Trader Joe's Organic French Roast Cold Brew Coffee Concentrate

It's freakin' June already. Which is fine, I guess. June is good enough of a month. One of the highlights of June (other than no longer being subjected to Alexander Ovechkin's ugly mug since his season is long done, as is usual by now) is <insert drumroll effect>...it's officially iced coffee season!

When it's hot, hot coffee just makes it stickier than it has to be. But you can't just give up coffee. And please...iced coffee is not just regular coffee with ice in it. I've tried doing that, and the results are diluted murky brown tepid water. Nah, you gotta go cold brew to do this properly. Some people, by the wizardry of either French presses or cheesecloths, claim it's simple to make your own cold brew batches. Others, like me, think it's easier to shell out $3 or $4 for a large cupful. That obviously gets spendy quickly. So, for the MYO-inept crowd who would to enjoy some cold caffeine while saving a couple bucks, things like Trader Joe's Organic French Roast Cold Brew Coffee Concentrate seem like a good enough of a deal. $9.99 seems like an okay enough price to swallow for at least eight cups, right?

What's not easy to swallow: if you get the proportions wrong. Sandy preferred to mix her coffee in with some almond milk "beverage" (as pictured - as a bonus you can watch it swirl around!) while I did mine straight up with water. Either liquid worked fine, but if the ratio was even the smidgiest of smidges off the 2:1 balance of liquid base to coffee concentrate...ugh. Either it tasted a watery mess if too weak, or like motor oil if too strong. Speaking of motor oil: Don't bother taking a sip of it straight on. I tried in the name of science. It was a bad idea. The bottle says there's over half a pound of beans used in making this...yeah, it definitely tastes like that. Woo.

Other than that: Yes. I haven't tried TJ's other cold brew concoction to make a direct comparision, but as would be expected for French roast, this is a darker, heavier, fairly robust roast. In some ways, this is a great thing for iced coffee, because the stronger potency would withstand the inevitable ice meltoff a little better. I'm pretty happy drinking it black, while Sandy was happy enough with the taste that I think she skipped adding any sugar to hers....she may have snuck in some flavored creamer though (ugh).

Sandy and I were able to get plenty enough cups out of it to make our ten buck investment seem just about worth it. Sadly, there was a cup or two we ended up dumping and redoing, because of measurements being a little off, and by trying to fix things, we somehow made them even worse. That's really the only demerit here - if there could be somehow just be a little more built-in grace, that'd be great. Also, we're really not sure why it costs an extra $2 over its lighter, more normal counterpart...eh well. Different roast, and organic, sure, but still.

Enjoy an icy glass as the summer starts up. Or try it Ovechkin-style - no cup. In any case, this cold caffeinited concentrated concoction could be your summer sipper of choice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic French Roast Cold Brew Coffee Concentrate: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Parsnip Chips

Some of you may remember our little discussion about these chips from a podcast episode back in February. We discovered that, according to a local TJ's manager, they were only selling these chips on the west coast. So Sonia and I took a little road trip this past weekend...

Actually, no. We just found these guys at the Marlton Trader Joe's store. We were super excited. Apparently they do sell them on the east coast now. So to continue our streak of interesting root vegetable products featuring beets, jicama, and now parsnips, let's take a look at these unusual chips.

In appearance and texture, they're not unlike sweet potato chips I've tried. They're not quite as yellow/orange as that, though. I'd say they're a tad more pale, but there is an amber hue to them. 

They're definitely salty, but they're also much sweeter than I expected them to be. Maybe it's because I haven't had a plate of parsnips in a while, but I didn't think I'd be getting much natural sugariness at all. I checked the ingredients for some kind of sweetener. Nope. Just parsnips, oil, and salt. So...parsnips are naturally sweet. Who knew? (Most of our readers, probably.) But this foodie-hack sure didn't. It also says so on the back of the bag, but I rarely read those things before wolfing down a good portion of the product first.

They're beautifully crunchy and firm and just slightly oily and salty to the touch. There's just the tiniest hint of leatheriness, for lack of a better term. It's not at all unpleasant, though. If anything, the consistency of these parsnip chips is more pleasant than regular potato chips. 

Flavor-wise, they're somewhere in between sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, carrots, and bananas—there's also a distinct similarity to plantain chips. There's a subtle earthiness involved, but it's mostly just a salty, sweet, delightfully snackable taste.

Four stars a piece from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chile Lime Seasoning Blend

Chile and lime....together at last!

Oh, that is a bold-faced lie. Chili and lime have been together for years. If not married, they're certainly common-law at this point. I have at least two other containers of limeified chili powder in my pantry, somewhere (I wouldn't be surprised if it were more like four or five)...but when Trader Joe's comes out with a Chile Lime Seasoning Blend, well, we're gonna try it out, cuz that's what we do.

Glad we did...because this blend is different. Most other similar shakers I've had seem to be more along the lines of semi-citrusy seasoned salt. Not here. Really, the dominant flavor is lime...which is a refreshing change up from the norm. It's boldly lime, where lime has never gone before in powdered form. it's remarkable, really. Oh, there's enough heat from the chile coming through, but nothing terribly offensive - it's just enough to make it's presence known. This particular blend also purports itself to be lower in salt than most of it's brethren, which I'd say is probably fairly truthy. But in the end, it's really the lime that's the star of the show here.

Grilled chicken. Fish. Corn on the cob. Veggies. Tofu. Tacos. Salad. Much better on the mango jicama slaw than the dressing the slaw came with. Really, what can't this go on? Well, chocolate ice cream...maybe. Great little pick up for only $1.99. Thumbs up all round from the Shelly clan.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chile Lime Seasoning Blend: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw

Ugh. Beets. All that talk from the South Jersey Rodgers Family department of the blog has got me sick. I hate beets. Just....no. Beets are one of very few things I will not place into my mouth on purpose. Some people say beets taste like dirt; I say they literally taste a lot like something that can look like dirt but is far more foul. But...beet juice? Dehydrated beet chips? No. No. Hellz no. I don't care about Nathan's ambivalence towards them - I can't imagine even being friendly with them. If I saw a beet walking down the street, I'd cross to other side. Just thinking about them makes my stomach churn...

...so maybe I need me some jicama. That's what you can use with an upset stomach, right? Not sure what jicama really is? You can read about it straight up here...

...or stop by your local TJ's for a tub of the brand new Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw. It'll set you back five bucks, which is maybe a tick high if just looking at cost of base ingredients - a couple handfuls of jicama, cabbage, mango with a smattering of cilantro - but at least it's all made and ready to go in the refrigerated section near produce.

And it's worth it, too. We somehow neglected to take a pic of it, but the 12 ounces made one very healhty bowlful size which Sandy, a friend of ours, and I were able to get several helpings out of each. The slaw is very fresh, crispy and juicy, with the shredded jicama and cabbage kinda blending somewhat together into one flavor. I'm sure if I paid a little more attention I could have picked up on it a little bit more, but regardless, the two of them serve as an excellent platform for the other flavors, notably the sweet, tropical mango and all that herby cilantro. There's a smidge too much cilantro, in my opinion, as it kinda took over some bites, but in all, this is a very fresh, simple, clean tasting summer slaw.

There's also a dressing packet included with what's called a "lime mango vinaigrette" though it's this kinda weird orangey glop. As with anytime a dressing is involved, I'll make it known I'm not a huge salad dressing guy. And it only kinda works here. I'll pin it on the vinegar here - really, between lime, mango, and some kick from crushed red peppers, a decently strong vinegar flavor is not the one I wish to taste. Seems like because of the vinegar, at times the dressing seemed a little spicier than it actually was. The dressing just interfered too much with an otherwise simple, natural flavor vibe. A squeeze or two of lime, or a sprinkle of chili powder would have been perfect (or a little of both), but altogether as it was, the dressing was just too much and we both preferred our slaw without it.

Otherwise, an absolute winner in our book. I'm feeling inspired by this slaw to try and make my own - better sharpen them kitchen knives, I guess. But for the convenience, and something a little different to go alongside (or on top of) some grilled chicken or fish, or for a little cookout side, it's not a bad deal. Sandy's main complaint is also the dressing - really, with something a little better, we could be talking pantheon here - but we're just going to have to settle for being really, really good.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango Jicama Slaw: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade

Please pardon the huge chunk of Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade missing out of the jar in the picture over there. I was hoping that the festive orangey glow of my sub-chair rail kitchen glow that the previous house owners so nicely left for us would help disguise the fact that this wasn't a full container, but no luck.

Actually, no, I am pretty lucky. Got a wife and two kids who love every Thursday to come visit me at work for lunch. Granted, the littlest ones just might be more excited for the cookies from the work cafe, or walking thru our indoor arboretum, but I'll take it. Along with the usual lunch they'll bring him - hot cup of coffee, some veggies and fruit, and PB&J. My older one, M (not quite four years old) loves making them almost as much as she loves eating them, so it's what she does. It's what we do. Even (and perhaps especially) on weeks where we haven't had the chance to hit up TJ's, like this week...hence the partially used jar of orange marmalade.

The kids don't like the TJ's marmalade. I don't blame them - it's a surprisingly sophisticated taste. Most orange marmalades I have tried focus on the super citrusy or super sugary or the thin line between the two...not this one. It's a deeper, stronger flavor than that. And, in comparative terms, it's bitter as well - not as in actually bitter (sugar is the first ingredient, after all), but it's fairly mature and won't leave you scurrying for a toothbrush afterwards.

There's that certain marmalade texture as well - stiffer than regular jelly, more preserves like, with a fair amount of orange peel shredded up and stuck in there. How did that ever become a thing? It's not like grapevines get chopped up and stuck in grape jelly...well, not on piurpose, I hope, at least. Somehow thru the magic of delectable fruit, incorporating what ought to be the disposable wrapper into the actual product works fairly well for marmalade in general, and for this TJ's one in particular.

Sandy and I have been to Seville on a day trip during our Portuguese honeymoon...well, that makes us sound like fancy folk. We're not. We may have seen plenty of Seville orange trees, but never partook of their fruit, so I cannot ascertain the taste accuracy...so we'll both settle for just enjoying the marmalade. Tasty on toast, scrumptious on scones, perfect for PB&Js - worth the pick up for sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seville Orange Marmalade: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Marshmallows

Ever since we got a fire pit for our backyard last summer, I've eaten more marshmallows than I have since I was about thirteen years old. It's not even that I like marshmallows that much—it's just that when you have a fire going, that's what you do. You roast marshmallows. And I must admit, when you get those beautifully golden-brown specimens, it's totally worth it. I do like the taste and texture of a perfectly fire-toasted marshmallow—although I'm not particularly skilled at it myself (see pic below). And who doesn't like s'mores?

With Trader Joe's offering, you're not eating a bunch of unpronounceable chemicals. I mean, we've all heard some scary things about carrageenan—and I'm not sure why they slipped something like that in this otherwise "healthy" marshmallow—but I'll take tapioca syrup and cane sugar over corn syrup and dextrose any day of the week. And indeed, they do taste better than traditional marshmallows, too, at least in my humble opinion.

Sonia thinks they taste more "sugary" than, say, Kraft marshmallows. I see where she's coming from. Especially raw, it almost feels like you can detect the cane sugar granules as you chew them. The tapioca gives them a very unique mouthfeel as well. Just think of a really tasty bowl of evaporated tapioca with a bunch of cane sugar to add sweetness, then congealed in a marshmallow shape.

Sonia and I had some at our little camping excursion this past weekend. (It's still "camping," even if it is in our own backyard...right?) I'd say they taste more like traditional marshmallows after they've been toasted—that is, it would be much harder to distinguish the Trader Joe's marshmallow and the traditional marshmallow in a blind taste-test if both specimens were toasted. I'm pretty sure I could do it if they were both raw.

I didn't feel like they puffed up as much as normal marshmallows on the fire. They browned around the edges okay, they got nice and soft, and they had that traditional yummy goo in the center, but they more or less maintained their original dimensions even after heating. 

Raw, toasted, or in a s'more, these guys deliver. Sonia and I both think that, as marshmallows go, these are among the best we've tried. With a long summer of campfires ahead, we'll undoubtedly buy more in the near future. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gyro Slices

Yes, they exist.

No, I'm not talking about cell phone batteries that don't die every five minutes, pens that don't stop writing with only half the ink used, or a Justin Bieber song that doesn't suck. It's a not that good of a world out there. But at least we do have Chuck Norris-approved roundhouse kicking jeans. Listen, with those hidden gussets not binding your legs, you got some full leg-swinging freedom there, partner.

Nope, I am talking about Trader Joe's Gyro Slices. They do exist. I know, because I just had them for dinner. But if you're searching the shelves for them, good luck...much like their distantly related riced cauliflower cousin, you're much more likely to spot that Bieber character in your local TJ's than this particular meat package. It's that popular with demand that far underestimated that warehouses are out, so get yourself on the waitlist, and if you see any, stock up and sell on eBay.

Are the gyros worth the hype, though? Ehhhh...debatable. Don't get me wrong - I enjoy gyros at local Greek food festivals just as much as anyone reasonably can, so I was pretty hyped up as well. But the TJ gyro slices just aren't quite as good as those - close, but not quite.

The reason? Possibly ignorance, probably perception bias. But I've always thought that the meat in gyros at the food festivals was lamb, or at least mostly lamb. Now, there's lamb in these guys too...listed as the last ingredient before the "Contains 2% or less of the following" part of the credits. So, there just might be as little as 3% lamb we're talking about here...probably more than that, but undoubtedly more beef than lamb. As a result, I swear these taste more beefy than other gyro meat, which kinda comes off as vaguely Steak-Umm-esque, but how accurate that is debatable at best.

That sounded like an insult. I didn't mean it that way. In every other regard these seem spot on, with the breadcrumbs adding the right mealy-meaty feel, and spiced appropriately with the pepper and garlic and whatnot. And I'd be danged if altogether both Sandy and I didn't enjoy a good made-at-home gyro that we'd be more than eager to do again, all for the fraction of the price of gyros out. It helped that when all the sandwich components were together, the perceived beefiness became a lot less noticeable.

For the requisite "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" reference, I won't vouch these are entirely authentic, but will say spraying Windex at them will certainly not make an improvement. If you see 'em, snag 'em. Double fours.

Trader Joe's French Market Sparkling Limeade

Just look at the aesthetics of this bottle. Simple. Beautiful. And curvy—like a sexy woman.

Speaking of sexy women, Sonia really likes this stuff. She thinks it's reminiscent of Orangina, but lime flavored. I'd put it more in the same category as Wink, Squirt, or Fresca—but you get the idea with Orangina, too. Plus, unlike those other lightly-carbonated, citric acid-laden beverages, there's no high fructose corn syrup, brominated vegetable oil, or aspartame-type nonsense here—which is always good. 

We had some leftover tequila from last week's Cinco de Mayo celebration, so this past weekend, we tried it with this limeade as a sort of makeshift margarita. It worked okay, although not quite as well as Trader Joe's Margarita Mixer. We both agree this limeade is better without tequila. But we had it with tequila anyway. Maybe it's because we were a little goofy, but we turned on Netflix and laughed our heads off at what is undoubtedly the funniest Trader Joe's-themed stand-up bit ever.

But back to the beverage. Taste-wise, the lime flavor is there, but subtle. The citrusy essence is at least as strong as the lime, as far as my taste buds could tell. There's a bit of an acidic aftertaste, too, which I'm not a huge fan of, but it's not overwhelming. There's also the faintest hint of a syrupy sensation on the tongue, but for the most part, it's nice and "dry." 

Furthermore, the carbonation level is about perfect for this type of soda. It might be my imagination, but it feels like the bubbles are tinier here than in, say, a can of Coke or Pepsi, but there seem to be more of them, if that makes sense. It's a more pleasant sensation, in my opinion. Overall, it's a very light and refreshing beverage that works well on the rocks—a nice treat for those hot summer days lurking right around the corner.

Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Peaberry Coffee Beans

The whole chocolate-covered espresso bean/coffee bean thing is growing on me. Bite-sized blasts of earthy cocoa, sugar, and caffeine were never my go-to pick-me-up, but even non-coffee drinkers like me have to admit, there's a lot of good stuff going on here.

I've had quite a few different brands and varieties of this sort of snack, but this is probably the best one I've tried so far. Sonia agrees, and she's far more into coffee and its derivative products than I am. There's a delightful depth to the taste of these beans that blends seamlessly with the bittersweet chocolate. Everything from the crunch of the beans to the texture of the coating is on-point and amazing. 

When I walk into a coffee shop, I always smell the enticing aromas of roasting beans and steaming milk, but when I purchase that rare cup of coffee or espresso, I'm almost always let down. Even with the best blends, I always feel like the taste of coffee can't compete with its fantastic fragrance. Not here. These beans taste like that coffee shop smells: sweet, rich, robust, and downright delicious.

The biggest drawback to these peaberry beans is the inevitable urge to eat way more than you should in one sitting—not just for the calorie count, but also because you'll be buzzing and bouncing well into the night. If you want to play a really mean trick on someone, give them a tub of these treats right before bedtime and watch them try to eat just one.

Sonia will go with four and a half stars for these comestible coffee beans. I'm still not the biggest coffee bean backer or dark chocolate devotee in the world, but I can't go with less than four here.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Spring Rolls

Although not quite as traditionally 'Murican as chicken soup or chicken pot pie, these chicken spring rolls are new to TJ's and review-worthy, so let's take a brief look, shall we?

The flour wrapper comes out nice and crispy when cooked according to the instructions. And I did. Aren't you proud of me that I didn't try to use the microwave? 

The filling is a nice soft blend of chicken, cabbage, and seasonings, with a detectable amount of sweetness, too. I've had spring rolls and egg rolls before, and I've never noticed anything sweet in the appetizer itself—perhaps in a paired dipping sauce, but not in the roll. Perusing the ingredients, I noted "sugar" right there in between green onion and basil. Interesting. Don't get me wrong, it's not excessively sweet by any means. Overall, the flavor is savory, salty, and somewhat successful, in my opinion.

Also, wouldn't these be egg rolls? After a brief Google research session, the main qualifications I found for something to be a spring roll were "not (usually) fried," "with no chicken or meat," and "with a thin translucent or transparent rice wrapper," none of which apply to these happy little snacks. 

And before someone scolds me for not knowing that all spring rolls have sugar in them or the reason why these are spring rolls and not egg rolls, let me remind you that I'm the dude that just asked you to praise me for using the stove top instead of the microwave a couple paragraphs ago. I'm not exactly a gourmet cooking authority.

But if you want my opinion on these rolls, I say they're teetering on the brink of "not bad" and "really darn good." Three and a half stars from me. Four stars from Sonia will push this in the direction of "really darn good." Her only complaint is that they don't come with a dipping sauce.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Kettle Cooked Chicken Soup

I'd say "just like Mom used to make," except my mom never did much cooking due to chronic illness. Incidentally, the date I'm composing this blog post is the one year anniversary of my mother's memorial service. 

I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer, but the past couple weeks have been one of those stretches in life that calls for some home-cooked (or at least home-cooked-esque) chicken soup for the body as well as the kind for the soul—just in time for my annual spring cold, too. We bought this soup before my little bug set in, and it's almost like my body got sick on purpose just so it could be soothed by this kettle-cooked container of chicken cheer.

I'm not sure about the logic of using a plastic tub for this product, as opposed to a can or a glass jar of some kind. I'm not complaining. It just seems unusual to me, especially since they're going for that home-cooked angle. At any rate, it's unique. As you open the packaging, little globs of chicken stock stick to the plastic safety seal under the lid in a rather unappetizing way. But once you get past that, what lies beneath seems much more inviting.

At first glance, the soup looks nice and chunky. There are decent-sized pieces of both white and dark meat chicken—and not like weird disc-shaped pieces or perfect cubes either, as one may find in other "chunky" soups. These little angular pieces of chicken look like shapes that might have actually been carved by human hands. Or maybe TJ's is employing robots that can realistically imitate the beautifully imperfect slashes and slices you might find in a cauldron of homemade soup. Either way, I like it. Also, there are plenty of carrot, parsnip, celery, and onion bits, too—with an emphasis on the carrots.

The broth is nice and sea-salty, but not overly so. It's flavorful, and it blends well with the other ingredients, although it could almost stand alone as a soup just by itself. A delicate medley of herbs, including garlic, parsley, pepper, thyme, and bay leaves, rounds out the taste of this impressive down-home delicacy. I wouldn't have minded a little more chicken in the soup, but honestly, compared to any other chicken soup I've ever had, this product delivers at least as much of the palatable poultry. So no complaints here. Four and a half stars from me. Four and a half from Sonia, who adds, "This is like really good deli soup." She's not wrong.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits

Being an adult is great. I mean, aside from bills and responsibilities and stuff. But otherwise, it's a pretty good deal. You get to whatever you want whenever you want, and in a childhood dream come true for me, you can eat whatever you want when you want. Want to eat three breakfasts a day? Go for it. Pizza for breakfast, tacos for lunch, ice cream for dinner? Why not? I mean, your cardiologist may disagree, and it'd be prudent to mix in a salad, but that's not what I mean. I mean: you can do that if you want to. No one can stop you. That, to me, is awesome.

So, conceivably, you can have cookies for breakfast. But maybe to feel better about it, we can call them something else. The little lies we tell ourselves to get through, I guess, or maybe, if we're spotted crushing cookies down the cram hole by the stray child , we can say, "Oh these aren't cookies. These are Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits."

Yup. "Biscuits" is what they're going with here. Bwahahaha. No way. These things are cookies through and through. I mean, they're even sold right alongside all the other cookies, and not in the energy/breakfast bar area.

These cookies biscuits  morning-minded munchers are pretty tasty, though. For its basic concept, think of a more granular oblong graham cracker, and thant's fairly close in both taste and texture. There's a little something extra, though, and it's not the blueberries. Vaguely familiar, tip of tongue, couldn't quite place it till scanning the ingredients - rye flakes. There's a pretty hefty dose - not enough to be offensive or anything, but it definitely adds a blueberr-rye dimension. The berries themselves are of the typical dried variety, and intermittently and unevenly sprinkled through out - some wafers were sans berries, others where blue enough from berries to look almost like a flattened Smurf.

As you can probably see, these are some fragile biscuits too. I did nothing to those pictured except the normal rigors of a morning commute to my desk, and I got left with a pile of pieces. So, they're probably not the best for on the go, like while driving, unless you don't mind brushing a dusting of vaguely greasy crumbs off your shirt.

And don't count on them for a full breakfast. A good morning snack, or part of a healthy breakfast, with some yogurt perhaps? Sure. The biscuits were a welcome addition to my usual apple and coffee workweek breakfast, but despite all that fiber, I was still hungry for lunch not all that much later than usual.

Anyways, the wife and both like them, as do our kiddos when we let them have a munch. Save the morning cookies for the adults, kids. For only about $3 or $4 for a fivepack each with four in there, it's not a bad deal, either. These aren't my favorite things ever, but they're good enough to warrant a repeat purchase already, and I'd love to see these expanded into different flavors..like, say, cherry? Sounds delish to me. Matching 3.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Breakfast Biscuits: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Chia Bar

Compacted trash? LOL. I can see where Marvo is coming from, but I don't think these look that bad. They're just a bunch of smooshed-together ingredients, crushed into a bar shape, similar to the fruit + fruit bars we've seen in the past—except these have lots of seeds and nuts, not just fruits.

Texture-wise, they're exactly what you'd expect: a granola-esque, chewy vibe, with a little extra grittiness from the chia seeds. They're not tough in any way, but neither are they smooth. The dried fruit serves as a virtual "glue" binding the other ingredients together with its natural stickiness. I mean, I guess the organic syrups help in that department, too. There's plenty of sticky stuff holding these bars together—they're definitely not going to fall apart in your hands, yet they're not super sticky to the touch, either. All in all, they feel pretty pleasant, particularly if you're into granola bars.

And they're shockingly tasty. I'm still not even sure where all that flavor's coming from. There are a lot of "healthy" sugars and sweeteners in there: organic brown rice syrup, organic agave syrup, and organic cane sugar. For someone with a sweet tooth like me, these bars hit the spot pretty well, despite having a bunch of hippie ingredients tossed into the mix. And don't get me wrong, I like most hippie ingredients just fine, but coming from a generation that grew up thinking of chia as nothing more than the "fur" on a weird, ceramic animal you'd put in your kitchen windowsill, it's still a bit strange to be eating snacks with chia seeds as the main attraction. But interestingly enough, the chia pet people have joined the club and are now marketing chia as something healthy to eat, as well as the head of spiky green hair on a ceramic SpongeBob SquarePants.

My main complaint about these is that they're a little on the small side. Granted, they're extraordinarily filling for their size, but I still wouldn't have minded a bit more material per bar. Four stars from me. Four from Sonia, who thinks that the texture is a little weird, but loved the flavor so much, she almost went with four and a half.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Jam

Meringue and hockey? That sounds soo...I don't know...sophisticated and international and all. That might be Nathan and Sonia, but that's not me at all. Meringue pies are okay and all, as is hockey...but they just don't get me going. I'll take their word that the lemon tart is as good as advertised, and you two enjoy your hockey, though them being Capitals fans, and me in Pittsburgh, I just have to ask those Ovechkin lovers a little question.

Here, in the city of Andrew McCutchen's sweet swing, Gregory Polanco's galloping strides, and the questionable locks of John Jaso...we're bacon people. Bacon and baseball. 'Murica. Land of the free and home of the brave (and heck with you, Braves fans).

Since its debut about a week or so ago, Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Jam is getting pretty Internet famous. I've seen the buzz at fever pitch on a lot of different social media pages all proclaiming love for these porky preserves, and as a bacon addict service to you all, I knew I had to try it for myself.

I'll admit, the visual introduction is kinda, well...take a look. It's bacon in spreadable form - what else can be expected? Good thing it can be easily concealed inside, say, a grilled cheese with smoked gouda, which is exactly how Sandy and I partook for the first time.

Imagine really good pulled pork. That's approximately how this jar o' jam tastes. Except..it's bacony bits instead of porky strands. The bacon chunks don't terribly stand out and instead get a little lost in the sauce, which is my only minor complaint. If I'm eating bacon, I want to know it's there. So, in short, it's heavy on the barbecue sauce aspects, which makes a nice change-up from other bacon jams I've had which were heavy on the bacon flavor. There's some tang and a small smidge of inoffensive heat, with a little smoke...and "vegetarian flavor."

Yes. You read that right. There's "vegetarian flavor" in this here bacon jam. I really have no idea what that means - I mean, like, flavored with/by vegetarians? Were the pigs fed an all-veggie diet? What if one of them ate a bug? Are there...*gasp*....vegetables  potentially diluting my perfectly good bacon?

Silliness aside, this made our grilled cheeses an extra-delish lunch, and I'd imagine this pairing well on a burger, or with chicken, or in other sandwiches...but not a PB&J. Sandy and I, umm, tried that as a joke, and it wasn't too great then.

It's $4.49 for the jar, so if this seems like it might be your kinda thing, trust me, it is. It's bacon. God bless America.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Jam: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Jacques' Lemon Meringue Tarte

To me, few things in life are as exciting as the start of the NHL playoffs. (Go Caps!) But new lemon-flavored TJ's products just might be on that short list—because the store has an excellent track record in that department. And as is the case with professional ice hockey, you're bound to run into a French name or two in the world of TJ's fine desserts. Bonjour, Jacques!

There's a layer of sweet and sour lemony goodness right at the heart of this pastry. It's tart and tangy and has pretty much everything lemonophiles are looking for. The crust is buttery and thin and adds a bit of firmness to the otherwise airy dessert. It's so good, if anything, I wish there were more of it.

In the past, Sonia has complained about meringue getting in the way of her enjoyment of similar pies and tartes on the basis that it's "too eggy." Not here. The meringue is a very neutral, lightly-sweet whipped topping—the literal icing on the cake...er, pie...er, tarte. Also, it's lightly toasted around the edges, as seen in the photo to the right.

Sonia also raved about the presentation of this product, pointing out the perfect little peaks of meringue all evenly-spaced on the top of the pie. Although, in our box, about a third of the meringue came off of the pie and stuck to the plastic lid when we removed it. It was simple enough to scrape it off and re-apply it to the tarte, but still should be noted in case you're buying this for the dessert table at some uber-formal event or something.

All in all, this is another lemony win for TJ's. It's definitely something Sonia and I could see ourselves purchasing again. $5.49 for four servings. Not super cheap, but worth it. Four and a half stars from Sonia, four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Cacao Nibs

Chocolate nerds.

That's a good way to describe these. But they're not sweet milk chocolate nerds. They're rich and dark. From the moment you open the bag, there's a heavy dark chocolatey, almost coffee-esque aroma that hits you. And they taste like that, too.

Sonia likes their crunchiness and is eager to try them in baked goods. She thinks they'd make a great additive to pancakes or muffins. I totally agree. They'd also make an excellent ice cream topping. I think they'd be perfect for making plain vanilla a little more exciting, but you chocoholics might want to try the whole chocolate on chocolate thing.

They're also good just straight out of the bag—maybe for a nice little shot of caffeine and sugar to top off your lunch. Resealable bag, $1.99. Many of you know I'm not really a dark chocolate guy, but I'll easily muster three and a half stars for this little novelty. Sonia will throw out four this time.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seafood Paella

Sonia has a few quirky allergies that come and go mysteriously. One is to mushrooms. Although, that particular sensitivity didn't apply when it came to the Portobello Mushroom Fries. Another one of her fun "come and go" allergies involves certain kinds of shellfish. Maybe. We've figured out she's okay with crab and lobster. But she usually plays it safe with things like clams, oysters, and scallops...except when my dad orders the fried oysters and she takes a couple bites. Maybe she's grown out of the allergy and maybe she's not as sensitive when the food is prepared a certain way. Who knows? But it took some convincing to get her to try this paella. She finally agreed, but only on the condition that I take all the mussels out of her portion.

That was just fine by me, because I really liked these mussels. They came out nice and soft, but not too chewy. The "calamares" were by far the chewiest ingredient in our bag. I've had squid before that was not this chewy, but really, it wasn't horrendous—just a tad more rubbery than I would have preferred. The rest of the textures were wonderful and blended together seamlessly.

South Jersey is full of fresh seafood, but I haven't seen many places around here that offer any kind of paella. In fact, the only other time in my life that I've had proper paella was in Spain. There was a quaint sidewalk cafe in Madrid where I tried this "national dish" of España. It was a while back, but honestly, I remember not being impressed. It was much soupier than Trader Joe's offering, the vegetables were stringy, and I felt it lacked flavor. They might have given me a bad batch on purpose, though. They didn't seem fond of non-Spanish speakers there. <Sigh.> Six and a half years into a marriage to someone whose first language is Spanish, and I'm still trying to learn it.

But back to the paella. It's good. It's complex, flavorful, and not-at-all-fishy. Seafoody? Yes. Fishy? No. I'm not sure how authentic it is, but I certainly prefer it to the only other paella I've ever had. Ironically, this selection is a "product of France," not Spain, according to the bag. Eh, close enough, I guess. Four stars from me. Three and a half from my better half.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Brand Pizza Crust

Pizza night! It's definitely a thing at our house. Probably yours too. Used to order takeout/delivery...but after a while, paying a premium for waiting 45 minutes for someone to deliver a mediocre lukewarm pie when your stomach is growling and kiddos are howling gets old. Time to make your own.

Well, you could go the old TJ's doughball route (not a bad one, we've done it plenty)...or make it even easier and a lot less messy with Trader Giotto's Brand Pizza Crust. This is our new go-to. They're prebaked and ready to top with whatever you fancy, and just a few minutes in the oven - BOOM. Pizza.

Now, there's other premade pizza crusts out there  - but these are the best I've had yet. The outer edges and corners get all crispy and crackery-crunchy while the middles maintain a lot of chewy breadiness. There's that light, pleasant carby flavor that carries through as well, although it doesn't shine through as much with red sauce. Sandy and I have made a white pizza with a little extra olive oil and garlic, with chicken and veggies on it on a few occasions, and the outcome is legitimate restaurant quality for a fraction of the price.

The two pack runs maybe $3 at the most and is definitely worth trying out for your next pizza night. Thumbs up all around our family.

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Brand Pizza Crust: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower

From my childhood, I have what my lovely bride interprets as a bad habit on major holidays: namely, not really eat anything until the big dinner itself. You see, it's not a bad strategy when "holiday dinner" is at about 1 p.m. or so, so skipping breakfast isn't that huge of a deal, and come meal time, you have plenty enough room in your belly to eat your fill, and to be too full for dinner. Totally works because that's how I grew up. But on her side of the family, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners and the like are more towards the evening (5 p.m. or so), making this strategery much tougher to employ. Not to say I haven't tried...but every holiday with a later big meal, I get the speech: "You're not going to starve yourself all day until dinner time! You're gonna eat something! Set a good example for the kids!" and so on.

And so it was this past weekend out here in the 'burgh. Easter dinner, our house, 5 p.m. Got home from church, she started launching it yet again...blahblahblah...yes dear, alright dear, I ran 5.5 miles that morning so kinda hungry anyways...

...and then she pulled out Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower from the freezer. Game, set, match. Stop twisting my arm already, this looks good!

As the name implies, what we have here is a bag of frozen lightly breaded cauliflower florets with some spicy kung pao sauce to stir them all around in. The camera somehow ate the picture we took of the finished product, but the picture on the bag is a more than apt depiction of the vibrant veggie vittles inside. Except...most of the blossoms are freaking huge. Ginormous, probably a whole serving itself. That's not entirely a bad thing, but they do present a textural variant that can be difficult to account for in preparation. Naturally, the stemmy sections retains more crunch and stiff fibrous feel, while the actual "trees" sections are kinda all over the place. Some were done roughly right, with a good bite, while others seemed smooshy and almost creamy due to being just way too soft. If they were smaller, I'd think it'd be easier to prepare them in a more even manner. It didn't inhabit us too much, but I could see it being a potential issue for some.

As for the sauce, I didn't care much for it straight up (yes, I tried it). It seemed a bit too cloyingly soy sauce-y, with a little tang of pineapple juice and a tickle of heat poking out.  However, once on the slightly crispy/greasy cauliflower, a lot of the soy tendencies mellowed out, while the spice amped itself a smidge. By the end of my bowlful, the heat definitely kicked up several notches from where it started. The breading itself is barely worth mention, except to say it was a fairly adequate medium between the sauce and veggie.

Overall, this particular Trader Ming's offering is a go...I'd feel slightly better recommending it if it cost $3.99 or so instead of $4.99...but chances are it'll be a repeat purchase for when the vaguely Asian food/don't feel like paying for takeout bug hits (which is often enough). Sandy offers up a four whereas I'll slide in a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Greek Yogurt Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

It could be the psychoactive opiates talking, but these muffins are really darn good. Lemontastic. And Greek yogurtastic, too. Alternatively, yogurrific, if you like.

Greek yogurt is taking over everything: spinach dips, guacamoles, and well...yogurts. That Greek yogurt is so hot right now. And with good reason. It usually tastes pretty good, it's relatively low in fat, and not least of all, it's being promoted by Uncle Jesse. But if history has taught us anything, it's that eventually the Greek yogurt empire will collapse and be replaced with...Roman yogurt, or something like that. So let's all enjoy this golden Greek yogurt renaissance while we can.

First of all, the Greek yogurt makes these things moist and dense. Creamy, almost. The texture is pretty amazing. These muffins really feel more like cupcakes because of the Greek yogurt. There are tons of poppy seeds, too, which add even more complexity to the already-pleasant mouthfeel.

Taste-wise, my first and only complaint is that they could be slightly more lemony. I love me some lemon. But there's still a decent amount of lemoniness—ahem, lemonosity, if you will—at least enough for normal folks and non-lemonophiles. Plus, you can taste Greek yogurt. It's that slightly sour, tangy taste you've come to know and love. In a way, I think the Greek yogurt flavor tones down the lemon flavor somehow, even though they're both sour-ish kinds of flavors. But don't worry, there's plenty of sweet, sweet cane sugar in there, too, to balance out all that tartness.

Among Sonia, her associates, myself, and a couple TJ's employees, we have yet to meet anyone who doesn't like these. But I'm sure some dissenting opinions are out there. We welcome your comments, lemon-lovers and lemon-haters alike...Double fours from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.