Trader Joe's Lemon Creme Sandwich Cookies

Some of you who've been shopping at Trader Joe's for a while probably remember when they went nuts with a particular commodity and released a bunch of similar products all at once. I'm thinking of Coffeepalooza and Mango Mania in particular. There were a couple years there when they released an unhealthy amount of new cookie butter products, although they spaced out those releases a little better than the other two incidents I just mentioned. And of course, fall after fall, we were inundated with pumpkin spice offerings, although that seems to be tapering off, as TJ's is now balancing PS with apple, butternut squash, and maple offerings a little better than they did in previous years.

But Sonia and I have always wondered why they haven't done "Ludicrous Lemon" or "Lemon Lunacy." They have plenty of lemon products, including lots of cookies, bars, tarts, pies, and beverages. Lemon Lunacy could include the re-release of Trader Joe's Lemon Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream. And that would not only make the WGATJ's team very happy, but it would please every connoisseur of fine ice creams in the country. Why do you hate your loyal customers so much, Trader Joe's?

These cookies would make a fine addition to Lemon Lunacy. They're lemony and sweet, and they're pretty satisfying. Flavor-wise, they're basically sugar cookies with moderate lemon flavor. They didn't go crazy with lemon here. I wouldn't have minded just a tad more lemonosity. Both the cookie elements and the filling are lemontastic, but not to the point where tartness even has a chance to overpower the product's dessertiness. They taste fresh, pleasant, and enjoyable.

However, in the texture department, our cookies were a little too stiff. I expected them to be soft. And they are...er, sort of. I figured they might be soft like Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies are soft. They're not. They're simply not crispy or crunchy. They're chewy...but, I mean, they're a little too chewy in my book. I wanted them to be supple and malleable. But...I dunno. "Stiff" is the only word I can think of to describe the texture. Ours weren't stale. They weren't more than a couple days old when we opened the package. Perhaps somehow their vegan-ness makes them stiffer than cookies that can use butter and/or eggs...?

At $4.29 for four cookies, these aren't super cheap, either. But at least there are eight servings in the bag. Wait. What? Yeah. You do the math. 

Worth a purchase for vegans and lemon fans, but there are better lemon dessert options in the store. Again, flavor-wise, these cookies are sublime, but because of the stiff texture and overall value, I don't think these will be a repeat purchase for us.  

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Wafer Cookies

"WHY DOESN'T TRADER JOE'S SELL BANANA CREAM PUDDING!?!?!?!?!"

I've wondered from time to time why TJ's doesn't sell particular items - I mean, they could have a whole line of baby food, name it Trader Joey's, put a baby kangaroo on it, and call it a day while making a killing - but banana cream pudding isn't one of those things whose absense I ever questioned. It's just not at TJ's. It doesn't need to be. Not that it wouldn't be welcome - I'm sure TJ's could acquire and distribute a pretty darn good banana cream pudding. But it never crossed my mind that it was something that the brand lacked, and as far as I know, not my wife Sandy's either, until the introduction of the new Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Wafer Cookies.

The blatantly obvious comparison to these cookies is the famous Nilla Wafers. Those are all time classics - a bit plain, yes, but everyone knows what a nilla wafer tastes like. And apparently Sandy's favorite way to enjoy those ubiquitously famous cookies is with banana cream pudding, hence her outburst of sorts.

I'll admit it, these TJ's wafers are pretty decent. One noteworthy facet of the appeal is the undeniable textural feel - they're incredibly soft and crumbly. There were very few full cookies that survived fully intact from factory to my kitchen. That's not a bad thing - the fact the cookies practically melt in your mouth is a major plus. Love 'em for that.

But still, there's something a little off here flavorwise. It's not the vanilla - it comes off strong and sugary upfront and is thoroughly enjoyable. But a few chews reveal a certain....I don't know what. For lack of better theory, I think it tastes a little eggy. Too eggy. And sure enough, the ingredients list "dry egg powder" which seems a little strange to me. I'm willing to be wrong here, but that's what I'll point to as the main culprit for my slight displeasure. Dry egg powder....*shakes fist*.

Regardless, we as a family enjoyed the cookies. Out of the box, they're good enough as is, but even better is paired with a little frosting or Nutella or jam. And, yeah, probably, banana cream pudding. Sandy raved about the wafers, noting their crumbliness. I like them enough to have a few but not enough to want to eat the whole box at once, so that's a plus. Couple bucks for the pouch and a few stars each in our books.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Wafer Cookies: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Cold Pressed Pineapple Juice

It's January. It's cold.

If you're anywhere in the general Midwest to NorthEast or so of the good ol' U S of A, you know this already. It's so cold here that they're closing all the schools tomorrow. I don't remember that ever happening back in my day...then again I never heard of a polar vortex until maybe three or four years ago, and somehow we've had one every year since. Windchills are going to in the negative teens or so tomorrow, so I guess it's too cold for the school busses to get their diesel engines warmed up, or too cold for kids to be waiting at bus stops, or something along those lines.

Hopefully it won't be too cold for kids at home.

I don't know why they can't just make "cold days" a parent/guardian dropoff/pick up only day, with a totally excused absence if that's not a possiblity, but that's a topic for another day.

On the dais for today: Trader Joe's Cold Pressed Pineapple Juice. There's that word again, cold. And of course, it's best served cold. Yet there's absolutely something about a warm, bright, citrusy, fresh tasting juice that conjures up a little tropical warmth, isn't there?

That's what TJ's got with this juice. Nothing flashy, nothing too special. But it's just honest and good. If like me you're unsure what the big fuss really is about cold pressed juices, this might be worth a read. "Cold pressed" always seemed like more of a marketing term than anything, but I guess I'm wrong. I mean, if the Kardashians swear by them...More nutrients, etc and whatnot. In the juice, that is. 

Well, whatever. It's tasty juice in all it's pineapplicious glory. There's a little bit of pulp, and the bottle absolutely needs a thorough shaking before consuming because of the settling sediment. Despite all that, the juice is cool, crisp and refreshing, and makes a great part of a busy morning breakfast or for a calmer treat. The degenerate in me wants to mix a little Malibu or some vodka in it, but that probably defeats the purpose.

Of course, it's a bit pricey at $3 a bottle. That's enough to make me balk at frequent buys. When confronted with a beverage choice in the $3 range, I'm likely to reach more for a kombucha than another bottle of this juice. I feel like there's a bit more value there than here. Could be wrong though, as is usual.

Nothing much else to say. We liked it. Maybe will buy again, maybe not, but worth a try. Matching threes from the wife and me.

Keep warm everybody!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cold Pressed Pineapple Juice: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Peel Away Fruit Leather Buttons

Discs. Circles. Roundels. Wheels. Planes with circumferences that are equidistant from their centers.

I don't know that "buttons" would be the first word I'd choose to describe these. It seems to me the word "buttons" indicates something with just a little more depth or girth than just circular sheets of fruit snacky material. But it does say fruit leather—not fruit snacks or fruit chunks or fruit slabs—which would suggest something thin. I guess I was just hoping for something slightly thicker than paper thin. But they're that thin. 

They seem optimized not for eating but rather adhering to one's teeth like whitening strips—except in this case, they're oranging strips. Each button is just a little tease of flavor. I guess you could peel a bunch of them off at once and wad them all together for a single larger bite—something you could really sink your teeth into with a bigger blast of fruit taste. Fifty-nine cents seems like a great deal for a pack of eight fruit snacks, but there's very little actual food in there. Half an ounce net weight. You get what you pay for. And a good bit of what you're paying for is packaging.

In addition to the cute outer wrapper, there are two long sheets of wax paper, one on either side of the discs. When it comes out of the pack, Sonia thinks it resembles... well, what do you think it resembles? I think it looks like a roll of Trader Joe's stickers—the kind they keep at the checkout counters at TJ's stores. 

Flavor-wise, they taste like natural fruit roll-up type deals. You can taste each of the constituent flavors. Mango, strawberry-mango, and grape-mango. Mango is my favorite in this case. It's the purity of the taste. There's no identity crisis like with the other two offerings.

I think grape-mango works a little better than strawberry-mango, but that's just me. I think the mango overshadows the strawberry flavor a little bit, but the grape-mango has just enough red grape potency to hang in there. None of the flavors are unappealing at all. They're just kinda random. Trader Joe's is flirting with mango mania once again.

I guess these would be pretty decent between-meal pick-me-ups or lunch box fillers, and they taste okay, too. But in the end, I'd rather just have those old fruit wraps we used to get all the time.

Three stars a piece from Sonia and me on this one.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

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

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

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

Why in the world would that be?

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

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

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

And then there's the salt.

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Vegan Jackfruit Cakes

Jackfruit. Where do I start? 

My history with jackfruit involves reading about it a couple times on the interwebs—including this insightful piece from a Trader Joe's review blog you might have heard of. I considered buying that curry dish myself after reading Mr. Shelly's post, but wound up going with something else that wanted reviewing. 

In the same way it resembles pulled pork in the last offering, visually, it greatly resembles the crab in a classic crab cake. Even the cutting open of these cakes approximates that of a crab cake. However, flavor-wise, it's much more "planty" than crabby. And the texture is a bit stringier and stiffer than crab meat. It's not unpleasant. It's just not a crab cake. Not by a long shot. No amount of crab seasonings would make me mistake this dish for an actual crab cake.

There's a moderate paprika-driven warming sensation at the back of the throat after consuming a few bites of these plant pucks, but honestly, even the spices here don't approximate the spice mix of true crab cakes. I've had potato chips that taste more like crab cakes than these things.

My initial instinct was to slap these puppies in between a couple slices of bread, top them with cheese, ketchup, and mustard, and treat them as jackfruit veggie burger patties. We were lacking pretty much all of those other elements at the time I prepared these, so I simply finished my serving in the manner of a vegan crab cake, but I still think the veggie burger route would work way better than pretending they're a substitute for crab cakes in this or any other parallel reality.

By themselves, they're not particularly flavorful, but they're not an abomination, either. There's a unique subtleness to the taste. For a vegan, these might be a viable choice to add to your regular meal rotation. I might still be an omnivore technically, but I'm always happy to find meatless products that are also free of soy.

I tried the cakes both oven-baked (preferred method) and in the skillet. I liked the skillet better because olive oil helps the taste a bit, but the oven method might yield a slightly more authentic texture.

Sonia and I are on the same page here. They're not bad, but they're no substitute for a good crab cake. As a pescatarian, even Sonia will enjoy one of those every so often. 3.5 stars x 2.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

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

Petrified fruitcake slices.

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

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

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

Ingredients: Fruit, nuts, (other stuff).

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

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

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

Maybe I'm exaggerating about the texture.

Am I exaggerating about the texture?

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

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Slims

"Hey are you gonna make a Fatboy Slim reference in your review?"

"Wha..who?...Fatboy Slim? Jeez, now that's a name from forever ago. What brought him up?"

"Well Pageflip* says 20 years ago he had the number one hit and you're reviewing the Joe-Joe's Slims so maybe I thought..."

"Ah okay, I thought maybe you were poking fun at me again, like I'm the fat boy who wants to be slim again."

"Ha, that's true too. Stop eating all the damn cookies then."

Actual real conversation this evening between my wife and me. Well, close enough. I don't know what app she was looking at but Pageflip sounded right in my head, but then again so do Spacebook and MyFace.

Well, here we are. Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Slims. Unlike the actual product, that name is kinda mouthful. It's like Trader Joe's³ Slims. That's a litte more streamlined if not confusing for the non-math savvy crowd.

Take a basic Joe-Joe, or your basic Oreoesque sandwich cookie. Make a thin version. Voila. It's an idea that's been done and around for a while. Some people seem to love slim thin cookies. I'm more indifferent. I want something big and crunchy to really bite into, instead of something wispy and snappy.

That's kinda the experience here with the TJ's slims. There's not enough cookie wafer to really develop that more enjoyable (to me) experience of a standard issue cookie. It's almost more cracker than cookie in a way. The sandwich creme doesn't suffer as much, even there's less of it. In some ways the creme even stands out a little more. My guess is the ratio got wacked with the slender crisps serving as the base or not, which is definitely not a complaint.

But yeah, the classic sandwich cookie, except thin. Twist apart and scrape out the creme. Dunk them in a glass of milk. Eat a couple and be good. Eat a few more and console yourself with the fact that two of these maybe equals one regular cookie. Eat the whole box over a course of a week (like I did because NO ONE ELSE WAS TOUCHING THEM) and draw the ire of your spouse. It's all good. You don't need to be skankin' like a Rockefeller and pretend to be all classy with them. Not sure if I have to celebrate these cookies, but I'll praise them like I should with a solid not bad.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Joe-Joe Slims: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Garlic Basil Linguine Pasta, Trader Joe's Mirepoix, and Trader Joe's Organic Low Sodium Chicken Broth

Well, this probably sounds familiar: We're busy. Constantly busy. I continually work 11-plus hour days. Sandy works part time outside the house and more than full time inside with our little girlies. Add on top of that our girls, our several nights a week worth of activities like Girl Scouts and dance lessons, normal errands and chores as well as our desire for our house to not appear like we live in squalor, and us occasionally wanting a little down time or God forbid a good night's sleep...we're busy.

And of course ya gotta eat. Even our girls, who take forever. Like our four year old the other night who somehow took over an hour to eat a slice of pizza, a cucumber, and some grapes...which is all food that she actually likes. Ridiculous.

So time is at a premium, but some chilly nights only a bowl of warm homemade (or homemade-ish enough) soup will do. Nights like that call for this trio: Trader Joe's Garlic Basil Linguine Pasta, Trader Joe's Mirepoix, and Trader Joe's Organic Low Sodium Chicken Broth.

First up: linguine! Who doesn't like a good al dente noodle? They are the absolute highlight of any chicken noodle soup. I mean, yes, absolutely, you could use these garlic basil noodles as a regular kinda pasta dish - toss with some butter, a little sauce maybe, pair with some grilled chicken, etc - but they work well for soup, too! The herbal aroma is fairly potent when opening the bag and while the final taste isn't quite as potent as initially suggested, there's enough added flavor to to make this TJ's garlic basil linguine a fine choice for all your noodlin' needs.

Life pro tip though: These are long guys. Break them in half if you put them in soup unless you like slappin' broth around everywhere.

Next: TJ's mirepoix, which roughly translates as "lazy American prechopped rabbit food." Nothing magic here, just the classic carrot, onion and celery mix. Open container, dump in pot. No peeling, no trimming, no chopping, no nothing. Convenience all the way. Listen, I actually really enjoy food prep. Few things make me happier than prepping a large pile of veggies and browning meat for homemade chili...it's therapeutic and relaxing and all that. But sometimes, it's strictly business between me and dinner, and those times call for mirepoix. It's definitely a product to use within a day or two of purchase, so plan accordingly.

Lastly: TJ's organic low sodium chicken broth. It's real nice for when you don't have your own ready made chicken stock at home. Just, uh, don't forget to flavor it some. The sodium content is pretty low (less salt per serving than Cheerios) which is a great thing...but leaves it all a little bland, as we found out when silly old distracted dad here totally neglected to put any additional seasonings in it before serving up. Kids didn't mind, but we did. Fortunately we had just the thing for a good savory taste. I'll take the vantage point that this makes a great healthy base to flavor as you wish, while Sandy's a little caught up on the inherent blandness.

Well, there you have it. These three TJ toss togethers and some left over chicken combined forces to make a quick, comfy pot of soup in less than 20 minutes that we all happily enough chowed down on our nightly familial pitstop cram session. It feels kinda silly to actually grade them all separately...can I just say they all ought to be regular pick ups, especially now in the middle of soup season? Not bad all the way around.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Garlic Basil Linguine Pasta, Trader Joe's Mirepoix, and Trader Joe's Organic Low Sodium Chicken Broth: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Brookie

"What dessert should I get from the grocery store, honey? Chocolate chip cookies or brownies?" asked Sonia.

"Brownies," I replied. "No, chocolate chip cookies. No, brownies. Ah, darnit...If only someone would smash a chocolate chip cookie on top of a brownie and sell the resulting conglomeration as a single dessert treat, then I could die a happy man. They could call the concoction a 'Crownie,' since it's a brownie crowned with a cookie."

"Actually, they do sell that. But it's called a Brookie," she explained.

Then my head exploded.

As you may have guessed, this conversation never happened in our household, and as far as I know, it is entirely fictional. We chose this product out of a sense of obligation to review all new popular Trader Joe's brand items like we've been doing for a long time now and no other reason. Plus, we like excuses to eat junk food. Why they call it a Brookie and not a Crownie, I'll never know. Maybe the guy who invented it had a girlfriend named Brooke. That's sexist. Maybe the girl who invented it was actually named Brooke. Or had a daughter named Brooke. Or maybe they made the dough with water from a magical brook. Who knows? I, personally, like "Crownie" better. And I'm well aware that the concept of a Brookie pre-dates Trader Joe's iteration of the dessert. They could have distinguished themselves from the herd by changing the name up a bit and making it Trader Joe's Crownie (Brownie Crowned With Cookie = Crownie). But whatevs. At this rate, Trader Joe's will never make me head of their product development team because I "lack experience," I'm "arrogant," and I have "terrible ideas."

Nobody from TJ's ever actually told me those things, FYI. That's just my own personal assessment of the situation. Imagine me saying those things with big air quotes for comedic effect.

Now, getting down to business here, I must say I'm really not sure what all the fuss is about with this Brookie. It's an adequate dessert if you're craving a chocolate chip cookie or a brownie or both, I suppose. But beyond that, I don't think there's anything particularly magical going on here. Neither element was unusually flavorful or soft or fresh—though, conversely, neither was particularly stale or unpleasant either. They both just felt like typical grocery store fare to me—like a Ralph's or Giant or HEB bakery made some cookies and brownies and then crowned the brownies with the cookies and stuck them all in the same box. Not bad, not bad. But not earth-shattering, either.

I'm apparently the minority here, because Sonia loved them. She dunked hers in coffee and acted like she'd never had a brownie or cookie quite so delicious in her life. I just feel like I'm missing something now. If they were fresh out of the oven, I might feel differently. But as it stands, I say they're more or less run-of-the-mill brownies crowned with run-of-the-mill chocolate chip cookies.

In the past, we've seen outstanding brownies from Trader Joe's and outstanding chocolate chip cookies. If they could have combined those two incredible products into one, I might be singing a different tune, but as it is, these get three stars from me. Four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peppermint Bark Popcorn

Grady the Grotesque Reindeer

Had a mouth full of corn,

And if you ever saw him

You'd also note the peppermint horns.

All of the other reindeer

Thought he was ugly and rough.

They never let poor Grady

Grace the bags of Trader Joe's stuff.

Then one crusty Christmas month

Big Joe came to say,

"Grady with your mouth so gross,

Won't you show your face the most?"

Then how the customers questioned him

As they shouted with disgust,

"Grady the Grotesque Reindeer,

We'll tolerate you if we must."

And that, boys and girls, is how this packaging came to be. The candy on the inside of the bag is another story altogether. You can see them there in Grady's mouth. They're just popcorn pieces covered in chocolate and peppermint. They're not bad. I recommend shoveling only one at a time into your mouth. Otherwise, as Grady can attest, they're quite a mouthful. And you'll feel, quite unfortunately, the way Grady looks.

What else can be said about these snacky spheres? The "caramel corn" layer doesn't particularly taste or feel fresh, but that doesn't matter a whole lot since the peppermint and chocolate flavors blend so nicely with the saltiness of the popcorn. If there were some magical way to make the popcorn seem fresh-popped, we might have a real winner here.

If you like peppermint bark and ever wanted it to be more salty, then this is the Yuletide snack for you. There's both dark and white chocolate in here, and that makes the overall flavor a bit more complex, since most peppermint bark I've seen is just white chocolate with peppermint bits. Also, there aren't really candy cane pieces in this blend. I think the peppermint just comes from the "peppermint bits" and peppermint oil. They're much finer grains of peppermint than I'm used to. Slightly more pleasant than biting down on sharp shards of candy cane, IMO.

Sonia thinks they're "super pepperminty," and not in a good way, apparently. She doesn't think the popcorn flavor is prevalent enough. I agree it doesn't taste as much like "popcorn" as any of the other elements, but do think the corn provides a significant saltiness. I think if they had used regular popcorn and not caramel corn, it might have worked a little better.

Sonia will be today's Grinch and bestow Grady's grains with three stars. I'll be slightly more generous with three and a half.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip

Listening to the scratch and watching the smear of windshield wipers when you can't get them timed "just right" for the precipitation. Wearing wet socks. Reading something then forgetting it five minutes laster. Hitting the 0 instead of the o on the keyboard.

What do all of these have in common?

Mild annoyances. Stuff that's not even really a deal breaker for having a good day, but something that causes a sigh and crosses your mind that you'd rather not deal with.

Okay, the wet socks is probably an extreme example. That's a day killer right there. But I mentioned it with assumption that either the socks will dry quickly or a new pair will be obtained in short matter, because nobody wants to deal with that.

Oh, another thing on my list: eating almost all of something and not really being sure if I liked it or not.

Such as it were with Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip. Not gonna lie: I smashed this and smashed it hard the other night during a family "snacky dinner" where had some pastry pups and veggies and chips.

But did I like the dip? Tough to say. On a certain level, yes, I must have. "Creamy" is definitely the right word, and there's plenty of onion and garlic and a little herbal goodness. Still, I felt like it could use a little oomph, a little something more, like a hint of Parmesan or little more hear from some pepper. It's good, not great...I'm just glad it wasn't made ranchy.

The mouthfeel though...it could be a deal breaker for some. It's not exactly chunky but it's sure not smooth, either. The cauliflower chunks are small and plenty soft without too much bite, but it ju st kinda feels a bit off, like in the same regard if not the same way as lumpy mashed potatoes. Either all chunky would be fine, or all smooth, but in the middle? Nah.

I'm not sure if this makes sense, but I'm thinking this TJ's veggie dip would be almost better as a soup somehow. Sure, it'd have to be reconfigured a bit...but this could be a really darn good soup IMHO. There's something potentially warm and earthy here which would be better expressed in soup form.

In all, it's not bad, I guess. I'd much prefer the TJ's cauliflower dip as part of a holiday veggie tray over most run-of-the-mill dips, but I'm not sure I'll be going out of my way for it either. It's in the freezer section for a few bucks and needs a couple minutes in the microwave to warm on up. Not bad overall, I'd say. Definitely better than wet socks.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Sour Cranberry Ale

Just recently, the WG@TJ's team has looked at cranberry wrapped up in meatballs, cranberry goat cheese, and a turkey dinner with cranberry sauce. We're on a cranberry kick. 

So when selecting our beverage of choice to go with our Thanksgiving meal, we opted for this unique brew, which is certainly new to us. Not sure if it's new to Trader Joe's. 

It's still very novel for us to walk into a TJ's store and see a beer and wine section—this case, in Des Moines, Iowa. None of the Trader Joe's near us carried alcohol of any kind while we lived in the greater Philadelphia area. We're anxious to see what we've been missing out on.

This beer has a witbier base and a good bit of cranberry flavor—but make no mistake, this isn't a "girly" drink. It's an ale. That is, it's not sweet at all. It tastes like a traditional witbier, but with the sourness of cranberries. Witbiers tend to be naturally slightly sour anyway, so the cranberry gives it a double dose of mouth-puckering tartness. If you're not hoping for or expecting any sweetness, it works quite well.

Some of you might remember that Sonia and I decided to do a turkey-less Turkey Day this year... 

Unable to procure the turkey-less turkey on our last TJ's run, we simply opted for fish on Turkey-less Day, which was, to our surprise, available at Cracker Barrel on Thanksgiving Day. We did take-out and ate the meal with this crantastic beverage. We still had some traditional sides like mashed potatoes, corn, rolls, and green beans. This ale paired just fine with most of those foods, providing a sourness in between all our salty, buttery bites. 

As you can see in the picture, it poured with a very large head—no doubt enhanced by the fact we drove with the beverage for a hundred miles or so before opening. It's a pretty light red color, and it smells subtly like tart cran-wheat.

Apparently, there are other flavors of these sour ales available at some TJ's, including raspberry, which I'm now eager to try. These beers originate from a well-known brewery called Petrus—masters of the sour brew, from what I've gathered. The bottle runs $7.99, which is a bit steep for any beer, if you ask me. We splurged since it was a special occasion, but wouldn't make this a regular purchase. 5% ABV. If you're really into SOUR beverages, it's worth a try.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Turkey & Stuffing En Croute

There's always something to be thankful for. So why not have Thanksgiving a little early?

In addition to wanting to sample this Thanksgiving-in-a-box for all you "Trader Nation" folks, Sonia and I are very thankful for a number of things. We're thankful that we sold our house and can now travel the country nonstop in our RV, and we're also thankful that despite a severe stroke, Sonia's mom is in stable condition and now seems to be on the mend in most ways.

We'll still be hitting up Trader Joe's stores as we pass by them in different cities, but we'll seldom be patronizing the locations at our old haunts in Pennsylvania, Delaware, and New Jersey. "But how will you see the states that don't have Trader Joe's?" you ask? Apparently, there are only 8 left without one, and they're generally either A) close to a state that does or B) not in the continental 48. Alaska and Hawaii will have to wait a few years. Furthermore, Sonia and I aren't looking to go too far out into the boonies, since we both need cell reception and internet for our day jobs. We'll be sticking relatively close to the cities most of the time—places where TJ's are anyway.

On to the review.

I'll just start off with some positives first. Let's look at the cranberry sauce. Yes, it comes with a pouch of cranberry sauce as well as a pouch of gravy. I hadn't realized that at the time of purchase. I can't think of any specific examples right now, but there have been a number of products throughout the years from TJ's that appear to come with some kind of dipping sauce or condiment and in our excitement, we purchase the product without really reading the packaging, only to get home and be disappointed to read "serving suggestion only" on the label. This product is the opposite. There's a small note on the big box explaining, "gravy and cranberry sauce packets included." That's a good thing. That's one of those things that you can go ahead and print in a large font on the cover of the product. Although there's not a ton of it, the cranberry sauce is sweet, tart, citrusy, and full of festive spices like allspice, nutmeg, ginger, and cinnamon—tasty. It reminds me very much of a gelatinized Winter Wassail. It's a nice treat on its own or mixed with the turkey and stuffing.

In typical Trader Joe's fashion, our bird required an extra half hour in the oven to remove the last bit of pink from the inner turkey. There's a nice subtle blend of herbs and seasonings in the dish, and the copious outer layers help keep a ton of benevolent moisture in the TJ's brand "butterball."

Speaking of the "outer layers"...

My goodness. After eating a slice or two of the product, one begins to realize the shocking ratio of pastry crust to meat. As in, there's more "en croute" than there is turkey. Fortunately, most of it is flaky, bready, flavorful, and almost worth eating on its own. I'll remind you now that Sonia is a professing pescatarian, yet she sampled this product after realizing that she could eat a good bit of it while only taking a bite or two of turkey. I confess, I prodded her into it. In exchange, I agreed to eat only turkey-less turkey on actual Thanksgiving this year. Fair exchange.

Oh yeah. There's the gravy. It's okay. I've never been much of a gravy guy, truth told. This particular dressing is nothing special in my humble opinion. It's super salty. It's almost like miso soup with turkey fat swirled into it. Not terrible. Just unnecessary in this instance. The turkey was juicy enough on its own.

About $13 for the meal. Plenty of food for two people, even on T-giving Day. You could probably stretch it to four if you had a few extra sides to go with it—and I'm not talking USDA "suggested serving sizes," I'm talking Thanksgiving Day, pig-out, all-you-can-eat, give a plate to each of the dogs, let's celebrate life kind of servings. 

Three and a half stars a piece. And an extra half a star. Because I'm in a good mood. Why not?

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vanilla & Pretzel and Trader Joe's Coconut & Almond Greek Lowfat Yogurts

Chobani Flips, Fage Crossovers, Yoplait Mix-ins, Siggi's Simple Sides...you know what I'm talking about. They're yogurts that come with their own toppings. Pretty much idiot-proof. Just open up both compartments and dump the side with the mixables into the side with the yogurt. If you can land the toppings in the container and stir them up without spilling anything onto the table or the floor, you've passed the test. Just consume and enjoy. 

I think these products indicate that the yogurt industry is trying to combat the idea that plain yogurt is boring. It certainly can be, but I'm still fine with non-mixable yogurt. Maybe it was all the business little yogurt shops like Yogurtland and Pinkberry were taking away from the mainstay yogurt guys. 

"Oh, you want to PUT STUFF on your yogurt?" said yogurt CEO's, annoyed with their customers for not being a little more brand-loyal. "We hear you loud and clear, friends. Here's yogurt with STUFF you PUT on it. Sheesh."

Now, it's Trader Joe's turn. These were the only two flavors we saw on TJ's shelves so far. If any others have been sighted, let us know in the comments below.

Sonia and I both share our thoughts in this short video review. Sonia gives three stars to the vanilla pretzel offering and four stars to the coconut almond one. I'll throw out three and a half to each.

Trader Joe's Vanilla & Pretzel Lowfat Greek Yogurt: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Coconut & Almond Lowfat Greek Yogurt: 7.5 out of 10.