Trader Joe's Autumn Maple Coffee

Maple and coffee.

Coffee and maple.

It's absolutely a thing. And no, it's not really all that weird of a combo, like, say, chicken and donuts. In our house, my lovely bride Sandy puts maple in her coffee all the time. I do, occasionally, as well if I need a slight change up from plain black brew.

So to get them together, infused, in something like Trader Joe's Autumn Maple Coffee is a must-buy for us. So how good is it?

Listen: If you haven't figured it out yet, we're mapleoholics here. And as two adults with more-than and close-to full time jobs and a van load of young kids, we're definite coffee addicts too.

But...this stuff is only okay at most.

There's a couple issues. First and foremost: It only comes pre-ground. Wha!?!?!? There is an absolute difference in coffee taste for fresh ground vs pre ground, and for French press vs regular drip. At home, we're French press people...but you need coarse ground for that, less any grounds don't get caught by the filter. We don't have that option here.

So we dragged up our Hamilton Beach BrewMaster from our basement stairs (because where else would you store your coffee maker you usually only use when hosting a large mass of people?) and dug out the paper filters and fired it up.

When hot and ready...ugh. The coffee just doesn't taste right when hot and piping fresh. There's this really almost acidic kinda bite, and it's oddly bittersweet. Instead, wait for the coffee to cool for a few moments. That's when the maple flavor develops a bit more and is actually pleasant.

I've heard from some folks how aromatic the coffee is when brewing. It is quite maply when the bag is opened, but when percolating, at least in our case, not so much.

Some of the issues I mentioned might be mitigated somewhat if you're a cream-and-sugar fan for your coffee. I'm not. So take what I said there whichever way you see fit.

Neither Sandy nor I are huge fans. The maple coffee is a decent buy at best, which is kinda disappointing for us. I'm not sure of the price tag but it's probably around $8 or $9 for the cannister. We'll be charitable and say double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Autumn Maple Coffee: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Outside-In Stuffed Gnocchi

Finally, it's officially fall. The afternoons are still quite warm here in the midwest, but it was nice and cool yesterday morning, so we were craving something hot and somewhat hearty for lunch. We'd normally do pierogies on that kind of day, but lacking those, we opted for gnocchi. Similar, right? Heated in the skillet with butter and/or oil, potatoes, cheese... I mean, they're not exactly the same, but a pierogi craving could certainly be curbed with gnocchi, no?

I fired up the stove top, took a couple product pics for the blog, and tore open the bag. And then...I followed the heating instructions exactly.

What resulted was nothing resembling pasta or dumplings, but little balls of mashed potatoes with bits of cheese and tomato sauce inside. I mean, "mushy" would be an understatement. The taste was perfectly fine. What's not to like about the taste of potatoes, mozzarella cheese, and something vaguely reminiscent of marinara sauce? Nothing. Delish.

The texture was another story. The gnocchi would often rupture or disintegrate as I stirred them. You can see one specimen in the pic is showing its tomatoey insides there where I accidentally punctured it during the heating process. I took a few bites, somewhat disappointed with the uber-soft squishiness of my gnocchi...but then I discovered a piece that had not been stirred properly. It had sat right in one spot for more than six minutes. It was a deep brown on its underside, nearly burnt. It was perfect! The outer shell was firm, chewy, nearly crispy. 

So...I simply heated the uneaten portion a bit longer. And by "a bit longer," I guess I mean a lot longer. I stopped looking at the clock and just watched the food. Once the gnocchi were all nicely browned, I turned off the burner. After that, these little guys made a great warm lunch on a cool day.

The gnocchi are super-filling and dense. They are indeed like pierogies, but still significantly softer, even when cooked extra long, and their shells are actually potato based, rather than pasta filled with potato. The cheese and sauce are pretty tasty, although there's not quite enough of either. One blurb on the bag states, "The sauce is on the inside!" Farther down in the heating instructions, it says to add your own favorite sauce. Smh. Which is it? Stop sending mixed messages, Mr. Joe.

We ate ours without extra sauce, and we liked them just fine, although Sonia would have preferred a lot more of the tomato-based topping and would have added more if we had it. 

Three and a half stars a piece on this one. $2.99 for a pound. Pretty darn good value if you ask me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers

Coming late summer...to a Trader Joe's near you...from the same geniuses who brought you Scandinavian Swimmers comes a new gummy snack that...will...blow...you...away!

Pucker up...it's Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers!

It's time to dive in!

Okay, that was kinda lame intro, but try reading it in the movie trailer voice, so a little deep, booming, and dramatic, and think of this new yummy gummy offering as yet another summer sequel or remake of a classic. 

And yes, I still chuckle at the name too.

But yeah, if you're familiar with the regular swimmers and are looking for a slightly sour twist, these are the snack for you, no doubt.

Notice I didn't say "super sour," unlike the product name. Slightly sour. Mildly sour. Like, not really all that sour. For reals.

Perhaps Sour Patch Kids aren't the be-all-end-all of sour candies, but they're a good benchmark. These Scandy swimmers are nowhere close. You know how your mouth will hurt and lips sting once too many SPKs have passed them by? That's an impossibility here - the fishies just aren't potent enough.

Like SPKs, the TJ's sour swimmies use crystallized citric acid as the souring agent on the outside. The granules here aren't nearly as big and aren't quite as densely populated. The end result is a rather mild sour effect - it almost ventures more towards tangy than sour. Oh well.

Aside from that, there's a lot to like here. The gummies are soft and inviting, a little chewy, and definitely not stiff. The flavors are kinda fun, though I had to look them up - redberry starfish, (which taste like any red candy) huckleberry dolphins (I would've guessed blue raspberry), orange tangfish (spot on), and strawberry clam shells (a red berry that is different from a redberry, apparently). Yummy and gummy, just how I like my candies. And as always, added bonus of no weird chemicals and artificial colors - just fruit and veggies. Regrettably, also palm oil though. Nothing's perfect.

So in short, there's definitely blockbuster potential here, but like many summer movies, the end product just might not live completely up to the hype. Still enjoyable though. And for $2.99, definitely a good buy. Maybe sneak them into the movies. Paying full retail at the concession stand would definitely be the sourest experience of all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Organic Lemonade

Please excuse the slightly disheveled shape the box of Trader Joe's Organic Lemonade pouches is up top of this review. I salvaged it as best I could. You see, my kids drink pretty much only water and milk, with the occasional hot chocolate or fizzy water. Oh, and my four year old likes the last sip of my coffee too...even though I drink it black...weird.

Point is, drinks like this are a downright treat. And when playing in a creek at a picnic with a bunch of friends, when these punchy pouches get busted out, there were shrieks of joy. 

Personally, I've never liked the idea of beverages in pouches. I get it from the ecological standpoint but there's too many bad memories of stained and ruined, CapriSun-soaked Champion shorts from my youth. Seriously, I know of no kid who can do these themselves. I just turned 37 and can barely manage it, can anyone really expect the under-10 crowd to?

But anyways, for what it is, this TJ's lemonade is decent. It's not awesome but not awful either. The comparative competition isn't really all the delicious fresh squeezed juices out there, or those you can make for yourself...I mean, this is from concentrate and all that. It's all the other juice boxes on the shelf, with which I'm not well acquainted with current offerings.

The lemonade itself is pretty well balanced. There's plenty of citric lemonosity but enough sugar to keep it all in check without being overly tart. And there's not that much added sugar, I don't think, for being what it is. It's smooth, pulp free, and can definitely be a touch refreshing. There's no sticky sweetness or odd aftertaste or anything. It works.

I'd prefer lemonade more on the tart side, with the pulp and what not, but something tells me as the middle aged guy in this conversation that I'm not the target audience here. Yeah, at the aforementioned picnic, I was more after the adult beverages while trying to ensure no one was in danger of drowning. I'm not 100% sure of the price on these, as a friend of ours brought them in, but probably in the $4ish range for eight pouches. Correct me if I'm wrong please. All the kids at the picnic liked them enough for me to give 'em a score higher than I would otherwise.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Lemonade: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Peanut Butter Light Ice Cream

After posting our review of the Light Cookies & Cream ice cream flavor, a number of readers asserted that this Peanut Butter Chocolate version was even better. So, naturally, we had to check it out ourselves.

I'll give you the TL;DR up front—I agree with those readers, Sonia does not. 

I've always had an affinity for peanut butter, most peanut butter flavored products, and definitely any ice cream that can work the luscious, protein and good-fat-rich, creamy, buttery, legumey goodness of peanut butter into its mix in any sort of competent manner. Sonia likes peanut butter okay, but isn't particularly fond of peanut butter in her ice cream. Fair enough.

I also think peanut butter lends itself to this "protein shake in my ice cream" vibe that these light ice creams are throwing our way, or at least it works better with peanut butter than it does with sandwich cookies. I will never in a million years make the assertion that ANY of these diet ice creams even come close to the real thing, but I must admit the calorie count is dramatically lower than a pint of the full-calorie stuff.

This ice cream flaunts a rich chocolate look to it—it's a deep brown, nearly appearing like brownie batter. Each bite has plenty of chocolate flavor, and to a lesser extent, peanut butter. But there are ribbons of actual peanut butter throughout. Those bites are my favorite. There's a huge amount of peanut butter taste when you find those hidden caches of cold, stiff peanut butter that rapidly soften and melt in your mouth. My only complaint with this flavor is that there's not quite enough peanut butter. Sonia disagrees.

I'd put this very high in the running for best light ice cream flavor I've ever had, and if you're an ice cream hog like I am, you're only looking at 370 calories for the entire container. On the other hand, if I were seriously counting calories, I'd probably just get a pint of Chubby Hubby and eat it in two sittings instead of one. Still this gets a big thumbs up from me. Four stars.

Three from Sonia, who insists the Cookies & Cream one is better.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Soy Slices Cheese Alternative

As a general rule, my lovely bride Sandy and I don't talk about or share pictures of our kids on social media too often, if ever. Yeah, it is kinda fun and occasionally therapeutic to make those kinda posts, but we kinda want a little privacy for them. If my folks were to make a digital diary of everything I ever did as a kid....*shudder*. I mean, even some of the stuff I wore  - fashionable at the time, now cringe worthy. If my grandma were still with us, she'd be sure to read this then find a picture of me in my old super baggy hooded t shirt with the the vertical thick purple and white stripes and matching purple shorts as I looked "so handsome in my purple suit."

But I will share this: *one* of our kiddos who shall remain nameless online has a dairy issue. Too much milk and this particular rugrat has some digestive issues the next day where this kiddo cannot, well, go. It stops 'em up. But of course like any youngyin, this kiddo loves cheese. So whatcha gonna do?

Check out Trader Joy's Soy Slices Cheese Alternative, that's what.

I'll never personally like any alternative cheese product as much as the real thing, but for what they are, these slices aren't too bad. Think Kraft Single, and that's a decent approximation. Is a Kraft Single necessarily good cheese? Nah. Are they good compared to some? Sure.

And does it melt? Like Velveeta.

Interestingly, these soy boys refused to melt atop the burgers I made the other night. Flat out wouldn't. But when Sandy made both grilled cheese and quesadillas with them, they turned into practical pools of oozing yellow.

In any event, the cheez is what it is: mild,a touch salty, soft, cheddar-like enough. Not super high quality but not awful either. Our kids like 'em enough. I will say if packing for a snack or on the go and they get a little warm, these slices do tend to sweat quite a bit and get a little slimy, so there's that.

It is worth it to note that while being 99% lactose free (and therefore neutral to our kiddo's digestive tract), there is casein as an ingredient, so these would be worth avoiding still if an issue for you. And they are not vegan or vegetarian either.

For about $3 it's a fair price and given the needs of our kids, I'm sure we'll buy these often. It is kinda nice to have a dairy/lactose almost-free cheese option that's a veritable slice and not just shreds. In short, these slices suit us just fine. Double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Soy Slices Cheese Alternative: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Shortcake Biscuits

As a boy growing up in the 80's, I was into Masters of the Universe and Transformers, as were the vast majority of my male friends. While it wasn't our thing, of course, we were well-aware of Strawberry Shortcake, a favorite among our young female counterparts. Likewise, Sonia, another child of The "Me" Decade, grew up a huge fan of the fruit-themed cartoon. In fact, her childhood bedroom flaunted a Strawberry Shortcake sheet set for a time.

Because of the television show's universality among our age group in particular, I spent most of my childhood—and adolescence, for that matter—associating the term "strawberry shortcake" with a red-headed cartoon character dressed in pink and white, topped with an oversized strawberry-patterned hat, rather than the delicious non-gender-specific dessert that it actually is. I don't think I even tried strawberry shortcake until young adulthood. I mean, it's not like I avoided it on purpose. I just never sought it out. Nowadays, I get a hankerin' every once in a while. Fresh fruit, whipped cream, and shortcake seems a bit lighter and more appropriate as a warm weather dessert than, say, oily, icing-laden birthday cake.

We had these biscuits with Reddi Wip Non-Dairy with Almond Milk and frozen strawberries. All three ingredients were slightly more shelf-stable versions of their traditional equivalents. These shortcake biscuits are exactly what you might assume they are—shortcake, but in biscuit form. They're denser, firmer, and drier than freshly-made shortcake. Sonia said they reminded her of scones. I totally agree. They're like plain scone bread with a lightly-sweet shortbread flavor—almost like hardtack, but significantly more dessert-like and pleasant.

Sonia remarked that she's had biscuits that taste too salty or too much like baking soda. I'm not sure I know exactly what she's talking about, but I agree with her that these pastries are pleasantly free of such flavors. They do blend well with fruit and whipped cream, as the packaging claims. I wouldn't say they're a perfect substitute for freshly made shortbread, but they're adequate for this not-completely-fresh makeshift version of the dessert that we concocted yesterday. 

$2.99 for four biscuits. Four stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins

Remember that Seinfeld episode about muffin tops? I scarcely do. It's been a while since I've sat down and watched any TV, let alone any '90s reruns. But I recall there being one about muffin tops...something about Elaine having a bakery that only sold the tops and had a hard time unloading the bottoms or "stumps". Like not even a homeless shelter wanted them. Does that sound about right? The whole point being, of course, that muffins tops are the best part of the muffin. Like most Seinfeld plots, of course it's a fairly preposterous scenario...while still somewhat rooted in a bit of reality 

This vague recollection sprung into my head while munching on a Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffin. Apparently I'm on a muffin kick this month...no matter. Gotta indulge every once in a while.

Definitely, the muffin top here is far superior to the muffin stump. It's probably for no other reason than the little sprinkling of crunchy sugar crystals encrusted up on top. There's not a whole lot of it, not nearly enough to make your teeth hurt, but just enough to help sweeten the whole thing up.

Add in the slightly crispier exterior bite, and maybe a touch extra of lemon zest, and there it is. This is one good muffin top.

The rest? Eh. It's sort of an ordinary blueberry muffin. Which isn't exactly a complaint. I'd be perfectly happy buying a muffin like this at a bakery or coffee shop, or making one of them at home that tasted just like this one. So I like them. But there's not anything too terribly special that puts them apart and above and beyond the competition. I mean, it's just...a muffin. Meh.

And unlike the recently reviewed almond muffins, there's not enough here to keep me full and going for a while, either. It's not an empty 360 calories per serving, but they're not exactly efficient either. I ate one alongside a cup of coffee and was hungry again within two hours.

Average muffins. That's about all. If only the whole thing was as good as the top...oh well. Maybe that Seinfeld episode had a bit more truth than usual to it. Double threes from my lovely bride and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Cookies & Cream Light Ice Cream

Halo Top. Arctic Zero. Enlightened. Even other store brands. Everybody's jumping on the light ice cream band wagon. Shouldn't it be "lite" ice cream, though? The old, formal, traditional spelling is so...heavy, dontcha think?

The idea of diet ice creams pre-dates this latest wave of lite offerings by at least a few decades, but it's as if they just recently realized that they don't have to make these reduced calorie offerings taste disgusting. I guess it's the advent of stevia...? I mean, there's still cane sugar, powdered sugar, cream, and eggs in this concoction—even Joe-Joe's cookies. 

So what's the secret? If it's not painfully apparent already, I'll let you know that I'm no food scientist. Could it be the "steviol glycosides"?? The dextrose? The monk fruit extract?

Wait a minute. What the heck is a monk fruit? And what is its extract doing in my cookies n' cream ice cream?

I may never answer any of these questions in my lifetime, let alone in the next few paragraphs of this review, so let's just move on to what I can tell you about this new product from Trader Joe's...

In short, it's not nearly as disgusting as the diet ice creams that were around decades ago, but it still tastes like diet ice cream.

There's a thick, rich quality to it that I've noticed in some of the other "healthy" ice cream offerings I've tried in the past couple years. I guess it's the milk protein concentrate. It's almost as if they added a protein shake into the ice cream mix. It's a little "pasty" for lack of a better word, but it blends surprisingly well with the flavor of the ice cream and cookies in this particular instance. It's still not a taste I'd ever crave over traditional full-calorie ice cream, although Sonia was even more okay with this "protein powder effect" than I was.

For the most part, the Joe-Joe's are far and few between, and they're little more than crumbs here. We're about half way through the pint at the time of the composition of this review, and there was only one notable exception to that rule so far—there was about a quarter of a full Joe-Joe cookie wedged into the mix near the top of the container. It was nice to have that big slab of cookie, but no amount of Joe-Joe's would ever make this my favorite cookies n' cream ice cream.

If you're into reduced calorie ice creams, I guess this flavor is worth a try. Flavor-wise, it's no replacement for the real thing in my opinion, but it's on par with most other light ice cream offerings on the market right now. $2.99 for a pint isn't a bad price point when compared with other brands. Also, lots of protein here, and only 100 calories per serving. 

Three stars from me. Four from the better half.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemon Basil Pasta Salad

Whether you're a cubicle jockey, a work-from-home telecommuter, or a full-time traveling digital nomad—all of which Sonia and I have been—pre-packaged, refrigerated lunches like this one come in very handy most days. "Lemon basil pasta salad" sounds like a refreshing meal for these 90+ degree summer afternoons. Let's see what's going on here, shall we?

What's working: the overall taste is fresh and lemony. We found decent quality greens in our bowl, pristine bowtie pasta, shredded asiago cheese, and a significant amount of basil flavor. There's even a lemon wedge, ready for squeezing. The pre-applied dressing isn't overbearing or intrusive and adds just enough zing to make it interesting.

What's not working: I'd replace half of the pasta with more spinach. That's not something I'd expect from myself normally—craving vegetables over carbs. I guess I'd just rather see this flavor as, you know, a "salad," rather than a "pasta salad." There are plenty of traditional salad options at TJ's if you're with me on that one. I'm just pointing out that this offering is very much about the pasta, despite there being some roughage here, too. There are some peas floating around in the mixture. They don't add a whole lot, if you ask me. They weren't bad, though, either. I'd just rather see some romaine lettuce or more spinach in a dish like this one, personally. Also, when I mixed the salad elements around, I managed to spill some of them onto the counter. It's partly because I'm completely inept when it comes to stirring solid foods around in a small bowl, but it's also partly because the container isn't very rigid and the elements are packed full to the brim. 

Looking at the ingredients, I'm surprised there wasn't more oomph to the overall flavor. Cayenne pepper, chili pepper, chopped garlic, and dijon mustard are generally going to render something with a tad more kick. I wouldn't mind tasting a significantly spicier version of this salad, but it's nothing to complain about as is. I think a spicy rendition might overpower the lemon and basil, and that would be a different flavor entirely.

$4.49 seems a tad steep for what you're getting here. It would be enough for one person for one sitting. In our case, Sonia and I shared it and supplemented with other snacks for our mid-day meal. Do note: there's no little plastic fork included here, so if you're going for a car-lunch, make sure you have a utensil on hand (and probably some napkins). All in all, not a bad choice for a light lunch. Double three and a halfs.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Neapolitan Joe-Joe's Ice Cream

Just about a year ago, Trader Joe's introduced Neapolitan Joe-Joe's cookies. They consist of one chocolate cookie and one vanilla cookie with strawberry filling in between. Unless you twist off one of the cookie portions to eat it separately, you're getting all three flavors in one bite, whether you like it or not. That's what you're getting here, too. There's vanilla and strawberry ice creams, yielding a strawberries n' cream-esque base, plus tons of firm, fudgy chocolate bits. Honestly, the cookie pieces are far and few between, to the point that neither Sonia nor I noticed them at all. We both wish there were significantly less chocolate and significantly more cookies.

The resulting conglomeration of the dual ice creams and chocolate pieces isn't an unpleasant flavor, but it's also not something I'd ever seek out on a regular basis. When I'm in the mood for chocolate, I'm in the mood for chocolate—but it's rare that I'll crave all three flavors at once.

Whenever I think of Neapolitan ice cream, I can't help but remember this classic Homer Simpson clip. He's really into the chocolate, obviously, but perhaps also appreciates the option of vanilla or strawberry if the mood should strike him. Or maybe he's just a lovable idiot. Either way, Neapolitan—or vanilla/chocolate/strawberry, if you prefer—is his go-to ice cream product. At least with the classic Neapolitan, you have the option to eat whichever flavor you prefer, or to mix them in whatever ratio you feel like at the moment.

If I were going to design a Neapolitan ice cream that's a mashup of all three constituent flavors, Trader Joe's-style, I'd throw in massive cookie chunks—maybe even whole Neapolitan Joe-Joe's cookies. I'd mix in real strawberry bits, and I'd keep the base strawberry-vanilla like they have it. I'd swirl in small ribbons of liquid chocolate syrup, and then I'd wave my magic wand and make it organic, non-dairy, fat-free, and I'd import it from Germany for no particular reason. Then I'd wave my magic wand again, discontinue the Neapolitan stuff, and bring back Lemon Triple Gingersnap Ice Cream and Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy. Also, I'd bring back Trader Joe's Energy Drinks, declare myself emperor of the world, and fly away on an enchanted unicorn. A boy can dream, can't he?

$2.99 for the pint. Three stars a piece on this one.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Beary Tiny Gummies

Mmmm. Beef byproducts—something I always look for in a candy.

Bovine gelatin. At least it's a certified organic bovine gelatin. Am I right? Also, I'll take cow gelatin over pork gelatin any day of the week. At least we've got the potential of being kosher here, too. Plus, it's French beef gelatin. Ooh la la. 

No, seriously. This product is imported from France. I couldn't tell you why it's imported from France. That seems to be the case with quite a few selections at Trader Joe's—they come from Europe or Asia when there's no obvious reason why they couldn't come from the good old US of A. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a big problem with European imports, I'm just waxing philosophical here. But that's probably not why you're reading this review. So let's talk about the candy for a moment.

First impressions: they're tiny, true to their name—like maybe half the size of a normal gummy bear. That just means you have to shovel twice as many into your mouth to get the same flavor impact as you might with traditional gummy bears.

There's a fresh citrusy smell and flavor to all the bears. The ingredients list mentions a bunch of fruit and vegetable juices which are there "for color." I'm pretty sure I can detect slight differences in the flavors, but I guess that's due to the unspecified "natural flavors." There's almost a grapefruit essence I'm tasting here. I kinda like it. These bears are extremely similar to the ones that had a "chocolate pool day" not long ago.

Sonia likes the taste even more than I do in this case. However, we both feel like gummies such as the T's and J's that employ tapioca syrup and corn starch not only taste better, but have a little less of a weirdness factor. Yes, I know most gummies contain gelatin—that's one of the many reasons we don't eat them that often, and one of the many reasons why the T's and J's were my favorite gummies of all time, bar none.

Final observations: there's a grotesque bear on the cover art cannibalizing other smaller bears. The bag has three servings, which could easily be consumed all at once, which, I believe is being demonstrated by said grotesque bear. 99 cents for the bag. 

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

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Banana & Almond Butter Protein Smoothie Beverage

I used to be in love with smoothies. I had Jamba Juice for dinner at least three or four nights a week when I lived in L.A. While living on the east coast, I missed my Jamba. There was exactly one location in the Philly area, but it wasn't at a convenient location for me.

Since Sonia and I have been traveling, we've found Jamba Juice in the most random locations: Utah, Idaho, and all over Washington State, among others. It's safe to say they have a much greater foothold out west. There still aren't enough locations, though, that we can have it with any regularity. So we're always sampling other brands of juice blends and smoothies.

This selection isn't bad if you're seeking a fast and easy protein source. The taste? It's nothing to write home about. Sonia almost never craves more sweetness, but she did in this instance. Considering "banana" is the first word in the title, I think there could have been a lot more banana flavor. That would have helped with the sweetness factor, as well as the overall taste.

It's really not terrible, either. You can taste a hint of banana flavor and there's definitely almond butter up in the mix, and something very...proteiny? My auto spell check is insisting that "proteiny" isn't a word. But it should be. Because it describes the finish of this beverage perfectly. It must be the "pea protein." Peas are never something I'm looking for in a smoothie. I know, I know. Pea protein is a thing. It's a good way to get protein in just about anything, I guess. I'm just not thrilled to see it here.

They've packed a fair amount of protein, good fat, and calories into a one pint bottle for three bucks. It's filling. It's not going to kill you. But for me to drink something like this with any consistency, it's just gotta taste a liiiiittle bit better than this. There's also a slight notion that "pureed gravel" is an ingredient, as far as the texture goes. I promise you there's no gravel in any form in there, but the back of my throat and tongue attest otherwise. Please note I said "pureed" gravel, not just plain gravel—basically, it's a bit chalky. It's really not that bad. I'm just good at complaining. 

Probably not a repeat purchase for us, but if you're looking for a compact, convenient drinkable lunch or supplement, it'll pass as a protein shake. I'll throw out three stars. Sonia will go half a star higher. 

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Creamy Cashew Cultured Yogurt Alternative

When I was a kid, my mother was nuts about nuts. She was also a little nutty. She passed her love of nuts on to me, as well as her nuttiness.

Cashews were always among her favorite, so I too developed an affinity for the oddly-shaped tree-borne seeds at an early age.

Significantly thicker than cashew milk and significantly thinner than cashew butter, we find ourselves looking at cashew yogurt. There's a substantial amount of innate cashew flavor here, so I would think an appreciation for, or at least tolerance of, cashews will be in order for this product.

Thinking about what I know of cashew butter, I assumed I'd like the vanilla bean flavor more. Call it confirmation bias, but my instincts were correct. Think of cool, runny cashew butter mixed with real vanilla flavor. It works, at least in my book.

Sonia liked the strawberry flavor a little more. I felt as if vanilla and cashew complemented one another while strawberry and cashew competed, if that makes sense. Sonia just appreciated the fruitiness of the latter and felt that there was a stronger overall flavor. I certainly didn't hate it, but I've never had a craving for a cashew butter and strawberry jelly sandwich ever in my life, and similarly, I doubt I'll ever get it in my mind to seek out strawberry cashew yogurt in the future, but who knows?

$1.69 per cup. This could be a bigger deal for lactose-intolerant people, vegans, or folks that have an aversion to almond or coconut milk yogurts than it is for us. But neither flavor is bad by any means. I'd pick up the vanilla flavor as a snack in the future. Sonia would consider a re-purchase of strawberry. I'll go a half star or so higher on vanilla bean, while Sonia will follow suit on the berry variety, so our scores will offset one another, yielding the same overall mark for both flavors.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Soft Baked Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

For a grocery store chain that's known for carrying exotic fare and maintaining at least a facade of healthiness, they sure roll out a lot of dang cookies. By a quick count, we've reviewed somewhere in the ballpark of 60 or 70 different types of Trader Joe's brand cookies on this blog alone. 

That's a lot of cookies, the vast majority of which aren't reduced guilt or low calorie or anything like that. If you click that link, it'll show you the results for searching "cookies" on this blog. Apparently some browsers are covering the additional pages of results with a banner ad. I'm looking at you, Google Chrome. Worked fine on Firefox for me. But most of you aren't going to wade through seven pages of cookie reviews spanning the past decade anyway. I wouldn't blame you. 

Because many of these cookie varieties aren't particularly memorable. A few are, but I highly doubt we'll agree on which two or three of those Trader Joe's baked goods we want to take to our desert island and survive on for the rest of our life.

Funfact: the cookie on the packaging is actual size. See pic above.

This particular offering isn't bad, but it's definitely not one of my desert island choices. And, I mean, I LOVE peanut butter. 

You can taste the peanut butter for sure. These are basically typical, everyday peanut butter cookies that happen to be full of chocolate chips. They're a little softer than your average peanut butter cookie, I guess, and perhaps a tad thicker, both of which are pleasant variations on the classic cookie. Still, I would have preferred them to be even softer, chewier. They're kind of crumbly and dry as they are. 

The flavor is fine. There is peanut butter and there is chocolate, but they never really come together in that special way that Reese's seem to. The bread part of the cookie seems oddly dominant, and there's a bit of an aftertaste.

Sonia seemed to like them more than I did, which was unexpected. She'll give these three and a half stars. I give 'em three.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chili Onion Crunch

In my neighborhood growing up, every couple years, PENNDOT would oil and chip all the street tops. It'd drive everyone in my family crazy. For me and my siblings, it was so much harder to bike on, and when your biggest source of income was an after-school paper route for which you needed to bike, it made for the rough juvenile equivalent of a hard day at the office. For my parents, it'd ding up the bottom of the cars and set my dad off on an occasional "this crap is what they do with my taxes??" rant (usually mild around us kids)...but I could tell it was just one more thing to aggravate the living heck out of them. As a parent now myself, I can understand it - one added thing atop of work, family, bills, taxes, whatever else. It'd set me off too.

Wait a minute though...kids delivering newspapers after school? Did I just date myself? I'm only in my mid-thirties I swear.

Anyways, oil and chips...kinda like Trader Joe's Chili Onion Crunch.

No, no, I'm not suggesting this newish product tastes like asphalt. Indeed, it's infinitely more suitable for a potluck rather than a pothole.

Just open it though. There's a huge pool of olive oil at the top. Stir it up, and you can hear all the crunchy tidbits swirling around. Crunchunchunchcrunch. It's absolutely audible, in some sort of edible slurry concoction. Dried onions. Dried garlic. More dried onions. Dried peppers. All literally swimming in oil in still crunchified state.

Needless to say, this is some oily, gritty stuff. I can absolutely see this being a textural stumbling block for some people. Sandy and I plopped some atop some grill-toasted baguette and it worked well as the bread sopped up the oil a bit leaving only the crunchers. Could work tossed in with some veggies or on some grilled chicken or pork, too. But something like eggs? No way, at least not in my book. Gritty eggs. Blecch.

And taste? Ehhh. The chili onion crunch got a little heat, that's for sure. It's more palpable if you get a heavy dose. But really, what the dominant flavor seems to be is the garlic. And it's not necessarily good garlic either, depending on your criteria. Karen, our favorite local TJ's employee, warned it was garlicky but "not in a good way" and I can see what she means. Garlic can either be strong and robust, or kinda "musty" for a lack of better word. This stuff strays towards the garlic stank and not the garlic strength. Any other flavor kinda fills in a little bit to give a little body to lead up towards the heat.

In the end, I think this could be one of those "a little goes a long way" type items. Add a little atop a burger, on some bread, mixed in with some grilled veggies or whatever, but just enough to get a little added flavor, and not enough to turn your dish into an oily, gritty, garlic-stanked dish. We'll use it for sure but I'm not yet convinced it's a repurchase. Set us back about $3 if I recall right.

Four spoons from the Mrs - she loved it more than I did. I'll be nice and give it a 3.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chili Onion Crunch: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Carrots of Many Colors

The grape carrots are my favorite, followed closely by the lemon carrots and cherry carrots.

I'm just kidding. There's only one flavor here: carrot. Carrot-flavored carrots are all the rage in some modern snacking circles, or so I've heard. This new Trader Joe's product is sure to be a hit with those folks.

For the rest of us, I'm not so sure.

The colors seem like a fun gimmick to get kids to eat more carrots. I know purple carrots exist naturally, and so do orange, yellow, and red. It's not like they added any extra colors here, which is always nice. In fact, they only added sea salt. Nothing else. Plus, they're organic. Unless you're on a salt-free diet, not many complaints can be filed in the "not healthy enough" department.

Texture-wise, they're super crunchy, crispy, brittle. Almost reminiscent of potato chips, they're just ever so slightly more airy...almost poofy in a way. There's a styrofoam quality about them. Sonia thinks they're exceedingly dry—like, unpleasantly devoid of moisture. I think they were kinda going for a dry feel when they decided to dehydrate the carrots, so...yeah. Dry. But that's not a dealbreaker for me.

The taste was less pleasant than the texture for me. And yes, I know what carrots taste like. But something happens to the flavor when they're dehydrated. I feel like that carroty flavor that we've all come to know and tolerate becomes a little more bitter than I'd like it to be. These carrot chips are even more planty and perhaps less sweet than they are in their normal, water-ful form. Also, they don't taste very salty at all. 310mg of sodium in the whole bag. 13% of your RDA. I guess that's not much salt. But it tastes even less salty than I was expecting. 

Sonia thinks they might lose some of their natural sugar when they're dehydrated, and I think she might be right on that one. $2.99 for the single serving bag, which could be stretched to more than one serving if you're sharing the bag with someone else and both of you are only moderately enjoying them and attempting to pawn the remainder of the bag off on the other. We both prefer raw carrots in the end.

Once again, three stars a piece.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Egg Frittata

Our travels have taken us to numerous large casino facilities throughout the American West over the past 6 months. We've probably stayed at a dozen or more since they generally offer free RV parking for a night or two. Many have hotels, restaurants, clubs, gas stations, and convenience stores all owned and operated by the same group of people, often a nation or tribe of Native American Indians. 

These complexes apparently generate a great deal of money, because even the convenience stores are huge, occasionally boasting vaulted ceilings and elaborate decor surrounding typical mini-mart fare like toaster pastries and bags of roasted peanuts.

Prior to purchasing this frittata product at Trader Joe's, but not long ago at all, Sonia wandered into just such a convenience store to discover a display full of fresh-baked pastries, quiches, and frittatas. The frittatas were actually frittata-bread hybrids, with the egg and cheese baked right into a buttery croissant. Anyway, the wifey picked up a couple of them, and we had them for breakfast a few weeks ago. They were absolutely scrumptious. A tad on the greasy side, they were full of flavor and left us both in comfort food heaven.

I might have had frittatas one or two other times in my life. I can't remember any of them vividly. But those Indian casino convenience store frittatas will linger in my memory for years to come. These Trader Joe's frittatas, not so much.

No, it's not fair to compare frozen, microwavable frittatas to fresh-baked ones—even ones baked in a glorified Quickie Mart. But I'm going to do that anyway, since that's my reference point. 

Honestly, the convenience factor here isn't bad. They come frozen, and after a few minutes in the microwave, voila, you've got a couple of frittatas for breakfast or whatever meal you're supposed to eat frittatas. Our major complaint is that they're a little on the bland side. They need some help. Hot sauce is in order here—or some kind of extra seasoning if you're not into hot and spicy foods for breakfast. There's nothing particularly unpleasant about the taste at all, but nothing particularly memorable, either.

The texture is fine. They seemed a bit more bready than just eggs alone usually do, probably due to the whey protein and cornstarch. They're soft and cheesy, but not overly so. I feel like they were in want of a bolder cheese, too. I like swiss okay, but this product might have worked a little better with cheddar. 

$2.99 for two frittatas, which the packaging even admits is only a single serving. There's a lot of saturated fat, cholesterol, and sodium for a product that doesn't really deliver in the flavor department. Probably not a repeat purchase for us, but a decent offering as far as uniqueness and ease of preparation are concerned. 

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.