Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Coffee Buzz Bars

 A normal ounce of dark chocolate contains roughly 12mg of caffeine according to the allknowing Googlemachine. That's...not a lot. 

A regular cup of coffee contains about 90mg of caffeine. Sometimes that's not nearly enough, other times, well, could be a bad idea if you need a little shuteye soon enough, or if you've already had a couple cups. 

So, Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Coffee Buzz Bars, with 70mg of caffeine per serving, seems a happy medium between the two, with a little bit of both all mixed up.

Really, the easiest way to describe the taste of these bars is as a chocolate-covered coffee bean, in bar form without the crunchy bean. That's really pretty much it. Pretty heavy on the bitterness, and decidedly more towards coffee as the caffeine content alludes to, there's still enough chocolate to be had to help balance out this fairly bittersweet little treat.

 It's one of those kinda deals where a little could go a long way, and thankfully the packaging allows for it. I believe my lovely bride referred to it as a portfolio. The outer package has four smaller bars nestled inside, individually wrapped for an easy purse/manbag grab. As decadent as these choo-coffee bars are, just a dab will do you most likely, so I'm thankful for not one huge solid bar to try and manage. Good call here, TJ's. 

Good stuff, and it's a treat that's absolutely for the grownups. Sandy loves them as they combine two of her top five favorite things in one tidy little package. If only there was a way to also incorporate puppies, bacon, and Lin-Manuel Miranda she'd be set...but she'll go ahead give it a perfect five anyways. Loves it. Me? I'm not as huge but am not opposed either, but it's not nearly as much my thing. I'll go with a 3.5. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Coffee Buzz Bars: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Pineapple Fruit Spread

Jam, jelly, preserves, spread, compote, marmalade. I won't pretend to know the differences among them. A thirty second internet research session on the subject illuminated a few key points: first, jelly is smooth with no fruit chunks. So this is most definitely not jelly.

Second, fruit spreads contain nothing but fruit...unless they're from Trader Joe's, in which case they contain cane sugar and coconut milk, among other natural additives. Depending on which set of criteria you go with, this product might actually qualify as marmalade more than any of the other categories since it has fruit chunks along with sugar, but I guess pineapple isn't technically citrus, so that disqualifies it. But I digress. My point is that there isn't a whole lot of consistency among definitions on the internet as far as jarred fruitstuffs are concerned.

Speaking of consistency, this stuff is chunky. It's thicc with two c's. There are big wads of pineapple chunks here and there. There are also generous quantities of those stringy, pulpy sections of pineapple scattered throughout. I wasn't a huge fan of those. The base of this spread is nice and smooth, so the stringiness kinda gets in the way if you ask me. It wasn't a dealbreaker, though. It's still a great product, versatile and unique.

It's very sweet, tart, and pineappley. If you're so inclined, you could spoon it straight from the jar. I put it on a piece of toast with a little butter, and it's pretty freaking tasty that way. As is the case with many different fruits and fruit spreads, it goes great with cottage cheese. Another idea we haven't tried yet but are fairly confident will work: throw it in a blender with vanilla ice cream and make a pineapple milkshake.

Sonia was grossed out by this, but I'll share it anyway for those of you with strong stomachs: I made a peanut butter and pineapple fruit spread sandwich. It totally worked, IMHO. Not saying you need to try it that way, but maybe if you're feeling adventurous, you know... I'll still take grape jelly over pineapple spread for my daily PBJ, but hey, variety is the spice of life as they say.

We're going to baste some salmon in this stuff tonight with a bit of teriyaki sauce glaze, too. We'll report back if anybody's interested.

It would also make a great dip/topping for coconut shrimp. I also thought of putting pieces of turkey bacon on a pizza and then adding a few dollops of this spread for a makeshift kosher Hawaiian pizza, but nah, this stuff's too sweet methinks—too much sugar for an application like that.

Pineapple fans, have at it. I just wish it were a little less stringy. Sonia gives it four out of five stars. I'll go with three and a half.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jerk Chicken Burrito

Lately, I've been waking up super early. Not sure if it's just part of being an old man or a type of insomnia or a shift in circadian rhythms. Growing up, I always wanted to stay up as late as I possibly could. I found it exciting. All the best TV shows were on late at night, for one thing. Now, I have little to no interest in television, and in the summer time, I often nod off shortly after the sun sets.

Likewise, I tend to be up an hour or so before sunrise. I find I get a lot done very early in the morning. I can make my own schedule for my work, so I often have more than half the day's tasks completed before the beautiful wifey even wakes up.

I don't know if this goes along with just suddenly becoming a morning person after a lifetime of leaning towards being a night owl, but I find myself craving more substantial food for breakfast, i.e. lunch or dinner type fare for my morning meal. And yes, that's exactly what I did with this jerk chicken burrito. I fired up the oven around 5 a.m. and was chowing down by 5:30 or so.

I'm always super hungry at that hour, and that may have influenced my enjoyment of the product, but I'll try to be objective as I can. First impression: cutting into the burrito, there's a sweet, fruity smell. That must be the fruit salsa mentioned on the wrapper. I'd rather smell spices on jerk chicken, but it can also pair well with sweet stuff, too.

Taste-wise, the sweetness isn't overwhelming. Along with coconut rice, the fruit salsa is enough to give the burrito a distinctly Caribbean flavor. The jerk spices are there, but could be stronger. They linger on the back burner while you chomp away and creep up on you after a number of bites. They're still not as intense as jerk spices should be, but they're flavorful and pleasant.

The texture of the chicken was excellent—cooked to perfection. Trader Joe's chicken products have been hit or miss in that department throughout the years. The chicken chunks here were not chewy or stringy or rubbery, at least in our batch.

I cut the burrito in two and saved half for Sonia, who reheated it in the air fryer and consumed it many hours later around lunch time, like a normal person. She liked it, too, noting the large, whole beans and coconut rice rounded out both taste and texture nicely.

For $3.99, it's a pretty decent meal for one person, or it could be split in two and supplemented with a few snacks or sides. Could use more heat for authentic jerk status, but it'll get a thumbs up from both Sonia and me. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Wildberry Cheesecake Ice Cream

Hot take: this ice cream is very good, bordering on excellent.

While I've heard reports to the contrary, there were very few berries and cheesecake pieces in our pint. Other than that, this ice cream was stellar. It's super creamy, rich, indulgent, and somewhat berry-esque.

I can't imagine if we'd gotten a pint with lots of cheesecake and wild berries. I'd guess we'd have pantheonized this product for sure. Is "pantheonized" a word? Well, it should be...

A quick glance at the ingredients list would suggest that the plump, whole berries in the mix are, in fact, blueberries, however the "swirl" is made of pureed raspberries. It's a pretty tasty combo. I just wish there had been more of it. The white vanilla ice cream base is nothing to complain about, but it needs to increase that very berry area.

The cheesecake pieces were tasty. I'd say we got one tiny cheesecake bite for every five spoonfuls of ice cream. Boo. I want more.

Would have been five stars a piece from Sonia and me. As it stands, we'll give four and a half a piece.

Curious if your pint was chock-full of berries and cheesecake. Let us know in the comments!

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Tangerine Cream Bars

Orange cream. What a great flavor combo. Most of us grew up with orange creamsicles, orange dreamsicles, or 50/50 bars—all basically the same idea.

But what if they swapped out the orange part for something milder and slightly less tart? Something like...you guessed it: tangerine. Brilliant.

The difference is subtle, but it's there. It's definitely tangerine I taste in this popsicle. Here's a funfact that I just learned while typing the previous sentence: "Popsicle" is actually a copyrighted brand name, a la Hoover, Frigidaire, or Kleenex. The preferred nomenclature for this type of frozen treat is "ice pop." Please don't sue us, ©Popsicle brand ice pops.

Moving along... The tangerine flavor allows the vanilla ice cream taste to shine through just a tad more than orange does, in my opinion. There's still a nice citrusy sweetness with just a hint of tang. It's "tangerine sorbet," but it does include actual tangerine juice. Further down the ingredients list, you'll find orange juice, as well, but I'm sticking to my story that this product flaunts a distinctly tangerine flavor profile.

Sonia loved these ice pops even more than I did. With highs in the 90s and significant humidity, she'll open the freezer almost every time she wants a snack. I enjoyed them, too, but after the novelty wears off, I'll probably reach for an old stand-by like unsalted chips and salsa or peanut butter and jelly, and if I want something cold and sweet I'll just grab good old fashioned ice cream.

But still, it's a tasty product and a nice twist on a classic summer treat. $2.99 for 6 bars is a pretty good value, too. Sonia will definitely purchase again. Four and a half stars from the wifey. Three and a half stars from this guy.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Key Lime Kettle Popcorn

Random amazing facts:

Both Nicolas Cage and Sean Connery were almost in the Lord of the Rings movies as Aragorn and Gandalf, respectively. That woulda been interesting, especially if somehow the famous quote from The Rock (kinda NSFWish) got referenced...

Actually, no, my mind is too blown at that to really go on too much more down that rabbit hole, but let's just also mention that somehow, corn is not the number one ingredient in the new Trader Joe's Key Lime Kettle Popcorn. 

Naw, fam, it's good ol sugar. 

More sugar than corn in popcorn - what? Does that technically make this a candy? Can this legally be labelled as popcorn? Who knows? 

At first thought, lime and popcorn seem odd bedfellows, especially key lime for a more dessert-y take than, say, a Mexican-style. But, really, it works. Must be all the sugar. The basis, of course, is a crunchy, fluffy, good ol' fashioned kettle corn kernel, which admittedly I was too busy shoveling into my mouth to snap a pic of...yet again...sorry, fans. The kernels themselves have this somewhat odd looking coloring, almost like a green fluorescent highlighter than may or may not be glow in the dark. But apparently that's all the key lime, because it hits - bright, citrusy, very lime, and super delicious. It's important to note that this is not key lime pie flavor, so don't expect hints of pie crust or cream topping or anything - nah, just good ol' lime. It works, it really works, and in my opinion really oughtta be tasted to have it make sense. It will. 

All the descriptors on the packaging work. Sweet? Yes, obviously. Salty? Of course. Tart? Heck yeah. Tangy? Sure thing. One thing to note: coconut oil is used as the popping oil, and while that doesn't add any obvious flavor, it's something to be aware of for allergen reasons.

We got one bag for our family to take on a picnic dinner to an outdoor concert in the park in the other night, and within seconds each of us were clamoring for the bag and trying to horde as many handfuls as we could. Kids loved it. We loved it. Absolutely we're going to have buy more, and my lovely bride even did some recon on buying a case - it's something like 64 bags, and while that seems a bit overkill, I don't think I'd be terribly upset about it either, long as it got eaten. Hate wasting food. 

Sandy will give it a four, only because she's "not the biggest fan" of kettle corn in general. C'mon now....ok, yes dear. I'll have to go above that. We're gonna have to try our best to bring some more back home and have at it. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Key Lime Kettle Popcorn: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Red Curry Thai Noodles

Time to break out something from the back of the pantry. Red curry Thai noodles. The name sounds appetizing enough. The packaging? Not so much. I've had some truly awful noodle offerings in big paper bowls that look very similar to this one. Hopefully it's just a trick of the eye and this will be on par with or better than the other instant curry options we've seen from Trader Joe's over the years.

After a quick glance at the heating instructions, something stands out to me: there's no mention of adding water. Huh? You mean these things are already full of their own moisture? Or maybe they'll have enough just from the sauce packet mentioned on the packaging..? Not adding water to this big bowl of noodles goes against my every instinct. But I'll be a good boy this time and follow the directions.

Preparation involves opening two big pouches, one full of noodles, one full of sauce and veggies. Then you simply nuke for 90 seconds. Simple enough. No water involved.

Things came out perfectly after following the heating instructions. I stirred the elements around a bit, since the noodles are so tightly packed from being smooshed in their vacuum sealed pouch for goodness knows how long.

The noodles are nice and thick, almost like udon. They've got some body to them. They're nothing like cheap ramen noodles. They're more like soba noodles in terms of thickness, though they're not as dark as buckwheat noodles. Although it's not apparent in the photo I took, there's the perfect amount of sauce to coat all the noodles, which is good because the noodles don't bring a whole lot to the table in terms of flavor just by themselves. There are peas in the mix and also bamboo shoots, which remind me of carrots in terms of texture and maybe even a little in terms of flavor.

The sauce steals the show. It's coconutty, sweet, spicy, and flavorful. I'll almost always want more heat in a product like this one, but I'm honestly surprised just how much spice there is in this bowl—more than enough to keep it interesting. I'm not saying I didn't crave a little more of that Thai red chili spice, but the amount I got was acceptable. I really expected this product to be bland and unappetizing, but I was pleasantly surprised.

I'd ask for more peas, bamboo shoots, and maybe some other veggies in the mix. A little more heat never hurts a dish like this. All in all, not a bad lunch for $2.49. Shelf-stable, pescatarian, easy to prepare, and surprisingly good as far as taste is concerned.

7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Sugar Cones

This week marks the official astronomical start of summer, and that means it's ice cream season. Admittedly, Sonia is more of the cone aficionado, or "conehead," in our household. I'll usually opt to shovel the confectionery dairy right out of the pint container and into my mouth like a true ice cream glutton, although even I like to give it the cone treatment once in a while.

Eating frozen dessert from a cone feels more like you're at the fair or an amusement park—except you don't have to deal with crowds and wonder if someone will bump into you hard enough to knock the ice cream off the cone and onto the ground. It's a real bummer when that happens. Better to just eat the ice cream cone in your own home where there's fewer people. It's less expensive that way, too. There are also not as many roller coasters, which is unfortunate, because I like roller coasters. But I digress.

The cones are the perfect combination of structural integrity and brittle crispness. That is, they won't snap when you're pressing down a scoop of ice cream onto the top, but they crunch and break away nicely when bitten from an angle. They're pleasantly thick, but not to the point where they're difficult to eat.

Trader Joe's Organic Sugar Cones are lightly sweet, with "organic dark brown sugar" as the primary sweetening ingredient. There's an appetizing wheaty breadiness to them and notes of vanilla in the background. They have just enough flavor of their own that they could honestly be a stand-alone snack food, but they're also understated enough that they won't get in the way of your tasty ice cream, no matter the variety.

$2.29 for a product like this is a pretty decent bargain, considering you'll find non-organic cones in other grocery stores for upwards of $3. We wish they were somehow resealable, although they do throw you a bone and wrap them in two columns rather than one, so if you're not going to eat all 12 cones in one sitting, at least half the dozen of them won't go stale right away.

Apparently, these are seasonal, so pick some up before they disappear if you're interested. They have a fairly long shelf life, so you could probably stock up enough to last until next summer if you're a year-round ice cream consumer.

Looks like four stars a piece again for these organic sugar cones. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fruity Gummy Candies

All right. New fruity gummies from Trader Joe's, flavored with actual fruit purees and fruit juice concentrates. I'll cut to the chase today and just break this product down flavor-by-flavor. Let's go!

The pink flavor. Definitely tastes like pink grapefruit. I've always felt pink grapefruits tasted better than regular grapefruit. And this flavor is distinctly pink. Not an intense flavor. Tastes fairly real, natural. Slightly tart, but not as tart as a typical sour gummy. Very tasty as far as soft chewy candy goes, probably my favorite out of these five fruits.

The blue flavor. It looks like grapity purple, but it's actually blue-ish blueberry. Again, not an intense flavor. Doesn't taste much like an actual blueberry, but it's not a bad taste either. Don't think I've ever had a blueberry gummy candy before. It's not like most blueberry desserts I've tried. That's not a bad thing, but be prepared for a lack of sticky syrupy sweetness.

The orange flavor. This mango variety does indeed taste like mango. While not as intense as other mango gummies, it's one of the more distinct flavors in this pack. It tastes slightly citrusy, tangy, and moderately sweet.

The yellow flavor. I like this pineapple candy a lot more than I thought I would, though it was a wee bit less sweet than I'd have assumed. I'd buy a pack of the pineapple gummies just by themselves. 

The red flavor. I have mixed feelings about watermelon. One moment, I feel like it tastes like real watermelon and the next moment, it tastes sorta fake—like a watermelon Jolly Rancher. It's almost as if they mixed real watermelon flavor with fake candy watermelon flavor. All in all, it's much better than the taste and texture of a watermelon Jolly Rancher in my book...or a Jolly Rancher gummy for that matter. This one was probably Sonia's favorite.

Pretty decent selection of gummies. If Sonia and I crave gummies at all, which is rare, we almost universally would reach for something intensely sour if it were available. If I were craving something a bit more tame and traditional, these are about the best conventional gummy candies I've had in a long time. Sonia concurs. Double fours.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Honey Sauce

 Mmmm. "Sauce."

Granted, the use of the word "sauce" in the name "Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Honey Sauce" isn't as intimidating as, say, while cleaning my kitchen for a move years back I found a plain looking packet, on a shelf, with no context or hint or anything for what it contained other than the word SAUCE. Had no idea what kind of sauce or what product it was from. It was....just sauce. And I wasn't gonna find out, as desperate as I may have been to liven up my daily ramen rations at that point. 

Still, it's a bit concerning here. I mean, why "sauce"? What else could you possibly need other than honey and chili pepper for hot honey? Why mess with that?

Apparently, the answer is white vinegar. Go figure. 

Thankfully, the taste of vinegar isn't very apparent in the final TJ's hot honey product unless you're taking a straight from the spoon hit. I tried that and while not overly bad, it wasn't exactly 100% delish. It must not be more than a small splash as the honey itself is still thick and rich, not watered down, and the initial sweet honey hints and the chili afterburn bookend a short but awkward transition phase in the middle that I guess the vinegar helps support somehow. Still not really sure of the purpose of the vinegar to be honest. 

On a final product though? Can't taste the vinegar. Nah. That sweetness rides a whole wave over 'til it's the pepper's turn to take over. It's a very satisfying flavor note that lends itself well to a variety of dishes. First time we tried it, I glazed some over some grilled salmon. The look in my lovely bride's eyes said we'll be doing that again. Dipped some fried right in it, some chicken nuggz to, drizzled some over bacon really just for the heck of it. Can't wait to brush some on some homemade pizza crust, or put some over grilled veggies or potatoes or...the list goes on. Sandy says she'll even put some in some tea. What's your idea? Share away!

Oh, and lest you think that vinegar thing is weird....the ubiquitous Mike's Hot Honey is also composed of the same three ingredients, so there. Don't mess with success. I actually haven't had Mike's in quite a while to really make a direct comparison, though Sandy said Mike's heat hits more as cinnamony-y than pepper-y, at least to her, and TJ's is more the latter.

Good stuff. Whose sauce is boss? Don't care, we'll enjoy 'em both in their turns in our pantry. Double fours.  

Trader Joe's Strawberry & Vanilla Yogurt Pretzels

Vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Vanilla and chocolate cake. Vanilla and chocolate pudding. Why are the first two flavors of everything vanilla and chocolate? And furthermore, why is strawberry so often the third? Of all the myriad fruits on the planet, why strawberry? I guess at Trader Joe's, mango and pumpkin get more than their fair share of representation, but lately we've seen an atypical overrepresentation of strawberry products, too.

That's cool with me. Strawberry is a fine fruit. In many cases, I prefer it over plain vanilla or chocolate. I guess we haven't seen stand-alone "vanilla" pretzels per se, but aren't "yogurt covered pretzels" really just vanilla-flavored? I guess they use the phrase "yogurt candy" because it sounds healthier and more appetizing than "sugary vanilla goo."

Well, here we have miniature pretzels coated in sugary strawberry & vanilla goo, and they're scrump-dilly-icious. In the eloquent words of my beautiful wife Sonia, "They're probably the best pretzels I've had...covered-wise...in something."

I think she added the "covered-wise" part to clarify that they're not better than fresh-baked soft pretzels, but as far as crunchy little dealies that come from a resealable bag, they are indeed among the finest she's ever sampled. I'd be inclined to agree with that assessment.

I actually wish they'd have gone straight strawberry and skipped the vanilla part. The strawberry flavor is most definitely perceivable, but I'd prefer more fruity tang and less generic sweetness. Still, these treats are unique and highly noshable.

The pretzels are described as "teeny tiny" on the bag. I guess they are even smaller than the typical "mini" pretzel. These are like mini-mini. Fine by me. Easier to shovel them into my mouth. MOAR strawberry pretzels! <gurgle>

$2.99 for the 7 oz bag. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream

 It's May in Pittsburgh. Know why they call it that? It *may* freeze. It *may* rain. Heck it *may* hail or flood. With a little luck it *may* be springlike for a few days...before it *may* get hot and burny and kinda gross. At least it's not awfully humid yet. And I just *may* live in an old brick house that two weeks ago I was pumping the heat in to keep it above freezing and now wish my our stackpipe didn't burst a few weeks ago, kinda depleting our extra funds for some HVAC stuff...including emphasis on the AC. 

Ugh. it just *may* be another long, hot summer we're just starting. Get the ice cream. 

Specifically...get the new Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream. 

Ho. Lee. Sheet. It's been a hot minute since TJ's debuted an ice cream that truly impressed us - we're kinda snobby when it comes to our frozen scoops. the wait is over. Soft and creamy right out of the freezer, and a palty $2.99 a pint, this is gonna be my lovely bride's and my ticket to chill this summer. 

The sweet cream base is 100% on point, and the right call. Vanilla would have been a bit too plain, and while something like a bourbon base would be a bold strategy (and welcomed here!), there's perhaps a bit too much risk for the masses. Sweet cream? Don't mind if ya do! Soft, sweet, creamy, and perfectly delish in its own right. Nom.

Add in some peach puree, though? Great touch! We didn't hit much of a vein our carton, but we had was a great touch. Peachy keen. At certain points, the classic combo of peaches and cream approached the point of perhaps a little too cloyingly sweet, but it never strayed over the line. Even more delish. Nomnom. 

But wait...there's more. 'Crunchy buttery oat crisp"? Shut the front door. YES. Though somehow amiss in my photo, there's ample little pebbles and dust and itty bitty clumps of this around. A little salty, earthy, oaty, buttery, crispy, brown sugar and cinnamony - all classic, and amazing, and really puts the final touch on the whole scoop. It's irresistibly good, and adds the impression of peach pie a la mode...except a lot more ice cream.  Nomnomnomnomnom...I could go on...

Love it. Maybe have bourbon on the side. Awesome ice cream. If this were an option at a local ice cream stand, we'd go often for it. Still gonna support local this summer, absolutely, but there's nothing wrong with having a sure thing at home. No real complaints except maybe a touch more peach, but the mileage may vary in your own respective carton. Go get it, you won't regret it. No ifs, ands, buts, or *may*s about it. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Shrimp Seafood Burgers

This is one of those non-beef products that's definitely not even trying to be a hamburger, so why call it a shrimp "burger" at all? I mean, really, it's shrimp and pollock fish and there's no way to make that combo taste like a beef hamburger. It's much more like a chicken patty in terms of texture, and maybe even a little bit in terms of flavor, too. Well, I can't say for sure why Trader Joe's went this route with the moniker, but I, for one, like the word "burger" better than the word "patty" for reasons I can't quite put my finger on, semantically accurate or not.

Taste-wise, it's about equal parts shrimp and pollock, and both flavors are balanced out by garlic powder and other "spices." I can't tell you what the other spices are, because Trader Joe's didn't tell me, but I can say that they're definitely detectable and also delectable by my reckoning.

The burgers are not hot nor spicy by any means, just flavorful and savory—not fishy at all, either. Another plus: they actually stay together when being consumed and don't disintegrate and crumble like some other patties we've seen from Trader Joe's. Must be the rice flour.

The four little discs come individually packaged. So far we've tried heating them on the skillet and also in the air fryer. Both methods yielded pleasant results and took comparable heating times, although the air fryer method was preferred just ever so slightly by both Sonia and me. The air fryer heating method wasn't listed on the packaging this time. We just winged it. I think it was about 375 degrees for 8 or 9 minutes.

The patties go well with condiments like sweet chili sauce, or you can burger them up and use a mild cheese and toppings like lettuce, mayo, and mustard. I can't see ketchup working too well with something like this, but I could be wrong. In general, ketchup is probably my favorite condiment for beef hamburgers, so it's not like I'm biased against it. I just don't do ketchup with fish, unless we're talking fish sticks, and even then I'd lean toward tartar sauce. Hmm. Tartar sauce might work as a topping for these things, too.

If you like the taste of shrimp, and you wouldn't mind trying it in a chicken patty-esque, puck-like format, then snag a box on your next TJ's run. 

Four burgers for $6.99. Four stars a piece on this one.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Jalapeño Pieces

 Another day, another quick hit. That's just how it rolls right now with my ever growing family as the world continues to reawaken. 

But no time for the details on all that. You want a real quick hit? Grab a shortie of Trader Joe's Crispy Jalapeño Pieces next time you see them. They're either $1.99 or $2.99...don't remember...doesn't matter. 

Crispy. Crunchy, A touch greasy. Fleshy. Spicy. A wee salty, And perfection. It was love at first sight. There's no way this go wrong, unless you're one of the odd types who wouldn't enjoy something like this. Grab a handful and place on whatever you're eating. Burger? Taco? Pizza? Salad? Eggs? Soup? Sandwich? Mashed potatoes? Mac n cheese? Heck, probably even ice cream? Yes, to all of those, and more. 

There's nothing magical or mystical here. It's just thin slices of jalapeño battered lightly and fried (presumably) into an irresistably crunchy topping. Or, let's be honest...snack. I ate nearly 2/3rds of a cannister all by myself, and stopped only because I didn't want my wife's ire to consume me while enjoying chili later on that night. These are amazing. 

My only critique? There were too few "big pieces" of pepper. Those pieces are the best, when your teeth cut thru the crispy shell and sink into that mildly spicy, fleshy jalapeño....man, I'm making myself hungry again. Love 'em, need more of 'em. There were quite a few middle sized guys and naturally a handful of empty fried crumbs. Those are all tasty as well...but we're here for the big tasty jalapeños. 

Get 'em, you won't regret 'em. Pair nicely with a hoppy IPA.  Delish, and darn near perfect. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Jalapeño Pieces: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pulled Jackfruit in Smoky BBQ Sauce

Though mainly carnivorous in nature, in all honesty, a little vegan meat substitution here and there doesn't bother me. Need proof? All the things TJ's sells, it was none other than the original TJ's soy chorizo that got me interested in helping jumpstart this here fine blog over ten years ago. Think I'm long, wordy, pointless, and all that now? Ha! You have no idea how lucky you kids are these days. 

That being said, I've been meaning to and wanting to try out Trader Joe's Pulled Jackfruit in Smoky BBQ Sauce for quite some time. Love pulled pork, but it doesn't always love me the same way back. I've heard rumors that jackfruit easily emulates all that pulled pork can offer, and well, here's an easy chance to draw my own conclusion at the expense of $1.99 and a minute in the microwave. 

Surprisingly, to a newbie like me, decent. Take a look at my product pic. It definitely looks the part, right? Saucy, stringly, a little chunky. At first glance I thought maybe onions were involved, but the ingredients make no mention of them, so i presume it's all jackfruit and sauce. 

The bite is definitely softer than even slow-and-low smoked pulled prok, and not as stringy either. I miss that little bite, but not the little bits that inevitably get stuck in my teeth, so there's that. There was a small plastic-y square in mine - not sure if actual part of package made it's way in, a foreign intruder at the packing plant, or just a pretty not-so-great part of jackfruit. Cast aside without much drama and worries.  Everything else was great - small strands, bigger chunks with more "meat" to them - but no bark though. Oh well. 

The fruit itself is mild, without much flavor by itself. That works because that really helps take on the flavor of the sauce...and man. this BBQ Sauce is pretty legit. Thick, a touch sweet, tangy, with a upper medium kick - it's definitely Kansas City, the American classic, style. I wouldn't say "smoky" quite as much but the little touch that's there iss okay - if liquid smoke were added for the kill shotit'd be an absolutely no go for me. Hate that junk. As it was, that BBQ sauce was finger-lickin' good.

In all it was definitely a decent lunch. I ate mine plain in a bowl, but I think it'd go well over rice. In a sandwich, with a sturdy roll, I feel the texture of the carbs would heavily outweigh the bite of the fruit, so all would be tasted and sensed would be sauce. For the cost and convenience I'll absolutely buy again without a dount. My lovely bride opted for something else for lunch, but I was happy to nosh down the entire package myself as not much of a stomach stretcher. Without going into detail, I'm having some mild digestive issues which I can only really attribute to the jackfruit, but it's nothing too troublesome. Tasty, tasty, tasty, and pretty darn good. Here's another fake meat win for you, TJ's!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pulled Jackfruit in Smoky BBQ Sauce: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons. 

Trader Joe's Crispy Onion Chips

I never really got Funyuns.

Considering how much I love the taste of onions, I'm just never in the mood to have oily corn meal rings that vaguely taste like the popular root vegetable. I mean, they're not terrible. I just always wondered why they couldn't have some actual onion bits in them. 

Sure, they're optimized for sitting in unrefrigerated vending machines for weeks or months at a time, which wouldn't work with real onion pieces. But what if the onion pieces were dehydrated? Hmm. Then we might have a real winner.

And what if, furthermore, there was no cornmeal at all and the only ingredients were "onions, rice bran oil, and salt"? Well, then, my friends, you would have these: Trader Joe's Crispy Onion Chips.

I'm not saying everybody will enjoy these unique chips as much as I do. In fact, I'd be shocked if many people are with me on this one. The chips flaunt a texture not unlike that of styrofoam. Crispy? Yes, but they melt in your mouth in the most delightful and unexpected way.

The natural flavor of onions is on full display here. They almost taste like a rice-based snack, dusted with some complex array of garlicky additives and exotic seasonings. There's even something buttery about them. But all that's there is onion, salt, and oil. Amazing, really. 

If you don't have a weird affinity for onions like Sonia and I do, you might not be as enthused. But for all onion-lovers, I'd say these are worth at least one purchase. $2.69 for the 1.4 oz bag. It says it's one serving, but even Sonia and I managed to stretch it to multiple sittings. If you eat this whole bag all at once, then dang, I guess you must really, really like onions.

Four and a half stars from me. Four and a half from the wifey.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chips in a Pickle

Can you believe it's been over five years since Trader Joe's debuted their Popcorn in a Pickle? Makes you wonder what took them so long to put the same flavor on a chip. 

Also makes you wonder why we don't capitalize the "i" in "in" in this product title. I just used the word "in" three times in a row in a grammatically-correct sentence. Didn't set out to do that. But it happened. By that same token, why don't we capitalize the "b" in "but" in "Everything but the Bagel"? What style guide are we following here, Trader Joe? AP? Chicago? MLA? Meh, I'm getting off track here.

Where were we? Ah yes, the summer of '15. We'd just had a privacy fence installed around our property in South Jersey and were doing a lot of backyard camping. The world felt young and innocent and the birds in the trees chirped loudly for a sample of our pickle-flavored popcorn. These days the world feels tired and clownish and the birds in the backyard chirp loudly for a taste of our pickle-flavored potato chips. There's just no going back to the life we knew before.

But that's okay, because these are super tasty chips. I like them just a tad more than their corny counterparts. Sonia likes them just a tad less than the popcorn. Make no mistake, we both like the chips a good bit.

They went with kettle-cooked dark russet potatoes here. At first I was thinking maybe a lighter breed of potato might have allowed the dill pickle flavors to shine a little more, but honestly, this version works pretty well. The potatoes bring a good bit of flavor of their own, but it's balanced out by the taste of vinegar and dill.

I mentioned that I couldn't eat a ton of the pickle popcorn because I'd brine out pretty fast. These potato chips are chock full of sea salt, but I don't feel the need to stop eating after just a few. I want to keep shoveling them in my mouth. They're addictive. They flaunt the same sour vibe as a salt & vinegar chip, but the vinegar's not as intense, and there's onion and cane sugar and a few other ingredients that temper the vinegariness in this product.

As an aside, this isn't the first time TJ's has done a pickle potato chip, although those other ones were spicy, and these are not. I'm not sure if this will be a staple in our pantry all the time, but a repeat purchase or two will probably occur. $2.29 for the 6oz, 6 serving bag. Four stars from Sonia. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cocoa Chile Spiced Pecans

Up until the age of 5 or so, I lived less than a block from famous Cocoa Avenue in Hershey, PA, walking distance from Hersheypark. The whole town smelled like cocoa, mostly from a cocoa bean mulch that everybody used in their gardens, but also because of the nearby chocolate factory. Being married to a Latina, I've tried all kinds of things slathered with chile powder or cayenne pepper that I probably wouldn't have otherwise—corn on the cob, mango, pineapple, papaya, hard candy, you name it—just about everything but pecans. So this product should be right up my alley, right? Leave it to Trader José to introduce...whoops! Didn't mean to offend anybody! Leave it to Trader Joe to introduce me to Cocoa Chile Pecans.

These pecans aren't as sticky sweet as I thought they might be. They are "candied" as noted on the bag, but not overly so. I think if they had been much sweeter, the chile wouldn't have shined through quite as much. The cocoa flavor is similar to a rich, earthy dark chocolate. It's not nearly as candy-esque as a typical chocolate coated nut.

The spice level is decent. There's not much kick up front, but it's one of those heats that creeps up on you at the finish. It builds up on your tongue as you gobble pecan after pecan. I'd say the cocoa is more prevalent initially, and it slowly gives way to a warm, throat-tingling cayenne pepper essence. There's also cinnamon listed in the ingredients, but it's barely detectable as an independent flavor by my estimation.

There's a little bit of a cough factor. That is, there's enough cocoa powder, chile powder, and powdered sugar that if I inhale at exactly the wrong moment—probably somewhere between the nut entering my mouth and getting it chomped down a good bit by my teeth—I have to hack a minimal amount of said powders out of my lungs. The cayenne pepper is particularly troubling to my respiratory system. Spice in the lungs is no joke, but I must admit, there's something invigorating about chile pepper in the old alveoli. That would make a great band name. "We are The Spicy Alveoli and we're here to rock!" 

$4.49 isn't super cheap for a product like this, but I can't say it isn't worth the price tag, either.  As long as you aren't hoping for something sticky sweet and don't mind the spice, these are worth a purchase if you ask us. Three and a half stars from yours truly. Cuatro estrellas de mi Sonita.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.