Trader Joe's Popcorn with Herbs and Spices

The popcorn in this bag looks like it fell on the floor—all covered in little flecks of dark matter and hair-like strands of oregano and other herbstuffs. It also tastes like it fell on the floor—that is, if your floor happens to be covered in delicious salt, spices and tasty flavorful plant matter.

It's pretty much your standard popcorn fare, with a nice little kick. Similar to other TJ's popcorn products or products like Smartfood, it tastes and feels "lite." Not lacking in flavor, just easy on the heavy, buttery, oiliness that bogs down some major national brands and movie theater popcorns. It tastes lightly salted, and it stays crunchy enough, even though it's pre-popped and sitting in a bag for who knows how long...

But of course, it's the herb and spice flavor that sets this popcorn apart from anything you might have had in the past. There's a perfect amount of spice, in my opinion. It's not enough that it should scare anyone away from trying it, except those who are ultra-sensitive to spiciness. It's really not a hot spiciness, it's a flavorful spiciness. But by that same token, if you're looking for a 5-alarm fire, you're going to need to pick up some hot sauce to bring it up to that level. It tastes like pepper, oregano, basil, dill, and maybe a hint of onion. Looking at the bag right now, there is apparently no oregano in it, but both Sonia and I felt like there was some present.

Sonia thinks it's delicious. She says she could eat a whole bag by herself. Considering the aforementioned "liteness," eating an entire bag in one sitting would be entirely plausible. I think I could knock off a bag by myself, too. This stuff is a welcome, spicy twist on a classic salty treat.

Sonia gives it 4 stars. I'll go with a 3.5. Snackariffic.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Coconut Water Fruit Floes

An apartment in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania isn't supposed to be ninety-five degrees in May. And yet, thanks to weather manipulation, a broken air conditioner, and living on the top floor of a six-story building, here we are—my wife and I, basking in our underpants on the day after Memorial Day (God bless those who paid the ultimate price for our country) sweating our butts off, crowding next to our brand new tall, skinny fan (didn't fans used to be round?) and wishing it were January again, pining for some relief from the heat.

Thank goodness for Trader Joe's. In the past, we've reviewed a few other fruit floes, discussed the meaning of the term "floe" and sang the praises of TJ's other frozen delights. Today, it's all about the coconut.

These frozen treats taste like Goya's Coconut Cream. Which, if you're familiar with it, is the nectar of the gods. A fattening nectar of the gods, to be sure, but absolutely worthy of the term. And if you're like me, you're fine eating the coconut cream plain, straight out of the can. But most people would consider that weird, desperate, and /or socially unacceptable. I consider it delicious.

And now, thanks to the wonders of hippie, underground, independent grocery store magic, that same taste can be found in a widely-acceptable bar/floe thingy. It tastes like real coconut. It has real coconut in it. It's not totally bad for you. It's highly refreshing when you're on the verge of heat-stroke (as I am right now).

Probably mostly due to the excessive heat and delirium that comes with it, Sonia gives it a 4.5 star rating. I'll go ahead with a 4 star rating, because it's such a beautiful balance of coconut-milkiness and coconut-wateriness. Trader Joe's Coconut Water Fruit Floes are magical coldness in a world of red hot death and sixth-story "hot-air-rises" in a "science sucks when applied to reality" kind of way. I love you. It's too hot here. It's only May. Abandon all hope, ye who plan to be alive in July '12. Eat lots of these.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Valencia Peanut Butter with Roasted Flaxseeds

Last summer, I posited the question of what a truly American food might be. Looking back, I wonder how I could have overlooked the obvious answer: peanut butter! Granted, my international travel experience barely challenges Sarah Palin's, but I've never seen peanut butter anywhere else. Going to Peru with about 40 fellow college students back in the day, we literally packed an entire suitcase or two full of big ol' Sam's Club PB jars to last us for the week. You don't get much more American than that. Even in the remote mountain villages of Mexico I can guarantee there'll be at least two or three shops where you can buy glass-bottle sugary Coca-Cola for barely a few pesos (I know because been there, done that), but never saw PB in even a large Mexico City groceria. When Sandy and I were in Portugal for our honeymoon, there'd be a wide assortment of Nutella-esque spreads but no peanut butter anywhere to be seen. And I've been to my fair share of ethnic groceries, and never once seen Polish, Italian or Chinese peanut butter. I kinda wonder why the US has the market cornered on peanut butter, but honestly I don't mind. It's kinda like a good secret we're in on that no one else is, and as long as I can get my fix, I'm good.

So, yeah, like pretty much any good redblooded American, I love me my PB. I've kinda evolved with it over the years, though. As a young ginger kiddo, Jif or Skippy or whatever was just fine. Not so much anymore. I mean, not that those brands are horrible, but peanut butter is capable of so, so much more than those.

Like Trader Joe's Valencia Peanut Butter with Roasted Flaxseeds, for example. It's such a simple product, with literally three ingredients - valencia peanuts, flaxseeds, and sea salt. That's all there is, folks. It's so basic it reminds me somewhat of the grind-your-own PB you can do at some health food stores/co-ops. But man, what a combo it is. Each bite is full of roasted flavor from the nuts, and there's some little bits and pieces here and there for a little crunch action. The flaxseeds and sea salt do their job, too, though they can be a little heavy without a good stir beforehand. Texturally, it's a marvel of sorts: it's crispy, and no, not in that "crispy PB in a candy bar" kinda way. Those flaxseeds in there, aside from helping me hit homeruns like Barry Bonds, are all roasted and toasted and cannot help but be all crispied up, in every bite. Yet the main peanut portion is that deliciously stubborn kinda goop that sticks everywhere it can on the roof of your mouth. I cannot think of a single wrong thing to say, and I would use this in anything I'd put peanut butter in.

This isn't Sandy's kinda thing, though. She still likes the aforementioned basic brands enough to not move on from them. That's okay, we all got our hang-ups and guilty pleasures. For me, I have an unnatural affinity for anything resembling a fastfood breakfast sandwich, which I'd be getting much more often if I didn't smash together a PB sandwich almost every morning for the drive in. Anyways, she's giving it a pass. More for me, so I win. Like I said, I can't think of anything I'd change, but I'm not giving it a perfect score. I don't want to make too much of a habit of unilaterally granting something Pantheon-level status, and the one time I did, the product in question was promptly discontinued, so I'm not gonna tempt the powers-that-be in the deep, dark world of TJ's here. Let's just "say" I'll give it a nine, but, well, interpret as you will.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Valencia Peanut Butter with Roasted Flaxseeds: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Falafel Chips

I didn't know what to expect from falafel made into a chip. Trader Joe's Heat and Eat Falafel was a big hit here on WG@TJ's back in our heyday, May of '11. Tasty stuff. So we knew TJ's could do falafel right.

And we've encountered multiple kinds of successful chips from Trader Joe's. True, they're not batting 1.000, but they've done more right than wrong. So we had reasons to be hopeful.

And I must say, these are among the better Trader Joe's chips I've had. Unique. The kind of product that makes you question things. Things like: why do Americans only eat potato chips and tortilla chips, with very few exceptions? Well, because those are the only things that are on the shelf. But really, if every shelf in America were stocked to the brim with falafel chips, wouldn't they catch on just as well? Wouldn't brands of falafel chips be airing big-budget commercials during NBA playoffs and Stanley Cup Finals, too? If you eat them, will they not crunch? If you snack on them, will they not produce deliciousness?

I don't mean to wax philosophical on you when you're reading this to find out my opinion of these chips. I'm just trying to point out the fact that the type of chips we eat is really arbitrary—as life itself can be, sometimes. I'm just tryna' say get over your chip-prejudices, erase your preconceptions, and open your minds. The falafel chip is the brother of the tortilla chip, akin, yes—even to the potato.

I actually think these remind me most of the new Tostitos Artisan Recipes Roasted Garlic and Black Bean Chips, which are also very good and worth trying. They're both nutty, crispy, and lightly spicy. One can totally tell these TJ's chips are made of falafel—but only if you're really thinking about falafel right when you're chewing them. If you dressed them up differently and called them "Crunchtastic Critters" and made no mention of ground-up garbanzo beans from the middle east, I highly doubt many people would go, "Oh my goodness, these chips taste just like falafel!"

We ate the chips with TJ's Spicy Hummus, but I think they might be equally snacktastic with salsa, bean dip, or cheese sauce. They're firm enough to plow through a vat of hummus, but delicate enough for a sensitive mouth (like mine). Both taste and texture are very good, high-quality.

Sonia's going to give them a 4.5 star rating. I can't go much lower than that. 4 stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce

The following is a true story: I was probably somewhere around 4, maybe 5 years old one night as my family had a movie night. It probably wasn't the best choice of movies - I don't recall if it was something like King Kong, Godzilla, or maybe Jaws - I truly don't remember - but there was some type of monster in it. I'm naturally a little squeamish about such things, and I'm guessing perhaps a little more so when I was so young, but there was some type of scene with a fair amount of blood in it. As it was a black and white film, it wasn't particularly gruesome, but it was enough for to get pretty darn scared and upset, and so I collapsed into my mother's arms. It was then, in an effort to comfort me, that she uttered the seven words that have helped shape my life to this very day: "It's only ketchup, Rusty. It's only ketchup."

Yup, to this day, that's the reason why I don't like ketchup. At least, it's the reason I tell myself why. It's convenient enough and makes a neat little story. It's kind of ironic, seeing that I live in Pittsburgh literally just a few miles upriver from the original Heinz factory. But the truth is, I don't like most condiments. Not ketchup. Not mayo. Mustard, only occasionally. I don't even like most salad dressings. I think some of it has to do with the farty sounds they sometimes make when squeezed out of the bottle. But, mostly, I just flat out don't like them.

Except hot sauce. I will always make an exception for hot sauce. As evidence, you could see my recently polished off glass gallon jug of Trappey's Red Devil. Or instead of traipsing all the way over to my house (the last thing I need right now is a stalker or two), you can see the picture above of my recent purchase, Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce. This is a serious hot sauce. As a lover of many hot 'n spicy things, I have a natural inclination to discount most things that say they're hot - I figure most products manufactured for mass distribution will not be enough to satisfy my capsaicin cravings, and so I severely underestimated this when dousing some chicken breasts with this sauce as I was about to sample it for the first time. That was an awful, awful mistake. "Liquid fire" isn't adequate enough description. Nor is David Letterman's old saying of "Hotter than a dancing bobcat with its ass on fire," whatever that means. It's freakin' hot. Sandy was in the kitchen with me, and I think gasped out something along the lines of "Close your eyes!" - not because I didn't want her to see me tear up (which I was), but for a moment or two I wasn't sure if the Ark of the Covenant somehow got cracked open in our kitchen. The hot sauce was so hot, and my mouth in so much pain, that if it were a reasonable solution to remove my head and put it in the freezer for a while, I would have. As you can tell by perusing the ingredients list, it's water and some habeneros that have had the heck Slapchopped out of them, and that's about it. It's thick, a little gloppy, orangish, and flat out hot. Respect it.

And you know what? I genuinely like it. Just trust me when I say a little bit goes a long way. I've dripped some a couple times since while making myself a quick quesadilla, and it's much more tolerable then. One thing I definitely like is, although it's face-meltingly hot, it doesn't cover up the flavor of food as the heat builds and builds in the back of your throat. I know it'll take me a while to work through the bottle, and I'll probably dabble with some other hot sauce in the meantime, but the habenero hot sauce has itself a new fan. Sandy's not as crazy as I am, and seeing that she's had some heartburn, etc, recently, she hasn't given it a try and I kinda have some doubts that she ever will -truthfully, this is out of the league for most folks. Not me, though. Although it's almost enough to make me go all Homer Simpson on*, it's a winner in my book.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I'm completely divided as to whether or not the hot sauce making me having a hallucination that consists of Johnny Cash speaking in cartoon coyote form would make me like it more or less. On one hand, it's Johnny Cash as a cartoon coyote. On the other, well, I'd probably need to be checked out afterwards.

Trader José's Chicken in Red Mole

It hasn't been the most fun of weeks here at the Western Pennsylvania wing of the What's Good at Trader Joe's team. Work's been getting crazy for the two of us, and when we're not there we've been dealing with trying to get the home ready for our forthcoming little bundle of joy in, oh, a month and a half or so. Two of the non-negotiable things we've wanted to do was getting our carpets cleaned and installing a new kitchen floor. In perhaps a flash of madness or brilliance, we decided to do both this past weekend. That made for a lot of prep work and clean-up last week. Carpets look great (well, until our dog threw up in the middle of the hallway, at least) and I'm eternally thankful for all the help from both my dad and older brother gave me with the floor. I may owe them a new set of knees each. Laminate's not all that easy when you live in a city that has no such thing as a square room in any of its houses.

Anyways, between being so busy and trying to not buy more food that we'd just have to move somewhere, it had been at least two, maybe three weeks since our last Trader Joe's trip. I'm not even sure what I ate except too much of my emergency stash of Chef Boyardee at work. Blahh. I tell ya what: it felt good to finally go back the other night. Damn good.

I felt even better once we spotted the Trader Jose's Chicken in Red Mole. Apparently it's new, or at least new to us. We're both a big fan of most of the Trader Jose line with just an exception or two, and we've had some pretty good mole in Mexico, so we were both pretty hopeful. This is pretty darn good, if I may say so. For starters, unlike a lot of TJ products, there was plenty of meat. And I mean plenty - it was almost half the package. That's a great start. Plus, the mole...I don't think one could reasonably ask for any better from a frozen grocery store commodity. It coated every single chicken chunk (and mingled down into the rice) with a rich, deep, very smoky flavor. Loved it. You ever look up how to make mole? It's fairly involved, and if I were to attempt it, I would hope it'd turn out nearly as good. It did seem a little drier and perhaps slightly gummier then most mole I remember, but that could've a result of possible inadvertent overcooking in the oven on my part. I was pretty occupied fighting an eventual winning battle as I reassembled our IKEA kitchen shelving (its name? I can't remember if it's Falsapart or Screwmenoscrewyou). The chicken was pretty decent, though, while the rice left a little to be desired. It probably would've been better if it were all meat then have you cook your own rice on the side. I guess the plus side is, since it's microwavable, the fact that it includes rice makes this a full lunch option, but that's be one meal that's too big even for me.

For a $5.99 deal, it's way too big for one person but was pretty amply sized for two, unless you have a way bigger appetite than me, which probably isn't possible. I really don't have all that many complaints about it - maybe that's the recent lack of TJ goodness in my diet talking, but no matter. This will definitely be a repeat purchase for us. Sandy's a fan as well. She didn't give me an exact Golden Spoon rating (too busy with take-home work, which is the absolute worst kind, the poor girl), but I'll assume we're about on the same wavelength and go ahead and assume it'd be a four from her. That's mostly because that's exactly what I'll give it.

Bottom line: Trader Jose's Chicken in Red Mole: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Vegetable Masala Burgers

Last night, quite accidentally, Sonia and I participated in our first Meatless Monday. Have you heard of Meatless Mondays? Supposedly cows, pigs and other tasty, meaty animals use up way more resources to produce a comparable amount of food than a simple vegetarian meal. I guess it cuts out the middle man—or middle beast, as it were. Instead of growing grains and then feeding them to animals and then eating the animals, you just grow vegetables and such and eat those. Much simpler. Also, cow farts deplete the ozone, or so "the science" tells us.

So each day Trader Joe whips up some new vegetarian delight to make Meatless Monday that much more enjoyable, affordable, and accessible. These masala burgers are certainly worth a try, especially if you're craving Indian on Meatless Monday.

The patties look rich with exotic plant matter—and they are. They're dense and filling, but not excessively so. Their texture is not unlike that of a traditional veggie burger, but these feel even less like real meat somehow. In some cases, that's bad. But in this case, it's a good thing that these burgers aren't trying to be something that they're not. They are their own unique delicacy.

Flavor-wise, they capture a good bit of those happy East Indian spices that lovers of fine ethnic foods have come to know and cherish, but they can still be covered in mustard and mayo, dressed in lettuce and cheese, and served in the way of a classic American burger. It's Indian-American "fusion" food, although I'm quite certain you could dish them up with naan and chutney and make something a bit more authentically Indian if you wanted to.

I'm a fan. No major complaints. I'll throw out 4 stars for these puppies. Sonia will follow suit.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Vegetable Pakoras

Reminiscent of Trader Joe's Heat and Eat Falafel, these happy little balls of Indian food are nearly as unique as their name. I've been to a good number of Indian joints, but I don't believe I've ever heard of pakoras before.

Like falafel, they're made with chick peas, but these also have potatoes, peas, carrots, onions, and some Indian spices rolled up and fried to perfection. To heat, you just pop these frozen puppies in the oven for 15 minutes. They come with a sweet tamarind sauce—which became a topic of hot debate in our household.

This tamarind sauce not only defied our expectations, but apparently defied several universal laws of nature as well. First of all, when something from Trader Joe's is supposed to be sweet, it's a universal law that I'll be the one complaining that it's not sweet enough, and Sonia will say that it's either perfect or maybe even too sweet. Of this sauce, she said the opposite. And I was quite happy with it's sweetness-level—but then, I was expecting sweet as in tangy, spicy, Indian sweet; not sweet as in fresh orange marmalade sweet. Not that Sonia was expecting the latter, but she did somehow seem very disappointed, and said "I wasn't expecting it to be so bitter." Bitter is one of the last words I would use to describe it. She also called it sour. It was tangy, but I certainly wouldn't call it "sour" exactly. It was good if you ask me, and including it in this package definitely impacted my score of this product for the better. Also, strangely enough, Sonia loves everything made with tamarind. Maybe she thought the sauce would be sweet because "tamarind" to her means a flavor of Mexican candy or the Jarritos brand Tamarindo flavored soda. That particular flavor of "refresca" is the only Jarritos I can't stand, and I think the candy is even worse.

As for the pakoras themselves, we were both fans. I personally think the heat and eat falafel is just a tad tastier. I can't put my finger on why exactly—I think the falafel just seems richer and nuttier somehow. The texture of a falafel ball is denser; thicker than these pakora snacks. More filling in a way—but not by much. Although with significantly more ingredients, the taste of these pakora balls is a bit more complex, and perhaps just a little lighter. I felt the sauce complemented their flavor and added a welcomed flair, but Sonia preferred them dry.

Sauceless or not, we both came to the same conclusion. These pakoras are worthy of 4 stars from each of us. Vegans, go nuts. Fans of cheap foreign foods, rejoice. Trader Joe's adventurers, dive in.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gummy Tummies

My wife told me something just a few days ago that may have literally changed everything ever: I, Russ Shelly, in my house, in my kitchen, on my IKEA-bought kitchen shelf, own my own candy jar, all for me. You see, up to that point, I knew we had three apothecary jar-type things up there above the microwave. One was for granola bars and the like, one for little hard candy things which are pretty easy for me to ignore, and one for all sorts of tasty looking treats that I have been told in no uncertain terms are absolutely off limits to me at all times. You can guess which one is mine, and I presume the reason why there's no little tasty-tasties in it is because I ate them all already. As I've alluded to before, Sandy's a lot more patient with her stash and even hides candy from me at times so she can enjoy them over days or weeks or even months. Relatedly, dear, that box of Girl Scout Tagalongs we have in the pantry? I haven't touched it but it's officially on notice - it's way past the statute of limitations of any claim of spousal ownership. Still, I think of all of the ramifications of this discovery - no more arguments over whose candy is whose, who ate it all, and so on -it's either in my jar or it isn't. I didn't know that's what the system was, and as long as I can fill it with tastier stuff than these nastastic chunks (which we still have half a bag of), I'm good.

Although, I'd like to point out that I sometimes buy candy for the express purpose of us sharing it and not me hording it. Case in point: Trader Joe's Gummy Tummies. I got them especially with Sandy in mind, as she loves gummy candies and is obsessed with anything penguin-related. Seriously, you should have seen her at the New England Aquarium a few summers ago - I'm just happy she didn't jump over the rail and start swimming along. So even though we had them a few weeks, and even though it crossed my mind multiple times to just take them into work for a snack one day, no, I held off until we needed an after-work snack to get us through our baby furniture shopping run (at IKEA, coincidentally or not. I feel like our house is like that scene in Fight Club sometimes).

Anyways, the gummies. Not bad at all, friends. Definitely good. Each bag has three flavors - cherry, lime and strawberry - and each "penguin" piece has two facets. The firmer main gummy body and the squishier, kinda liquidy tummy that kinda splash out as you bite them. That might bring to mind those Gusher thingies from back in the day, but these TJ gummies have more of a splash while being more gummy bear like overall. None of the individual flavors really stick out as being better than the others. They're all just good, and are just sweet and sugary enough without going overboard.

The only somewhat negative thing I can say about them is, for being advertised as penguins, the gummies sure look a lot more like a slightly frumpy Grimace than any type of aquatic arctic bird. In fact, I'd say they really don't resemble penguins at all. Although, I guess that can be positive, in that you're less likely to equate chowing down on them with spilling the blood of some poor penguin across your molars. Those soft tummies can really add that illusion if you allow it...sorry if that ruined these for anyone....

Other than that, these TJ Gummy Tummies work pretty darn well. Sandy and I plowed through the bag we had, even though there were plenty in there for the $1.99 we paid for the sack. I could tell we both liked them, even though when I asked Sandy for her expert opinion, she just kinda said, "It was there. It was candy. I ate it." Strangely enough, that's how I approach most candy, and that's why Sandy has all the goodies and I'm currently stuck with stale breath mints. Anyways, she didn't give an exact score, but I figure these are worth at least an 8 out of 10, and however you'd like to split our spoons from there, you're probably right.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gummy Tummies: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mini Cheddar Chipotle Potato Bites

Okay, for once, I don't have any long, drawn-out cutesy tales about potatoes or whatever. I can't even think of a decent way I can use these Trader Joe's Mini Cheddar Chipotle Potato Bites to poke some fun at my wife. I mean, a potato is a potato, right? There's really not anything that can be said for it, except, dangit, they're good in nearly every incarnation. I cannot think of a single bad thing to say about potatoes, which is really kinda the best thing one can say about something. Potatoes are even better when you use them as base for all sorts of toppings and goodies. For me, it's tough to beat a little butter and some cheese, but if there's bacon, some sour cream, and something spicy available, well, hey, they're all welcome to the party, too. I don't discriminate.

That's pretty much exactly what you get with these potato bites. For $3.99 a box, you get a bunch of the little Lilliputian hors d'oeuvres which are a reasonable knock-off of one of those 37 pieces of flair-type restaurant appetizers. They're kinda better in some ways while not as good in others. Let me explain. First and foremost, when's the last time you actually tasted any potato in a loaded potato skin-type dish? For me, I'd have to say...never. There's all the stuff glopped on top that keeps your tastebuds way too otherwise occupied. Not these Trader Joe's tasty taters. Every single bite had plenty of warm, soft, baked potato to it. Absolutely delicious in that regard.

The issue is, aside from the potato, the predominant tastes are cheddar cheese and sour cream, both of which are pretty mild. Now that's not a bad thing, but both the box and my eyes tell me there's also supposed to be chipotle peppers and bacon in here. Can't taste either, though, and I really wish I could. There's maybe a vague hint of smokiness but that's as close as it gets. That's kinda disappointing, because dangit, I know how good potatoes and cheese and bacon and hot peppers taste together. That's what I like to fill my own homemade pierogis with, and with a little sour cream to top them off, they're perfect. These could be almost as good...oh great...I just made myself hungry for homemade pierogis...do you have any idea how much work those are?...dangit...I digress...

Anyways, Sandy loves these potato bites. Loves them. From what I've heard she's been yapping to a bunch of her coworkers how good they are, and in the few days since we've polished them off, she's said more than once about how much she wishes we still had some around the house to munch on down. The only slightly negative thing I've heard her say about them is how she wishes they had just a little kick to them. Anyways, they're a 4.5 in her book, and I imagine next tme we go to TJ's she'll pick these up and give me the puppy dog eyes to convince me to get them again. She won't have to try too hard, because overall I like them too, despite how much better the mini spuds could be. Let's say I like them 3.5 Golden Spoons worth.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mini Cheddar Chipotle Potato Bites: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Reduced Fat Battered Shrimp

It can be ridiculous, what you have to go through sometimes for some good, relatively inexpensive seafood. Take Sandy's and my recent stop by in Baltimore to see the National Aquarium after spending a couple days in DC and before seeing my folks for the night a little outside Philly. Baltimore's Inner Harbor is one teeming tourist-trap central, and the town's known for their crabcakes, so hey, that's a tasty sounding lunch idea that firmly lodged itself into my beautiful wife's noggin. So, after oohing at the puffins and ogling all the sharks, we exited the aquarium in search of lunch. All the fancy-schmancy, $25-a-crabcake, places were open, but, uh, that's just a little steep for us. So we went out in search of other places around the harbor, looking them up on Yelp and whatnot, just to find every seafood joint was closed for renovations. Seriously? it's April, prime tourist season, and you're closed? That's not so bright. Anyways, it became obvious to find some affordable lunch, we'd have to leave the Inner Harbor, but we also wanted to go up and see Camden Yards and the Babe Ruth Museum that's only two blocks away from there, and our car was already parked as close as it was gonna get for something like $25 for the day, so I guess somehow or other we figured it was alright enough of an idea to go scope out those places, growling tummies be darned. Like pretty much every other walk we planned that weekend, it turned out to be a a lot farther than we thought (keep in mind, my wife's 30ish weeks pregnant, so that doesn't help matters) so by the time we were done there, I left Sandy at a place where she could sit and get a cold drink as I ran back towards the Harbor to get our car. In that time, she found a great, local, hole-in-the-wall kinda place (our favorite kind of restaurant) just a few miles away, right off I-95, called LP Steamers where the two of us got a delicious seafood feast for the price of a crabcake and maybe a Sprite at one of the supertouristymucketymuck places. Great find.

Fortunately it's not always that tough, thank goodness. Take these Trader Joe's Reduced Fat Battered Shrimp. On my recent one man hunt-and-gather trip, all I had to do was spot them, think how tasty they looked, figure out if the price was right ($6.99, high potential for two dinners each for the two of us, so yup), then swipe my debit card at the checkout for them. Come home, fire up the oven, slide some on a cookie tray, go annoy the wife for a bit as they bake, then whip them out of the oven. Now that's what I call easy.

And these shrimp deliver, too. I mean, usualy I hear the words "reduced fat" and think "reduced taste," but these shellfishy bites are really pretty darn good. The batter is a little thicker than I expected - it's cornmeal-based, so kinda corn-dog-like - but it's definitely good and helps add a little more to each bite. The shrimp inside is warm, fleshy, a little moist and certainly tailless, so no worries about choking on that. It's also firm and not salty or mushy, like I've had way too many times with other store brands. Altogether, each piece hits home with a little comfort food-esque vibe, and are actually filling enough that I feel like I'm satisfied after "only" a regular serving size. That's a rarity for me.

We're both fans of the shrimp and we'll be getting it again for sure. The second time we had it, as I brought out her dinner plate to her, I think Sandy said something to the general effect of "Yaaaaaaaay it's shrimp time!!!" At the very least, she said "mmm" a whole bunch and that these were "much better than those coconut guys." Yeah, I concur with that. Those were kinda weird while these reduced fat battery bites are good on their own and would go well with whatever kinda sauce you like to drench your seafood in. I don't think I could be much happier with them, except the name leaves me wondering what they're a "reduced fat" version of, as to my recollection I haven't seen just "regular" battered shrimp at TJ's, and I can't help but think those just might be a smidge or two tastier. No matter. Matching 4.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Reduced Fat Battered Shrimp: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Rolled Oats & Peanut Butter Fiberful Granola Bars

Chocolate. Peanut butter. I'm firmly convinced that there's nothing that this combo can't do. Every year, right around Easter time, I'm reminded how good it is because of all the Reese's eggs and other choco/pb candies that float around. There's this flea market that, growing up, my family almost always went to the Saturday of Easter weekend that had this dirt cheap candy stand that overflowed with every type of candy imaginable. My dad would give each of us $5 and whatever I didn't spend on a bag of all black jelly beans (my absolute favorite) I spent on the little foil-wrapped chocolate p.b filled bunny rabbits, and I'd get handfuls and handfuls of them. It's a combo I'm still not sick of to this very day, as evidenced by my Hoover impersonation everytime I raid my mother-in-law's candy dish when we visit her. Man, I just love it.

Well, these Trader Joe's Rolled Oats & Peanut Butter Fiberful Granola Bars didn't come from a candy store or the Easter bunny, but really, they could have. The wifey and I got these for easily portable for a long weekend trek we just made to Washington DC to see some of the museums and sites. If you haven't been, it's a lot more walking than it looks like on the maps, and I mean a lot, especially when you're six-plus months pregnant like my dear, beautiful wife. It was so much walking that at one point I nearly considered getting us Segways before remembering their inventor died from driving one off a cliff or something crazy like that.

Anyways, these granola bars. These don't disappoint me one bit. I somehow missed the fact that there's chocolate in them until I ripped the package off one of these in a ravenous rage, but there's lots of milk chocolate, from a full bottom coating to the stripes up top, just as they appear on the package. Know what else isn't in short supply? The peanut butter chips. There's tons of them, enough that the whole bar is a dead ringer for a Reese's candy bar, except there's rolled oats holding it all together. Now, I haven't been keeping on my reading of the latest rolled oat technology, but TJ's figured out a way to fortify the bars with some extra fiber (9 grams per bar!). To me, I hear about something having that kinda fiber and expect it to taste funny or be texturally stiff, or have some less-than-desirable side effects, but not one of those was true for these oats and p.b. bars. Each bar was about four or five decent bites, and were a little more filling than regular granola bars, making them a perfect snack to mush into a camera bag for the day, and for something like $3 for a box of five, were way cheaper than any snack options at museum cafes. Those places are freakin' rip-offs.

Chocolate and peanut butter combo products, like these cupcakes and cookies, typically do pretty well on the blog. These granola bars will not be an exception. I cannot think of a single way to knock them, and I will be getting these again the next time I need a reliable, easily-portable snack. I mean, they didn't even get remotely melty and mushy. Just perfect. I'm going with a five. Sandy wasn't as enthused with them as me, but still really liked them. "Eh, I've had better granola bars," she said without much further explanation. In my opinion, if she had, she's holding out on me. She's going with a four.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Rolled Oats & Peanut Butter Fiberful Granola Bars: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crunchy Curls

Lentil and potato snacks? Sounds like hippie food to me. Luckily, I'm pretty well in touch with my inner-hippie. No, I'm not really into free love or smoking pot or anything like that, but I'm all about recycling and peace and unique gluten-free snack foods.

As some of you may be aware, I am also a junk food cowboy of sorts, and I'll eat anything that's overly sweet or salty or bad for me. However, that's not the end of the story. I'm pretty open to new things, and some healthy stuff really grabs me for reasons I can't quite always explain. Like these.

Lentils are the unsung heroes of the legume world. Rich with fiber, minerals, and protein, they make good soup, and apparently, pretty decent crunchable snacky things. I've always liked the taste of lentils. So earthy and hearty...they're like meaty little vegetables. As healthy things go, lentils have just about as good a flavor as anything I've tried. Sonia is amazed that they're so filling and yet have so few calories. Good job, nature. The lentil has our seal of approval. Now...if you could do something about the taste of cauliflower...

And these lentils are spirals. They're really, really curly. There's a certain novelty to the heavily-curled nature of these snacks. Curly-fries are curled, and so are Fritos. But they're not as curly as these little curlicues. Curl-o-rama. And they're really, really crunchy. If there's one thing I'm a fan of, it's when a product lives up to its name. I don't like to be tricked. If the bag says "crunchy" and "curly," then the crunchiness and curliness factors better be well above average. And in this case, they are. I'm thinking the potatoes may be mostly responsible for the crunchiness, a la Trader Joe's Veggie Sticks.

I'm not sure why I like these so much. They aren't bursting with sweetness or saltiness or anything like that...they're just wholesome and rich—and yet somehow still light. I give them a 3.5. Sonia gives them a 4. Really darn good all the way.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Wafer Cookies

Are they wafers? Or are they cookies? Come on, Trader Joe, make up your mind. I think you could have just dropped the "cookies" from the already lengthy title of these delectable snacks. The term "wafers" would adequately describe them.

By now, if you've been reading this blog for a while, you should know that if we start off by critiquing the artwork on the bag or the name of the food itself, that there's not a whole lot else to complain about. It's always fun to start off an entry with a complaint. It grabs the reader's attention and gets them thinking about what kind of shallow, horrible people we are to tear apart their favorite grocery store chain's products on the highly subjective basis of flawed packaging, and it allows the reader to feel better about him or herself, knowing that he or she does not succumb to such trivialities, thus inflating the ego, generating a sense of well-being, and subconsciously inviting the reader to proceed into the rest of the semi-informative blog entry written by someone of questionable moral fiber.

Having purged myself of negativity in the preceding paragraph, I shall now go on to sing the praises of these snacksational wafers. Dark chocolate? Not even really a fan in general. I prefer white chocolate because it has more sugar. But as was the case with the Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Filled Cupcakes, there's a great balance of sweetness and richness. Sonia loves dark chocolate desserts as a rule, and these wafers were no exception.

As for the waferage, I was skeptical at first. The only dessert wafers I've ever had, prior to these, were those cheap, nasty artificial cream-filled deals that you get from vending machines. For some reason, those always taste stale to me, even when they're supposedly fresh. But the crispy, wafery part in Trader Joe's product was decidedly crunchable and happy, nestled among layers of creamy peanut butter.

They're the perfect size, too. They really are "bite-size," in my opinion. There are so many products out there that try to get away with that "bite-size" label, but really, bite-sized mini-wheats, who do you think you're fooling? I can easily fit 3 or 4 of those guys in my mouth in one bite. And what's up with sushi? I don't know if they cut the rolls into smaller bites in Asian countries, but every time I have a piece here, I feel like I've eaten an entire fish in one bite. I wind up chewing for ages. Way too big. But these wafers, er cookies, er wafer cookies...their size is spot on. Bite-freaking-sized. All other so-called "bite-sized" foodstuffs in existence should be produced with the exact dimensions of these wafers.

To summarize, we've got a great, crispy snack on our hands here. Sonia and I are both big fans. She's going with a 4.5. I'm a big fan, too, but I think I'll stick with 4 stars. But Trader Joe, if you're listening to me out there, if you ever make a white chocolate version, I promise I'll give 'em at least a 4.5...

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese

Based on either past employment or college eating habits, there's still a lot of foods I'm loathe to have again. For instance, I have nothing against either Papa John's or Domino's Pizza, but as I worked for both (and ate way too much of their respective pies), I'm not going to be ordering from them any time soon. Neither will I stop by a Boston Market...I worked for one in high school, and I've seen how things are made, and smelled how nasty the chicken skewer-soaking vat o' acid is..no thanks. In December, it will be nine years since I graduated from Penn State, and I think since then I've had about ten packs of Ramen noodles, which is about what I consumed every three days in Happy Valley.

For a long time, mac and cheese was in the same boat. I'm not talking about the homemade stuff, of course. That's nearly always delicious, especially when made by my sister-in-law Megan, and occasionally by my mom when she isn't trying to sneak canned tuna into it (I HATE tuna - blahhh). I'm talking the from-a-box, ten-minutes-on-a-stovetop-type stuff. I could never bring myself to go the Easy Mac route. But yeah, when it wasn't pizza or Ramen in college, it was a box of Kraft. Occasionally I got fancy and got the shells and cheese version, but that got old, too.

Anyways, we're here to talk about Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese, with (allegedly) Wisconsin cheddar. For whatever reason, probably partially because we've been crazily busy, Sandy and I have gone on a kick with it. At first, yeah, I wasn't so excited about it, but I'll admit, it's growing on me. It's the typical elbow macaroni in a box with some cheesy powder to mix in with some milk and butter, of which I usually put in just a little extra to make the sauce a little creamier. The macaroni is just about right (which, let's be honest, would be hard to screw up) while the cheese, well...it's been so long since I've had the famous blue box brand that I don't recall exactly how that tastes to make a direct comparison, but the TJ's strikes me as being just better. I doubt that the cheese flavor is so authentically Wisconsinite that it matches perfectly with a Spotted Cow, but hey, it is kinda cheddary and tasty enough on its own. It's even better with some hot sauce mixed in (haven't tried the TJ's yet, but just finally kicked a gallon jug of Red Devil, so I will soon!) to make what I, for whatever reason, call "schmac 'n cheese." Hmm, that sounds even dumber when I type it...anyways....

For a buck a box, the mac 'n cheese does its job. It's not the best mac 'n cheese product that TJ's offers (there's a competitor or two), but for a quick, reliable, chewing-optional bite, I think it's good. No, it won't beat out your Aunt Millie's, but nothing from a box ever will. As the one who initially semi-twisted my arm into buying it, Sandy is definitely a fan. "Much better than Kraft, and so good with hot sauce," she said before slapping a four on it. Me? It's helping restore my faith in a boxed convenience American classic. That's worth at least something like a four as well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sea Salt & Turbinado Sugar Dark Chocolate Almonds

It's hard to really, truly, live up to the hype sometimes. Take, for instance, the new Hunger Games movie. Pretty much everyone I know has seen it and I've heard it talked about so much, including by our most recent TJ's cashier who was gushing over it. General consensus: OMG!!! Now, Sandy and I have both read the whole trilogy, and had plans for a Sunday afternoon matinee with some good friends of ours, who've also read all three books. I tell ya what: it wasn't bad. I actually thoroughly enjoyed it, although the scene with the trackerjackers made me wince. I'd actually say it's the rare movie that, to me, can make the claim that it's better than the book*, mostly because I don't have to wade through all of Katniss' teenage girly emotional junk. I hated that part of the books. But yeah, the movie...pretty darn good. I wouldn't go say it's my favorite, or the best one ever, or even give it a thought come awards season time, but in the end, I got my money's worth and I liked it. Not bad for the first movie I've seen on opening weekend since Snakes on a Plane**.

In the end, that's kinda how I feel about the Trader Joe's Sea Salt & Turbinado Sugar Dark Chocolate Almonds. These have been so highly recommended over and over and over again by so many of our readers. Truthfully, I've never seen them before our aforementioned most recent trip, and so have never had them before Sunday. These have been so hyped up, and so highly recommended, that Sandy and I are the last people on earth to try these, probably.

Don't get me wrong, I like them. There's absolutely nothing in the world wrong with a big tasty roasted almond coated in smooth, rich, dark chocolate. Nothing at all. Add in a good healthy pinch of sea salt to punctuate each bite, and that makes them even better. I'll admit that before these, I've never heard of "turbinado sugar", which in case you're as uncool as I was, is natural brown sugar partially refined right from sugar cane. Look close enough at these nuts and you'll see the big ol' crystals of it, which do add a little extra sweetness here and there, but overall I don't see anythng too special about the sugar - it's like, hey, let's make up a fancy name for it. Really, though, I like these choco-almonds, especially the ones with just a bit more salt than the others.

In the end, though, they just don't blow me away. I mean, TJ's makes them sound all super-fancy, and these nuts apparently have a huge following, but to me, they're better than the the typical chocolate covered nut but not by all that much. I can happily just eat a couple of these and be done with them, which my wife is proud of me for. Maybe. As for her, well, let's use her own words here. As you can see on the picture there, we ripped these open before getting one of the necessary shots. "Just tell them that the pregnant lady couldn't wait long enough for you to fiddle with your camera to start munching on them," Sandy said. She's so cute when she's impatient. Yet she's not so up on them either. When I asked her what she thought about them, she gave me a "meh" while admitting she wanted to sneak some when she got home from work on Monday but didn't with it being Lent and all still. I'm thinking that between the two of us we'd give them a 3.5 or a 4 each, so let's go with one of each. Now may the odds be ever in your favor.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sea Salt & Turbinado Sugar Dark Chocolate Almonds: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* The only slam dunk "movie that was better than the book" has to be The Princess Bride.
** Not my all-time favorite movie, but it was my all-time favorite "time going to a movie." It was a late night showing, with the theater maybe about half-full, but with everyone openly mocking it throughout the whole movie...man, it was awesome.

Trader Joe's Turkey Corn Dogs

My friend Trader Joe is the corn dog king. He did Veggie Corn Dogs right. He even did some kick-butt Shrimp Corn Dogs. And slightly less weird than Shrimp Corn Dogs—he went and made some scrump-dilly Turkey Corn Dogs, too.

TJ's is batting a thousand with corn dogs if you ask me. My scores have been slightly higher than Sonia's, but she's more or less in agreement. She was never a fan of corn dogs before Trader Joe showed up on the scene. I've always liked corn dogs—even the kind from the scary, greasy lunch trucks that don't publish their ingredients and are more than likely made at least partially of pig snouts, hooves, and other kinds of scrapple-type stuff. I know it's not necessarily your forté, Trader Joe, but I certainly wouldn't mind an all-beef corn dog. I'm not much of a pig-eater anymore, but if you made an oldschool pork corn dog, I'd totally try it.

But, ah, the good people reading this post would like to know about these Turkey Corn Dogs. I think these could be the best TJ's corn dogs yet - the best TJ's food I've eaten in a while. No complaints. Had 'em with ketchup, but they were more than fine just plain. Perfect balance of cornbread outside and yummy turkey poultry meatiness inside. And it didn't taste like regular turkey...it totally tasted like a turkey dog. Not that regular turkey would have been a bad taste—just kind of strange, maybe? There's a certain consistency to a good turkey dog that just rocks when served within a cornbread shell. And the wooden stick never hurts. I don't know what it is, but food always tastes better on a stick: think lollipops, cotton candy, shish kabobs, and that corn-on-the-cob that Latinos eat with butter, mayo, chili powder, and lime. Mmmm.

Sonia gives these a 4. That's a really good score for Sonia for a corn dog. And...I...think...I'm totally gonna go out on a limb and give these the first perfect score I've given anything in a long time. 5. Boom. There it is.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Quinoa and Black Bean Infused Tortilla Chips and Trader Joe's Edamame Hummus

Sometimes, I'll admit, I get a little tired of some of Trader Joe's offerings. Take, for example, these pretzels. I definitely think they're good and all, but I feel like I pick them up every week for work lunches along with some of the same Mexi-knockoff fare. A big part of it is, I just don't see a great alternative most of the time, so I go to what I know what I can rely on. But still, I want to try something new if TJ's could just be bothered to go put something new on the shelves. By in large, I've felt the same about a lot of their chip and dip offerings. Granted, some combos are great, but when a few months go by and it's still the same old same old, well, I begin to get antsy for something new.

Sandy and I found ourselves in this boat on our most recent trip. We had plans to have some friends and family over for some homemade calzones later that night, so dangit, we needed a great, easy appetizer. The Falafel Chips (which we've had and chomped down before we thought about snapping a decent picture of them) were out of stock yet again* so we were down one tasty (and out of consideration for one guest, gluten-free) alternative. It wasn't looking good until...

Boom! Trader Joe's Quinoa and Black Bean Infused Tortilla Chips practically rose from the dusty bin like some cheesy glowing sitcom deus ex machina. Okay, well, not quite, but you get what I mean. It wasn't even a question, especially when considering some past tremendous experiences with some other bean-and-grain chips. Man, these chips are amazing. Each chip is thick and crunchy like any good stoneground corn tortilla chip should be, but have the added texture of quinoa coating sprinkled on each "bean-wah" chip (as I've caught myself calling them). Every bite definitely delivered not only that, but also a full tasty flavor coming from the beans with just the right amount of garlic and onion salt. Some might say they're a little salty, but to me, they're just right, as each chip is fully flavored on its own, but the taste won't interfere with your dip of choice. These were a great option with some leftover chipotle hummus we had from the week before, as well as...

...some Trader Joe's Edamame Hummus we picked up at the same time. Granted, this hummus isn't exactly a new product as we've seen it a few times, but haven't really tried it out, so let's just call it "new for us," mmmkay? Kinda like our recent vehicle purchase in that regard. Anyways, as we try to coach our two-and-a-half year old nephew to say, "hummus is yummus" and this one is no exception. Edamame is the rare veggie for Sandy in that it's acceptable in pretty much any fashon at any time. To call this a "hummus" seems a little off to me. Sure, it has all the good ingredients like tahini and garlic, etc, in it, but texture-wise it seems closer to a smooth guacamole rather than the usual smushed semi-grainy chickpea-ness of typical hummus. I'd say that it doesn't have an overly strong flavor - a little garlic, a little pepper, and a little, well, edamame - but paired together with these chips, I think it was perfect. Literally. No complaints at all.

I'll switch it up and do my ratings first this time. I might just be a little excited about some new flavors, but the quinoa/black bean chips are a rock solid perfect 5, while the edamame hummus...oh, what the heck, a 5 as well. Put the two together, and it's a personal pantheon level snack. While I didn't poll our dinner guests, judging by how everyone was scrambling for the chips and digging into the hummus, I'd say they weren't far behind. Sandy, though? Maybe she's returning the favor of me keeping these ridiculously good cookies from getting perfect marks, because I know she really liked them but she won't go with full fives. "Oh, something like a four for the beany chips, and something good for the humus, like a 3 or 3.5 or something," she said. I wanted to ask for a fuller explanation but she gave me a look that indicated that wouldn't be the best of ideas, so let's leave it at that. Eh well, For me personally, I can't wait to get tired of this snackalicious combo.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Quinoa and Black Bean Infused Tortilla Chips: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Edamame Hummus: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Yet another First World Problem.

Trader Joe's Journey to the Center of the Cookie

Sandy and I gave up sweets for Lent this year, and let me tell you: it sucks. It's way more difficult than I imagined it'd be. A couple years ago, I gave up beer and alcohol. It really wasn't that bad, aside from a night or two when I had a passing hankerin' for a Yuengling. Last year, we gave up meat. Now, that was a little tougher, but it led me to discover all sorts of vegetarian goodies, so all good. But sweets? Man, I never realized it, but I count on those to get me through the day. It's easily the toughest of the three things I mentioned to give up. I think it's because of where and when all of them are socially acceptable. Drinking in a bar's okay, while it's not while working or driving. Meat's okay in your cubicle if your workplace has a lenient "food-at-desk" policy and in your vehicle if you don't mind dripping a turkey leg around everywhere, but it's not like you would keep a bag of bacon stashed away somewhere for constant snacking (unless you're more awesome than I am). Sweet sugary stuff? Acceptable everywhere except maybe the dentist chair or a diabetic convention. Candies and cookies and all that are just everywhere - you can't avoid them. I never thought it'd be so tough.

Fortunately, we ascribe to the practice that on Sundays you can take a break from your Lenten fast. Count the days up from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday and subtract the Sundays - it equals 40 days. That's why on Sunday, Sandy and I had peanut butter Oreos not once but twice before lunch, plotted a late night Rita's Italian Ice trip, and in between, when we stopped at Trader Joe's for our weekly grocery haul, we just knew we had to get these Journey to the Center of the Cookie(s) to get our chocolate fix in while we could.

Yeah, we're bad, but these cookies certainly aren't. In fact, they're pretty fantastic despite being such a basic product in the freezer section. All it takes is about 10 minutes in the oven to turn these tundrafied cookie pucks into warm, soft, chewy, gooey, oozey chocolate chip cookies with a lake of milk chocolate in the middle spilling all over the cookie and into your mouth. Oh goodness - so good. If you're familiar with the Nestle Tollhouse recipe for chocolate chip cookies (the best in my opinion), the cookie portion is a dead ringer for them. Sandy and I ate at least the first few bites of ours with a fork (calling to mind a classic Seinfeld episode) since they were so gooey and melty. These would be perfect with a scoop of vanilla ice ream, which we unfortunately didn't have. These cookies are large, soft, delicious, and after a week of being self-deprive of chocolate, simply hit the spot.

"I really can't think of any way these could be any better," Sandy said. I agree. The only negative I can think of are the nutritional facts (avert your eyes! - sorry it's so blurry, that's not intentional), which let's face it, these are certainly not an everyday kinda treat anyways. If you're gonna spoil yourself for a day, you gotta go whole hog. Also, at $2.99 a pair, they're not exactly overpriced, but not cheap either. With a little ice cream, though, just one of these cookies makes a good shareable dessert for two, I'd think. unless you and your dessert buddy are chocaholics. That may become an issue. Perhaps it's because of the lack of sweets from much of the week, but Sandy went ahead and gave these bad boys a perfect five? Me? I'm tempted but objectively, to me, they're not quite pantheon level. That doesn't mean I can't put these journey cookies on the doorstep of greatness.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Journey to the Center of the Cookie: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons