Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Wafer Cookie

There's certain formulas for success that you just don't mess with. For example, almost all country music. It's solid, not spectacular, but when the mood is right, it works, at least for me.

Kinda like a KitKat candy bar.

Country music isn't my preferred genre by any stretch. On any list of favorite candy bars, I'm not sure KitKats would be anywhere in my top twenty or so. But when I got the right hankering, there's no questioning how good and right a KitKat is. Right snap. Right texture. Right amount of chocolate and crispy innards. Right amount of everything.

It's enough that I kinda forget that KitKats are just chocolate covered wafers...until having a Trader Joe's Chocolate Coered Wafer Cookie and realizing how much unlike a KitKat they are.

And unfortunately I don't mean it is a compliment.

Never really occured to me that there'd be a right or a wrong way tmake such a simple confectionary concoction, but apparently so. These TJ choco-wafers, in comparison to KitKats, lack significantly. First off, there's so much less chocolate. Part of that is basic structure - the single snappable unitness of KitKats versus the solid TJ's slab - but part is also application. While KitKats have a respectably thick chocolate layer, these TJ cookie bars have such a thin layer I'd call it chocolate leaf. I mean, you can see the wafer through the chocolate. No bueno.

Maybe that's why the TJ chocolate wafers also feel a little different. It's like there's not the same snap. The wafer itself tastes all in all the same, but man...nah. It's off.

Can't mess with the classics too much, I guess. Or at least you shouldn't.

We're not big on these, and will probably never buy again. I think both Sandy and I are sparing a point each for there being sugar and chocolate but otherwise we have no enthusiasm for these KitKat wannabes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Coered Wafer Cookie: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies

So if chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows...chocolate eggs come from chocolate chickens, right? That's gotta be how that works.

Don't laugh. Easter is coming up soon, and among many other things, that means it's Cadbury Creme Egg season. They have to come from somewhere. A factory? That's laughable. A chocolate chicken farm must exist, even if only in some Wonkaified version of reality, with those choco-chickens laying choco-eggs, and occasionally one or two of them drop and crack...

...because where else would we get Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies from? It's science, right?

All kidding aside, here's our first somewhat seasonally themed installment of yet even more holiday candy. You know, because the recent gauntlet of Halloween, Christmas and Valentine's Day wasn't quite enough...I digress. These eggies appear to be a fun novelty type item, and hey, it 's chocolate, can't be a bad thing, right? Right?

Well...

"Bad" isn't the right word for the TJ yolkies. But "delicious" isn't quite yet either. As you can see, it's milk chocolate exterior, with a pool of white chocolate inside, with a yellow mounded candy melt-type construction atop, all made to resemble some sort of egg/square hybrid. The whole shebang is a little heftier than they look.

Oh, and inside that that yellow dome is a teeny itty bitty squirt of caramel sauce, to be resemble something like a runny egg yolk. It'd work....if there were more caramel. There's barely any! That leaves the whole candy seeming like a big square of, in all, fairly nondescript chocolate. Good chocolate, but pretty plain.

I could see these being a fun toss in for a kid's Easter basket. At $2.69, it's not an awful price for something kinda fun. Most likely though, it'd leave something to be desired for us big kids. Sandy didn't even bother finishing hers and said, somewhat dejectedly, "I feel like I wasted my treat tonight." Ouch. I'm not quite that forlorn, but I'd be okay with them not coming around again, either. No offense to the chocolate chickens, but they definitely did kinda lay an egg here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes

Now for something completely exciting...potatoes.

When packing a lunch for school for our kindergartner M, either Sandy or I like to draw her a little note for her to see at lunch time. A little something to make her laugh or think is cute or whatever to let her know we're thinking about her. And by either Sandy or I, I usually mean Sandy, because I can't draw worth a crap. Recently, we've been on a Thanksgiving theme kick, and just so happened that I had to do one for her last week on a particularly busy morning...

I drew her a potato.

I mean, kinda cute one, maybe...or at least recognizable as potato, with haphazard Kawaii style eyes, a smile, with the words MASH ME. M at least said she liked it and smiled when I asked her, but yeah, she was not too excited about her potato.

We're not all that excited about these Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes, either.

It's not that it's a bad potato. It's....just a potato. I don't get it. I don't understand what the deal is. Maybe I'm unenlightened and all that...but seriously, these hback taters seem to be nothing more than a spud half-slashed by Wolverine and stuck in a box and frozen. Sure, a little butter and salt, but the outcome tastes not unlike a regular baked potato that you may or may not want to dress up a little more yourself.

Unlike other prepared veggie side dishes, you can't even really make a convenience argument here. Here's how to make your own for a fraction of the cost. That...doesn't really look complicated at all. Granted, these TJ taters take about half the time, so they must be at least partially baked before getting iced over...which reminds me. If you do buy these, bake for a little longer than the instructed 30 minutes. My spuds had some ice-cold nether regions on them still after half an hour. No bueno.

Kids liked them, we liked them...we're partially Irish, of course we're gonna like potatoes. But there's nothing special or cool or Trader Joe's-y or anything about these taters. Not even like a funky/cool spice blend. They're just partially baked/partially sliced potatoes, in a freezer box, and I'll be darned if their existence didn't make me try to think of potato/David Hasselhoff puns for at least half an hour and I can't think of a single one. Do you understand how frustrating that is? There's got to be at least one. Please. Help me.

Not a complete failure, but far from a success. Between all of us here, can't muster any excitement or a higher score. Matching 2s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Bourbon Barrel Aged Coffee

Come on now, sing it with me!

"Roll out the barrels, we'll have a barrel of fun...."

Wait, you're not singing. What's the matter? Not awake enough and need more coffee? Or not "loose" enough and need a stiff drink?

Well, why not have both? Here's a fresh mug of Trader Joe's Bourbon Barrel Aged Coffee.

Of course, this new TJ's boozy barrel inspired brew is non-alcoholic...but man, is that tough to tell from all appearances. Most bourbonic products are plagued by a decided subtlety that leaves hardly a trace of Kentucky's finest contribution to man this side of George Clooney and Louisville sluggers.

But, not here. No, not at all. The beans themselves weren't overly aromatic in a boozy way, but once Sandy and I had our steaming cups...whoa. I'd be scared to make this at work for fear of being called down to HR. One wrong waft sent awry and someone would report it, it's that strong.

Tastes that strong too. I'd say brewing the coffee at suggested strength tasted like a whole shot was poured into each mug. The outcome leaves something to be desired. The coffee itself is mellow and smooth, a little on the sweet side without offering too much if any bitterness that either coffee or bourbon can have. But it's absolutely heavy on the bourbon notes, really heavy, which brings me to my next point...

This coffee's discombobulating. I swear, it plays mind tricks with me. I taste booze, my mind senses it and tells my body I must be drinking booze, even though I'm not...thereby helping negate any positive lift I may get from drinking my coffee. I need my coffee for caffeine, dang it.

At least there's not a decaf version as of yet. That'd be really pointless. Bourbon inspired coffee without either alcohol or caffeine? Pass!

There's a whole write up on the side about how it's a two-year aging process with careful bean rotation to ensure each bean comes in contact with the bourbon barrels...sounds a bit OCD and overboard, but hey, the process worked. I cannot imagine a coffee tasting any more like bourbon, or bourbon tasting any more like coffee. It's a weird, imperfect marriage.

Sandy and I had high hopes, and while not completely crashed, we're both down on the bourbon coffee at this time. There's some potential if we mix some regular coffee beans in, we'll have a more pleasant experience. Also, instead of a morning cup, this has more of an afternoon/after dinner kinda feel to it. More mellow. Made poor Sandy feel a little ill afterwards, though she did say she'd be willing to try again.

Anyways, not an awful speculative buy at $10 for the canister, which is mid-range for TJ's prices. If you don't like it, you can always return, no problem. We are considering it but want to experiment first. Any suggestions, please share. Until then, we're going with some low marks here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Bourbon Barrel Aged Coffee: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Purple Carrot Juice

I'm aware purple carrots are a thing. I've seen them, heard about them, and have even eaten them cooked on one occasion. But somehow, my fleeting experience with them didn't quite prepare me for the taste of this beverage.

If you're someone who's a huge health nut, eats organic, and is quite familiar with purple carrots and their flavor, I'm sure this juice will be far less disappointing for you than it was for me. For a foodie-hack reviewing his way through Trader Joe's offerings—everything from organic quinoa to cookie butter cheesecake, I must say, this product was on the more unpleasant end of the spectrum. If I'm going to pay four bucks for one liter of juice, it's nice to know that it's good for me, but I was also hoping I could stomach the taste a little better, too.

Both Sonia and I immediately noted the similarity to beet juice. No, not beetlejuice. Beet juice—which thanks (or maybe no thanks) to Trader Joe's, we're familiar with as well. Must be the purpleness that makes it taste like beets. Am I right?

It also does taste vaguely like traditional carrots, but not quite as much as I expected it to. The splash of lemon is barely detectable. A bit more of that tartness might have helped, but I doubt it would have done much to influence the overall essence of the drink.

The WG@TJ's team has encountered carrot juice in the past. Even purple carrot juice once before. But in each of those previous cases, the beverage was heavily sexed up with more palatable juices like grape, apple, and/or orange. I think that's what we need here. I'm happy this beverage is organic and healthy and all, but the drinkability factor needs a little help.

Sonia's been trying to do that thing where you drink like two teaspoons of apple cider vinegar a few times a day for weight loss and heath, and she thinks this product is barely more drinkable than raw vinegar. However, she wants to like it and assumes that the taste will grow on her. It won't. I know her. But she gives it a generous three stars anyway.

I kinda want to like it, too. But I don't. I'll give it two stars since it's organic and "good-for-me." 

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Cold Brew Mocha Nut Latte

July. Hot hot hot. Or, if in Pennsylvania like me, it's beginning to get humid too. Real humid. Granted, it's not the sweltering unrelenting steam of late July-to-mid-September that feels like a homicidal dishwasher going full tilt with the door cracked open quite yet, but it's coming. You desert people with your dry heat - you're lucky. I've been in 115 degree heat that's been dry and more comfortable than mid-80's and 10000% humidity.

Still need coffee. We've been over this. I don't need to sell you on the idea that cold brew coffee is a great idea for summer months.

So if TJ's comes out with one, I'm gonna try it. So here's Trader Joe's Organic Cold Brew Mocha Nut Latte. Seems to be a break from my normal black brew - not the worst thing in the world, can use some flavor every once in a while, so here's a swig....

....uhhh, what the H-E-double bendi straw is THAT? This isn't coffee. it's not even close. "Brown chalky liquid somewhat resembling coffee" may be a more apt description.

First of all, I didn't see this before sipping, there's liquefied dates in here. As a predominant ingredient, as in, like, right after water. Ugh. Don't get me wrong, I like dates. I've had coffee and dates for breakfast. I like dates with my coffee. I like coffee with my dates. I like going on dates to get coffee. I like drinking coffee to get along with my date, err, I mean, wife. All that being said, I do not need dates in my coffee, especially when it adds this weird chunky pulpy complexion....

...which is only added to by both almond and cashew milk. I have no problem with either individually or mixed together, and prefer over regular cow juice, to be honest, but by themselves they push beverage texture to about its max for me. Inclusion of said dates pushes it over.

There's so much earthy groundlike flavor going on that it's almost easy to overlook the actual coffee aspect. it's there, but not nearly strong enough for my liking. Disclaimer: Usually I drink unadulterated black, so take it for what its worth. There's some vanilla and cinnamon, I guess, and obviously a nutty flavor, but mocha? Not to me. Just weird nutty creamy datey coffeesque stew. Yum. Not.

Not a fan, as you've guessed by now. Sandy enjoys more than I do, but also notes that the chalkchunkpulp issue is a major putoff, enough that despite liking the flavor she stated she will not purchase again. Somehow this warrants a three in her book. Me? Nowhere close to that, and it's not the heat getting to me. It's just not that good, at all. Blah.



Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Cold Brew Mocha Nut Latte: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Vienna Coffee Meringues

These things are cavities just waiting to happen. 

There's something chalky about the texture that makes biting into these meringues like the dental equivalent of nails on a chalkboard for me. Due to their brittleness, many of the cookies were broken before we even opened the tub. They generally disintegrate into a chunky tan powder upon first bite, and they leave behind a tacky residue on fingers and lips. 

The parts of the meringues that do make it into your mouth are somewhat crunchy, but since they consist of mostly sugar and egg whites, they have a melt-in-your-mouth quality that's fairly pleasant. Their flavor is that of a sugar-sweetened sweetness with a bit more candied sugary sugar on top. There's a hint of coffee in there somewhere, too. And normally, I think we'd want the coffee flavor to come through a tad more, except that we're a bit coffee'd out right now.

We're well aware of Trader Joe's Vanilla Meringue Cookies, the predecessor to this coffee variety—one product that's been in that "After Heating Up These Dinners You'll Need To Gorge Yourself On Lots Of Candy And Cookies" aisle for years, and yet somehow has eluded our sights on this blog. A reader mentioned that these are very much like those, except for the faint coffee flavor, of course.

Sonia appreciates their visual appeal more than their flavor or texture. She says, "They're pretty, but they're not very tasty." She also likes the label on the packaging. How very graphic designery of her.

For that reason, they would be nice for a party or something like that where a bunch of people would just have one or two and then move along to graze on another snack. I can't see these being gobbled down by the dozen by very many people, but usually when I make claims like that, I turn out to be wrong. So who knows? These weren't Sonia's favorite, and they're definitely not mine, but if you want to sing their praises in the comments below, be our guest.

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

Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pork Rib Bites

Gotta give my wife Sandy credit.

Not just for putting up with me for nearly 10 years now. Although that's quite a feat in and of itself. Believe it or not, I'm not the easiest guy in the world to put up with. You shoulda seen the other morning when we had a hissyfit over Tupperware, namely the collection I had at work and the corresponding lack thereof for home supplies. Not pretty. We're still trying to abide by the marriage rule we established of "No talkie before coffee."

But also....she's changed. Quite a bit. In a good way. She's so much more adventurous now for food than she was when I first met her. I distinctly remember one of our early dates (maybe our fifth?), back when I had to really worry about impressing her, so I wanted to make her dinner....and was so worried she wouldn't like homemade chocolate chip cookies. Seriously. It was valid concern.

Not all that long ago, a product like Trader Joe's Pork Rib Bites wouldn't be on her radar at all. Something-something "looks too saucy", "meat on bone", or some sort of anti-meat sentiment would stop her from giving them a try. But because of my slow, persistent, and carne-abiding ways, I've finally gotten over to the world of enjoying things like meatloaf and smoked meats and sausage and such. Heck, she even tried scrapple on account of me.

And as of a few weeks ago, she was really excited about these pork bites and couldn't wait to try them. So she picked up a couple boxes for our crew and brought them home and planned a nice little meal around them and everything. Thanks, love.

Unfortunately, the piggy poppers would have been best left on the shelves.

Maybe a bit harsh, but I was not a huge fan of them. The problem wasn't the sauce - as you can see, there's ample amount. It's mild but smoky, with some depth - a good, decent Kansas City style sauce that would appeal to the masses. Think of a decent generic BBQ sauce and you'd get a close approximation to the sauce splattered all across the bites. it's the meat itself. It's....just not great. Granted, rib meat isn't always the best and choicest cuts, but even by those standards, it was gristley and chewy with some definite hard-to-chew bits. A lot of the bigger bites were dry once getting past the saucey outer stratospheres. The boned part took up at least half the meat chunk, leaving me with the impression that the price point ($5ish for the box) wasn't a great value.

The meat deficiencies were at least probably partially due to the fact that the bites are fully cooked, but requires 25 minutes or so of heating in the oven. Seems overkill. But I did as I was told.

And the packaging...ugh. There's the big box on the outside, with a much smaller plastic baggie inside holding the bites. There's no reason for the outer box at all except to make the purchase look bigger than it actually is. Common practice, I know, so I hesitate to call it deceptive,  but it is something to be aware of.

Sandy actually seemed to enjoy them much more than I did. Maybe I'm turning into the picky one. But I would have been happier, personally, buying a package of raw ribs and grilling and basting them with another sauce (on the recommendation of many readers, would definitely try the new Yuzu sauce!) then buying them again. I guess there's a "convenience" factor here, but still, I'd pass. I can't give them more than a two, at most, if only because the sauce was pretty decent for what it was. My ever-tolerant spouse, though? She's happy doling at a perfectly middle of the road three of them. As always, she's more gracious than she oughtta be.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pork Rib Bites: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Jingle Jangle Ice Cream

There's a certain allure to places like Coldstone Creamery, or the local frozen yogurt place where you can put in all your own mix-ins, isn't there? It feels like an ice cream laboratory, where you, the Dessert Doctor, concoct your own blend of all sorts of various ingredients then devour it all. It's cool. You're in control. You know what you're doing. You're going to make the Best. Ice Cream. Ever. It's going to be amazing, and all yours.

Well, maybe that's your experience. Must be a lot of peoples', otherwise they wouldn't be so popular. But it isn't mine. Now, I'm a guy who likes chunky, wacky, jumbled frozen deliciousness as much as anyone else - I've been to the Ben & Jerry's mothership in Vermont literally about 100 times, and wondering when I'll have my next chance - but it's not been my experience. I take what I feel would be an awesome mix, and instead the outcome seems less than the sum of its parts. Like I did something wrong.

It's kinda like that with Trader Joe's Jingle Jangle Ice Cream. This oughtta be a slam dunk. Take TJ's semi-popular Jingle Jangle and mix into vanilla ice cream! Sounds like an easy yum! Can't go wrong, can you?

Well...it does. Where to start? Let's go with the vanilla base. Now, I have a deep appreciation for good vanilla ice cream, and TJ's happens to provide one of the better store varieties out there. This Jingle Jangle stuff must come from a different supplier, because it's so...non-descript. Run of the mill. The most boring of boring vanillas. It's white, milky, vaguely sugared, and cold, which while that can describe vanilla, it's not really vanilla. It's uninspired low premium filler at best.

Not a big deal, you may think. That's why all the Jingle Jangle is in there....for flavor! That'll make up for it! Hate to say, but no, not really. I had to recheck our Jingle Jangle review to see what's even in it, because all I tasted was cold, hard chunks. And that's even when my spoon came across something - there's not a whole lot mixed in. There's little specs of dark chocolate this and that everywhere. I spotted a couple busted peanut butter cups here and there, and was excited when I found a shard of choco-covered pretzel, only to be dismayed when I bit into it and discovered how soggy it felt.

Major bummer. This ice cream is really rather ho-ho-ho hum. Now it's two seasonal products in a row I've reviewed that I've not overly liked. this time around it's not just me. Even Sandy didn't really enjoy it much either. The kids seemed to like it fine, which shows how easily content they are. I could really learn from that. Anyways, I'm not expecting to see this in our dessert mix again anytime soon.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Jingle Jangle Ice Cream: 3.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade

How confident am I in my opinion of Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade?

So confident that I am basing my review solely on the two teeny cups I had from the local shop's sample station...that's right, I didn't even buy this...because after tasting it, I had zero interest.

Normally, I like TJ's lemonades, whether mixed with iced tea or fruit-flavored. But this mango stuff? Nope. It tasted more like a mango-citrus conglomeration along the lines of some Sunny D one-off. It was so much more juice, with a thicker, pulpier feel, than what ought to be a light, cool, refreshing glass of lemonade. It neither tasted nor felt right. Nothing about it said lemonade. I'd bet it make a decent enough popsicle. But I wasn't willing to invest the $3.49 sticker price nor the freezer space to find out, because dangit, that'd be a lot of popsicles. Even the normally sugar-in-liquid-form-loving kiddos had seemed fairly unimpressed, further cementing the case to leave it on the shelf. Not gonna completely hate on it (organic is always a good thing in my book) but yeah...not so great. 

Different formulation from this Organic Mango Lemonade.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Moroccan Style Mint Tea

Pittsburgh: home of many great innovations. Jeeps. Implantable defibrillators. Alright, about to drop a big one: Polio vaccine. WHOOMP. I'm pretty sure that's exactly what Jonas Salk exclaimed right when he whipped that up at a University of Pittsburgh lab back in the '50s.

But there's another one, which I'm sure you've taken for granted, that if you have small kids and a kitchen/housecleaner supply you're almost sure to have, but have taken for granted. Failing that, you almost assuredly recognize it from your youth: the Mr. Yuk sticker. Alerting kids all over the nation about stuff you shouldn't drink/ingest since the 1970s.

At this point, with that build up, you're probably bracing for a blistering review of Trader Joe's Moroccan Style Mint Tea. Truth be told, after first sip, I was so so tempted to go there. I almost dug out a Mr Yuk from the depths of the sticker drawer just to place on the bottle for a photo op...

...but then I kept drinking it. First it was under the guise of "trying to understand the flavor." It's, well, somewhat foreign to my palette. This kettle-brewed concoction has a green tea base, with a little mint blended in, with an odd twist of citrusy lime. And, in a spirit of restraint I suppose, there's not a lot of extra sweetness, so it's all in this subdued, mellow blend, with each element seemingly in competition to be the least offensive.

Upon first sip, the tea tastes all discombobulated and not cohesive, without any dominat flavor taking the reins of tying the beverage all together. It's just too mellow, but without the potential "refreshing after mowing the lawn" vibe I desire out of a summery themed drink. But it began coming together a little more each sip, especially on a longer draw.

All that to say, the Moroccan mint tea remains a likely candidate for return. I like the idea behind this brew, but the execution is just a little too off. I can't see myself happily drinking a whole bottle anytime soon, especially when there's a plethora of other tasty drinks at TJ's right in the 3 dollar range. And Sandy? No, not at all. She outright deplores this, which is odd, because usually mint teas are right up her alley. "I think it's because of the lime," she said. "It throws it all off." I can buy that argument. Anyways, for the first time I can recall, she's going with a flat-out ZERO here. Wow. Zero. Nil. Nada. Mr Yuk. I'm going to compensate somewhat with my score, because I do not wish to condemn the tea to the realm of blahhh, so I'll give it a 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Moroccan Style Mint Tea: 2.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cranberry Coconut Snacking Crackers

 Much like hockey, reggae, and amateur competitive facial hair cultivation, there's a lot that I *want* to like about Trader Joe's Cranberry Coconut Snacking Crackers....but I just can't. Sorry.

It's probably unfair, but the wheat snack crackers I compare all others to are Wheat thins - light, crispy, irresistibly munchy. That's kinda the standard. Well, these wheaty wafers are wanting in comparison. They're much denser, and heavier, without that nice requisite crunch, and they somehow dry up the entire inside of my digestive system. Literally, after just three or few, I'm coughing up crumbs everywhere.

 

These crackers do taste somewhat okay, though. Aside from the textural shortcomings, there's nothing all that wrong with the actual cracker itself. I can see but not taste the coconut flakes, mostly because it's too subtle a flavor compared to the wheaty base, the raisins and cranberries (nothing much to say about them)...or the sesame seeds. Umm, who invited those to the party? While not completely unwelcome, it's an odd add-on to say the least.

 I think it says something that in a household of three carb-crazed adults and two kiddos who will happily devour anything that can reasonably be called a "cracker" that we still have over half the modest sized  bag of them remaining after a few weeks now. I think there's potential - I bet a good piece of chevre could put in quite the assist - but neither Sandy nor I particularly enjoy them. We'd love to, but it just ain't there. Matching twos.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's  Cranberry Coconut Snacking Crackers: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Giotto's Nduja Spicy Salami Spread

 'Twas two weeks before Christmas
And all through the pantry
I went a-rustlin' for a snack
Before I'd get hangry

Heard the mom-in-law yell
"Hey! No more eatin' my cookies!"
So over to the fridge
I went for a look-see

Trader Joe's Spicy Salami Spread!
Or, to be fancy, "nduja"
My soul get all psyched up
My tastebuds thought, "Yum! Boo ya!"

Fancy exotic meat time!
From the country shaped like a boot!
Been wanting to try this for a while
Now's finally the time! Whoot!

Though..umm...spreadable meat?
That sounds like a gamble
"No matter!" thought I
" Here's the best I can scramble!"

Back over to the pantry
Quietly for some crackers
Nduja and knock-off Ritzes
Sounded like nice snackers

I scooped up my first bite
And plopped into my mouth
And took only a bite or two
Before it all went south

It all felt kinda funny
Like semi-molten pepperoni wax
Was slathered on my cracker
Hey, just reporting the facts

As for the taste? Hrmm
Salami-esque with paprika for sure
 But there's certain things
 No spice can ever cure

How I do say it?
It tasted like it had some funk
Not fermented, per se
But still kinda like a skunk

Perhaps a little green olive-y
Would be a nicer way to explain
But that's not quite it
No, it's with a little more disdain

Plenty of a spicy kick, though
Paprika and pepper so black
Mixed in tomato sauce
Made an interesting snack

I've revisited the nduja
Several times at this writing
I've liked it a little more each time
So let not my words be spiting

Although I must warn you
Though spared too many troubles
After each sampling
My gut felt full of bubbles 

Sandy bravely tried it
She really tried her best
But her heaves said it all
"All yours is the rest"

Pick it up if you dare
You may like it just fine
Might work on your cracker plate
And hey, just $3.49

Though don't be surprised
If your tongue feels confused
Mine certainly did
I just hope you're amused

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Spicy Salami Spread: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese

Lots of different kinds of cheese in the world, and from the looks of things, Trader Joe's carries a lot of them. There's some good solid favorites, some unusual ones (like a grill-worthy cheese? Inconceivable!), and, well, a few out-and-out bizarre ones like this chocolate-cheddar mash up from years back that was out right in time for Valentine's Day...

...but nothing, to my fairly faulty knowledge, has been quite like Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese. I gotta admit, the name sounded intriguing, even though I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. It didn't make the blog, but not long ago, Sandy and I enjoyed a rather delicious creamy cinnamon toscano that TJ's had out, and if this were anything similar, it'd be a slam dunk.

Well...it's not. Maybe I'm just used to good ol' 'murican-style cheddar from the great states of Vermont and Wisconsin, with its solid sharpness, its blocky bite, its wax-covered wonder. And maybe I've narrowed my scope of anything labelled as "English cheddar" to the shelves of TJ's and therefore subject to solely their selections, as perhaps unrepresentative of the entirety of the genre of English cheddar. But, just like another English cheddar we tried a few months back (the ones with caramelized onions, also not reviewed - hey, sorry, can't do it all!) - this stuff seems sad, soft, slightly soggy, kinda like a half-molten candle. It's so soft - almost more like a brie than most cheddar I'm used to - that I was half tempted to find a cracker and a knife to do some spreading. I bet you it would have worked.

Aside from its overall mushiness, the taste doesn't do the cheese all that many favors. The one reason that I ate more than a bite or two was to try and get past some initial bewilderment to try and discern a fair opinion about it. It didn't really work. First and foremost, there's no taste I'd label as "cheddar" or "cheese-esque" or "somewhat akin to a dairy product" poking through. Instead, it's just outright raisin-and-date tinged molasses-y sweetness. Aside from the aforementioned fruits, the taste I pick up more than anything else really sides towards brown sugar. In a different format, the taste could be rather appealing, but in this semi-solid limp waxy form, it just doesn't sit right at all. Which isn't to say I'm disgusted by it, but it's definitely a little out there. If the cheese were firmer, with the "toffee pieces" that the label touts adding a textural changeup instead of melding along with the rest, it'd be a significant improvement.

Sandy feels much the same.We popped in our first taste simultaneously, looked at each other, and made a face. After repeating this ritual a couple more times, we finally gave up. I don't feel as though we necessarily wasted our money on it (sold in various sized chunks for $8.99 a pound), and I'm willing to give another shot, perhaps with some crackers and a dark porter or stout within reach. But as is, we're gonna hit it with some double deuces.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Cheddar Cheese: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza

Quasi-confession time: I had some behavioral issues in my formative years. More than most kids. Lots of fights at school and crap like that. One time, in fifth grade, I (rightfully so) got slugged square in the jaw and had a permanent tooth busted. Got it fixed at the dentist and was told no solid food for at least a week. Well, then, applesauce, Carnation instant breakfast, Jello, and milkshake time then, right? Wrong. My folks got me...baby food. And rightfully so. And perhaps still even rightfully so, stretched out a few days past the week we were told - you know, for "nutrition's sake" and "dental structural integrity assurance" and all. Had nothing to do with teaching some young punk a lesson, I'm sure. Nothing at all.

I bring this up in relation to Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza because when I say I know what baby food tastes like, I know exactly what I'm talking about. I gagged on that stuff almost every day. I'm not sure what was worse, the smell or the taunts of my peers at the cafeteria table. I swore to myself then and there if I ever had kids, I'd never feed them baby food from a jar - and over 20 years and two kiddos of my own later, that is still true.

And while these gyoza weren't quite as bad as those squatty Gerber jars...they were fairly reminiscent. I'm not quite sure what it was. I generally do well with squash overall - spaghetti squash has become a favorite, I have no problems with roasted, either. Maybe it was the smushy texture. Or maybe it was the taste, too - it just seemed extra sweet, somehow. There's some added ginger and honey, which sounded good, but don't poke out flavor-wise nearly as much as the sheer squashiness of it. Maybe it was the particular blend of squash, butternut and kabocha, which to my knowledge, this was my first encounter with it. Good ol' Wikipedia says kabocha are a strong and sweet variety, and unrelatedly, is apparently revered as an aphrodisiac in some pockets of the world. Not that you'd put that in a baby food, but maybe if you want to make...I'm stopping there.

The rest of the gyoza fares only mildly better. For some textural variety, there's some small carrot bits and some edamame mixed in, which seem a somewhat odd choice. As is the whole wheat wrapper, which just adds a somewhat unnecessarily heavy feel to the whole package. Honestly, the whole concoction kinda felt and tasted like some outcome from a TV show like "Chopped" where the ingredients in the basket were whole wheat flour, edamame, and baby food, without much more added. I mean, this would be about the best one could do with such a mix, but that doesn't mean it'd be entirely satisfactory, either.

It's not just me in the household who didn't really like them. Sandy first turned her nose when she opened the package, noting an odd super-squashy scent. When it came time to dine, we both took our first bites with all the faith and good vibes in the world...and kinda scowled. The only way we made it through our plateful was dousing them in some "Red Dragon" to overpower the squash. Our toddler, M, kinda made a face but bravely soldiered through the bare minimum we allowed her. Baby B (almost not a baby any more!) seemed to enjoy them the most, appropriately enough. Then again, she eats anything at this stage. While we're fans of most of TJ's other gyoza offerings, I think we all agree these will not be a repeat purchase. Matching 1.5's.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels

Listen: it doesn't matter that I, Russ, truly enjoyed every tidbit of the irresistible Pumpkin Pie Spice Cookie Butter to the fullest. Or, as Nathan will be pointing out on an upcoming podcast about our favorite fall products, those Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls. I have been, still am, and always will be the self-proclaimed Pumpkin Agnostic, doubting the existence of an all-good, all delicious gourd in all the various/nefarious ways it tries to manifest itself this time of year. Maybe that Great Pumpkin exists for the rest of you, but for me, never. Although I will enjoy the occasional well-executed pumpkin product, I will continue to rail against pumpkin spice this, pumpkin spice that, as a voice calling out from the anti-pumpkin spice wilderness. We don't need pumpkin spice everything this time of year! Enjoy something else fall-related! Like apple cider! Or chili! Or Octoberfest brews!

And these Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels are a prime example of the trend gone wild. Look: there's absolutely no reason why this product should exist. I'll tell you exactly what this is: a nifty little box throwing out as many buzzwords as it can in an effort to part you from $5 in exchange for twelve bites of some of the most awful candy you'll ever try. Even if you like pumpkin spice.

Listen: it just doesn't work. At all. It's not the dark chocolate's fault. As is typical with most TJ's dark cocoa products, it's about 55-60% dark - I prefer darker, but that's a level palatable to most of the masses. It's more everything else> Listen: it's widely accepted fact that caramel and chocolate, and also salted caramel, are perfect matches. Salt and chocolate works. Pumpkin caramel can work for some at least...and Sandy did make a decent pumpkin bread with chocolate chips in it, so all that can work. But when all those elements get tossed all together with no real regard...blecch. The caramel reservoirs hold a smooth, rich, creamy center that tends to ooze a little more than what's in our picture, but it sports a hefty pumpkin pie-y flavor level that hits too hard then leaves a funky, almost chemically aftertaste. I'd liken it quite happily to what a dollar store Yankee Candle knockoff must taste like - just too much, too over the top, with no real attempt at subtlety or restraint that would help rein in everything. Honestly, it made my mouth and stomach feel funny, too.

Funny thing is: that's not even the worst part. Oh no. Look at that salt. No way around saying it: it's revolting. There's entirely way too much. Even knocking some off didn't help. Is this what rock salt tastes like? I'm tempted to try and write a pun with "salt" and "assault", leaving out the "u" but that leaves a hyphenated word that, apt as it may be as to describing the flavor, just doesn't appear to be entirely family friendly.  There's too much, it's too potent, and will completely override any other flavor, from start to finish. It's not an accompaniment, it's the center of attention, not because of it's own merit but instead of it's rude, inept clumsiness, like the awkward uncle at a family reunion. I grimaced at every bite I took before finally giving up. A little too much pumpkin spice. A lot too much salt.

So in short: Take decent dark chocolate. Add molten generic fall-themed candle and a pile of salt from your winter driveway stash. Insert in mouth. Chances are, you'll be happier.

 Unless you're my wife.

Listen: I'm not one to question her tastes - I mean, look at who she married, right? But Sandy said she actually kinda almost liked them. I'm flabbergasted. "I like the chocolate, and I think the caramel/pumpkin centers are just fine, but the salt...." she said as she shook her head. "No bueno." Ugh. I don't know what to say - she's literally the only person I've ever heard say anything remotely positive about these candies. And she'll give them a score just as high as her score for the pumpkin cookie butter - a three. I think we need to schedule her a doctor visit to get her taster checked. Anyways, if you can't tell, I didn;t like these. At all. For once, it wasn't just the pumpkin's fault. Absolute zero from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Sushi Sensations

Like those Snickers commercials allude to, when you're hungry, you're not yourself. Case in point: Mid-Sunday evening, the family and I standing in the brand-spankin' new McCandless Crossing Trader Joe's in Pittsburgh's North Hills. Nice store, grand opening weekend, it's kinda busy, we're getting the lay of the land, and all of us are h-u-n-g-r-y. All we want is an easy dinner, but we can't figure out what. M, our increasingly rambunctious two and a half year old, wants "nuggets and mac and cheese." Easy enough for her...but we eat that way too often to have that sound palatable for us. For whatever reason, I have a real hankering for onion rings, but they're nowhere to be found. Sandy's eying up the wraps, as am I, but they're pretty well picked over. We don't feel like pizza. We don't want to put much of any effort besides maybe roasting some veggies into dinner. Nothing frozen catches our eye. And the rumble in our tummies just grows and grows.

And then...

Listen, I have no idea what propelled me to even consider Trader Joe's Sushi Sensations. It's not that I'm against sushi. It's just that I've never heard anything good about Trader Joe's. Google "worst things to buy at Trader Joe's" and their sushi will almost always be mentioned. Years ago, in an article on The Daily Meal, I even said I never, ever wanted to try their sushi. Yet, here it was, in my hand, mulling it over....and even more amazingly, Sandy even said she'd eat some with me if we also got her a buffalo chicken wrap as a back-up. I've never seen her near sushi in the seven-plus years we've known each other. This was going to be an interesting night.

Well...there are some positives. I guess. In true amateur foodie-hack fashion, I'll admit, I'm neither a huge sushi fan nor anything close to an expert. But even I could tell this wasn't exactly top-notch fare. There's four types of sushi laid out for sampling here: Shrimp Nigiri, California, Spicy California, and Tempura Shrimp. There's also some dipping sauces: a slightly spicy "dynamo" (not to be confused with the juice), some sweet, some wasabi, and a packet of soy sauce, as well as a small bucket of crispy Panko bread crumbs. The nigiri were reasonably okay, though nothing special, as well as the shrimp tempura. Some common complaints regarding TJ's sushi is the quality and texture of the rice - there wasn't too much (if any) sliminess present, and the shrimp had a good firm texture and taste. Each paired well with the variety of the sauces (although we skipped both the plain soy and the wasabi) and the breadcrumbs also added a nice, little touch.

If those were the only rolls in there, we would have been reasonably fine with dinner and given a middling to solid score. But...the California rolls. Ugh. This is what California rolls are supposed to look like. These TJ impostors? Not close. Instead, the filling and the insides looked like some sort of cross between seafood salad and cat food - just a mishmash o' mush shoved inside some seaweed and rice. And I mean "mush." I didn't realize that the sticker with the nutrition label and ingredients was missing, and I can't find a picture of one online, but the filling tasted like all sorts of fake seafood-type junk smushed together. If there was a shred of authentic seafood in either one of those rolls, I;d be shocked. The "spicy" and regular had no discernible taste difference either. Sandy took one bite of one of them and nearly spit it right out for the texture being so offsetting. I'll admit that I was able to eat the rest...I must've been really, truly hungry and the sauces and breadcrumbs helped cover a lot.

For a couple deliriously hungry sushi novices like us, the Sushi Sensations platter made a somewhat passable dinner, but barely. This is what you get when you pay $6.49 for a large sushi plate - we should have figured and gone for something else. At least I can say that I've overcome my fears and tried it out, all to say you'll probably want to stay away. This is not going to be purchased again.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sushi Sensations: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons


    

Trader Joe's True Thai Pad See Ew

Back in March 2011, we reviewed Trader Joe's relatively unsuccessful, unappetizing Vegetable Pad Thai. Curiously, three months later, we noticed a sudden uptick in clicks on that particular post. We couldn't figure out where they were coming from. Our analytics weren't showing any new traffic sources. But after a bit of searching, we noticed people were Googling "Trader Joe's Vegetable Pad Thai" in huge numbers. So we Googled that phrase ourselves. Apparently the entire New York metro area had been enraptured by a court case involving an opera singer and a prestigious women's health doctor and a violent disagreement over the last box of veggie pad thai at an Upper West Side Trader Joe's. Of course, the biggest mystery in all of this is: of all the delicious TJ's products you might get into a cat fight over, why ever would it be that forgettable pad thai?

But anyway, the point is that the comments section on the aforementioned pad thai review turned into a mini-discussion about this product: Trader Joe's True Thai Pad See Ew. Comments from readers in regards to this product: "truly disgusting," "put the 'Ew' in 'Pad See 'Ew'," "I wouldn't wish this dish on anyone," and "one of the worst things I've ever picked up from TJ's." We've even had negative comments about it on our Facebook page. In fact, I've never heard anything good about it. Which is why we finally had to try it.

Although I don't disagree with the people who find this dish revolting, it's not SO bad, in my opinion, that I ever considered NOT clearing my plate. At no point did I seriously think about taking the unused portion back to TJ's and getting a refund, although, this will never be purchased in our home again, unless TJ's manages to repackage it, rename it, and trick us into thinking it's a new product entirely—which I certainly wouldn't put past them. Sonia described the vegetables as "slimy and chewy." The Chinese broccoli, in particular, was stringy. The noodles were way too soft—almost gelatinous. The tofu didn't blend in with the rest of the product, and the carrots seemed too firm.

In its defense, the product's flavor wasn't a complete failure. The tofu by itself tasted fine. The vegetables were fairly neutral, flavor-wise. The sauce might have been the best part. It was mildly garlicky and salty—but ultimately, it wasn't flavorful enough. It tried valiantly to rescue this doomed dish, but still failed in the end. I doubt even General Tsao's Stir Fry Sauce could have pulled this mess together. And even if the flavor had been pleasant, the troublesome texture of this pad see ew was most definitely its Achilles' heel.

2 stars from me. 1.5 stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 3.5 out of 10.
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QuestionPro

Trader Joe's Embrace Your Inner Bean

Straight from the folks who previously brought you oddly inspired snack sticks with groan-worthy puns for names comes....Trader Joe's Embrace Your Inner Bean! What's next in this line of veggie tranquility inspired munchies? Some Lettuce Be? Romaine Calm? Bay Leaf in Yourself?

Why can I come up with only puns for shrubbery-esque veggies? I dunno, leaf me alone!

Regardless, before branching out to any other snacks of this ilk, TJ's really needs to buckle down their craft. Just like those Inner Peas were borderline good but missing a little somethin'-somethin', so do these beanie bad boys. They're just on the cusp of being really darn tasty but just don't get there. It's not the texture - a little foamy, but reasonably crunchy but it's the taste itself. First, they're made with rice flour, which doesn't have the same supporting flavor of a regular corn or tortilla chip. I'm not a fan of rice flour at all, I guess, despite its gluten-free properties....wait a minute...these aren't gluten-free? Well, let's read the ingredients...no gluten in any of that...hold on..."May contain traces of wheat, milk, soy, fish, and shrimp"???? What the heck kinda of cross-allergen control polices are in place at that manufacturer? Bad enough that their product cannot reasonably be labelled as either gluten-free or vegetarian/vegan? This is a snack whose main ingredients are beans, rice, and salt. Ay-yi-freakin'-yi. That's some serious point dockage there.

In case you can still ingest these, like I can, the flavor profile also kinda lacks. Silly as it sounds, these sticks might taste too much like black beans (over 60%, says the blurb on the back) and black beans, taste like, well, not much. That's why if we're making them up for some tacos or making a black bean soup, we're sure to add lots of stuff like cumin, which perhaps tricks us into thinking we like black beans more than we actually do. There's a little salt here, which is kinda boring tasting - really, a little cumin or paprika or slight chile powder dusting would have been better, in my opinion.

Anyways, these Inner Beans make an okay dip stick - I dunked some of them into a little homemade guacamole I made and was reasonably happy with the results. Yet, after a few bites, the flavor just kinda goes back to the rice flour more than anything, and I can't shake that lingering essence off my molars. Meh.

Sandy enjoys these kinda things more than I do, usually, and this time was not an exception. "I'd get these for a car trip or something for a light snack," she said. But I can tell she's not overly enamored, especially when she gave them a half-hearted three.That's more generous than I can go. As is appropriate for their buck-fifty price tag, I'm going 1.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Embrace Your Inner Bean: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Uncured Turkey Cranberry Apple Sausage

It's November...you know that what means! Crunchy leaves falling. A cool chill in the air. The end of political attack ads for a couple weeks. And of course....it's almost turkey time!

There's a billboard around town here' in the 'burgh for the local gas station promoting the Pilgrim - a roast turkey sub piled high with cranberries, gravy and trimmings on a "stuffing bread." That sounds as awesome as it sounds gutbursting. There's all sorts of other turkey wraps and sandwiches around, including TJ's somewhat disappointing one from last year.

But a totally tubular Thanksgiving turkey treat, and not in the '80s' sense? For me, unheard of...until now, Trader Joe's Uncured Turkey Cranberry Apple Sausage.

Turkey as an alternate meat can either work pretty well or not so great when trying to emulate other protein products. See: turkey bacon. Pork sausage is usually pretty greasy, so a drier, leaner meat like turkey has to be done well to make an acceptable swap-out in my eyes.

Well, Trader Joe's tried. They really, really tried. But as an old wise little short green man once told me, "Do or do not. There is no try." So, TJ's did not. There's just enough not flavor or execution here. First, they're pretty dry. And then, the turkey itself is fairly bland. "Well, that's why they'd add some cranberry and apple, that oughtta fix that," you're now thinking to yourself. You'd be right except...it doesn't. In one of Sandy's sausages there was a deep, large well of red that I presume was the cranberry. That's the only discernible cranberry any of us had in the whole package of five we cooked up. There were little chunks of what I presume were apple (kinda gray/tan/light colored) but they didn't add much of anything one way or the other. In the end, they just kinda lacked.

To be fair, I suppose if one were to purchase and prepare these not with the though of festive fall flavors but instead a reasonably healthy sausage option, these links wouldn't seem nearly as disappointing. That's a more than valid thought. Sodium's kinda high, but uncured, low fat, heck, not even preservatives - they're practically paleo which works for me.

Sandy made a face when I mentioned I'd be reviewing these. "Ugh, if we never got those again, that'd be more than okay with me - I just didn't really like them," she said. She seemed to verbally waiver between around a two, so that's what we're going with for her, which sounds just 'bout right to me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Uncured Turkey Cranberry Apple Sausage: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons