Trader Joe's Organic Super Fruit Spread

I could chalk it up to me being some kind of berry snob, but unfortunately my slight aversion to the taste of this spread is more likely a consequence of a lifetime of eating non-organic, heavily-sweetened, fake-flavored, overly-processed products of our modern industrial age. Sad. This stuff kinda reminds me of the blackberry spread we reviewed a long time ago. Like the blackberry spread, I feel that this "Super Fruit" lacks a certain punch. Unlike the blackberry spread, this stuff doesn't have corn syrup or added sugar, which is always good.

My 13-year-old palate wanted both of those products to taste like Trader Joe's Blackberry Crush. But I suppose if something's gotta have a grown-up taste, it's better if it does so with truly organic ingredients. I'm still waiting for the spreadable version of Blackberry Crush, but until it comes, there are always brands like Smucker's that offer organic jellies, most of which have "organic sugar" added. I'm pretty sure TJ's has similar products, but we just haven't gotten around to reviewing them yet.

But to be fair, I must mention that Sonia really liked this spread. She doesn't have the sweet tooth I do, so the natural fruit was plenty potent for her. She liked the consistency of it, too. It's pretty

smooth overall, yet there's enough mashed up berry bits that you really believe the product is coming straight from crushed fruit. And I must say, I enjoyed the product much more when used in a PB&J sandwich, rather than just by itself on toast, although people who really enjoy the taste of organic fruit might disagree, Sonia included.

I thought for a minute when I first looked at the jar that maybe "Super Fruit" was some kind of amazing, recently-discovered plant from the Amazon that tastes like chocolate and has preposterous amounts of antioxidants or something like that. Kind of like an "açaí berry" or "passion fruit," but you know, like, more super. I was wrong. Super Fruit is nothing more than the amalgamation of cherries, grapes, blueberries, and pomegranates.

Since there's basically nothing but fruit in the jar and since Sonia loved it so much, I can't give this a worse score than I gave to the blackberry preserves. So 3 stars from me. Sonia gives it 4 stars. That puts this product squarely in our "not bad" category.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Marinated White Fish Vera Cruz

You know that person. Every office or work place has one, and most people hate them. If you are that person at your particular place of employment, may God have mercy upon your soul. This person I speak of...well, whatever you do in the privacy and ideally foul-stank containing walls of your home, go for it, live and let live, but the person who brings leftover fish for lunch at work and has the sheer audacity to microwave it so the aroma infiltrates and rudely intrudes the entirety of the circulation/ventilation system of your workplace, so everyone has to smell the scant traces of its fishy foulness...I have no words. That is a party foul that just high-fived all of humanity in its very face. DON"T DO IT. Even if you have leftover fish and have to decide between that and a sketchy dollar burrito from the roach coach. Even if you have nothing else to eat, or God forbid, have to choose between one of these atrocities and micro-zapped pescetarian remnants from the night before.

Which is why, when Sandy and I were enjoying the a dinner of rice, steamed veggies, and some Trader Joe's Marinated White Fish Vera Cruz the other night, when she suggested I take the third filet for lunch the next day, I really had to explain the blank, open-mouthed stare I shot her direction. No, dear, I wasn't throwing a fit of serving-size righteousness and indignation, I just didn't want to be that person who got shot a stinkeye the rest of the week. Nobody would be my friend at work anymore. I would be the very shame of my particular version of Cubicleville.


Good thing, this particular fishy delight is just good enough and intriguing enough to warrant a few extra bites, so deciding to share the third wasn't too much of a struggle. By "white fish", Trader Joe's actually meant "swai fish." I thought maybe this was a Swedish/Thai crossbreed or perhaps another name for one of the Swedish Chef specialties, but no. Come to find out, it's an Asian breed of "shark catfish" that would rank behind Sharknado as the most popular shark crossover product if it were actually, indeed, shark. I don't know, Wikipedia it. It's a popular for its moist flakiness and mild flavor, which I'll agree this particular version is, and it also made a good base for the "Vera Cruz-iness" of the dish. There's fancier versions around, which I'll admit to not having yet. Think of fairly spicy, semi-sweet salsa with a heavy dose of green olives, and that's more or less the marinade and topping for the TJ's version. Ours actually veered to almost too olivey, so it was a little out of whack with the lotso-heat/little sweet flavor profile, but it worked just enough to keep us going. The fish filets themselves were marinated deep enough that a lot of the flavor worked itself right into the flesh, which Sandy liked because she scraped off anything resembling a veggie due to textural concerns.

 In all, for a couple folks who are trying to eat fish once a week and needed a change-up from our usual fish o' choice and chili lime rub, the white fish Vera Cruz (sounds like a boat name, almost) wasn't a bad choice, and it's one we'll probably make again. For $5.99 a pound and getting three good sized pieces (pictured above is one that broke in half), it seems like a decent enough value. We're not overly wowed nor terribly turned off. A little less green olive would go a long way.

Just, please, don't microwave it at work. Please.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's White Fish Vera Cruz: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Organic Corn Chip Dippers

Alright, so, listen: there's not too much point in delaying to make the obvious comparison here: Trader Joe's Organic Corn Chip Dippers, on first impression at least, are pretty much just like those big ol' Frito scoopers you can get at pretty much any corner store these days. I'm pretty sure the average consumer (who I definitely lump myself in with) would not be able to tell the difference in a blindfolded taste test. In fact, I can't convince myself that these TJ dippy chippies are not Fritos. That's an intentional double negative there, folks. It means two things: it's 1 a.m. when I'm writing this, and I mean business.

All that being said, there might be a small teeny tiny infinitesimal difference tastewise between the two possibly competing brands. I think these guys are a little thicker, a little crunchier, and perhaps a tad less salty and greasy. I don't eat Fritos often though, and when I do it's normally the regular sized ones, so maybe I'm pulling that comparison out of my arse. I don't know. But I like the fact that these are organic, and while not perfect, Trader Joe's has a respectable enough hisotry with labeling their snackfoods while Frito-Lay....not so much. Not that if I'm to be watching my health and caloric intake that one type of corn chip is really all that better in the grand scheme than another, but any slight edge here and there, I'll take.

Though certainly not bad, these dipper-doodles aren't quite perfect. The lovely specimen I have pictured to the left (smothered in Wal-Mart brand salsa, which is as appetizing as it sounds) is a fine chip made for heavy dipping and lifting duty, I could probably use it as a soup spoon. Too bad not all the chips were like that. Naturally some were more hairpin or latched shaped which made for suboptimal performance. It's a good thing these taste fine enough on their own, or good crumbled up on top of a bowl of chili, that the slightly-more-than-occasional faulty fellow isn't too much of a loss. 
 
 With football season in a few weeks and baseball playoffs starting just a little after that, I'd humbly recommend adding these to the snacking rotation with some guac or salsa or the TJ's pub cheese I keep meaning to try. Just skip the TJ black bean dip because nothing tastes good with that junk, unfortunately. If you're having the gang over and you're concerned that your moronic buddy who always calls end-arounds a reverse will start making foo-foo jokes about your dainty organic chips, just dump them in a bowl and he'll be none the wiser. It'll also save a couple bucks too - I think these were about $2 while the big boys cost something like $3 or $4. Sandy had a complete lack of anything interesting/slightly comical/vaguely embarrassing things to say about these chips, but I know she liked 'em, as did I, so split the score as you see fit. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Corn Chip Dippers: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cold Brew Coffee Concentrate

I like my coffee like I like my women: dark and sweet.

Actually, that's not really true. I'm not all that big a coffee drinker at all. I just wanted to start this post off with that line. My wife is dark-ish and sweet...well, at least most of the time. But if I drink coffee at all, I like it milky and sweet. I'm a wuss when it comes to coffee.

So if any of you are like me, you'll definitely want to prep this stuff up with lots of milk and sugar, and maybe even some water before you drink it. In the manner of a true foodie-hack, I did drink some straight from the bottle. It's bitter and STRONG that way. Whoowee! It tastes like arse, but it'll wake ya up, though. The bottle recommends mixing it with two parts milk or water for every one part concentrate, but that can be adjusted to suit your personal taste.

Prepared the proper way, with a bit of sugar of course, it's mild and tasty. I'm a little more into cold coffee drinks than hot ones, even in the winter. So I guess this stuff is kind of up my alley since it's meant to be drunk cold. I'm going to try to not dock any points just because I'm not a coffee guy, although Sonia, who's a little more of a coffee connoisseur, wasn't even quite as thrilled as I was.

And just for the benefit of you folks doing research on Trader Joe's coffees, and to keep you on our blog for a bit longer, rollicking in our ocean of glorious product reviews, I'm gonna go ahead and provide the following links to other coffees we've reviewed. We've checked out Café Pajaro, Italian Roast, Gingerbread Coffee, Kauai Coffee, and New Orleans Style Coffee. Of the ones I've personally tried, I would have to put this one near the top of the list. Sonia would put it somewhere in the middle. 4 stars from me. 3 from her.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's The Dark Chocolate Lover's Chocolate Bar

Even when I was a much younger rumblin' tumblin' typhoon of a kid, I always disliked the word "lover's" in the name of any food. Prime example: Pizza Hut's Meat Lover's Pizza. Now, I like pepperoni and sausage and beef and whatever other bits of carnation that get piled on top, but I think the simple act of saying the name was like a confession I wasn't willing to openly, unabashedly proclaim: "I love meat! Mmmmm meat!" Plus, let's face it, there's better, more verbally understated ways of celebrating one's appreciation of meat, like ordering a bacon-wrapped filet mignon. Or a turducken. Or, when given the opportunity like I have recently, unashamedly taking a thick cut of pepperoni and smearing a swath of buffalo chicken dip all up on it and savoring every last bit....ummm, I mean, dear, I totally didn't do that this past weekend at your cousin's kid's birthday party...I'm a terrible, terrible absolute hack of a vegetarian wannabe.

So, Trader Joe's The Dark Chocolate Lover's Chocolate Bar. I'll skip over the long awkward name bit (e pluribus unum at TJ's) and focus on that word again: Lover's. Now, I like dark chocolate, but love? Can't go there. Sorry, dark chocolate, you've been friendzoned.

 If the "85% Cacao" label on there isn't indication enough, this is one seriously dark chocolate bar. Kinda like an early days/obscure b-sides album, it's not for everyone even if you're otherwise a fan. It's the darkest TJ's carries, and unlike so many of their other fine choco-creations, there's nothing else mixed in to break up the flavor. And honestly...I didn't expect it to be so sweet. Granted, it's more bittersweet than anything, but I'll confess to have eaten straight baker's chocolate squares before, and I kinda expected the same flat kind of flavor despite the "smooth and fruity" the labels proclaims these bars bring to the table. Nuh uh. Smooth and fruity, while bitter seems about right, plus there's this kinda alcohol-y bit to it, though of course they're booze-free. Is floral a word I can use to describe chocolate? I don't know, but I'm tempted to anyways. It's dark, it's strong, and it's unexpected...hard to adequately describe, but if you've tried you know what I mean.  This ain't no Hershey's.

For a $1.49 for two (!) bars, it's a small, risk-worthy pick-up. I thought Sandy and I would each plow our way thru our own piece. Oh no. It's chocolate worth nibblin' on and slowly enjoying, like a mature grown-up or something. I'll admit that my first impression wasn't so hot, but with each successive smidge I liked it a little more. One bar between the two of us was more than plenty for one night. Sandy enjoyed it a bit more than I did and goes with a four. It's a bit potent for me, but I don't think I'm quite the intended audience, so I'll be fair and say a three...nah, 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's The Dark Chocolate Lover's Chocolate Bar: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Petite Seafood Croquettes

With Surimi imitation crab! Oh boy! That's the best imitation crab meat of them all!

Or so I might believe after perusing the cover of this product. I've actually never heard of Surimi until now, but I have known for a while that a lot of times "crab meat" is actually nothing but fake crab meat that's really only dressed-up fish. I just find it funny that TJ's advertises it so boldly on the cover of the product. Well, it does say "seafood croquettes," not "crab croquettes." And really, I think if it were real crab meat, they'd just go ahead and call them "Petite Crab Cakes" or "Mini Crab Cakes." But I do get caught up in the semantics too easily. It's the English major in me.

Let's talk about grub.

These are good. But not quite as good as the Maryland-Style Crab Cakes we reviewed a while back. Maybe that's because...they aren't crab cakes. But they're so similar to crab cakes...they might as well be. You could call them "Fish Cakes," but that would be boring. I guess the best thing

to call them would have been "Imitation Crab Cakes" or "Surimi Cakes." But what marketer would put the word "imitation" in the title of a product? One who's slightly crazier than the one that put "made with surimi imitation crab" immediately below the title of the product.

They're slightly firm on the outside, and significantly softer on the inside. You can taste things like peppers, celery, and cream in the mix. It's actually a good bit like Thanksgiving stuffing...mixed with fish. They're not very spicy, but you can detect a hint of seasoning. All in all, not a bad appetizer, but there are plenty of hors d'oeuvres I'd take over these.

Sonia gives them 3.5 stars, adding, "They were a little too eggy for me, even though I like eggs." I didn't notice the egginess so much, but I give them 3.5 too, because they were snackable enough, but not particularly memorable.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Cheddar & Horseradish Flavored Potato Chips

There's a few simple joys in life that I truly love: Cuddling a sleepy baby for a lazy Sunday afternoon nap. Licking off the beaters or wooden spoon while making a cake or homemade cookies. Getting just in front of that dirtbag who doesn't want to let you merge and winning that mutual battle of wills to get to your cubicle 2.3 nanoseconds sooner. These are all great things.

Another I'd add to the list would be when your bag of chips gets down to last itty bitty shards of chippiness, with all the flavor dustings smushed down in and concentrated in a small pocket in the corner of the bag, and simply lifting the bag and pouring straight into your mouth because to reach your hand in would only result in dusty digits turning to sludge that your wife will give you the stinkeye for wiping off on your jeans.

Unfortunately for Trader Joe's Cheddar & Horseradish Flavored Potato Chips, this was an experience I could not enjoy one bit when I indulged the other day after Sandy and I more or less ravaged the rest of the bag throughout the day. The back of the bag says something to the effect of "cheddary with a touch of horseradish." The scribe who penned those words must have done so with a touch of horse....uh, nevermind, family-friendly, SFW website we run here. Every chip I crunched in all its otherwise kettlechip glory I tasted nothing but the horseradish through and through, with all the compulsion of its bitter might. I literally could not taste anything else except a slight smidge of cheddar here and there when my tastebuds pleaded for mercy. "Delightfully flavored" is not the way I'd describe these, unless horseradish is really, and I mean really your thing.  The kicker was that last little refuge of snacktime crumbles - it took me two tries and a large glass of water in the middle to make it happen. Yes, it owned me.  

That might all sound like a negative. I actually don't quite mean it that way. In a sense, I can kinda relate these to salt-and-vinegar chips, not because of flavor similarities (because there's not much) but because of flavor potency. I don't eat chips often but when I do I prefer either regular or barbeque or sour cream and onion or something along that line. There's a time and place for salt-and-vinegar chips, though, for me to occasionally poke at and munch a few then put away. These very horseradishy/not very cheddary guys fit much of that same mold.

I mentioned somewhere up there that these were opened and demolished within a day. Yes, I helped, but Sandy sure did too, and she loved these chips as she's gone around the house humming about them occasionally. Then again, she really likes salt-and-vinegar chips, so maybe there's something to that comparision. She's also made fun of me a couple times for my reaction when polishing off the bag. "Ahhhhhhh! Oooooh! Aaaaaaaaaaaa!" she'll grimace as she stumbles around like a dizzy wide-eyed t-rex in search of liquid salvation. That's fairly spot on, actually, wifey, so good work, keep it up. She's going with a four, while I'll chime in a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cheddar & Horseradish Flavored Potato Chips: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Chip Brownie & Oat Bars

Along the same lines as the Peanut Butter and Oat Bars or the Fiberful Granola Bars, these are pre-packaged snack bar thingies that come 6 in a pack. They're filling, chocolatey, and a good size for an in-between meal morsel.

The actual product is pretty moist when you first unwrap it, but it's a texture that instantly makes your mouth dry. If you're the type that loves to drown chocolatey things with milk or a coffee-type beverage, these little bars would probably be alright for breakfast or some similar situation. On the flip side, if you're hiking or walking around in the summer heat, I personally would think these would be the last things you'd want to eat. They cause thirst. And not just thirst, but they leave this sensation in your mouth that begs for something more than water. There's still an aftertaste even after a few swigs of H2O.

Sonia thinks the chocolate tastes a bit like carob in this case, and I agree. It's a "healthy" chocolate taste. It's "oaty." Which, of course, isn't that bad if you're a fan of carob and oats. The icing drizzle on the top of the bars is sweet and tasty, and both Sonia and I wish there were more of it.

All in all, because of this product's heavy, oaty chocolatiness, I think this is more of an autumn/spring pseudo-healthy morning food than an indulgent, refreshing summer afternoon snack. But not bad in a pinch. Just be sure to have some milk or creamy coffee on standby. 

Sonia gives these bars 3.5 stars. I give them 3.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Lobster Ravioli

The first and foremost thing that drew me to pick up Trader Joe's Lobster Ravioli was their appearance. For whatever reason, I didn't take a great picture (actually, no picture at all) of these big old guys with the crazy red thick red stripes on them. Perhaps I've lived a fairly sheltered life as it relates to stuffed pastas, but I've never seen such a thing as striped ravioli, or if I have, I've haven't remembered, so it doesn't count. These, though...these are loud and proud and not afraid to express their semolina selves to the world. You go, ravioli. Although, it's not like different colored pasta taste all that radically different from regular, so I'm not sure of the practical use. About the only reason I can think of is somehow a game of Ravioli Crush Saga broke out and you need to know which one you can count on wiping out an entire row. A pretty similar game is the one Shelly household obsession right now. Another one, to not the same degree, is "Kitchen Nightmares" on Netflix, and on a recently watched episode, Gordon Ramsey picked up a handful of (you guessed it) red striped lobster ravioli (dried) and unleashed a string of bleeps so superfluous that I'm not even sure what words 90% of the bleeps were bleeped for. It was amazing, and it also shows that having red-striped lobster ravioli is at least some sort of common practice.

The second thing that tempted me into buying them was the thought of tasty, chunky, lobstery, yummy bites wrapped up in some pasta and served with a little sauce. In my mind, that's what lobster ravioli is, though I have no experience to base that on. I should've figured differently, because that's not exactly what's inside. Instead of big ol' lobster chunks, it's probably something that Ramsey would call lobster baby food as it's all mashed and pureed up, and mixed in with all sorts of other stuff. Ours were a tad salty and a wee bit gritty, but overall  pretty decent. I liked the fact that, at least on a flavor and texture basis, they weren't too ricotta-like. There's just enough lobster in each one to be the dominant flavor and gets complemented well with the little shake of mozzarella they had. We served them up with a little vodka sauce, but I'm thinking perhaps a light butter or lemon pepper sauce would've been a better match. Regardless, while not overly impressive, and certainly not as fancy as their appearance initially made me think, the ravioli made a decent enough quick weeknight meal, and was close to worth the $4 we dropped on the sack of 'em.

Sandy also would've preferred bigger chunks of actual lobster in them. Then again, that'd probably jack the price up, but I could be on board for that. Other than that, she didn't have to say, which means about a three, which sounds right about right to me as well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Lobster Ravioli: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Tropical Fruit Juice in a Box

This stuff looks and tastes kinda like Juicy Juice. It's definitely a step-up from the Pomegranate Lime Juice in a Box that we reviewed in 2012, but it's not quite as amazing as some other juice blends we've taken looks at over the years.

It's very guava-dominant. If they had labeled the drink "guava juice," I think it would have given consumers a little bit more of an idea what they're getting into when they buy this product. However, the main juice present is "pear juice" according to the ingredients list.

In the past, I've stood atop my soapbox and preached the virtues of pear juice to my audience, so I'll spare you another lecture on that subject. But if you missed the original, just click here to partake of my pear madness and peruse a post about one of the most perfect pear products you can purchase. Long story short, pear juice makes a great sweetener. And the drink won't necessarily taste like pear, especially if there are other juices present.

And it's not too sweet, either. It's just right. It's been good for these hot pre-summer days here in southeastern Pennsylvania. Very refreshing.

And I certainly don't have anything against guava. Guava is great. But I think I would have rather had pear be the dominant flavor. That is to say, they should have added nothing but pear juice and just a few drops of other fruit juices to make it interesting. Or pineapple could have been the dominant flavor. Or passionfruit. Or peach.

When it comes right down to it, I guess guava is fairly low on my "fruits that I like list." It's on the list for sure, it's just that there are lots of other fruits that are higher. So I guess my bottom line here is that if you like guava, you'll like this beverage. And how much you like guava will likely determine how much you'll like this Tropical Fruit Juice in a Box. Am I right?

Or am I right? (Leave a comment below and let me know how right you think I am).

And even though it seems inconceivable, if you think I am not right in my Theory of Guava Affinity, you may leave sentiments to that effect in the comments, as well.

Sonia and I give this product double 3.5's.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice

Admittedly, Sandy and I are on a dinner time slump of sorts. We used to cook an actual "real dinner" almost every night, as opposed to our current habit of ripping open a box or bag and heating whatever's inside. Used to be that on "lazy nights" I'd end up making us some fried rice of some sort, using whatever we had around. These days, even that sounds like a bit of an undertaking. There's many reasons why I guess - tiredness from workday, the baby needing attention, the house needing to be cleaned and prepped for putting it on the market - but man, I at least miss actual cooking, but the allure of something quick and easy, with one less mess to clean up is pretty tempting these days. I'm hoping this will change as things hopefully begin to slow down, more veggies get in season, and the farmer's market/CSA season gets into swing.*

But until then, we still need to eat. Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice was a pretty natural pick up. Pretty much every word in its name is a buzzword that once my eyes see them, I'm instantly interested in whatever it is. It's like naming something Dinosaur Baseball Bikini Beer or Sleeping Baby Couch Netflix White Russian - there's too many good sounding things about it that I gots to see what it is.  I'm just glad that this name at least makes sense.

This dish isn't a terrible pick up. On some levels, the fried rice is a pretty straightforward, fairly typical variety one might expect from the freezer section. Typical veggies, typical spices, typical shortage of shrimp, and so on. But there's one or two extra things done right that help kick it up a notch. The teenyThai lime leaves scattered about make a great, flavorful extra touch that I wasn't fully anticipating, even though I've become reacquainted with them recently thanks to these catchy cashews. Also, while the rice and other contents maintain an adequate level of spice that'd be accessible to most folks, the sliced red chiles actually kick things up several notches in the heat department. If you like heat, head for them; if not, avoid them, and the rest of your dinner should be unscathed. And thankfully, TJ's has kept up its track record of of having only fresh, firm, delectable shrimpies included, which is not the norm I've experienced at other chains. 

That's not to say it's a perfect dish. According to the label, this is a four serving bag. I ensure you it is not. Sandy and I, who have been watching our portion sizes, were easily able to polish it off without much trouble in one sitting. Need more evidence? There were only seven shrimp in the bag. Tell me how four people split seven shrimp. If you need to feed a crowd bigger than two, I'd say get an extra bag, or at least add some extra protein like some eggs or cashews. I for one am glad that frozen egg bits were not included, unlike other shrimp fried rice offerings in the past.

Other than that, this particular iteration made a decent enough dinner. Grab some spring rolls and you can make a reasonable approximation of a Thai dinner out at a fraction of the cost. I misplaced the receipt, but this cost about four bucks if I remember right. Seriously, only about a small handful of shrimp keep this away from a much higher score. Also, if this didn't give poor Sandy a little bit of heartburn after the fact. I told you to give me those chilis, love, because you're hot enough the way you are, and you just had to roll your eyes. Tsktsk. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

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* Sandy and I are jumping aboard the CSA bandwagon this year, and quite honetly, I'm frightened about it. The reason can be summed up in one word: kohlrabi. Never had one, have no idea what to do with it, and it reminds me of the veggies from Super Mario 2 that you throw at the bad guys. When's the last time you saw a Shy Guy riding an Ostro around in real life? Thought so. So what the heck am I supposed to do with it? We'll see.....

Trader Joe's Fruity O's

Yes, these are Trader Joe's Fruit Loops, for all intents and purposes. However, as one might have expected, TJ's left out the scary toxic neon colors, and the flavors come from actual fruits and vegetables. I guess they could have called them "Fruit and Vegetable O's" but that probably would have scared people off. I know I wouldn't have bought 'em.

The organic corn flour makes for one super-crunchy, roof-of-the-mouth-scratching "O." I'd say they're even firmer than actual Kellogg's Fruit Loops. And I've never been a fan of them for that reason. The taste of blood doesn't mix well with milk and cereal.

But for those of you with mouths of steel, this might be a decent breakfast treat for you. This cereal does accurately mimic the flavor of traditional fruit loops, although it's much less sugary and somewhat understated in comparison.

I really used to like the crazy neon milk left over from a bowl of Fruit Loops. The milk barely changes color at all with Trader Joe's version. Likewise, when you pick up the bowl to sip the milk right out of it, it actually tastes like milk rather than a melted milkshake dessert. But I guess that's a sign that it's healthy.

At nearly 34 years old, I suppose I should change my priorities and steer clear of the whole "asking for diabetes" thing and drinking carcinogenic dyes from a cereal bowl. I grew out of Saturday morning cartoons recently, but that's only because the ones they show now suck compared to the stuff we grew up with in the 80's.

Sonia has always been a bigger fan of fruit loops than I have, so I expected her to rave about these things, but she gave a lackluster reaction and shrugged her shoulders when she tried them. However, they kind of grew on her by the end of the bowl, and she settled on a dignified 3.5 star score.

Overall, this cereal's not bad. But if you want a few recommendations for cereals that really wowed us, check out our reviews of Organic Mango Passion Granola and Maple Brown Sugar Mini Wheats.

I give the Fruity O's 3 stars.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Black Currant Juice Beverage

I had eaten dried currants long before I tried this beverage. They're very similar to raisins in taste and texture. So I guess in my mind I was expecting this beverage to taste a little like raisin juice. "But raisins are just dried grapes, you airhead," I scolded myself internally. So before partaking of this beverage, I adjusted my flavor-hypothesis accordingly and primed my tongue for something red grape juice-esque. I had also been warned by the check-out girl at TJ's that she cuts her currant juice with a bit of water—so I was expecting it to be strong, too.

But if anything, I would say the taste of this juice is significantly subtler than good old, traditional Welch's 100% Grape Juice. It looks almost identical to red grape juice—perhaps a tad darker. And I've never been one to cut anything with water. I'd rather have half a glass of thick syrupy juice by itself and then chase it with a separate glass of plain water. Which is what I did in this case.

It wasn't so pungent that it blew me away with its tartness or tanginess, but it certainly left a bit of an aftertaste in my mouth. Not a terrible one, but any aftertaste is unwelcome in my book.

However, the overall flavor is quite pleasant. It's a really refreshing and summery flavor somehow. There's an undertone that I would compare to cherry juice or cherry cider. And it's not unlike the flavor of an acaí-based drink or blackberry drink, although all three of those juices are a tad more pungent than this stuff.

The only thing they add to the "juice beverage" is some cane sugar. I think they could have gotten away with just calling it "juice," but you know the true health nuts would have had a conniption if TJ's called it "juice" and then added sugar.

It's not overly sweet by any means. I think if they had gone the purist route and not added any sugar of any kind, it would have turned me off. I think it is what it's supposed to be, just the way they have it...if that makes sense. 

Even so, in the future, I think I'll go for the stronger stuff over this one. But if you're someone who really appreciates lighter, subtler flavors, I could absolutely feature this being a beverage of choice for palates more refined than mine.

I give it 3.5 stars. So does Sonia, who added, "It tastes like a diet drink, almost like a weird Crystal Light flavor."

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Jeju Mandarin Orange Slices

How long does a bag of mandarins or clementines last in your house? Around these parts, not long at all. The wife and I can inhale a two pound bag in literally a day. It must be our completely irrational fear of scurvy. As an aside, we have to save one for Baby M, who loves holding one in her little hands as she tries to impersonate the two of us by trying to cram it into mouth. Like father, like daughter, I guess. Scary thought. She literally held one for hours at school one day until a bigger kid came by, swiped it, and chomped it as Baby M burst into tears. If someone stole my little orange, I'd have much the same reaction.

Anyways, when I see the words "crispy" and "Mandarin orange," my mind automatically inserts the word "chicken." So it's a little jarring to see the full name, Trader Joe's Crispy Jeju Mandarin Orange Slices, and know it's an obviously orangey poultry-free product. In case you whiff on this observation, TJ's conveniently slapped on the phrase "nothing added". No, friends, what's about to go down is a crispy orange slice, in all its crispy orange slice glory, and there's nothing to add or subtract from that.

Except the juiciness, naturally. Texturally and sensorially, the orange slices are kinda bizarre at first. Visually, they look like something you'd find in a potpurri jar. Imagine leaving an orange slice in the desert sun for a week or two, and coming back and finding a withered skin-frame of what used to be a regular mandarin orange slice. That's about what they look like, and kinda what they crunch like, too. Each bit is light, airy, and definitely crispy, like a potato chip but much lighter, like crispy paper, perhaps. It's strange until you get used to it.

What it doesn't lose is taste. Despite the abject absence of any water, the orange slices still maintain a lot of the citrusy acidic bite. Some were even downright tart. Once I got used to the texture and mouthfeel of these lil' buggers, I could begin to really enjoy the taste. Unfortunately, that's also just about when the bag ran out.

The crispy oranges made an interesting little snack for the drive home post-work and shopping/pre-exercise/dinner/baby caretaking evening. Sandy's pretty hyped on the idea of getting them again before having guests over, to try and fool them into thinking we eat potpurri. Other than that, she stated she wasn't sure if she'd buy them again. I think it's because ultimately there isn't much substance to them. That's also my knock aganst 'em, though the edible potpurri shenanigans sound good to me. Sandy says a three. I say they deserve better, just for being willing to be a little weird, so a four from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Jeju Mandarin Orange Slices: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons        

Trader Joe's Garlic Fries

I have random pictures on my iPhone. Take, for instance, this lovely looking picture of Trader Joe's Garlic Fries. I don't remember taking it. It might have been a few weeks ago when we had them last. It might have been any one of the several times Sandy and I munched down on them over the past couple years. About a year ago at this time, we were eating a lot of fries. Pregnancy and sympathy can certainly do that. While we favored the sweet potato frites, these were a common-enough pick up...I think her watching the Twilight movies and her strong desire to not  have a vampire baby might have had something to do with that. Eh well. Stumbling across the picture was a little bit of providence, as our latest trip to TJ's produced much of the same staples as usual without much of anything new to review, so here we go.

They're not bad. These fries are the type with a little extra batter on them to make them a little extra crispy and greasy even straight from the oven. They're also pretty generously cut. I approve of that. I'd recommend baking them a little longer to make sure they're a little extra crispy, because the garlic goop comes in a little pouch on the side that you swish your fries in a bowl once baked. That leaves the potential for a plateful of limp, very non-crispy fry. That's not good. That brings us to the garlic sauce...it's decidedly very garlicky. You've got to like roasted garlic to like these, because man, it's strong. We've used the whole pouch and have found that the "less is more" approach works better. Also, in retrospect, I wonder if drizzling the garlic oil on the fries then baking for an extra couple minutes might not be a bad approach to try and avoid the inevitability of a few less-than-perfunctory spuds. Anyone try that method?

That biggest gripe I have, though, is if you follow the instructions and pay attention to the labeling, you have to bake the whole bag at once (I guess because of the one pouch of oil), and that's seven servings. Maybe that works well for the seven dwarves, but for just me and the wifey (Baby M's still a bit too young), that's a lot. Granted, I think the serving sizes are small, because, um, well, we can eat the whole bag (not that we should, but we can). There's probably some sort of creative solution that doesn't involve reheating them, because that's gross.  Also, it'd be preferable if it involved not storing the excess oil in my fridge, because knowing us it'd end up going bad and making a nasty piece of Tupperware we'd fight over cleaning up (I always lose those).

To wrap it up, the Trader Joe's garlic fries aren't necessarily fantastic, but they're not terrible either. I'm "borrowing" the packaging picture from a veritable fry expert, French Fry Diary, and their review, while a bit more harsh than ours, isn't too far off the mark either. They're not bad, and they're worth the occasional pick-up, but not much more than that. Split our score as you see fit.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Garlic Fries: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Organic Creamy Tomato Soup

A couple weeks ago, we reviewed Trader Joe's Organic Tomato and Roasted Red Pepper Soup. In that post, I brooded sufficiently over TJ's discontinuation of their Organic Tomato Bisque, so I shan't do so any more in this post. But man, I really miss that bisque!

I should also point out that a reader mentioned in a comment that Trader Joe's English Cheddar with Caramelized Onions makes a brilliant companion for the aforementioned red pepper soup. I would think this creamy tomato soup would work well with it also. Or try dipping Piccolo Paninis in one of those tasty TJ's soups.

All that being said, I guess you're wondering what this soup is actually like...

Well, it's got the texture of typical creamy tomato soup. Think Campbell's. Or think TJ's Roasted Red Pepper Soup. 'Nuff said.

As for the taste, it's not as good as TJ's Tomato Bisque. But nothing is. Furthermore, Sonia and I both agree that the Roasted Red Pepper Soup has a bit more flavor and uniqueness than this product. But if you're a fan of just plain old, traditional, classic tomato soup, then check it out. It's organic, so that puts it one step ahead of Campbell's, and it doesn't contain anything nasty like high fructose corn syrup, so that puts it two full steps ahead of Campbell's right there. And it tastes like creamy tomato soup. Pure and simple.

I only use Campbell's as an example since it's the archetype for all American soups, the wrapper of which is worthy of Warholian pop-art. It is the standard by which other soups are often measured. That doesn't mean there aren't other brands of healthier tomato soups out there. Amy's comes to mind. And word on the street is that she offers a chunky tomato bisque, comparable to Trader Joe's...I'm'onna check that out!

All in all, we can't complain. But I usually reserve the really high scores for weird stuff with bells and whistles. 4 stars from Sonia. 3 stars from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 100% Whole Wheat Everything Bagel Slims

Back in mid-November, I started a new job. The details of it are quite inconsequential, so I'll skip over them. The highlights: closer to home, less stress, better hours, and more pay. Tough to argue with that combination! Anyways, I split a double cubicle with a guy there who I've gotten to be decent enough buddies with. He's...interesting. I mean that in a good way. I genuinely like him. But like the rest of us, he's got his little things and minor hang ups. For him, it's his bagel. Every day I have eaten lunch with him (which has been most every day after my first week or two there), he's had an asiago cheese bagel (bought day-old and half price from an outstanding local bakery) sandwich with precisely the same amount of sliced lunch meat and cheese on it, with probably the same number of lettuce leaves and jalapeno slices. Every day, without fail. He's funny, too, because he obsesses over his bagels, to the point he claims he can drive by and spot when they're available on the halfprice rack and when they are not, and if they are, he will stop and buy every single one. I don't doubt him one bit.  

Anyways, my bagel of choice is usually an everything bagel. They're far from an everyday thing, but when given the opportunity, I'll bite. When we're shopping, Sandy is usually on the lookout for new and interesting carby creations to use for sandwiches and whatnot, and the sleeker and sexier, the better. She got really excited over some "pocket bread" she saw recently and got, while I tried my best to point out to her it was really just a pita. Not to her, though. "It's pocket bread!" I gave up. Fortunately, when those were gone, we both managed to spy the Trader Joe's 100% Whole Wheat Everything Bagel Slims, and needless to say, we were both on board. The pack of 8 cost something like $3.

 I completely neglected to take a picture of them, but they look about as exciting as they actually sound - round, slim, hole in the middle. You probably could've guessed all that. And you probably could have guessed what they taste like, too - whole wheat, onion, the usual seedy suspects. And further, you probably could have guessed that they resemble something much closer to a slice of bread with all that in it and on it, instead of an actual bagel. Yeah, these kinda are what they are, without too much surprise. They're not bad, but they don't blow me away either. Even when we toasted them up, they still lacked the bite that I knew they wouldn't have but wanted them to anyways, if that makes any sense. The way I figure it, if the Food Network can find all these chefs to make a dessert incorporating stuff like peanut butter, green tea leaves, duck eggs, and Cinnabon icing (or whatever), they should be to find someone with a useful skill like making an actual slim bagel, with the tough egg-brushed skin and chewy middles that an good bagel has, without all the Atkins-cringe-inducing carb crushload. Maybe that person is out there. Heck, maybe it's you. Get to work! 

All that being said...we'd buy them again. They matched every kind of sandwich we made wth them, from tofu parmesan to veggie masala burgers to egg and cheese. They're solid if not spectacular, perhaps an unsung hero in some ways. You need something to help hold your sandwich together, and these do an admirable enough job. Sandy made a satisfied Mmmmm when I asked for her score, so I knew she liked them, and she did, well enough to give them a four. That's a bit high in my book. Here's a 3.5 from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 100% Whole Wheat Everything Bagel Slims: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Spicy Seaweed Ramen

TJ's has offered us a number of unusual, but surprisingly good soups over the years. I'm thinking Lentil Soup with Ancient Grains and Tomato and Red Pepper Soup. But, they've also offered a number of so-so selections like the Rice Noodle Soup Bowls.

In several past posts, I've mentioned that I love seaweed. And at least once I've mentioned that I hate kimchi and sauerkraut—the whole rotted cabbage deal just isn't my thing. Well, this dish has both seaweed and kimchi, but as the product's name would suggest, seaweed is more prominent in the soup. There's little more than a few kimchi flakes in the whole package. Thank goodness. But I do have to admit that they added a hint of excitement to an otherwise unremarkable broth.

The noodles are really good. They're thick and soft—but not too soft, depending on how long you cook them—and they've got about as much flavor as you can expect a ramen noodle to have. There seemed to be an excess of broth when we added the prescribed amount of water. Two cups I think. And less water would have meant a slightly stronger flavor in the broth, which I wouldn't have minded one bit. It was sorta spicy as it was, but I could have stood it being doubly so.

I also wouldn't have minded more seaweed. I liked the way the noodles and seaweed paired up, but I still had half my noodles left when the little green leaves started getting scarce. This product is a really easy, inexpensive international snack, but it's also unsubstantial and would benefit from a stronger broth and more seaweed. All in all, not a bad value, but probably not something we'll buy on a regular basis. I give it 3.5 stars. Sonia gives it an even 3. 

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10

_______________________

Here's a photo of the prepared product, with some of the broth drained out. We didn't waste the excess liquid. We used it in a culinary experiment so shameful, that I shan't mention it on this blog for fear you'll downgrade me from a "foodie-hack" to a "person who shouldn't be allowed to eat at all." 

Okay, you twisted my arm. I'll tell you. We added chicken hot dogs to make an Asian-American fusion dish. Please, kids, don't try it at home.

Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints

It's pretty silly, the mental gymnastics and justifications that Sandy and I routinely do this time of year, and especially this year, when we're going without meats and sweets for a spell. It's part of that four-letter L word I pledged to not go on and on about. I think we've eaten more fake meat products in the past two or so weeks then we have eaten actual meat since the beginning of the year. It's close, at least. As for sweets...Sandy and I routinely have a "Is this or is this not a sweet?" conversation. Banana and oatmeal "cookies" made with just those two ingredients? Not a sweet. Fruit smoothie, made out of fruit? Not a sweet. Dunkin Donuts coffee? Probably, technically speaking, a sweet but uhhhh....nope. Chocolate milk? Yes.* Shamrock shake? Definitely, and sadly, yes. And on and on it goes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints could be considered a sweet, as it is a hard candy and all. But for whatever reason, it hasn't crossed that artificial threshold we've determined. Not a sweet, and therefore, it's okay that we bought this for the buck or so it cost, and okay that I've more or less hoarded as a "Daddy's little helper" stash to get me through the work day.

It probably helps our justification that these gingermints aren't sweet (adjective) at all, really. Nor are they close to minty in a way I'd call anything minty. Nah, these fellas are pretty much straight-up gingery. They're moreso than the cookie butter (which we unwisely left a half jar-full in the pantry to taunt us) but much less than these candied bits o' napalm. It's ginger dore right, with a little bite but without the overkill. Looking over the ingredients, it was interesting to see maple syrup as an ingredient, because I don't taste it that much. If it's there, it's not too potent. Maybe it just helps keep the ginger in check. At least the tapioca doesn't do anything to screw up the flavor like it may have for these cheesesticks.

Since they're vegan, organic, and gluten-free, it's easy to chalk these up to being a crunchy-hippie cousin of an Altoid, because in all other aspects they're pretty similar. A brief skim over ingredients confirms these aren't made by the same company, though. The closest Altoid I can compare them to would be a cinnamon one, but a little less strong (at least in my memory), and of course more gingery than cinnamony. Whatevs. I like 'em. Sandy's neither overly impressed nor unimpressed, so she's going down the middle with a three. I see that and raise another spoon.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Sandy drank some about a week or so ago after a long training run for her half marathon. I'd call shenanigans on that, but she just ran about eight miles. Dang, girl!