Trader Joe's Fruit & Nut Log

The really short version: if you like dried fruit and pecans, you’ll love this thing.

The kinda short version: as Trader Joe states on the packaging, this product is basically a traditional pecan log, but with cranberries, apricots, and pistachios, too. They’re all rolled onto a nougat cylinder, making a “new festive holiday treat.” That’s accurate enough, I think. Plus, it’s kosher. Happy Hanukkah, friends!

I was surprised at how much Sonia loved this thing. I didn’t think she was a big dried fruit fan. But apparently, she’s been hiding that part of her identity from me. Now I know.

I, on the other hand, really like dried fruit. But I think I prefer just plain pieces of dried fruit to this holiday concoction from TJ’s. I have nothing against it. I guess I’m just a little freaked out by the massive quantity of creamy white nougat stuck between the fruit and nuts. Despite the nougatiness, this product is still relatively good-for-you. Please note that I said relatively good-for-you. People usually fall into one of two categories: (1) the group of people who wouldn’t even try this because they think it’s some kind of health food, and (2) the group of people who think I should be tarred and feathered for insinuating that a giant stick of glucose syrup is in any way “good-for-you.” I fall directly in between these two groups. The fruit and nuts are probably healthy, but the nougat…maybe not so much.

And if I’m going to eat something that’s not completely good for me, I want to eat something really, really tasty. And I’m probably going to eat a lot of it. This stuff was nice to try, but it wouldn’t be the dessert of my choice. I’d pick regular dried fruit for a snack, and then I’d pig out on pumpkin pie later on.

Sonia disagrees. She’d like to make this item a staple in our home for snacks, desserts, and not just for holidays. Sorry, Sonia. I think this is just a seasonal treat…

At any rate, she gives it 4.5 out of 5 stars. I give it 2.5.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Kona Coffee Shortbread Cookies

Okay, you probably know by know that we're just a couple amateur-hack food reviewers, which we proudly proclaim. But exactly how amateur-hack are we? While Nathan proclaims his love of 80 cent chicken pot pies, I'll admit that I have no idea how Kona coffee actually tastes. Never had it. I know it's supposed to be among the best coffee-types in the world, and there is a particular variant available at your friendly neighborhood Trader Joe's. And I know that costs about $20 a canister, which may or may not be a fair price for such sacred roasted beans, and while there's at least some folks who say it's good, I think I've heard or there that it's not worth the price. Normally, this would be something I'd investigate for the benefit of you all (like Nathan tackling that birdless bird last week - did it have vegan tryptophan for authenticity's sake?), but to be frank, I have better things to drop a Jackson on these days with a growing baby in the house. Plus, if you read enough of my other coffee reviews, you'll see I don't know much about coffee to begin with, so I'd have no intelligible opinion anyways.

But cookies? Yup, got those down. And when Trader Joe's has something with the long, tastebud-tingly name of "Kona Coffee Creamy Half-Dipped Shortbread Cookies," well, I can take the ol' college try and attempt to say something smart. Let's have a go, shall we?

I like them okay. But I want to like them more. Like, I really want to like them a lot more than I do. Really. The shortbread cookie part, by itself? Fantastic. Like the finest of shortbread cookie bounty upon the earth, these are melt-in-your-mouth crumbly wonders that satisfy the deepest of sweet tooth cravings. Absolutely, deliciously, sugarfully confection perfection. Love them. That's for the naked half. For the part clothed by the cream frosting....meh. Best way I can think of to describe it is, it's like when you pour too much cream into your coffee, so the cream:coffee ration is way out of whack and it leaves that sickly sweet-creamy flavor in your mouth. That's what I get on that side. All the good brought forth by the cookie gets lost in the frosting. I almost wanted to scrape it off. I probably should have. As for the "Kona coffee" part, both the cookie and the cream have actual ground Kona beans in them. This might be more an indication of my ignorance than an indictment of one of Hawaii's finest offerings, but it doesn't sway me much. There's certainly a nice coffee flavor in the shortbread, which I love, but you could tell me it's Folgers and I wouldn't bat an eye. Perhaps I lack the training to enjoy the nuances and subtlety. Or perhaps one cannot reasonably expect to experience all that is Kona coffee through a relatively simple cookie. Call that one as you see it.

All that being said, the package didn't lasted less than 24 hours in the house once Sandy and I cracked it. Given how yummerific the portion unspoiled by creamy excess is, we could probably binge out on them if we weren't sticking to the ascribed two-at-a-time. "They're just so good and crumbly, the texture's just so good," Sandy said. She also agreed with me about the creamy frosting, though, making it the only demerit in her mind. She says a four. Me? Drop a spoon lower. That's how* this particular cookie crumbles.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Kona Coffee Shortbread Cookies: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Do people still make the "*removes sunglasses*" joke?   

Trader Joe's Fresh Noodles and Gourmet Buffalo Chicken Meatballs

Ever make homemade spaghetti noodles? No, I'm not talking about using a Ronco presto-pesto auto-al dente pasta maker or even a Kitchen Aid mixer attachment (however in the h-e-double bendi-straw that would work) either. Sandy and I did once, using some old school handcranked pasta dough flattener/noodle cutter that should've been bolted to a work bench. That thing was a beast, and if we had any Italian grandmothers, I'm sure they would've been well pleased. But honestly, we weren't so enamored with the results. I mean, for all that work,I'd hope for something marginally better than the dried boxed variety, but alas, it was not to be.

So while homemade may always be the best, freshest option for just about anything, sometimes it's not a bad idea to leave it to the pros and try to settle for a second best option. Sandy and I bought Trader Joe's Fresh Noodles  with that at least partially in mind. I'm sure these have been around for a bit, but I've never spotted them until our last trip. TJ's apparently is making another experiment in noodle technology, this time to make a completely vegan noodle. Now, if they could make a organic, gluten-free vegan noodle...is that even possible, aside from subbing in some strips of tree bark? Anyways for these vegan delights, this naturally means no eggs, which is one the base ingredients for just about any type of dough. I guess that's why they tasted a little different. I don't mean different in a bad way, just....different. They're a little plainer tasting than even their usual semolina brethren, a little doughier, and while soggier isn't the right word, they seemed to somehow retain water a little differently, making them perhaps a little denser. I'm not sure that "al dente" is an option with these noodles, although even after our generously-sized dinners we have a full half of the package to experiment with. I'm not sure these will become a regular purchase of ours, but still, they're not a stray from the norm we regret. Maybe that Popeil fella's on to something after all.

Meanwhile, I'm almost positive that Trader Joe's Gourmet Spicy Buffalo Style with Blue Cheese Chicken Meatballs has to be a new product, because anything that has "Buffalo" and "Chicken" in its title increases its likelihood of purchase to nearly 100%. Seriously, if I saw Buffalo Chicken Owl Pellets for sale somewhere, I'd buy them and not think twice. Anyways, these meatballs, like most of TJ's spherical carne offerings, did not disappoint. They're fully cooked as is, and are in the fresh refrigerated section as opposed to the freezer aisles, and so all that's needed to get these ready for dinner is a few minutes in the oven. Although kinda dry and dusty-lookin' on the outside, inside the ground chicken remains just juicy enough, and also maintains a lot of freshness. Not only that, but they're fairly spicy as well. Granted, at the risk of alienation of some of the masses, they could be just a tad spicier, but that's not too much of a demerit in my mind. Too many times when there's bleu/blue cheese that gets tossed into the Buffalo chicken product at the factory level, the overwhelming flavor is the cheese. Not with these albóndigas de pollo picante. The blue cheese is more of a sidenote/accessory flavor while the spiciness takes center stage. That's the way it oughtta be. Count me as a fan.

I got in the habit during college of just splashing some Frank's Red Hot on a bowl of noodles and calling that and a beer "dinner." Somehow this has lasted all the way into my married life, with Sandy completely joining in, so our noodle 'n spicy chicken meatball dinner was something right up our respective alleys. To be fair, it could have used something, like a little mozzarella or some extra hot sauce, but we don't have much of a problem with the respective components as is. Sandy gives a "three...no, maybe three 'n a half" for the "not bad" eggless wonder noodles, while giving the Buf-fowl-o balls a four "because they could be a little spicier." I'll match her on the noodles and up by half a spoon for the meatballs.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Fresh Noodles: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Gourmet Spicy Buffalo Style with Blue Cheese Chicken Meatballs: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
     

Trader Joe's Mesquite Smoked Seasoned Almonds

Sometimes I don't really know how to start a review. This is one of those times. I asked Sandy how I should as she sits beside me making a Pittsburgh Steelers-themed tutu for lil Baby M, and she said, "Awwwwww nuts." So, boom, there we go.

Anyways, Trader Joe's Mesquite Smoked Seasoned Almonds. The best way I can think of to describe these is, imagine Sam Elliot personally shaking out his mustache over each and every bag of roasted almonds, and that approximates how these taste. Minus the whiskers, of course. That'd be a pretty big Golden Spoon deduction. These are some pretty intense nuts as far as flavor goes. I'll be honest, I'm not able to identify all the different spices that each almond is liberally dusted with, because it's literally everywhere. You know that one Cheeto in the bottom of the bag that has all the extra Cheeto dust? Each and every nut is kinda like that - my tastebuds are literally overwhelmed by the bombardment of spices and flavors, but all of them definitely flow along the line of "mesquite" and "smoked". And salty. I mean, real salty. Seasoned salt has to be one of the big ingredients, and literally after a small handful or two, I find myself pretty darn thirsty, maybe for some more of that good sarsaparilla. Thanks, Sam Elliot.They're flavorful and dust-coated enough that I'd actually recommend sticking to eating them more or less by themselves - put them in some trail mix or Chex Mix or something, and they'd probably overpower everything else.

They're about 5 bucks for the pounder bag, which isn't bad for a bag of nuts these days. I probably ate about 90%  of the package, which is okay with Sandy as she kept herself busy with her sackful of pumpkin seeds. She liked them well enough, though. "They're very mesquite-y, and super crunchy," she said. "Like, you know how sometimes almonds aren't crunchy and they're kinda, like, soggy instead?" Soggy almonds? No dear, I don't know what you mean. Sometimes almonds are crunchier than other times, but I've never once had something that I'd describe as a "soggy" almond. Perhaps you have, though, and my wife wants to assure you that will not be the case here. She'll give them a three, saying the nuts can be a bit too much after just a small handful or two. I agree they could take a small step back and actually stand to gain from that. Other than that, I like the crunch and I like that just a handful or two will keep the stomach grumbles away for a good spell. Something around a four seems right.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mesquite Smoked Seasoned Almonds: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Pecan Pumpkin Oatmeal

Let's face it: in our modern society, pumpkins and pumpkin-flavored stuff is available year round, or at least it could be. All of the pumpkinnery you see at this time of year is more due to the demand for it, rather than the seasonal availability of pumpkins.

But I'm not really complaining. There's something about pumpkin that's only really good between October and December. Pumpkin's not really a February/March kind of flavor. And it's definitely not a June/July kind of flavor. So every year, at the beginning of the season, I begin consuming massive quantities of pumpkin-flavored things that I wouldn't normally buy. That way, the novelty-factor of said pumpkin-items is very high through the middle of November or so, and yet, by the end of December, I'm so sick of pumpkin that I can go for another 9 months without missing it at all.

Now, we've been pretty heavy on the pumpkin this year so far, and we're almost reaching that midway point through the 3-month season of acceptable pumpkin-consumption. I'd like to tell you I'm not pumpkinned out at all yet, and that our scores are thoroughly fair, unbiased, and objective, but realistically, the Pumpkin Macarons might have had a bit of an advantage over this oatmeal. We're not taking back our perfect score on the macarons just yet, but I feel like maybe we might have given this oatmeal a slightly higher score had we tried it right at the beginning of October.

Our biggest complaint about this product is its lack of rich pumpkin flavor. We found that a spoonful of TJ's Pumpkin Butter added a nice little extra dose of pumpkinny goodness. Without it, there's a hint of pumpkin, but not much more. (It is possible that our tastebuds have achieved some sort of pumpkin-overload at this point and that we simply can't taste it as much as the average consumer anymore). However, the pecan flavor and a few actual pecans gave the oatmeal a really nice texture and taste—a little above and beyond what we expect from traditional oatmeal.

All in all, it's a decent buy if you think pecan oatmeal sounds good. If you're really craving pumpkin, however, don't expect too much. Sonia, a self-proclaimed oatmeal connoisseur, gives it 3.5 stars. I dabble in oatmeal from time to time, but I'm far from an expert. I'll give it a respectable 3 stars.

Bottom line 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's In Shell Pumpkin Seeds

Just over five years ago, Sandy and I had our first unofficial date, and me being the euphemistically labelled romantic guy, I still have us a little souvenir from the first magical night: a plastic baggie of pumpkin seeds. It was a few weeks before Halloween and I figured, why not carve pumpkins with this cute chick who I just somehow convinced to start talking with me? This, of course, was kinda neglecting the fact that when I get nervous, my hands get all sweaty, thereby making holding sharp objects not that best of ideas, but, well, you know, gotta do what you gotta do, right?

Anyways, yeah, I still have the seeds we roasted from that first pumpkin. What I thought I'd eventually eat as a nice little snack just may end up as a family heirloom. I'm sure my almost four-month old daughter can't wait for those! We've roasted pumpkin seeds plenty of times since then, only to eat them in quick succession. That's a lot of work though - cutting the hole, scooping out, pulling the orangey goo strands from the seeds, roasting them, etc - that between everything this past fall, we just haven't done so yet, much to our chagrin. Homemade are always the best.

Well, for a consolation prize we got Trader Joe's In Shell Pumpkin Seeds. They're pretty much what one should expect from a bag of pumpkin seeds. All they are is dry-roasted with a little salt, so nothing too utterly special. There's the usual good qualities of roasted seeds - a little nutty, a little earthy, even a little sweet like pumpkin seeds ought to be. There's a few of them still with a little pumpkin gut still attached and charred on, but much less than what you'd have in a typical homemade batch. The one thing I liked about them that I didn't expect is how fresh they taste. Seriously, I've bought some before which were so stale I could've confused with my daughter's inheritance. That's not the case here. They're highly munchable, and a snack equally as good for either pairing with a beer or having in the car for a driving snack....just don't do all three at a time. Drive safe, all.

There's been times I've witnessed Sandy glancing squinty-eyed all over the pumpkin patch while diabolically uttering the phrase "I want your seeds, man", so believe me when I say she likes pumpkin seeds. She's said most of what I said above, but noted that when they're homemade, she likes roasting them a scant more to ever-so-slightly burn them for slightly bigger crunch. She'll shell out a 4 for these while gently reminding me that hey, we gotta make our own soon. Yes, love. In the meantime, I'll munch on these fairly happily and give them a 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's In Shell Pumpkin Seeds: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sliced Smoked Gouda and Artisan Reserve Vermont Cheddar

So there's this shirt that I wear pretty often on casual Fridays at work that's absolutely ridiculous and a constant conversation starter. It's black, with a big white printed logo on it that says "Wisconsin Cheese Cupid." "Cheese Cupid?," people ask all the time. "What the heck does that mean?" It's the name of some cheese pairing app that was giving away free shirts on Facebook yonder back that I just happened to stumble across and against better judgment click on only to completely forget about until the package arrived on my doorstep about three months later. The shirt's been a showstopper since. As for the app...well...it seems to indicate that every type of Wisconsin-originated cheese goes with just about everything, so, to me at least, it doesn't appear all that helpful.

In part because of this shirt, and in part because of my unabashed love of Trader Joe's (which does have a pretty great cheese selection), a lot of folks around me seem to think that I'm some sort of residential cheese expert. Far from it, I say. I know what I like and I know what I don't. I like the fresh mozzarella balls from places like PennMac right down the street from me in Pittsburgh's Strip District. I don't like Kraft singles and their various generic knockoffs. As far as TJ's stuff, though, to be honest, I haven't branched out much from the pretty typical sliced and shredded options. Admittedly, most of the few times I have, whether it's been this incredulous mad scientist concoction, or some waxy hole-y colby-esque grossness, I haven't been too impressed.

Until recently, at least. Let's start with the Trader Joe's Sliced Smoked Gouda. Oh man. This, friends, puts the good in gouda. Let me count the ways. Melted on top a freshly grilled burger? Yes. How about over a bowl of homemade potato soup? Absolutely. Straight as is? No doubt. But the very best way I found to enjoy this has to be as a grilled cheese sandwich with a little raspberry mango jam spread over top. Absolutely heavenly. I love the deep, smokey, rich flavor, I love the thick-cut slices, I love how the wax holds all the melty goodness in place so none goes to waste. Heck, I even love the price. $2.99 for a half pound? That's about the going rate for the cheapie yellow American at the local chain's deli counter, and this is much, much, much better. If you like gouda, this is a surefire winner. I don't really have the right vocab to really explain how good it is, or what exactly makes it so good, but I know good gouda when I taste it, and I'm tasting it with each bite of this.  There is not a single complaint that can be made here that I can think of. 

As for Trader Joe's Artisan Reserve Vermont Cheddar, I go a little back and forth. It's far from being bad cheese, no doubt, but as one of my coworkers stated today, "it sounds an awful lot of fancy marketing for just a hunk of cheese." I think she may be right. I've been to the Cabot factory and outlet stores in Vermont and eaten enough of their free samples to know what to expect from a chunk of Green Mountain state Cheddar, and this just isn't quite it. It's seems to me it should be a lot sharper for purportedly being aged for three years, and it also strikes me as being kinda creamy-tasting. Don't get me wrong, it's plenty sharp, but I've had a lot sharper in my day. I know there's a bazillion decent uses for a block of cheese like this, but so far Sandy and I have just sliced ourselves little bits to chomp them on down. If not for opting for the gouda in the aforementioned potato soup, some of this all shredded up would have been a fairly delectable option. It's the same price as the gouda, which makes it almost an equally good value in my book.    

Sandy's about an equal fan of both, giving them a three each. "I don't have a lot else I can compare them with, so I think they're both pretty good, I just don't know how good," she said. Fair enough, I suppose, although I occasionally hear her randomly utter about the gouda. Me? I gotta go with a full-handed five for the gouda, and I'll play nice and say a four for the cheddar.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Sliced Smoked Gouda: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Artisan Reserve Vermont Cheddar: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Mexicaine Quiche

I'm not sure why TJ's decided to spell "Mexican" with a built-in homage to the cocaine cartels in Juarez. Neither Sonia (who is Mexican-American) nor I are familiar with this bizarre spelling. I guess it makes the product fancier. I'm also fond of mispronouncing "quiche" on purpose, like "kwitch-y." So, at our house, this product became "TJ's Mexi-Cocaine Kwitchy" because I'm weird like that. At any rate, we decided to sample this product and review it for you.

We followed the instructions for a conventional oven. Everything came out cooked to perfection except for the egginess in the middle. It was still too wet. The outer-crust was beginning to blacken and char, and yet the middle was a little too raw—but not to the point that we couldn't eat it.

The product has a fair amount of egg-omelette flavor and there's a hint of mild Mexican peppers. The crust was great. It reminded me of a homemade pie crust. But overall, this quiche is on the bland side. Have salt, pepper, and the hot sauce of your choice on stand-by when and if you decide to cook up this dish.

It's in the ballpark of $3. I don't remember the exact price, I can't find our receipt, and anyway, prices may vary from region to region. It strikes me as being pretty small for a $3 quiche. A grown man could easily eat the whole thing and still be a bit hungry...and holy crap! Just as I'm writing this I glanced at the nutrition information. I don't think a full day's worth of saturated fat is something that most of us are looking for in a small treat from Trader Joe's.

Originally, as I ate it, it was just yummy enough to garner 3.5 stars from me. After thinking about its economic value and its fat content, I think I'll downgrade that to an even 3 stars. Sonia gives it 3 as well, adding "That is a little bland for a Mexican dish. It should have more pepper flavor and more kick."

But don't get me wrong, if you're looking for a breakfasty comfort food omelette-thing, I'd still say it's better than most greasy-spoon diner egg-based dishes. This one's definitely not a must-buy...more like a "might-try."

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Filled with Speculoos Cookie Spread

In a recent post, I mentioned that Sonia and I aren't in the habit of purchasing random chocolate bars from the checkout at TJ's. That was a big lie. On our last Trader Joe's run, we did just that. After the success of such items as the Speculoos Cookie Butter and other dark chocolate candy bars like this one, we decided this little snack might be worth a purchase.

This chocolate bar was tasty. But the two main ingredients didn't blend together quite like I had hoped they would. For those of you who've tried the Cookie Butter, you know that it's pretty sweet and has a good bit of taste, but the rich, bitter tang of the dark chocolate was enough to virtually drown out the speculoos' flavor. It's not that they skimped on the Cookie Butter here. Just looking at each chocolate square, you'd think the gingerbread sweetness of the speculoos would be the dominant flavor...but sadly, it isn't. There was a hint of creaminess in each little chocolate square, but it still felt and tasted basically like a regular dark chocolate bar—not unlike this one. 

So really, it's a pretty safe purchase as long as you're a fan of dark chocolate. Even if you don't like gingersnap type flavors, I don't think there's enough in there to ruin the chocolatiness. But if you're hoping for big bursts of that TJ's Speculoos Cookie Butter that you've come to know and love, you might find this chocolate bar falls short of its potential. I'd really like to try the same thing with white chocolate or milk chocolate instead of dark. I think the flavors might blend a little better. And a bit more cookie butter couldn't hurt, either.

Sonia gives this little treat a 3.5. Me too.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Cinnamon Apple Snack Sticks

From what I can gather, unlike most of you, I don't get all that much into the pumpkin-everything craze every fall. Sure, I'll enjoy a slice of pumpkin pie or the occasional pumpkin beer, but yeah, pumpkin this, pumpkin that, pumpkin this-other-thing and pumpkin-that-other thing? Meh. I guess I'm the anti-Linus, not in search of the Great Pumpkin. In the autumn I get much more excited about crockpot goodies like potato soup and chili and pretty much anything on my second favorite blog ever.

For the fall time, if I had to say I'm excited about any seasonal fruit or vegetable, I'd choose apples. Yeah, I know, they're not "seasonal" in the traditional sense like pumpkins, but you know what I mean. Going apple picking. Apple sauce. Apple cider (or as my four year old nephew calls it, "apple-spider juice"). Apple crisp. Apple pie. Now, that I can get behind.

As for Trader Joe's Cinnamon Apple Snack Sticks, I can get behind them too. Don't get me wrong - they're not nearly as good as any of those aforementioned tasty treats. But, like anything else, they have a time and a place. And get this: they're made from real apples, too. Sure, they're all pureed up and tossed into a multigrain mix, but they're in there, with the sweet, slightly tart taste poking through here and there. Tastewise, using Apple Jacks as a base comparison, these snack sticks are probably at least ten times more actually apple-y. Add in the cinnamon that's liberally blasted on each stick, and the end result is a pretty munchable treat that's a much welcome break from the norm.

Count me as a fan. These will be making my list as a repeat buy, even if Sandy's not as big a fan as I am. "They could be a lot more apple-y," she says. I'm not sure if that's completely accurate for a snack food that's in a similar vein as Funyuns, except, well, better. She does note they'd go well with a bowl of vanilla ice cream or a mug of hot cider. Now you're talking, sweetie. Her score's a measly 2.5. For me, I like the well-balanced taste between the apples and the grains and the cinnamon, yet they're not addictive enough I feel like I have to eat them handful after handful. They're not a bad treat at all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cinnamon Apple Snack Sticks: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons        

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Butter

We both eyed the pumpkin butter from the middle of the aisle, peering over a number of other TJ's shoppers scurrying by. One other woman did a double take as she perused the jellies and syrups. It seemed the pumpkin butter aroused curiosity more than anything else. As Sonia and I debated whether to buy and review the item, one question rose up in our minds, "What would go well with pumpkin butter?"

For that reason, the jar has no fewer than 6 different suggestions for how to serve the product within. They recommend using it in soup, on ice cream, or as a poultry glaze, among others. Its uniqueness is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, TJ's Pumpkin Butter is versatile enough that you can use it to make almost anything taste like pumpkin. On the other hand, even if you find a bunch of different foods that you want to make taste like pumpkin, you find yourself doing little more than experimenting with a culinary tool that you're barely familiar with and don't fully understand. It's kind of like the Twitter of the kitchen-world: obviously there's a lot of potential there...but ultimately, what's the point?

Furthermore, if you wanted something like pumpkin ice cream, for example, it would probably be best to just buy Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream—a product whose pumpkin-properties have been balanced and blended by professional ice cream folks, rather than creating your own haphazard version using Pumpkin Butter and whatever you've got kicking around in your freezer. Although some people might prefer creating their own ice cream so they can tailor the mixture to suit their own tastes...

Texture-wise, the product is not unlike apple butter. There's pureed pumpkin, sugar, and honey. It's very sweet, but traditional pumpkin spices are definitely there. We tried it on toast. It's okay by itself, but we found that the most palatable way to eat it was with some cream cheese. Not wanting to waste time, energy...and potentially food, we steered clear of creating things like Pumpkin Butter and sour cream soup. And I'm pretty sure our Thanksgiving turkey this year will not be basted in this stuff.

I can't deny that there's something fascinating about it. It's good to try something new once in a while. But I just can't figure out what niche this product should fill in my diet. It's certainly no replacement for apple butter, jams, or jellies. It's just a bit of novelty. Three stars.

Sonia feels the same way, but because all things pumpkin remind her of autumn, her favorite season, she couldn't help but enjoy it. She almost gave it four stars, but decided on three and a half.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Spinach & Kale Pie

If you're a fan of Trader Joe's Spinach and Kale Greek Yogurt Dip, and were ever like "Dude, I really wish I could eat something like this in a pie," guess what? Your prayers have been answered.

Although, I really wonder if the word pie was the best choice in this case. "Pastry" would seem to be slightly more accurate to me, but I've petitioned for that coveted Trader Joe's product-naming position repeatedly over the past few years and have yet to receive a response, so what do I know?

At any rate, this item turns out pretty well when cooked in the oven. It's extraordinarily flaky. Like, explosively flaky. Little bits of the crust wound up all over the table and floor as I crunched away each piece with my fork. But I was pleased with the taste. The crust was lightly buttery and croissant-like, flavor-wise.

The filling was very similar to the aforementioned spinach dip. And as was the case with the spinach dip, I definitely tasted spinach, but I really couldn't tell you if I tasted kale. Even after multiple dishes containing kale, I'm still not really sure if I know what it tastes like. That could be partly due to its blandness (but let's be kind and use the term "subtle flavor" instead). Or it may be due to the fact that kale and spinach are so similar in texture, flavor, and color, that it's completely pointless to put both of them into the same food together, except maybe to add a bit of exoticness to the name of the product. The only major difference between the spinach dip and the filling of this pastry is the absence of Greek yogurt in the latter.

With or without yogurt, spinach and kale would seem to be a healthy food choice. For a diet like mine, it might be a step in the right direction for the green roughage alone, but this particular item is chock full of sodium and saturated fat. The pie is pretty large, but not so large that a normal serving size is 1/6 of it. 1/4 of the pie seems a more realistic serving size to me, but you know how mathematically-creative people can be when drawing up the numbers for that Nutrition Facts column.

I think it's worthy of three stars. Sonia's going with three and a half on this one. Not bad.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's All Butter Shortbread Cookies

When I was a young, strapping lad, I nearly qualified for the Olympics in the very popular event of Underwater Basket Weaving. They called me a phenom in the sport, but an unfortunate sprained left thumb prevented me from fulfilling my dreams. Now, watching the 2012 London Olympic games reminded me of those days and the dietary restraints that I, and indeed all such athletes (except for that robust-looking American sharpshooter lady) must deal with. In celebration that I no longer must repress my sweet tooth to such a degree, I decided to indulge on these shortbread cookies while enjoying the spectacle of the fittest humans in existence competing on the world's biggest stage and performing feats of athletics that even great warriors such as I could scarcely perform in my prime.

Apparently, each tiny cookie has approximately 11% of your daily saturated fat. Each cookie. Talk about indulgent. The good news is, they taste like they have 11% of your daily saturated fat. In other words, they're worth it...almost.

Sonia wanted them to be "softer." I'm not sure what she means by that. They're not hard. They're made of shortbread, and they have the consistency of shortbread. Really buttery shortbread. We both wanted them to have more fruit filling because we both like raspberry and apricot fruit stuff. But fortunately for raspberry and apricot-haters, a love of those two fruits is not requisite for loving the taste of these cookies, because you can barely taste the fruit. There's a slightly gelatinous texture in the center of each cookie, but any fruit flavor that might be there is slathered in a pound of butter and lost in the sweet cookie goodness.

In short, these guys are a nice treat for a party or something, but if we had these in the cupboard on a regular basis, I'd weigh 300 pounds. And honestly, I'm not sure if I'd want to waste my precious allocation of fat and calories on something with such a one-dimensional flavor. A big boost in the fruit department would have helped these cookies immensely. I give 'em a 3. Sonia gives them 3.5.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn

Growing up, my family definitely went through a Smartfood* popcorn phase. But it wasn't just my folks and us four kiddos. Our cat loved it, too. I'll admit, I don't recall if it was Greta or Cleo, but whichever feline it was, she couldn't get enough of it. She'd almost beg like a dog for it, and if you dropped a kernel on the floor, you had no chance (we were all strong proponents of the five second rule). Know Cartman's cat and his chicken pot pies? Totally plausible, except for our cat it was Smartfood. Back then, Smartfood would put little customer stories on the back of their bags, and so we wrote the company about it, along with some photgraphic evidence. I don't believe our story was ever deemed baggy-reading-material-worthy (probably because I wrote it, and it was way too long. Go figure.), but they still sent us a whole case of Smartfood. A whole freakin' case. We ended up eating so much of it (we also believed in not wasting food) that by the time the last little crumbles in the last sackfull danced down into our tummies, I don't think we ever bought it again. I certainly haven't.

Anyways, sorry to continue the snack food phase we're doing here, but as the pile of other folk's ceramic dishes and Tupperware on our kitchen table attest to, we're being very well fed right now as Sandy, Baby M and I are adjusting to being a family of three. Such a blessing. I'm loving all the homecooked meals made in somebody else's oven. We would've had kids earlier if we knew we'd be eating so well.

My one buddy (same guy who tipped me off to the best chocolate bar in the world) and his wife stopped over a few nights back, and, among the homebaked bread, fresh fruit and chicken avocado spread (delicious!), they snuck in a bag of Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn. Even though it's not something I wouldn't have bought on my own, I figure, it's in my house, it's a freebie, it's probably good, so why not review it?

I'll start with the good...not that there's really anything bad. It's perfect texture-wise - kinda pillowy, kinda Styrofoamy, and very munchable. That I like. Cheddarwise, it's alright, too. Kinda sharp but...there's just not enough. I seem to remember Smartfood being coated all over the place, with the white powdery residue caking onto your fingers no matter what you did. These kernels have one foot in the plain world, the other in the cheddar world. It's true as we get towards the bottom of the bag, that may change. I suppose one could choose to have the snooty, pinkie-in-the-air attitude that the popcorn is so much more refined this way. I choose not to, and that's coming from a guy who hasn't had white cheddar popcorn in years, and pretty much hates the orangey cheesy variety. Maybe I miss Smartfood more than I thought. Maybe I'll check the vending machine at work sometime and find out.

There's nothing all that bad with the popcorn. Sandy and I will eat it all and be happy enough. It's just there's not enough right with it. I think that may be a classic Trader Joe's problem with some products - they pull off enough unexpected surprises that it's a bit of a letdown when one of the more basic items is average at best. Sandy said she'd like it more if they were either more or less cheddar. I think I'd side on the "more" side. There's enough other Trader Joe popcorn varieties that you'll find another one or two that might fit the bill a little bit better. Put the two of us down with some matching 3s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Why the heck is it named Smartfood anyways? It's packaged powder-cheese popcorn for goodness sake. While not a dumb idea, that doesn't seem overly intelligent, either. Does buying it make you a genius? Did Einstein invent it? What a silly name. Next thing you know they'll name something Skinny Fries...wait, what?

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Tracks Ice Cream

This ice cream isn't bad, but it feels like Trader Joe is trying to imitate Ben & Jerry with this one.

Dairy Free Mochi is unique and Trader Joe-esque. Stuff like Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream is simple enough to avoid comparison with Ben & Jerry. And, of course, the Lemon and Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream is by far the best example of what we've seen Trader Joe's do with ice cream. It isn't particularly simple, but it somehow gives off an air of delicateness. And, while somewhat indulgent, it's more of a dessert you'd expect to find at the end of a five course meal in a fine-dining establishment, as opposed to something a gluttonous fat man would scarf down in between the tilt-a-whirl and the tractor pulls at the East Bumblehump County Fair.

This product, however, is a shade closer to the latter. Fortunately for this item's score, I'm no slender sophisticate, and I've enjoyed the aggravated roar of a souped up Massey Ferguson or two in my day. But I do have to say, despite its terrible name, I prefer Chubby Hubby to these Peanut Butter Tracks any day of the week.

I guess the name is a play on "moose tracks." Moose tracks has little peanut butter cups in vanilla ice cream, and that's exactly what this is. I suppose the peanut butter cups are intended to resemble muddy footprints of the large woodland mammals in a blanket of white-ish snow. There's also supposed to be swirls of caramel. Sonia and I both agreed that TJ's skimped on the caramel. But to me, that was of little concern.

I did enjoy the copious quantities of little peanut butter cups, and the vanilla wasn't bad...but it wasn't stellar either. My biggest complaint is just that the whole thing didn't blend together as perfectly as Ben & Jerry's stuff. There's just something so ingenious about their flavors. Somehow Trader Joe captured that kind of cohesiveness with his Lemon Triple Ginger Snap ice cream, but not with this. This really isn't even as good as other brands of moose tracks that I've tried.

But again, it's cold, it's sweet, and there's enough peanut butter in it to make it somewhat rich and filling. Sonia says it's worthy of a 3.5. I think 3 stars is generous enough.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Wild Blueberry Pie

Since the Fourth of July is right around the corner, we'll go ahead and review this American picnic classic: blueberry pie. Perhaps it's not as stereotypically American as apple pie, but it's made with real Maine blueberries, and if you serve it on a traditional tablecloth like the one in the photo to the left, you've got an authentic slice of Americana, complete with red, white, and blueberry pie.

Upon first bite, I was a little disappointed with the texture and taste of the crust. It's a poor imitation of homemade, it lacks uniqueness, and while I wouldn't call it "stale," it's way too stiff to feel like it's even approaching "fresh." Plus, it's entirely bland.

The blueberries were a shade more exciting. Hundreds of perfect little blueberries in a subtly-sweet, semi-syrupy sauce saved the flavor of this pie. Coming straight out of the fridge, however, there was still an overall firmness that left me feeling like I was munching on something that fell a great deal short of the high standards I hold TJ's to.

Sonia microwaved her second piece for twenty seconds or so, and claimed that it greatly improved the pastry. I followed suit, and wouldn't you know it—the pie took a giant leap in the direction of delicious. Still, the crust couldn't be redeemed entirely, but the smoothness of the blueberry elements all but made up for it.

Could be if you tried this pie at an actual outdoor picnic that the hundred degree temperatures would have a similar effect as twenty seconds in the microwave. But served cold or warm, it's still a far cry from fresh-baked. However, keeping in mind that it's ready-made, sitting on a shelf, and only about $5 for a whole pie, we'll be merciful when we give our scores.

Sonia and I are on the same page with this one. 3 stars a piece. Not bad.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Bistro Biscuits

I'm generally not big on hard, dry cookies...or "biscuits" if you must—but these crisp caramelized treats are one of a handful of exceptions to that rule. My initial impulse was to compare these cookies with Barnum's Animals crackers, which everyone knows are the creme dela creme of the animal cracker kingdom, far superior to even those with nifty pink frosting that come in giant bags. These biscuits reflect the quality and good taste of the Barnum's Animals, but possess a slightly more complex flavor. There's an essence of gingerbread present—and the word "caramelized," used on the packaging, has a certain propriety in this case, so long as you're not thinking of caramelized onions as I unfortunately do whenever I hear the word "caramelized."

After trying several of these dessert-ish biscuits, I was overcome with a shameful impulse... I wanted to put Speculoos Cookie Butter on them. And I did. For those of you with a severe simple sugar deficiency, that combo may well just be the cure that you're looking for. It's intensely sweet and gingery, and it'll send your system into sugar shock in the blink of an eye, and will cause a four-alarm fire in your mouth that only a good glass of milk can put out. Hours later, independently of me, after just a bite or two, Sonia was struck with the same impulse to slather her biscuits with cookie butter. Like me, she quickly satisfied both her contemptible culinary craving and her recommended weekly allowance of sugar in one fell swoop.

Flavor-wise they're winners, but again, their dryness begs for milk or coffee or tea. Did you ever, just sheerly out of curiosity, try a dog biscuit in your youth? I know I did. And it was never the taste that revolted me, it was always the texture—the dryness. It's like that with these Bistro Biscuits, except that they're way better than most dog biscuits. Both texture and flavor. Way better. I guess the dog biscuits are a really bad comparison to make. Nevermind that then. Please disregard this paragraph.

Sonia liked them a lot. With or without cookie butter. She gives them a 4. They remind her of actual British biscuits. She's had the real thing. I'll give them a 3. They're tasty little buggers, but again, I don't think they're particularly great as a stand-alone food. Check them out if you're into the whole "dunking" thing. And definitely try them with cookie butter, but have extra insulin standing by.

P.S. - These biscuits are vegan.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams

There's an old adage for us scribes that's been passed down over the generations: Write what you know. That was drilled into my head while getting a journalism degree at Penn State, and it obviously makes a great deal of sense. If you don't know anything about the subject matter you're writing about, it shows as blatantly as a glass of wine spilled on a white sofa. As proof, you should see the articles I wrote covering collegiate rugby for Penn State's Daily Collegian.

Or you can just continue reading this review about Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams. I'm not sure how many times I've had clams in my life, but it's probably in the single digits, and almost assuredly every other time they've been deep-fried. Plus, my history with canned seafood is more or less restricted to tuna fish, which I'll admit, I absolutely hate. The smell kinda grosses me out, and when growing up whenever my mom opened a can our kitty cat would run up begging for a bite, only to barf it up two minutes later. I'm sure there's a lot worse things to put in a can (oh yeah there is - viewer discretion advised) but it's not how I'd choose to get my seafood. The way I figure it, though, is if Trader Joe's can reasonably impress (or at least not totally gross out) a canned clam rookie, that must mean they're reasonably good. Alternatively, of course, they could be absolutely terrible, but if I don't know any better, then I'm completely off-base. Readers, you're going to have to be the judge here.

On to the clams. Hmm. So that's what a whole unbreaded/unfried clam looks like when the shell gets shucked. Umm...interesting. Gulp. At least it's kinda hard to make out where the face is, so I feel less guilty. To me, the clams kinda taste how they smell, which I mean as a compliment. I grew up going to Maine and visiting the coast there, so the gritty, salty, briny, mineral-ly, rocky aroma that permeates each bite is actually fairly pleasant in its own way. Yeah, they kinda taste like Maine, and I freakin' love that state. To keep with my theme of ignorance, I'm going to assume that the "cherrystone" part of the name refers to the dark center of gutsy matter that's in the clam's main body, because in no other way to me do these remind me of either a cherry or a stone. As I kinda suspected they would be, the clams are a little chewier than I'd like, but then again, it's a whole skeletonless animal.

Sandy and I had these with dinner with a box of lemon pepper clam linguini we unearthed a little while back while tearing apart and putting our kitchen back together. I think at first I pushed to make it with shrimp instead, but since the pasta box said "clam", Sandy insisted we couldn't. It had to be clams, thus forcing our purchase ($1.99 a can). In a way, that turned out to be a good thing, as we've found out we need to be a little more intentional about iron in her diet in the last couple days/weeks/however long before our lil' baby decides to make his/her appearance (due in just a few weeks! We're getting our hospital bag packed!). Anyways, both Sandy and I feel about the same about them - decent enough, but no strong feelings one way or the other, mostly because we don't know any better. We'll be fair and give it a solid "not bad."

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's S'mashing S'mores

Hope y'all had a good Memorial Day Weekend! Obviously, there's some deeper meanings to the holiday, but probably like a lot of you, I was flat out busy doing stuff around the house for the bulk of the weekend. How busy? Well, let's just say that if such a thing as a human male nesting instinct is ever discovered, I might be considered Patient Zero for it. It's a just a few more weeks before our kiddo arrives, so it was clean the oven, stain and assemble the baby furniture, do this and that and this and...you get the point. I spent entirely too much time (and too many dollars) at Home Depot. I'm just glad I had the chance for some quality time with the wifey, a couple cookouts with friends and family, and also, finally, got the grill working again in time for some tasty grilled mahi mahi the other night. All in all, I can't really complain about the weekend, especially since I also have today (Tuesday) off, and plan to mainly kick back and relax.

Anyways, maybe some of you went camping this weekend. I'm not jealous of you either. I got my camping fix out of the way a few weekends ago with my dad and brothers. Plus, as we all know, one of the best parts of camping is making s'mores, and if I wanted to get a reasonable facsimile of a s'more, all I had to do was run over to Trader Joe's, pick up a carton of his S'mashing S'mores, and stick them in the microwave...

Yeah, okay, I'm a little jealous, and all that malarkey about nuking a S'mashing S'more was definitely an overstatement. There's always something about a pre-fab s'more-related product that just doesn't hold up against the real thing. These were no exception, except I can't quite place my finger on it. My best guess would be the marshmallowy part - I've never been a fan of marshmallow fluff or Mallo-Cups as they've tasted "too fake" to me. I kinda feel that way about the mallowy parts of these guys, and they definitely lack the toasted taste the every good s'more needs. I guess the marshmallow's okay but just not quite good enough. The chocolate's good, and the graham cracker part is decent, and I like how both parts are layered in there. As a whole, I certainly don't mind eating them, but they just don't cut it fully for me. And microwaving them, as the package suggests? For me, that basically just made another small mess to clean up and improved them only marginally.

Sandy, though? She loves them! I had to tell her on more than one occasion that the s'more bites were not an acceptable breakfast alternative. These turned out to be one TJ treat that she undoubtedly ate more of than I did, which is kinda rare. Sandy gives them a good solid thumbs up with a "3.5 to 4" Golden Spoon rating, only saying she wished there were more of them. As for me, well, if they make her happy, I'll continue to buy them and sneak a couple here and there, but all in all, I'm not nearly as enthused. I kinda wish I liked them more, as they're something that I should devour, but as is I'm sticking with a 2, maybe a 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's S'mashing S'mores: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Ginger Snaps

Oh SNAP! These ginger cookies are gluten free!

Once again we have a Trader Joe's victory in gluten free-flavor, and uh...a Trader Joe's...valiant effort in gluten-free texture.

There's an unexpected lemoniness to these cookies that makes them delightful at first bite. There's also a gingeriness, but...that's to be expected. I have mixed feelings about ginger. It's good for you. That's good. In cookies, it can add flavor. That's good. Sometimes it adds too much flavor. That's bad. There's ginger beer. That's good. There's ginger tea. That's bad. Ginger by itself is nasty as heck. That's bad.

And ginger snaps? Well, they're hit or miss. They're generally a bit dry and snappy, which would kind of seem to lend them to a gluten-free form. But, unfortunately, in my humble opinion, these were a bit too dry and snappy. Like tear-up-your-mouth-by-the-second-cookie kind of dry and snappy. Like "Is the blood in my mouth adding or detracting from the taste of these delightful snacks?" kind of dry and snappy.

Sonia, on the other hand, liked them a lot. She sees where I'm coming from in the rips-your-mouth-to-shreds-worse-than-six-bowls-of-Captain-Crunch department. But I think her mouth is a little more resilient than mine, what with three-plus decades of real Mexican spices and L.A. food truck cuisine to build up her resistance to oral battery such as these weaponized cookies.

Seldom in life will you come across such a tasty food that has such a ridiculously inhospitable texture. I really wanted to eat more...but I could not bear the pain. It's something like drinking a Slurpee and getting a brain freeze, but instead of it being cold liquid, it's just ultra-crispy cookies. If I were to break down my 5 potential stars into 2.5 stars for taste and 2.5 stars for texture, these get all 2.5 stars in the flavor arena, and none of the stars in the texture arena. That might be a little harsh, but I'm still compulsively tonguing the roof of my mouth to see if it's healed yet. I say if you've got a mouth of steel—or if you're on a gluten-free diet and you need a tasty cookie, try them. Otherwise, steer clear.

Sonia gives them a 4. She's one tough cookie...just like these Ginger Snaps.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10