Trader Joe's Roasted Barley Tea

"Cheerios water."

For better, or for worse, or for whatever reason, those were the first words out of my mouth after my first sip of a new icy cool Trader Joe's Roasted Barley Tea.

"Ch...Cheerios water? What the heck are ya talking about, and how would you know what Cheerios water would taste like? You tryin' that out on you own time or sometime?"

"Heck no. But like...if I had a bowl of Cherrios, but instead of milk poured water over it, ate the Cheerios, then drank the water, I think this would taste like that."

"Okay, weirdo. It's..." pauses for another sip "...more like coffee. Like a really weak coffee, like what I'd imagine emergency ration coffee would be like, all watered down and everything...which I hope we won't find out what that'll be like..."

"Thanks for the stark assessment, love."

Well, there ya have it. There's a little slice of life between my lovely bride and I the other night, after making a quick stop at TJ's after a long hot day capped off with a family bike ride to try and save some of our collective sanity. Left us parched, and I figured no better time to give a new beverage a try.

For a first time tryer of boricha (the actual Korean name for this type of drink, though I make no claim to this TJ's version's authenticity), it's so simple a drink, yet one that leaves me intrigued. I mean, literally, it tastes like nothing but grain, kinda, and water. There's no sugar, no other flavors or spices or anything to "liven" it up. It's barley...and water. Part of me wants to be all wiseguy 'merican and say to add malt and hops and then we might really be on to something, but that's not what we have here.

It's light but not overtly crisp and I waver on calling it refreshing or not. I'm sure some folks could consider it that, but I'm not quite on board. It's not awful, by any stretch, and I definitely enjoyed it the more I drank it, but I didn't finish the bottle entirely overjoyed, either. Yet I wish to try it again, and for $1.19 a bottle it's a low priced gamble.

I just noticed on the bottle it said it the barley tea can be served hot or cold. If it ever cools down, I'll definitely have try a heated up version - honestly I think I'd enjoy it more that way, but not when it's in the mid 90s and I have no AC, thank you very much.

Not overly in love, but I'll try it again for sure. That warrants a three in my book, subject to change with further experience. Despite our exclusive to ourselves oddities, my wife shares in this assessment with a three of her own.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Roasted Barley Tea: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Cucumber Kefir Dressing

It's been over nine years since we last looked at a Trader Joe's kefir product. Granted, that one was more of a beverage and this one is a condiment, but still, these are the only two products we've seen that contain the name "kefir" through nearly a decade of reviews. All I know about kefir is that it's basically a drinkable yogurt. I'm still not even 100% sure how you're supposed to pronounce the word. Fortunately, I won't have to say it out loud any time soon. Sonia and I have simply been referring to this dressing as, "you know, the cucumber stuff."

I'd say all things considered, we're fans. It's oddly thin for a milk-based salad dressing, but we're both fine with that. We think the thinness makes it more summery. Thick stuff is for fall and winter. This is like the warm weather version of ranch, at least texture-wise.

It's super tangy, cucumbery, and refreshing. Pretty much every ingredient is truly organic, so that's a plus. Calories and fat count are very reasonable. It's always a shame when you choose a salad thinking you're being good and then you do some math and realize you're actually getting just as many calories and often more fat than if you'd gotten a sub or a hamburger. Ah well, at least there's more roughage and fewer carbs, right?

Flavor-wise, it's not too far off from a Caesar dressing, but way more sour. There are numerous types of oils and vinegars, as well as real cucumber puree. The blend of spices is noticeable but it doesn't overshadow the tangy dairy flavors or the subtle notes of cucumber. It's almost like a thin American tzatziki. Sonia thought the sour power was a little intense—not that she disliked it, but she used significantly less dressing than I did so as to not overpower her taste buds.

I, personally, don't think this condiment works as a veggie dip so well, since it doesn't coat as much as other dips. If you've got all your greens in a bowl, it works as a classic salad dressing. I've tried it as an alternative condiment in a sandwich, but it tends to slide off the edges of the bread and drip down onto your plate. You can always try dabbing your sandwich into the little puddles of the dressing to recover some of the escaped portions, but that can be frustrating and tedious.

The price is $3.49 for a bottle that won't last long. A larger family might go through the bottle at a single meal—and I mean that as a testament both to the diminutive size of the bottle as well as to the quality and uniqueness of the product. Says there's 12 servings, but I think it's more like six the way I use dressing. Three and a half stars a piece.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pineapple Cottage Cheese

Growing up adjacent to Pennsylvania Dutch country, I was introduced to cottage cheese and apple butter at an early age. I've always loved that combo. My family would frequent the local Bonanza Steakhouse when I was a kid, and I remember hitting up the salad bar repeatedly to fill plate after plate with globs of cottage cheese topped with generous amounts of apple butter. My parents would even scold me and remind me to save room for the main course. I always had juuust enough appetite left to shovel down my child-size portion of fried shrimp with cocktail sauce.

Since then, I've learned that various fruits pair well with cottage cheese. I love it with pears, peaches, grapes...and most recently, pineapple chunks. Up to this point, I've always just added my own, although I'm aware there are numerous other pre-mixed cottage cheese and pineapple offerings.

Since pineapple is so naturally sweet, I was surprised to see both "sugar" and "brown sugar" as part of the pineapple base in this product. There's a total of 5g of added sugars in the tub, which isn't too bad, I suppose, but I honestly prefer cottage cheese with nothing but fruit—apple butter being the one exception.

But if I'm not comparing it to anything else, this combo tastes pretty good and isn't bad for a cheap snack at $1.19. Cottage cheese always packs a significant amount of protein without a ton of calories and fat, and the tub is the perfect size for a single-serving blood sugar booster. 

I'd really have liked a lot more pineapple, though. The bits in the container are miniscule and few and far between. The pineapple base is a thin yellowish jam-like substance, and both the fruit and the pineapple base come on the bottom of the plastic tub and must be stirred in manually, in the manner of fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt. It's definitely sweet and pineappley, but you can still taste the curdy creaminess of cottage cheese, as well.

For the sake of convenience and value, I'd consider purchasing this product again, but if you've got actual pineapple on hand and can add it to plain cottage cheese yourself, I think that's a better option, all things considered. Sonia concurs. Three out of five stars from Sonia, three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken Poppers

Don't know about you, but I've been putting on the lockdown pounds, which I'm trying to be better about...but then something like Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken Poppers comes along and somehow falls into my cart and, well, what do you expect?

Look at that picture of the front. Just looook. It's a little wedge of snacky time perfection, from what it appears, right? Oozy filling, deep fried wrapper, the words "buffalo chicken" promising that classic spicy taste...who can resist? Not me.

But wait, there's more! Silly me, calling it just a wrapper. No, friends. No, It's not just any wrapper, it's phyllo dough! I mean, mathematics and philosophy and Yanni are fine and all, but phyllo just may be the greatest Greek contribution to society. All those irresistably thin 'n crispy layers, making these poppers more of a pastry than just another Chotchki's-type deep fried dish...oh yeah, for sure.

Naturally there's only one proper way to prep these: air fryer. No question. If you don't have one, you should, and you'll never look back. That's what we did, and the result was piping hot, not-too-greasy, light and crispy buffalo chicken poppers ready to, well, pop right in our mouths.

And all that phyllo...delicious. I think I'll have another bite of it, and maybe another nibble. Good, but where's the chicken? Where's the buffalo? Where's the whatever else in there?

Oooh...there it is. Sorta.

As always, it's possible we just got a particularly stingy batch of product, but that'd be one helluva unlucky streak. So I'd rather assume that the little perhaps half spoonful of chicken and cheese per popper is pretty representative, and in my opinion it's just not quite enough filling for all the dough.

That being said, the chicken-cheese-hot sauce filling is pretty decent. Personally, I woulda opted for more a classic bleu cheese or ranch to match with buffalo chicken instead of some sort of cream cheese/Cheddar hybrid. But for what it is, it's fairly tasty and proportionate to its components. I'd also add a little more buffalo to ramp up the spice, but that's not everyone's thing, I know.

In all, it's a great appetizer or snack. Pair with a cold 'n frosty IPA for a respectable bar-at-home type experience, or just nosh on for a little classic comfort vibe, and share with a friend. I was pretty happy with just two of them, which is surprising as a serving says it's three of them...maybe I'm beginning to learn restraint once more? Watch it, lockdown pounds. Matching 3.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken  Poppers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Feta, Pepper Drop and Olive Antipasto

This was a very educational purchase for me. Neither Sonia nor I had ever heard of pepper drops before. Apparently, they're native to Peru, they're sweet and sour, and they're teardrop-shaped. Not sure how I've made it this far in life without hearing about these fun and colorful little globs of flavor, but better late than never I always say. Sonia and I both thoroughly enjoyed the pepper drop element of this product. We wish there were a lot more of them.

Secondly, I don't think I've ever come across the word "toothsome" before today. It's right there on the front of the package. It's possible I've seen it before and it simply didn't register, but today is the day I'll add that adjective to my vocabulary and hopefully manage to work it into regular rotation. Although, I may alternate between that and "toothtacular," because why not?

Thirdly, I learned that when something has feta cheese as the number one ingredient, it's going to be absolutely bursting with lipids. Everything's betta with feta! Indeed. And feta cheese is the number one ingredient here. However, there's more than half a day's worth of fat in this single-serving container of antipasto. I mean, I never assumed feta was diet food or anything, so I should have seen it coming. But 54% of your RDA for fat is a little more than I was hoping for. Sonia's the one that pointed this out to me. She's actually far more horrified than I am.

It might not be a bad idea to pick up some bruschetta alongside this product so you don't waste all that good olive oil. The instructions on the container say to drain all the oil out before eating. That makes sense...because there's about a gallon of olive oil in that little 8oz package. If you're not into the whole hyperbole thing, there's apparently like an ounce and a half of olive oil, you know, if you do the math. But in actual practice, just count on a gallon or so. 

There's just lots of olive oil.

Also, there are many, many olives. I didn't mind them at first, but the wife and I were so enamored with the pepper drops that we found ourselves wishing there were fewer and fewer kalamata olives to make room for more of the tiny red and orange drops. Sonia's actually allergic to kalamatas, so I was tasked with eating them all. They are all pitted, which is a big plus. If I had to slow down and remove pits from each bite of this antipasto, it would have been a bummer. The way this year is going so far, I probably would have choked on one of them and Sonia and the dogs would have been left to weather the apocalypse without me. It would have been pitiful. Get it? PITiful? It's a joke.

Nevermind.

$4.99 for the container. Three and a half stars a piece on this product.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Cauliflower Jalapeño Dip

The heat of the summer is definitely not a favorite time of the year for Sonia and me. Don't get me wrong, I like wearing shorts and t-shirts rather than 18 layers of flannel and heavy outer garments, and taking a dip at the local pool is always fun—although, I don't even know if public pools are open this year. Are we swimming with masks on now? Does snorkel gear count as a mask? Darn you, 2020.

Eating ice cream and popsicles makes more practical sense when the weather's warm, so there's that. Also, cold, dairy-based dips and crisp veggies are good snacks for these higher temps. And here's a fun fact: spicy foods like jalapeno are helpful when it comes to staying cool and beating the summer heat. Apparently the spice makes you sweat without moving around a lot, and the moisture helps keep your body temperature low. Just think about it: most cultures that consume a lot of hot, spicy foods are found in warmer climates. See: Mexican food, Indian food, Thai food. Yum. Makes me sweaty just thinking about it. But that's kinda gross, so never mind.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—this dip isn't jalapeno-ey enough to make me sweat. It just flat out needs more spice if they're going to include "jalapeno" in the title of this product. There's just enough to provide a vague background warmth after consuming numerous bites of the condiment. There's very little kick up front.

The dip is quite creamy, however, and the cauliflower actually adds to said creaminess rather than detracting from it. It also lends an earthy, rich flavor that dairy alone might lack. Texture-wise, the dairy elements are very smooth, and the cauliflower must be pureed into oblivion, because there's hardly anything cauliflower-esque about the texture. There's just a hint of gritty coarseness.

All in all, it's not a far cry from any other cream cheese-based dip I've ever had. As much as the cauliflower flavor enhances this dip, I still think it could have worked with more cauliflower and less dairy flavor. If I were re-formulating version 2.0, I'd magnify the jalapeno presence nearly tenfold. There might be microscopic little bits of jalapeno in this version. I'd add substantial jalapeno pieces. Maybe not big slices like you'd find on a stack of nachos, but quarters of slices, perhaps.

Don't think this will be a repeat purchase. It's a neat idea, but it's just not memorable or flavorful enough, and there are way too many amazing dips already available at Trader Joe's. Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three stars from yours truly.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hibiscus Lemongrass Sparkling Beverage

Both Sonia and I have "black thumbs." We've attempted growing plants throughout the years both inside and outside, large plants and small, flowers and vegetables, succulents and cacti, and each and every time, we manage to kill them in short order.

We actually had some lemongrass when we lived in New Jersey to help mitigate the out-of-control mosquito population in our backyard. We'd read that it's best to dig up the lemongrass by the root and put them in planters and bring them inside for the winter, although alternatively, you could trim them back and put some kind of covering over them to protect them from frost. They actually do the same thing with palm trees at the shore. Not that there are many reasons to go there in the offseason, but if you ever find yourself in Wildwood in the winter, you'll see random skinny tropical trees with big plastic bags on the tops lining the vacant beaches and empty boardwalks.

Anyway, since we lacked the space to house multiple large lemongrass plants inside, we opted for the method where you leave them outside. The bags we put on them blew away and they were thoroughly exposed to frost for months on end and they never came back in the spring. Byebye, lemongrass.

But while we had the plants, they did seem to keep the mosquitoes at bay to a certain extent, and they provided a lovely citrusy fragrance that would waft through the yard on summer evenings. When I'd clip the lemongrass with the weed whacker inadvertently while doing yard work, the lemony smell was even more pleasant and powerful. 

I often wondered if I could grab a handful of their long skinny leaves and grind them into a pulp and use them as a seasoning for food or flavoring for a beverage. That's almost the notion I get from this interesting sparkling drink from TJ's—that some dude just wandered into his backyard and snagged some leaves and flowers and stuck it in his Soda Stream water and made a unique homemade thirst-quencher.

It tastes very non-commercial, if that makes sense. It's barely sweet at all and tastes quite planty. There's just a hint of that lemony lemongrass essence and a whole lot of hibiscus flavor. I mean, I guess that's misleading to say it has "a whole lot" of any flavor. The taste is quite mellow. It just errs on the side of flowery rather than lemony or grassy.

I wonder if I couldn't achieve something similar by just grabbing some dandelions and ivy from the local park and mixing them with fizzy water. All in all, it's unusual and refreshing, but the flavor isn't something that I'd seek out in the future. Sonia enjoys the taste much more than I do, but then she generally likes hibiscus, and I generally don't.

$4.99 for four 12oz cans. It makes an interesting adult beverage when mixed with gin, so I'll be kind and give it two and a half stars. Sonia will go with four this time.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins

Cauliflower thins...cauliflower thins....cauliflower thins...need to get the cauliflower thins....TJ's didn't have the cauilflower thins...cauliflower thins....

Despite my lovely bride's insistence that I don't listen all the time, that's something I kept hearing the past few weeks. Need to try the Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins. I will admit I never looked them up either, so I kinda presumed they were a like a cracker-type deal. We've had cauliflower-based snackers like those before, and our kids love 'em and we don't mind them, so it was plausible to me.

Nah. Cauiflower thins are "a delicious & versatile bread substitute," so it's something along the lines of cauliflower crust pizza, except in smaller form.

One thing to get outta the way: I strongly dislike the the word thins as a plural. To me, the word "thin" will always be more of an adjective than a noun. If I ever slip a -g on the end, and my admittedly lazy editing process doesn't catch it, I apologize in advance.

Anyways, as far as these non-carb breadlike discs go, the thins are okay. The ingredients state, in order, that they're mainly comprised of cauliflower, eggs and Parmesan cheese, yet somehow the cauli-coasters don't taste like any of them, really. Granted, cauliflower doesn't really taste like anything, and the other two may be more binding agents than anything, I guess...? Instead, its vaguely bread-like matter that seems a bit dense but kinda doughy, and pretty vaguely flavored. Nutritious, though. In some ways, I kinda imagine that this is what manna would be like. I'd get sick of it within 40 days, for sure, much less 40 years. Hard to describe. They're...there, but not much else can easily be described.

As far as versatility goes, I'd imagine there would be some. Sandy and I toasted ours up for an egg sandwich, and instead of breaking, the thins happily bent and curved like a taco. It'd be hard to imagine them getting crispy, but then again, anything's possible. See: 2020.

I'd love more time to experiment, but alas, an issue: Out of the four pack, even though we were several days before the best by date, two of them got slightly moldy, so into the trash. Not happy about that, but it happens, and something to watch for. On the bright side, that gives you, our reader, plenty of opportunity to chime in with how you've enjoyed yours. Hit us up.

There ya have it. TJ's cauli-thinny-things. I'm sure if we were going keto or back to paleo they may be higher on the list, but as a guy who generally prefers to drink and not eat his carbs, I can have a little appreciation for what they are. Somewhere around a three from both of us sounds right.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Fresh Squeezed Lemonade

Neither Sonia nor I can recall ever having truly homemade lemonade in our lives, which probably puts us among the least-qualified Americans to review this product. But heck, it's almost summer—the solstice is this weekend, in fact—and lemonade is very much a staple of these warmer months, so we'll take a look at it anyway.

I grew up with store-bought lemonades of various brands, most notably Minute Maid and Turkey Hill. I'm not sure why, but I don't think I had even heard of limeade until my teens. My head exploded when I first realized people did to limes what I had previously thought only done to lemons, and since that moment, I've been a limeade devotee.

Maybe it's a Latin-American thing, or possibly a west coast thing, but Sonia grew up with limeade as the staple citrus fruit-based beverage available in her childhood refrigerator. She's always preferred it to lemonade. So again, considering our bias towards limes over lemons and commercially-manufactured juices over the kind mama made, maybe we shouldn't be reviewing this fresh squeezed lemonade product...but here goes just the same.

We've seen numerous iterations of lemonade from Trader Joe's throughout the years, although most have been combined with other elements like tea or other juices. So what makes this one different?

First, it's unpasteurized. They keep all those tasty bacteria in this version—for extra flavor, I guess? Maybe the acidity of the lemon juice keeps the little buggers at bay without necessitating any heat via pasteurization. I'm sure someone will enlighten us via our illustrious comments section.

Second, there are only three ingredients. Three. Water, lemon juice, sugar. That's my favorite thing about this product. It's simple. In these days of complexity, it's nice to see something so clean and straightforward.

Mind you, if I had been the one formulating this product, I might have reversed those last two ingredients. I might have put sugar ahead of lemon juice and made this beverage predominantly sweet, rather than tart. I'm not saying it's not sweet. I'm just saying it leans in the direction of sour more than sugary. Sonia agrees. It's still refreshing. It's still got what I would assume is a "homemade quality" about it.

We both liked it just fine, but we would like to see a Trader Joe's Fresh Squeezed Limeade on the shelves next time with the exact same ingredients used here, except with "lime juice" replacing "lemon juice." Limes are sweeter than lemons, so that might knock the tartness down a notch. Also, tequila works okay with lemonade, but it's absolutely perfect with lime-based beverages. Am I right?

If you love the tartness of real lemon juice, you'll likely love this remarkably uncomplicated beverage. $3.49 for the 1.6 quart bottle. This product gets three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Corn Cookie Mix

Corn. It's everywhere and in everything. It's across the street from where I grew up in suburban Philadelphia - even between all the fancy residential developments and retail shopping centers that seemingly try to devour them all, a corn field still remains. It's like the entire middle of America, right? I know that's not precisely true but it's what a lot of people say anyways, and most of us kinda smile and nod. It was on my dinner plate last night in it's classic on-the-cob form, and is most nights anyways as a somewhat sneaky food ingredient that's in almost everything it seems.

That's not all, of course. Corn is used to make everything from fuel to plastics to heck, even spark plugs these days. You can't get away from it even if you tried.

Despite all this, seeing something like Trader Joe's Corn Cookie Baking Mix was a bit of a surprise. Cookies...featuring corn? And we don't mean like candy corn, either. Like, actual real corn...as a selling feature and not just as HFCS or any of that stuff.

Apparently the concept of a corn cookie has been around for a while. I've just never heard of it, which is par for the course for me of course. At first impression and without much further research, there seems to be like a 1950s vibe to the idea. I'd welcome to be corrected by anyone more knowledgeable than me.

Anyways, the TJ's cookies. They're super easy to make. A cannister of the mix, two sticks of unsalted butter and a large egg are all that's needed to make two dozen corn cookies. Or if you're like me and can't make even sized dough balls, it might be more like 30. Anyways, just mix those all up to a smooth batter, which will likely take a few minutes - I was staring at a mishmash of crumbs for a while until it just magically came together.

Now, imagine cornbread. And imagine a decently crispy, light sugar cookie. And think of the two of them smashed together, with the graininess of the cornbread being stripped away. That's almost precisely what these cookies taste like. It's a bit odd at first but it gets more comfortable on repeated bites. the flavor comes in a wave - first, it's unmistakably corny, but then transitions to a sweet, almost creamy cookie taste. It's like cornbread but sweeter, and like a cookie but cornier. And it actually kinda works.

Naturally this got me a little curious to try a little experimentation. I sprinkled a little cinnamon atop one. That worked nicely. But then I got the courage to go bold. How do these corn cookies and, say, a little Everything but the Elote Seasoning go together? Or heck even a cookie and a pickled jalapeno? I will say I tried them both and wasn't completely offput by the experience. The pepper pairing was better than the elote eloping in my opinion, but then again, I'm not a huge fan of the elote stuff anyways. I know. Shame on me. 

It is important to note that the first ingredient of the TJ corn cookie mix is, in fact, wheat. Sorry, glutenfree folks out there.

As a whole, neither my lovely bride nor I nor our kids absolutely love or hate the corn cookies. A repeat purchase is entirely debatable and may be subject to any suggestions for other ways of using the mix. There's nothing revolting about them, for sure, but nothing that really gathers our enthusiasm either. We'll go double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Corn Cookie Mix: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coconut & Almond Creamer

Ahh, coffee. So good, right? And who knew how wrong I've been making it for years?

It's simple, actually. We just bought a kitchen scale for use for baking and fermenting, but my lovely bride Sandy just realized we should be using it to make coffee, too, for our French press. Something about 1 gram of coffee for every 15 grams of water or something....for someone one so math adverse as her, I'm surprised she took it on. But dang! Awesome coffee every time she's made it that way. Smooth, mild, highly drinkable, enough kick. Coffeehouse quality, as simple as that, for a fraction of the cost.

Of course, I haven't embraced or learned this new to us method quite yet, so when I had to make some brew to get us going yesterday, I reverted to the old ways. Grind some beans, dump in an approximate amount, pour water til it looked about right. Result? Comparatively speaking, it was barely drinkable. Looks like I'm going have to do some coffee break science from now on.

About the only thing that made my coffee drinkable was Trader Joe's Coconut & Almond Creamer. Or so says Sandy, I choked down my coffee as is, but when she's gone for creamy coffee recently this has been her choice.

Obviously, it's dairy free. So that's an okay start...we both can handle lactose just fine but prefer to save as much as we can for cheese. Coconut creamer can tend to be a little too heavy, while almond creamer never really seems to make coffee quite creamy enough by itself, so a good blend of the two seems to make the right kind of sense to approximate "regular" creamer the closest.

Not too much coconut or almond flavor comes through - a little, sure, but it's not gonna taste like a flavored latte. The small hint of vanilla helps smooth all that over as well.

 Anyways if you're looking for a decent dairy-free alternative to the usual half and half, giving this one a try wouldn't be a bad idea. I have a feeling we'll be restocking on an as-needed basis, until I can convince Sandy to go all black coffee like I do. I don't have much of say here, so like our old way of making coffee, I'm gonna approximate and hope for the best when I say a seven overall. I forgot to take a pic of the nutritional info so check it out here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Coconut & Almond Creamer: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle

Like most of Everclear's song catalog, there's some things in life I used to love but now can hardly tolerate any more.

Like sauerkraut, there's other things in life I used to deplore but now enjoy.

And like the phrase "social distancing," I'm pretty sure there's some stuff that I'll just never get around to really cherishing, pretty much no matter what.

It's said that taste buds change every few years. I can see that happening - I used to do spicier than I can now, I like me vanilla more than chocolate most times these days. I change my mind on Yuengling about every five years as well.

But still, if there were one constant in my life, one thing that I always offered scorn and no adoration whatsoever, it'd be this: ketchup.

Never liked it, not even as a kid. Can't figure out why, it's just always been gross to me. Right now I live within literal walking distance of where Heinz squeezed their first tomato into an American staple, it matters not. Ketchup = nope.

I'm not alone in this, I know, but there's been some like-minded people who said that Trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle was a game changer for them. I've seen it on the Interwebs so it must be true.  So here goes.

First off: as an immediate plus, it's in a glass jar and not a squeeze bottle. I HATE squeeze bottles, especially when it gives a constipated sounding squelchy toot and watery discharge. Just...ugh. Glass jar for this highbrowed-sounding condiment, so a plus.

Everything else....ehhhhh. I don't hate it. but I don't like it either. I don't consume ketchup often, if ever, but the base strikes me as more or less a basic ketchup-y kinda sauce. It's maybe a tad sweeter, with a different consistency somehow, but whether ot nor that's accurate in a describable way is not really my wheelhouse. The truffles offer a decent backended twinge of umami-ish flavor that's pretty welcome. It's a nice kinda savory take, and I can see some people swooning over it. For me, it doesn't make up for the fact that it's all still ketchup. At least it's not catsup.

I was able to place a small portion on my plate, dab a couple fries into it, and take on down without too much struggle. So I don't mind that this new TJ's trufflicious ketchup exists, but it hasn't changeed my mind. My normally ketchup-loving kiddos werren't so fond on it either. it'll probably be up to Sandy, my lovely bride, to finsih up the remaining 7/8ths of the jar, which is gonna take a while. But at least it's hers. Happy Belated Mother's Day, love.

In her usually correct way, Sandy's asserting that the only reason why i'd dare give something like this a low score is only because I'm simply convinced I don't like ketchup. So take my score with a grain of salt - it's a two. I recognize it's quality but I'm not a fan, and that's ok. She'll go with a little higher.

Bottom line: trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Greek Style Yogurt Dip

Pumpkin. Mango. Cookie Butter. Coffee. 

Trader Joe's latches on to certain themes and just goes downright crazy from time to time. I think we're on our fourth or fifth EBTB product at this point.

The thing about EBTB is that it comes in a shaker. It's designed to be put on/in anything and everything you want to try it with. It'd be pert near impossible to get pumpkin, mango, cookie butter, or coffee in the right ratios in the products that Trader Joe's has offered, but Everything But the Bagel Seasoning? I might be overestimating the average TJ's shopper, but I think we can handle mixing it into stuff ourselves.

If you do internet searches for "Everything But the Bagel Dip" you'll inevitably run across more than one result that mentions "Copycat Everything But the Bagel Dip."

The process for creating this copycat dip goes something like: 1) Take Greek yogurt 2) Add Trader Joe's Everything But the Bagel Seasoning.

As culinarily dim as I can be sometimes, I think even I might have been able to figure that one out.

So...most of our complaints about this product aren't that it tastes bad or has a poor texture, but rather that it couldn't possibly hurt to simply make your own. Sonia wanted lots more EBTB flavor. I thought the amount was just about right, but just for kicks, I tried adding my own, and I felt that the seasoning was somehow a little more crisp and potent when freshly added. 

I felt like something was lost by having the EBTB seasoning submerged in the yogurt indefinitely. The seeds just crackled in my mouth a bit more when they were fresh. I guess seeds don't really get "soggy" but perhaps they were a bit too soft...? Also, by adding your own EBTB to a yogurt dip, you can purposefully keep the dip dry and on top of the mixture, whereas all the elements are thoroughly stirred together in this mixture. An even better idea would be to have two separate little dishes side by side: one with Greek yogurt, and the other with Everything but the Bagel. Then you could roll your yogurt-covered carrot or what have you in the EBTB, getting just as much of it to stick as you'd like. You'd maintain the crunch and dryness of the EBTB while still adding Greek yogurt flavor to the mix.

Taste-wise, there's plenty of Greek yogurt tang in this dip. You can taste most of the constituent seasoning ingredients, as well, although your mileage may vary when it comes to whether you think there's enough of it or not. 

$3.50 for the tub. The nutrition info is innocent enough at 60 calories per serving. It's a tasty condiment, and it goes with just about anything you'd want to eat with yogurt dip. Even though it's traditionally cream cheese you put on a bagel, this works in place of it passably despite its relative thinness, in case you're looking for a lower calorie alternative. 

I just can't see us buying this product again, as we'd almost universally prefer to create our own concoctions with EBTB. Three and a half stars from the missus. Three from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's These Sprinkles Walk Into a Sandwich Cookie

I'm cookie-jaded. 

I've just seen way too many cookies from Trader Joe's. They just keep churning them out year after year, and we, foolishly-enough, just keep reviewing them. 

Since Sonia and I don't have any human children of our own, to get a more accurate score, it occurred to me I should hop in the car, drive into a nearby suburban neighborhood, and offer the local kids some of these Sprinkles Walk Into a Sandwich Cookie treats. And it immediately occurred to me thereafter that it might turn into an episode of Nathan Walks Into a Prison Cell if I did that. I mean, I'd have the best intentions, of course. But creepy old bald dudes waving colorful sweets around probably wouldn't be welcome around unfamiliar neighborhoods during these trying and paranoid times. Obviously we do have some friends and acquaintances with kids, but none of them are close-by at the moment. Anyway, I'm getting off the subject.

Cookies. Gosh-darn, freaking, bloody heck. Why'd it have to be cookies? Why did we even buy these cookies, you ask? Because once in a while they impress us. And when you're shopping with low blood sugar, almost anything seems like it'll be appetizing and delicious once you get back home.

So...considering how sick of cookies I am, these are another noble effort on the part of TJ's, I guess. Couldn't they make them organic or throw fair-trade quinoa into them somehow? Guess not. Sprinkles this time. Colorful, festive sprinkles—to celebrate the partial re-opening of our nation or something like that.

We've got above-average quality butter cookies here. They're not soft or anything. They're crispy, which is fine. But I always prefer soft. The sprinkles are super bright and happy, you know, if you're into that sort of thing.

But that buttercream frosting...that's the highlight for me. It's a little sweeter than I would have preferred, but there's a very rich authentic dairy cream flavor that's scrumptious. It's a fresh milky taste that I've never experienced in pre-packaged shelf-stable cookies before. That's what sets these jovial sandwich cookies just a notch above most other big name sandwich cookies I've had.

I can only eat one of these at a time. They're very rich, buttery, super sweet, and dense. They go great with a glass of cold milk. Just one cookie, and I'm ready to down the whole glass, you know, just chugging away.

Repeat purchase? Heck no. Trader Joe's will have some newfangled cookie nonsense we'll have to review before we could ever purchase these again, even if we did have a specific hankerin' for them, which, as good as they are, I don't think would ever really happen. 

To score, I'll suppress the cookie cynic and put myself in the shoes of someone that might be in the mood to eat cookies regularly. Um...three and a half? Yeah that sounds fair. Sonia? Three and a half as well. She's not as jaded about cookies as I am, and she really loved the packaging here, but she was appalled by the fat content at 8g per cookie. Her grown-up cookie-consumer insight of the day: have sugary cookies with coffee to mitigate the sweetness. Brilliant.

Seven stars total seems objective enough to me. Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Many Things Snack Mix

Many things. So...many...things.

Your things might be different than my things, but we all got so many things.

Well, so does our favorite grocer with the new Trader Joe's Many Things Snack Mix. Trader Joe's does many things well, so how do they do Many Things?

Might as well hit this head on: there's really no great reinterpretation of the wheel here. Just a cursory glance in the little product window on the front confirms exactly what the inspiration for this snack bag: the ubiquitous all time American classic chowtime grub Chex Mix. Hats off to Chex, really, for turning a rather mundane breakfast cereal into a snacktime staple that's as famous as it is munchable.

Cereal squares? Pretzels? Peanuts? Little bread chips? Goofy corn stick kinda dealies? Checks (and Chex) all around.

There's a couple small differences. If these were a General Mills product, they'd likely label this as "spicy honey" or some sort of alternate take on the tried and true Worcestershire original. A closer look reveals there's actually two types of cereal squares - "spicy" with a much more reddish appearance, and "honey butter" with a more subdued look. That's not to say the flavors are mutually exclusive, or even all that different, but the spicy ones are slightly spicier while the honey ones slightly more accentuate, well, honey. I don't really taste any butter, though.

The peanuts also are honey roasted, and are kinda interesting. By their lonesome selves, they're not too terribly noteworthy, but occasionally, perhaps in the right random proportion of other snacky tidbits, the flavor "takes off" a littlke bit and "grows." I don't how else to say it, and I can't easily replicate it or state what the exact mix should be to optimize this feature, but there it is.

Everything else is as expected, more or less. The pretzels taste like pretzels, the "savory bread chips" are tasty with a nice little touch of chives. As far as the corn sticks, they taste like corn and salt, no lime detected like the ingredients state. I think some "everything but the elote" style sticks would have been a better choice, but maybe that's just me.

The end result? Tatses like a Chex Mix variation, and a decent, not spectacular, one at that. A couple handfuls pair well with an IPA tall boy, so not gonna argue with that at all. The TJ's snack mix is definitely tasty enough for repeat munching, but unsure for repeat buys unless for a road trip or for a quick snack on the go.

That's about as many things as I can say about Many Things right now, except it's final score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Many Things Snack Mix: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Springle Jangle

Ah, at long last the vernal equivalent of the longstanding Yuletide favorite Jingle Jangle is here. Wait. Was there really anybody asking for this? Is this really something Trader Joe's needed to add to their lengthy lineup of fancifully-packaged chocolatey snacks?

Let's be honest. If you happened to purchase a tin of Trader Joe's Jingle Jangle at Christmas time, I'd bet dollars to donuts you still have some left in the container now that spring has rolled around some four months later. Granted, we have a small family, but we sure had a good bit left over many months hence after we bought it near Christmas 2014, and we used it as a photo double for gourmet elephant poop the following April.

First of all, chocolate isn't something I'm craving a lot right when the weather gets warm in the springtime. It makes my skin oily and it melts in my hand before it ever gets to my mouth.

There's only one element in this mix that's not prone to melting, and that's the "butter toffee peanuts," and there just aren't anywhere close to enough of them in the package. They're the only novel element in the jar—the only item I feel like I haven't consumed a million times before. Apparently, Trader Joe's does/did offer a butter toffee peanut product all by itself, and it's now available on...walmart.com??? 

At any rate, they did throw me a bone and add one white chocolate element in this spring version of the snack mix. Oh wait. Sorry, that's "yogurt," not white chocolate. Is there any difference? Yogurt-covered pretzels are just fine in my book, especially when they're slathered in pretty pink and yellow nonsense. How festive. I'm sure TJ's wanted this product out by Easter, but life and lockdowns happened, and they couldn't get the item on shelves in time. No worries. It's still spring.

The nonpareils, dark chocolate Joe-Joe's bark, and pastel-colored fake M&M's AKA spring candy gems are all pieces I'd happily do without at all in this mix. The peanut butter cups are tasty, because, you know... peanut butter and chocolate. I prefer the milk chocolate version and would happily lose the dark chocolate ones, though. I must admit, there are fewer M&M dealies in this mix than in the original, so that's a plus.

At $4.99, it's much smaller and cheaper than the massive Jingle Jangle tin, but it's still overpriced by my estimation. It's basically a cylinder of chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, yogurt pretzels, and candy peanuts. Since it's aesthetically-pleasing and there are fewer candy gems and a little something white chocolate-esque, we won't shaft it too badly and will bestow it with the same scores we gave the original.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah

When all this is finally behind us, and if you're then planning to go to Philadelphia for whatever reason, be sure to make a stop at Reading Terminal Market, especially if you've never been. You won't be disappointed.

It's amazing. There's all the Amish vendors selling baked goods, the best pork sandwich you will ever eat, some rather interesting food oddities, and food from across the world, all in a tight, crammed little space. As a bonus, it's only a short and safe walk away from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, which are naturally pretty darn historic and a bit awe-inspiring as well.

It's also pretty much the only place I knew where to buy halvah.

What's halvah? I had no idea either until Sandy picked some up there on our last trip around Christmas time. It's delicious, is what it is.

And now, of course, perhaps Columbusing halvah to the masses, is good ol' TJ's with Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah. Find it stashed right next to the cash registers for an interesting litle pick up.

So, halvah...okay. Imagine like almond or sunflower seed butter, all dried up into a kinda crispy mass. Now, instead of those, it's tahini, or sesame seed butter. Yup, the same kinda stuff that gets put into hummus, except I guess that might be more oil? Anyways, yeah.

Halvah in general, and TJ's in particular, has an interesting texture. It's firm yet soft, dry yet not arid, chalky yet not crumbly. You can tear yourself a chunk at ease, yet it falls apart nearly instantly when bitten. It's kinda like magic, and that's how a good halvah tastes.

The TJ's type, in comparison, does seem a bit more firm than the couple bites we have left of the "real deal" from Philly. There's more similarity than not, so I'd say it veers towards authentic in terms of texture, but it's not all the way there. Sandy says it more closely tastes like a halvah candy bar which she's had somewhere - seriously, where that girl gets her treats sometimes, I just don't know.

Naturally, there's a zillion varieties. What Sandy got at Reading Terminal was pistachio halvah - tastes like heaven. In comparison, a cocoa vanilla swirl flavor from TJ's is bit not too exotic-y. But I get it. Playing safe with a familiar flavor might be more enticing for the otherwise ignorant shopper (which I fit the mold of more times than not). It's pretty basic chocolate and vanilla too, even a little plain to be honest. I would have loved another flavor, like more pistachio or honey or other traditional flavors.

It's also kinda odd to me the way the TJ's halvah is packaged. There's ten little individually fun size wrapped pieces inside the bag. Seems kinda wasteful, unless you want to be the neighborhood oddball to hoard these to distribute to all the lil Tiger Kings and Carol Baskinses that'll be trick-or-treating this fall (God willing).

Anyways, the halvah's worth the try for the $3 or so. Like other TJ's selections, it just might help you discover something new to enjoy. It's good enough and approximates the real deal close enough, and dangit, I'm a man of many things, and a halvah snob isn't one of them. I'm just hoping for some more flavor variety. Our kiddos didn't seem to enjoy it much so it may be more of a grown up treat, for what it's worth. Between the two of us purported grown ups we'll hit with a seven.

Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.