee season, and on a day we all could use an extra cup...how about an actual coffee?

Introducing Trader Joe's Monsooned Malabar Coffee. Doesn't that sound fancy and exotic? Um, I guess. There's some huge ol' write up on the back about the history of coffee being transported on ships and being exposed to the elements and how that affected the coffee and how this can of java purports to mimic all that. Well, alright, I'll take their word for it. How's it taste?

Not amazing. Not bad. As an avid black coffee drinker, I like to think I can taste the nuances of different beans and roasts and whatnot. I'm just not picking up much here. But that's not a complaint. I like my coffee to taste, first and foremost, like coffee. That's how this brew is. Medium roast, fairly even and smooth for the whole sip. The can states there's a "woodsy aromatic" which I'm not completely buying but it smells like good coffee.

That's my take. But for a better one, take Sandy's. Up until the past few weeks, her coffee cup consisted of 10 parts creamer and sugar to 1 part coffee. Now, she drinks it plain and straight too. Obligatory Airplane! reference. She adjusted rather quickly, actually, and for all the coffees we've tried at home over the past few weeks, this may have been her favorite thus far. She stated it's because the Monsooned Malabar tries to be a good coffee on its own merits, instead of relying on additives to even it all out, if that makes sense.

And yes, in the spirit of St Patty's Day, you could probably "Irish it up" a bit and it'd work  quite well.

Worth a shot. We're both pretty happy and most likely will buy again, especially with how the two of us drink coffee almost nonstop on the weekends here. Decent stuff at a decent price - $6? $7? Typical price range for TJ's coffee, so we're going with a typical TJ's coffee score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Monsooned Malabar Coffee: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Ancho Chile Chicken Sausage with Roasted Coffee

Trader Joe's Ancho Chile Chicken Sausage with Roasted Coffee.

Ancho. Chile. Thank God. I have never been so relieved to read those words on a shelf label before.

You see, for the past week or so, Sandy has been talking about this new chicken sausage product from TJ's that one of her friends told her about. But she kept telling me it was anchovy sausage with coffee, not ancho chile. Even if it were anchovy sausage, out of ob-blog-ation to you all, i'd still try it....but so, so begrudgingly. My excitement level for the potential purchase bottomed out near turkey meatloaf muffin level, with even less expectation, and so as to ensure an honest, unadulterated review of my opinion, I refused to Google anything about a TJ's anchovy coffee chicken sausage, lest it would prejudice my opinion any more about them before trying. You gotta admit, that sounds like a garbage disposal nightmare cuisine.

Ancho chiles are supposed to be pretty mild, with like a southwestern-y feel to them. There's more flavor to them than heat. That's more or less the feel to these sausages - really, in some ways, think of a slightly spicier sundried tomato chicken sausage, and theat's a decent approximation to the flavor. More of the spice seems to derive from the pepper and garlic than anything else. Pretty decent flavor.

I haven't mentioned the coffee part yet...because I'm not really sure what it adds. The little brown specks are certainly visible, and there's a slight coffee-ish aromatic. I'll wager that the coffee seems to mute the rest of the flavors a little bit, but in a more or less unobtrusive way, if that makes any sense. Everything seems mixed about right and evenly, with the good textural bite held together by the casing that crisped up nicely while broiling.

For whatever reason, when eating these for dinner the other night, I kept on having an incomplete vision of Guy Fieri pimping these for a Chili's commercial. It seems the kinda product/kinda thing he'd do...sounds "edgy" and "cool" and like a one way trip to Flavortown, but really, it's neither great nor bad. These sausages kinda are what they are, without much more to say about them. Just thank God that assuming TJ's QA is at least somewhat up to snuff they are anchovy-free. The four pack was $4.49, so not an awful deal, not as weird as they sound, and would be a welcome re-purchase for our household.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ancho Chile Chicken Sausage with Roasted Coffee: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Strawberry Raspberry Oatmeal

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

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

Ahem. Back to the oatmeal.

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Grass Fed Buffalo Milk Butter

Ladies and gentlemen, consider the American buffalo. A strong and mighty animal, a national icon, revered by generations and immortalized by legend, songs, and even our currency. They're also scary as heck. Source: One stuck his/her head into my open car window at one of those drive-thru safari-type deals in central Ohio. Now, I know that buffalo are not carnivorous beasts but I feared my arm would get chewed off, and hearing the air shuffle in and out of a buffalo's nostril from like six inches away is intimidating at the very least. I'm glad that when I drove off, it didn't take my car door with it.

There's also all sort of buffalo meat products, some of which covered on this blog, like burgers and jerky and whatnot. Lean, meaty, tasty. Just like a good animal should.

And apparently, there's also now Trader Joe's Grass Fed Buffalo Milk Butter.

Returning once again to my albeit limited knowledge of buffalo, I know that buffalo are mammals. Mammals make milk. That also means that buffalo have nipples, which I never thought of until now, but came to mind because one of Robert DeNiro's greatest cinematic lines ever. Baby buffs need to eat somehow, I suppose....still. Buffalo nipples. No thanks.

Moving on....with buffalo milk you can make buffalo butter. That's what TJ's did, because, well, why not, right? If that doesn't sound exotic enough, it's "lightly salted with pink Himalayan salt." Hoo boy.

Despite all that, this butter tastes not all that different from regular butter. There's no overriding "weird factor" at play here. Maybe the only weird thing is how normal it is. If anything, the butter tastes a little milder, and maybe a touch less salty, but there's nothing abundantly different with it. We're primarily Kerrygold fans in our house (please, no "vegetable oil spreads" for us), and there's a difference: that aforementioned mildness.There's an extra something to Kerrygold which isn't there with the TJ's buffalo butter, but that's not meant as a pejorative. I can only taste the difference because, for the sake of the blog, I sampled both straight off a spoon* and I'd say is a tossup which one I like more. That's some praise.

I will add that the buffalo butter isn't too prone to spreading. It's hard when chilled, and even if kept out for a bit, the butter never really spreads that much. It's not a big deal for me, as the only time I spread butter is on top of something fresh out of the toaster, and this butter melts nicely when given the right conditions.

We like it. Seems healthier than regular butter - less cholesterol? I'm a guy reaching my mid 30s. Yes please! - without sacrificing too terribly much. I'm not sure if this "our new butter" or not, but I've caught both my wife and my kids eating it just straight*, a smidge here, a tidbit there after using it on toast or a waffle. I don't get it, but it's part of the package deal. The small tub was only a few bucks and worth the pickup. Sandy's only real complaint was it's tub form, making it more difficult to measure for recipes and the like. No other real complaints one way or another.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Grass Fed Buffalo Milk Butter: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Eating butter straight is disgusting. I only sampled some straight off a spoon for the purpose of this blog....people like my wife and kids do this willingly. Ugh. Cold lardy spread with nothing else? Gross. Really gross. Don't do it. Ever.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Sea Salt & Malt Vinegar Caramels

Salt and vinegar....a winning combo. I've always liked eating as many salt and vinegar chips as possible before getting overwhelmed by stinging lips. Kinda akin to too many Sour Patch Kids, but in a different way. With Lent upon us here in Pittsburgh, I'm looking forward to dumping some on our Friday night fish dinners - we take them seriously out here - just look at this appropriately black and gold map. Oh the sacrifice.

But while salt and vinegar taste mighty good on chips and fish (as well as fish 'n chips)....with dark chocolate AND caramel as well? What in the...I mean, I know that balsamic vinegar and caramels can be a thing, and a tasty one at that, but this? I'd never try that on my own. But TJ's has, with the introduction of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Sea Salt & Malt Vinegar Caramels.

It's a mad idea. Possibly brilliant, like the guy who "invented" pet rocks. He made millions. Or idiotic and sloppy, like when I tried singing "Chandelier" at karaoke. One two three, one two three drink indeed.

In actuality, it's somewhere between. The caramels cost $5 for a long skinny boxed tray of seven cubes, so a semi-premium price. Each bite was small, one large or two regular bite sized, with an ample sprinkling of coarse sea salt on top. So, obviously, this is going to be a salty chocolate. And it was, with the sodium being the predominant flavor until striking that caramel reservoir. That caramel...it was smooth and mellow and sugary, but then it hit. The vinegar. But it wasn't unpleasant at all as I feared may be the case. Instead it came in, slipped in a sweet tangy essence, and almost immediately dissipated. There weren't any lingering after-effects or anything that'd make you gag or run for a drink of water. All of this was held together by the representative dark chocolate - the right call for a muted cocoa variety which I'd estimate at about 65% dark. Not unpleasant at all.

Just one of them is really enough, though. I only ate two to try and get a handle on the taste, as did Sandy. I gave the others to coworkers, who all said the same thing: "I like them, but....I'd never buy them." Which is odd because it's exactly how Sandy and I feel. There's nothing wrong with the caramels, and they're actually pretty good for what they are, but I cannot see a compelling scenario where I'd willingly repurchase them. Maybe for a high-fallutin' pinky-liftin' wine-sippin' extravaganza which, well, I've never been to one and will probably not start now. They're good, and glad I tried, and kinda glad I can say I've eaten vinegar flavored chocolate candy now (sounds straight out of Willy Wonka that way), but if I never had another one again, I wouldn't be disappointed at all.

Seems to me they're a fun novelty type item that aren't nearly as weird as one may think, and certainly make a somewhat unique treat. Chances are if you like salted caramel chocolate combos, you'll have no problem with them. Emphasis on salt. No wonderful or perfect way to score them, so absent of unabashed love or repulsive hate, we're going with a three each. Have you tried? If so, comment away!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Sea Salt & Malt Vinegar Caramels: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mixed Nut Butter

Alongside cheap fastfood breakfast sandwiches and Shamrock Shakes, peanut butter is a weakness of mine. God, I love peanut butter. If I had to choose one food I had to eat every day for the rest of my life, a big ol' jar of Jif would be under heavy consideration. My hypothetical decision may rest on whether not different varieties of tacos could be considered or not. Anything you can put peanut butter in...heck, I've even had peanut butter on a burger and peanut butter beer, and have loved them all. Chances are if I'm raiding a kitchen late at night, I got PB on the mind.

This committed infatuation just doesn't extend over to other nut butters for me. I've dabbled in almond and cashew, and they're okay, but in the end, they taste like settling for a subpar burger when I could be having steak. Maybe it's partially because the words "nut butter" just don't sound right to me. I have the mind of a fifth grader, apparently.

So, forgive me for not being overly enamored with Trader Joe's Mixed Nut Butter. It's not a bad mix, at all - as you can see, almonds, cashews, walnuts, brazil nuts, hazelnuts and pecans - kinda akin to a high quality mixed nut canister. No peanuts in their pseudo-nut/really-actually-legume ways.

First turn off: the consistency. It's oily and drippy and saucy, even after refrigeration. There's a reason I mentioned Jif uptop: that thick, sticky, smooth feel? That's what I like, even if that's not always indicative of a "good" or "healthy" butter. But even by other butter standards, this goop seems thin and faintly gritty, with a fine sand-like feel. Meh.

And, despite all the nuts listed, I really can only taste two: almonds and cashews. Maybe  a little walnut here and there. Maybe. But it's primarily those two nuts, with a little salt, tasting all roasty and earthy and a bit dry and whatnot, but if you're hoping to taste all the nuts here, you're probably not going to.

All that being said, I think it's alright. A good breakfast/late night snack for me is an apple with some peanut butter, and this butter makes fine substitute. My wife Sandy made some chick pea blondies-dessert type deal* with half a cup of it scooped in, and it worked great for that - much more delicious than it sounds at first. So fluffy! And I'll admit to having one or two extra tastes right before writing this in the name of "making sure what I report is accurate."

Not perfect. Can use more taste of other nuts, and if given the choice, I would have preferred more of a chunky version. But not bad either. If I keep up with the apples and nut butter thing for breakfast, that can reduce my chances of going through the drive thru for a couple McGriddles and a shake...which would be awful(ly awesome) and my healthier breakfast is more satisfying anyways (or so I'll tell myself). I'll be fair and toss a three at it, and same goes for the wife.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mixed Nut Butter: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons