Trader Joe's Buenalba with Paprika Cheese

Well, somehow, we all made it to 2017. 2016 was kinda a doozy of a year, wasn't it? As far as anything I had some semblance of control over, it was good...but you can't exactly blame the sentiment behind things like this fairly believable fake move trailer. And if you're someone who's pretty glad to leave 2016 behind, just remember to take what's good and keep moving forward. It's all we can do.

Like...*scrambles for an example*...a ha! Trader Joe's Buenalba with Paprika Cheese! Sandy just picked this up, on the second day of 2017, yet this particular cheese was Trader Joe's spotlight cheese way back in October 2016. And, like Betty White, fortunately it has survived into the new year.

Coming to us from the exotic stomping grounds of Don Quixote (La Mancha, Spain), TJ's buenalba cheese with paprika is raw milk based, from both goats and sheep. I've had other cheeses of similar origins, and have a wide variety of experiences from soft and mild to bordering on what I'd call "viscerally pungent." Definitely place this on the milder, not wilder, side of that spectrum. It's soft yet a little waxy, with a fair amount of creaminess after a few bites that still leaves a little graininess. Almost like bleu cheese, but a little different. That makes for a pretty interesting bite, in my opinion, and one I had to try a couple times to try and get the hang of.

The vibrant orange hue, along with the promise of paprika, makes for a pretty spicy looking appearance. Let me assure you: not the case. It's smoked "sweet paprika" (whatever that means) which, honestly, I didn't notice at first, it's so mild. And, this is gonna sound a little weird maybe, but...instead of tasting it, I more felt it. yes, I felt the paprika. There was this soft, gentle warming I felt after maybe my second bite had gone down the hatch that really, on a decently cold winter night, was very welcome.

Sandy and I enjoyed our bites by their lonesome, without an accompaniment. We're not enough into the pinkie-raising crowd to be able to suggest a good wine pairing, but you're into that kinda thing, you're probably smart enough to not take whatever some goofball TJ's blog would say about it anyways. For $10.99 a pound, it's a pretty decent cheese to take a flier on if you haven't yet. It certainly won't be the worst cheese you eat this year.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Buenalba with Paprika Cheese: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Strawberry Champagne Truffles

These truffles are astoundingly good.

Set aside their lofty-ish price ($4.49 for about 15 pieces), their pink, floofy, girly packaging, and the fact that white chocolate just isn't as trendy or as "good-for-you" as antioxidant-rich dark chocolate—and you might be able to appreciate them for what they truly are: a festive, top-shelf candy product with a sweet, balanced flavor infused with strawberry, and an amazingly-inviting texture that will have you straining not to eat the whole box in a matter of minutes. They're perfect for any special occasion, be it Christmas, New Year's, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, Festivus, your birthday, or next Friday night.

Even Sonia—not a white chocolate person at all—was so enthralled by the flavor of this product that she was inspired to make another short video review. She gives the product an enthusiastic four and a half stars. Same here.

Interested in the nutrition facts? Jump to about 0:40 in the video.

Happy holidays, everybody!



Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Presents The Crispy Crunchy Mochi Rice Nuggets

Ever hear of the Mochi Rice Nuggets?

Man....they rock.

No, not like the band on the packaging of Trader Joe's Presents The Crispy Crunchy Mochi Rice Nuggets. I mean, that's a pretty ridiculous name...though I wouldn't be surprised if a band named that actually existed. There's bands with names like Neutral Milk Hotel, after all. I kinda would want to hear this nugget band though. I bet they could do a killer rendition of "Billie Jean" - you see that bassist with the 'stache and mane? He'd rock that bassline. And I will reward mega Internet points to anyone who can translate what the word bubbles are saying - I assume it's Japanese, because the nuggets are a Japanese product. But you tell me.

Nor are these particular rice nuggets particularly rock-like. Rocks, like stones (and not the Stones). Sandy and I neglected to get a pic of them out of the package, but they do closely resemble the non-cartoony aspects of the bag front - bite sized chunks of rice-type substance. Made from the same kind of glutinous rice paste as most other mochi, these mochi nuggets are crispified and fried. in a way - and this is meant as a compliment - they're more spongelike then the last product I reviewed, its name notwithstanding. Except instead of chewy, it's decidedly more crispy and crunchy while still retaining a slightly springy feel. Add in a little greasy comfort, and it's addictive.

The first time I bit into a nugget, the taste immediately reminded me of something familiar....something distinctive....something I haven't had in a long time. But I couldn't figure out what it was. Crispy, a little oily, definitely salty, with a grain kinda feel to it...ah, there it is. Bugles. Yes, the mochi rice nuggets taste almost just like Bugles, except in a form you can't easily stick on the end of your finger. And yes, I know Bugles are corn based, while these are rice...but the taste is very similar, and it's not just me saying it. One of Sandy's friends tried a few, and unpromptedly said the exact same thing. It's like each nugget was a handful of Bugles that got compacted down into a snackable cube-esque form.

It is worth mentioning that the nuggets are not labeled as gluten-free - according to the back, there's a chance of cross contamination with wheat. And also, of all things...mackerel. I don't even know how to say anything more than that. But there could be mackerel in your mochi. Seems perhaps some quality assurance could be better enforced at the factory, hmm?

I like the nuggets quite a bit. So does Sandy, and our kids too. I'm really hoping these become a thing with some different flavors and varieties coming out. Black pepper would be killer. So would garlic and herb, or even something like cinnamon and sugar. As is, though, the nuggets seem like they'd pair with almost anything, so there's some versatility. At $2.99, they'll be staple in our house for sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Presents The Crispy Crunchy Mochi Rice Nuggets: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Oatmeal Cranberry Dunkers with White Fudge Drizzle

I don't remember how much we paid for this tub of delight, but I'm pretty sure it was under five bucks. And considering the high volume of merry little cookies they jammed into this one transparent package, I'd definitely add it to our list of "Best TJ's Items That Come In Plastic Tubs."

Sonia thinks they taste "like something Grandma might make around the holidays." There is definitely something homey about them—a very wholesome oatmeal flavor.

But they're optimized for dunking—which means they're super crispy, crunchy, and firm, and they maintain their structural integrity even after being submerged in piping hot coffee or hot chocolate. 

They soften somewhat after being dunked, and their texture becomes even more pleasant. The oatmeal gets supple and warm, and the drizzle melts into something akin to fresh creamy icing from a bakery. I didn't mind these cookies by themselves, but even I, as someone who's definitely not in love with coffee, preferred them with a little java rather than plain. I haven't tried it yet, but I'd bet they're pretty decent with just a glass of plain old milk.

I wish the cranberry flavor were just a little more potent. It's there, but not very pronounced. And I'd also like to add: HOORAY for white chocolate/fudge! Call me unsophisticated or whatever, but these just wouldn't be as good with dark or milk chocolate drizzle. 

Sonia and I will both go with four stars on this one.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gelato Filled Panettone

This item wants to be eaten like a cupcake. I mean, look at it. It's got "icing" on the top with mini chocolate chips instead of sprinkles, a body made of something bready and cakey, a liner/wrapper thing, plus a yummy creamy filling. 

On the other hand, when I eat things like this with my hands, I tend to look like a baby by the end of it. Some part of the pastry winds up on my fingers, my face...and often in my lap, and I'm sitting there helplessly flailing around trying to lick some of the dessert out of my goatee. Not that babies have goatees. And not that there's anything wrong with getting in touch with one's inner child—however, I'm not nearly as comfortable with wearing my food as most infants are.

So I opted for the refined adult approach. I broke out a real metal fork and our finest dish (which happens to be made of plastic right now—don't ask). I set the thawed panettone in the middle of it, and dug right in. At first bite, I was mesmerized. Part of me wished I had opted to eat it with my hands so I could shovel it into my face faster. But then that seldom heard-from and even more seldom listened-to adult voice rang out in my head: "Slow down, my friend. This dessert wants to be relished and appreciated."

Because it's awesome—by far the best panettone we've had from TJ's. It's still the same fluffy, soft bread, and it still has some interesting dried fruits in it, but man oh man, that gelato is just amazing. It's both sweet and sophisticated—worthy of a top-notch Italian restaurant. It's worth using a fork just so one can measure out equal parts of gelato, cake, dried fruit, and chocolate bits in each and every bite.

Since the gelato is vanilla bean and there are lots of tasty chocolate drops, there's almost a cookies n' cream vibe about it. It's amazingly rich and creamy, and it blends together with the panettone bread and dried fruit much better than I would have guessed. 

There are pieces of candied orange peel, which I'm admittedly not a fan of just by themselves, but in this case they were so tiny that their texture was a complete non-issue. I thought they flaunted a poignant citrusy zing that really added something nice to the other elements. There were only a couple raisins, but they worked somehow, too. I could have sworn I saw a dried cranberry in there as well, but it may have just been a raisin with a sunburn or something.

If you like good gelato and/or panettone, go ahead and pick this up and thank me later. It's one of the best desserts I've had in a while.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken & Sweet Potato Sausage Bites with Cranberries Jerky Dog Treats

Happy December, everyone! Alfred and Sadie have stepped in to give us another dog treat review. Is this even a holiday item? We're treating it as if it is. There are cranberries in there, after all. And what's more holiday-ish than a cranberry?

These things smelled like the Wild King Salmon Jerky, much to the dogs' delight. How TJ's can make chicken and sweet potato smell like salmon, I'm not sure. Sonia thought they smelled like bacon. Maybe some kind of goofy rancid bacon, but hey—dogs love stuff that smells kinda funky.

The video features antlered pets (Sadie better watch out she doesn't wind up in that Venison Burger!) ...as well as Sonia's take on the dog treats. They're still a little big and firm for our small dogs, but maybe not as bad as some of the treats we've seen in the past. Our dogs loved the taste.



Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chili Chocolate Collection

Ah, spicy chocolate. That concept was completely unfamiliar to me until I met Sonia. She and her friends introduced me to Abuelita our first Christmas season together, and I've been having it each December since. Turns out, Trader José has his own spicy hot chocolate, and it's worth a purchase as well. But here we have chocolate guajillo, jalapeno ganache, chili lime, and habanero chocolates—like actual candies with different kinds of chili in them, just in time for the holidays. Sounds pretty exotic...good thing I'm feeling adventurous today.

First up, Milk Chocolate Guajillo: Amazing. For a second, it just tastes like very sweet, ultra-smooth milk chocolate, but wow. Wow. A few moments in, there's this delightful warmth that skates across your tongue and glides down the back of your throat. It leaves your mouth tingling long after it's done. I loved it.

Next, Jalapeno Ganache: Where have I heard that word "ganache" before? Oh yeah. That bacon-infused nonsense. Apparently, it's like a chocolate cream sauce. Well, not only is this ganache pork-free, but it's also got a jalapeno-esque kick and happy little green jalapeno chilis printed right on the candy. If you ever wanted to know what a chocolate-covered jalapeno would taste like, this is probably pretty close. Not my favorite, but I feel just a bit more urbane and sophisticated for having tried it.

Then there's the Chili Lime chocolate: Outstanding. Never had a chocolate candy like this before. The "zesty lime oil" is tart, tangy, sweet, and simply awesome. Blended with chili, caramel, and chocolate, the lime flavor still stands out as dominant. It was an experience I won't soon forget.

Finally, there's Habanero Milk Chocolate: With an impressive amount of heat, this red chili-printed chocolate also features ganache. When I heard the phrase "chili chocolate," this is the flavor I imagined. It's sweet, it's chocolatey, and it's most definitely spicy. It's certainly not bad, but I think my favorite flavor was the chili lime, followed closely by the guajillo. Sonia wasn't as big on the chili lime, but she raved about the guajillo. This habanero flavor was her second favorite.

At $4.99 for 16 candies, they're not exactly giving them away, but this would make a great gift for any adventurous chocolate lover, and I can't emphasize the high quality of this product enough. And most other comparable chocolate collections are much pricier elsewhere. Four stars from me. Four and a half from the lovely Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hat Trick Trio of Bitters

I've learned several things as a result of purchasing this product: (1) I missed my true calling in life as a bartender. (2) When they say "bitter," believe it. (3) It's nearly impossible to squeeze 1oz of juice from the average lime with your hands. (4) If Trader Joe's wants you to pay upwards of $15 for something, there's a reason for the premium.

We made all three drinks described on the packaging: Joe's Whiskey Sour, The New Daiquiri, and the Citrus Grove Gin Rickey. To be honest, I've never had a whiskey sour or a gin rickey ever before in my life. And the daiquiri in this case was nothing like the strawberry daiquiris I've tasted. Yes, I know. Haha. I've only tried the girliest drink out of the three. To be fair, though, I don't think I've ever actually ordered my own daiquiri. I've simply tasted my dates' daiquiris. Honestly. What? Don't believe me? Fine.

And I also poured the bitters right onto my tongue. Guess what? They're bitter. And potent. They cost so much because they'll last you five years longer than it takes for the earth to crash into the sun...or until you decide to move out of your house and into a new dwelling for the fourth time in seven years and you pass the little bottles along to friends as part of your downsizing efforts. But who would do a crazy thing like that?

The recipes call for five "dashes" of each bitter in its respective drink. How big is a "dash" exactly? I'm pretty sure that's not a universal unit of measure. But whatever. I think I erred on the side of "more than five dashes," because I genuinely appreciated the flavor they contributed, although I added a bit of extra syrup as well to balance out the bitterness. We used an agave syrup we had on hand rather than the called-for "simple syrup."

I think I liked the whiskey sour the best, mainly because I love lemon. But the other two beverages were nothing to sneeze at. Sonia liked the rickey drink the best. It really did have a nice citrusy vibe, and the grapefruit bitter probably had the most interesting flavor in and of itself. We both enjoyed the daiquiri, but to me, the spicy bitter/white rum combo was the weakest of the three concoctions.

If you're not into the whole drinking scene, the package gives a few other suggestions for enjoying these bitters. It mentions using them on fruit or ice cream. I must admit, we did NOT try them that way, and we couldn't really see how that could possibly work. If you have tried the bitters that way, please let us know in the comments whether you liked it or not. 

The box also mentions using the bitters in non-alcoholic beverages. That we did try. But after adding them to several different juices, fruit-infused sparkling waters, and sugar-free energy drinks (okay, that last one was just me) Sonia and I agreed that nothing worked quite as well as mixing them with good old-fashioned booze. Also, it's curious that they're 40% alcohol themselves. Yet they can be sold at TJ's that don't sell alcoholic beverages. I guess that's because nobody could ever drink enough of this stuff straight out of the bottle to get any kind of buzz without plastering a permanent pucker-face on his ugly mug. And in case some of you are wondering—no, I didn't try to do it myself. I only drank a dash or two straight from the bottle. I just look that way naturally.

Anyway, score-wise, we know this product won't be for everybody. It's a relatively small amount of liquid for a relatively high price. But if you look up comparable gift packs of three bitters, most other brands will run you in the ballpark of $50 instead of $16. For that reason and for the quality of the product, I give it four and a half stars. Sonia will go with four.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Pie

"...with a touch of Maple Bourbon flavor."

SCREEEEEEEEEECHHHHH. Back up the truck! What's that again?

Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Pie....with a touch of Maple Bourbon flavor.

Inconsistent capitalization aside, just how awesome does that look? If the words "sweet potato pie" didn't do it for you, I really hope that "maple bourbon" would.

Wednesday night was a perfect night for our family to gather 'round for a little warm comfort food dinner. Aside from a long day after a very short night's sleep, the cool, damp, chilly November air finally began sinking in around the 'burgh area. Sandy whipped up a fantastic homemade lasagna, which I probably (and unashamedly) ate four too many servings of, and would have had more if she didn't have this pie warming up in the oven in the meantime.

I love my wife.

I wouldn't say that I love this the TJ sweet potato pie - I'm too spoiled by generations of excellent bakers in my family, Sandy one of them - but for a simple, store bought pie with an autumnal slant, it's up there. Big time. You can keep your pumpkin pies to yourself. Although fairly similar, sweet potato pie is a tad different - more natural sugars, of course, but also a lighter, fluffier texture itself. The write up of this pie in the Fearless Flyer mentioned something or other about the taters being kettle cooked so as to more closely resemble whipped potatoes - presuming that's true, then it was very well done.

But of course the real star has to be that "Maple Bourbon" flavor, right? That comes in the form of an oatmeal-based crumble that was somewhat unevenly disbursed on top of the pie. The crumble did add a grainy feel, but with so much flavor - cinnamon, nutmeg, a lot of maple, and yes, even a little bourbon. I'm not sure if either of my grandmas ever made sweet potato pie for a holiday dinner, but if they did, this wouldn't be at the kid's table.

As for the crust, it fulfilled its duties admirably enough. It wasn't fancy, but not exactly nondescript - slightly buttery, a little flaky, definitely crispy, and held together. Made for a good bake.

It's $6.99 for the pie, and does require 25-30 minutes of oven baking as it's from the frozen section, so plan a pick up of the pie accordingly. For us, on a night a good family dinner without much fuss was needed, it worked great. Although I will say that our two kiddos opted for a popsicle after taking only a small bite - oh well - more for us then! Can't complain too much, although I would have preferred a little stronger bourbon presence. Then again, things are rarely perfect.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Pie: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Raspberry Cranberry Spritzer

There's something very festive about cranberries. I guess it all started with cranberry sauce, an integral part of the traditional Thanksgiving meal. I mean, they cram cranberry sauce into those ubiquitous Thanksgiving-themed wraps during the month of November. Cranberry is even part of most Christmas meals and many Christmas snacks these days. 

I'm sure there was some earlier version of the fruit that was consumed at the first Thanksgiving—something other than the shivering, gelatinous mass that slides out of a tin can and maintains the exact shape of the canister, right down to the ridges around the sides of the product. The Pilgrims and Native American Indians might have eaten, like, actual cranberries. Apparently, they're harvested up until the middle of November, so it makes sense they'd have a bunch of them on hand. Or, just as likely, they may have had cranberry juice to drink.

Raspberry is more of a summer fruit. But thanks to Ocean Spray, most of us know that raspberry and cranberry together is something pretty tasty and special. Add a little sparkliness...er, spritzeriness? And how could you go wrong?

The taste is lightly sweet, but very natural. It actually tastes like fruit juice and sparkling water. You can taste raspberry, cranberry, and even a dash of lemon flavor, but it's not as tart and intense as the aforementioned Ocean Spray offering. Both beverages are good, in my opinion, albeit in completely different ways. The sparkling water adds the perfect amount of fizz and dilutes the juiciness and syrupiness of the product, so it seems just a bit more sophisticated than typical Cran-Raz. Ever have Izze sparkling juice drinks? It's very similar to those.

Speaking of sophistication, how about the packaging? It's a very nice, classy bottle. To be honest, I'm not even sure if the cap was twist-off or not. In my zeal to open the product, I pried the metal cap off with a bottle opener without even testing my hand at the bottle top. Even though I managed to snap the only-slightly-mangled cap back in place, the spritzer will most likely lose its fizz pretty quickly. Oh well. Good excuse to chug a bunch of it today.

Because it's not super cheap ($3.49) I doubt I'll pick this up each time I swing by TJ's, but I would most definitely consider this as the non-alcoholic beverage to accompany my Thanksgiving and/or Christmas dinners.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Apple Caramel Greek Yogurt

Of the Greek yogurts we've tried from Trader Joe's, this one's the best. It's a lot more caramelly than I expected. The apple flavor is there, but subtle. It's tangy and tart, too, like you'd predict from a typical Greek yogurt. The wife was kind enough to head up a mini video review shoot in the backyard, which captured our candid first impressions of the product. It's only a minute and sixteen seconds, so give it a watch! Click here to see the nutrition info.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Harissa Salsa

"Hey! Stop eating all the kids' Halloween candy!"

That wasn't exactly what Sandy exclaimed while sitting down to watch Game 6 of the World Series, but her eyes, staring at the Reeses' and Butterfingers I had stockpiled on the couch, pretty much said that, with the heavy suggestion to find something else to snack on while trying to relax after a long, stressful day.

So, chips and salsa? That was never part of the trick-or-treat strategic reserves, so fair game. And with a new treat, Trader Joe's Harissa Salsa, in our possession, I could bear the thought of putting down the fun sized kiddie candies for at least a few minutes.

Not familiar with harissa? You're in good company. Neither was I. Kinda like the Korean barbeque sauce I reviewed last week, this is my first go-around. Tunisian and Moroccan inspired? Yes please.

First thing to notice: the aroma. This isn't a typical tomato-based salsa. Instead, the harissa literally reeks of paprika. That's meant as a compliment - because it smells FANTASTIC. It's an authentically deep aroma, a fragrant offering with some layers to it. With a little care, the bell peppers are also detectable, as well as jalapenos, but overwhelmingly, it's the paprika.

And, naturally, the taste carries through on all those premises. The milder elements are more upfront but quickly give way to that heavy, smoky paprika dose. It doesn't fool around or play games, but instead delivers the burn, and not like one I can recall from any other jarred salsa. If you can't stand spicy, stay the heck away...but if heat draws you in, you'll want to stand next to this fire.

The salsa is also smoother than it appears at first - it almost resembles a veggie salsa at first, with lots of pepper chunks - but they're all soft with no bite to them. There's no textural challenge presented by them, which I appreciate.

Sandy and I can't wait to try on more than just tortilla chips. Eggs, chicken, fish....yes to all that. There's a suggestion on the jar to pair with hummus, which would be fantastic. Because of the heat, uniqueness and presumed versatility, it's tough for either one of us to go with a score lower than four.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Harissa Salso: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gingerbread Cookie Sticks

Happy All Saints' Day, everybody. Now that the Halloween season is over, it's time for something new. 

I must admit, I do think of gingerbread as a Christmassy kind of treat, but considering the decided lack of new turkey-related items at TJ's, as well as the fact that my last post made Sonia and I sound like ginger-haters, I feel this product is an appropriate follow-up, since we've got nothing to share but ginger-love in this case.

There's "ground ginger" in the ingredients here. And the product smells and tastes a lot like ginger. But in this case, the ginger is balanced out with other spices and plenty of sweetness, including molasses and big, square, crunchy sugar granules. It's almost a homemade gingerbread cookie kind of vibe. Maybe not just like mom used to make, but certainly better than any run-of-the-mill grocery store bakery offering.

And the cookie sticks are soft! Both Sonia and I assumed they'd be crunchy for some reason. But they're as moist and soft as you'd want them to be.

Despite an overall positive impression, we do have a few negatives to point out. First, the packaging: Not a huge fan of cookies in cellophane bags—especially when they're not resealable. The product comes with a red ribbon that must be untied and re-tied each time you open the bag—otherwise the cookies are just left in the open air. Obviously, you could solve the problem by putting the cookies in some kind of tupperware, or if you've got a five-year-old handy, you could have him practice doing his shoelaces by tying the red ribbon in a bow each time the package is opened.

Also, the spices are kind of potent. It's not so much the ginger this time, but the clove and nutmeg do build up on your palate, making it difficult to eat more than one cookie at a time. I guess that's not really a bad thing, since I shouldn't be eating more than one cookie at a time anyway.

Sonia is anxious to try these cookies dunked in coffee. She'll throw out four stars this time. That sounds about right to me, too.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Unsweetened Organic Açaí Puree Packets

Stepping out of our comfort zones and trying new things—that's what it's all about when it comes to venturing the wilds of Trader Joe's like our team has these past six years. Not that I'm uncomfortable with acai. I've been singing its praises since before this blog began. No, I'm not uncomfortable with acai as an ingredient. But when it comes in a bag pureed all by itself and I'm the one who has to figure out what to do with it—that's a challenge for me. I mean sure, there are suggestions on the packaging and there are tons of recipes and ideas online. But up to this point, the acai in my world has always been pre-measured, pre-mixed, and pre-sweetened. And I liked it that way. 

But could I like it like this? It was worth spending $4.49 to find out.

Sonia and I have been brewing up fruit smoothies in our little generic wannabe "bullet" blender as of late, and we knew acai would be a welcome addition to our concoctions, which generally feature bananas, strawberries, yogurt, almond milk or coconut milk, and agave sweetener. It seemed like acai would probably blend pretty seamlessly with those ingredients. But knowing the berry's properties of earthiness, natural caffeine, and high levels of fiber, there would be certain potential pitfalls associated with using too much or too little in our homemade mixtures, namely: creating a beverage that might not taste great, missing a decent amount of sleep, and/or extra visits to the bathroom. But despite these inherent risks, we dove right in to acai-land and got a-mixin'.

Once thawed, the product is a fascinating purple goo. I had never tasted acai by itself before. It's far less sweet and much more earthy/nutty than I ever imagined. Those mixologists at Robek's and Jamba Juice always told me acai had a "natural chocolate-type flavor." Well, it certainly does when sweetened. But by itself, the flavor might be likened to some unusual, berry-ified bitter cocoa bean paste. If anything, our smoothies needed more sweetener than usual once we added the acai, in order to cancel out its natural bitterness.

Once sweetened, however, it added a very welcome complexity to our beverages that one simply cannot achieve using more traditional fruits and berries. It wasn't quite like those store-bought mixtures or a "professionally-blended" smoothie, but it certainly wasn't bad. We never did quite achieve that chocolatey taste we've had before, but we created an interesting fruit-based beverage with a velvety texture and an inviting richness seldom attained outside an actual smoothie joint—where you'd pay upwards of $5 for a single acai drink. 

Both Sonia and I are finding this one a bit hard to score, since it's just a single ingredient that begs to be used with many other ingredients. But for what it is: a convenient, relatively-reasonably priced (acai ain't cheap) exotic berry puree that can enhance your homemade smoothies and shakes, we think it deserves to be rated "really darn good."

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Chai Spice Loaf

There may come a day when I stop reviewing pumpkin spice products. To be honest, I wouldn't be completely heartbroken if that fateful day arrived soon. But before that happens—before I stop reviewing TJ's profound plethora of pumpkin products—two things will have to happen: Trader Joe's will have to stop releasing new pumpkin products OR I'll have to hit a looong streak of pumpkin nastiness, AND Americans will have to stop Googling "trader joes pumpkin spice" in such enormous numbers. Once those things come to pass, I shall hang up my hat as this blog's designated pumpkin and pumpkin spice reviewer extraordinaire.

However, this product did not help towards that end—that is, it's pretty friggin' tasty. Now I certainly don't have anything against Maple Sugar Candy, but before you pumpkin agnostics go declaring maple sugar the new pumpkin spice, you'll have to try pumpkin chai. Several readers tipped us off that this dessert was indeed worth a gander, and they were definitely not wrong.

I always thought pumpkin spices and chai spices were remarkably similar. And together, they're even better than they are separately. The cream cheese-based icing is where most of the chai flavor resides, and it's undoubtedly the sweetest and most decadent part of the product. It's absurdly delicious. Good thing they don't sell the icing in a can by itself. If they did, there'd be a widespread frosting-abuse epidemic, and people would be checking themselves in to clinics and joining twelve-step programs en masse.

The bread's not too shabby either. It's nice and soft. A bit crumby perhaps, but moist enough that the crumbs and chunks can be reassembled by mashing them with a fork before shoveling them into your mouth. Together with the icing, it's a delectable blend of sweetness and spiciness.

At $4.99 per loaf, it's not the cheapest pumpkin product we've tried this year. But in my opinion, it's worth every penny. It's perfect for dessert, but I must admit I've had it for breakfast on at least one occasion—easier to justify those calories in the morning, you know.

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

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy

"Ugh! Why does it have to be pumpkin spice everything!?!?!"

Believe it or not, that wasn't me who uttered that the other morning. No, it was M, my four year old, when I gave her the rundown of her breakfast options. Pumpkin O's. Pumpkin poptarts. Or a pumpkin muffin (not those, but close enough). Quite obviously, Sandy had done the last grocery shopping trip.

I have rarely been prouder as a papa.

Maple. It's one of the great flavors of fall, and it's so underrated. I think it's because all too many people equate "maple" as the "breakfast syrup" you see on shelves year round. Ummm....no. Real, authentic maple has a little of a premium attached to it because it's not the most efficient treat to make, but in my opinion, God and nature has made no finer natural, rich and sugary, divinely inspired nectar than unadulterated maple.

So it stands to reason that Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy ought to be knock-out-of-park good. In case you haven't read "Little House In the Big Woods" 37 times like my wife and don't have the maple sugaring chapter(s) memorized, maple sugar is derived from boiling sap past the syrup point to where nearly all the liquid is dried up, leaving clumps of natural sugar solids. It's firm enough to be able to mold into different shapes, in this case little cute leaves.

This small bites are pretty representative of the maple sugar candy genre. There's a slightly firm crystallized feel that quickly melts away into smooth-yet-granuley, buttery soft spread. Enjoy that. Let it linger for a while, and run your tongue all over and slather up every last bit...mmmm....maple....these are treats meant to be enjoyed and savored. As I am one prone to gulp down most anything without much thought, Sandy probably is going to check my temperature after that statement. But it's true.

These candies are deeply rich, superbly maple, and easily satisfy with just one or two, despite their small size. I mean, they're only seven grams each...but only five of those grams are sugar...what's the other two, tree magic? I don't know.

Pair with a hot beverage. Sneak some on an autumn treat tray. Hide some away for yourself when you need a "me" moment.

The small sleeve of four cost $1.99 near the checkouts, which, all things considered, isn't a horrible price to pay. We enjoyed them as a family after-dinner treat and no one had any complaints, and the only one of us to give a less than perfect score was B, my not-quite-two year old, who was probably only trying to be her characteristically silly, difficult self. Really, no complaints, Take a seat, pumpkin spice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Spice Brooklyn Babka

Let's say my review of the Chocolate Brooklyn Babka was Episode IV, A New Hope: an unfamiliar genre of food at TJ's; a baked good by which to measure all others of its kind. Well then, logically, Mr. Shelly's look at the Mango Brooklyn Babka was The Empire Strikes Back, with mango playing the role of Lando Calrissian. At first, both mango and Lando seem super cool. But then, you realize you don't want to spend a ton of time with them, particularly when they betray you to Darth Vader and/or spoil your summer TJ's runs with ridiculous amounts of mango-infused nonsense. But in the end, Lando turns out to be okay and joins the rebellion, just as certain mango products are very welcome, despite having to keep your guard up just a little bit whenever you're around them.

So that leads us to this product: Pumpkin Spice Brooklyn Babka. If we're sticking with our Star Wars metaphors, then we've arrived, inexorably, at The Return of the Jedi. Can you guess what role "pumpkin spice" plays here? 

That's right. Ewoks.

Super divisive, either love 'em or hate 'em, overly cutesy, give their fans the warm fuzzies, some might say unnecessary, yet as they stand, an integral part of the season/story.

If you don't like Ewoks, they'll ruin Episode VI for you. If you don't like pumpkin spice, it'll probably ruin this babka in a similar fashion. I embrace both for what they are, although, even I have my limits. There's just no justifying those god-awful pumpkin caramels or The Battle for Endor. 

But back to the babka. I looked up what kinds of babkas exist in normal New York bakeries, and pretty consistently, chocolate and cinnamon were the only flavors to come up in the articles I found. Neither mango nor pumpkin spice were mentioned. Ever. But hey, this isn't a bakery in Boro Park, this is Trader Joe's. They can do what they want. But I would like to ask them: why wouldn't you want to make a Cookie Butter Brooklyn Babka? Not such a far cry from cinnamon, I would think. But what do I know?

On a podcast episode long ago, Russ mentioned the lightness and airiness of the mango babka (just like Cloud City). Sonia and I were perplexed, as the chocolate variety was quite dense, rich, and heavy. Now we know what he was talking about, as the bread within this pumpkin spice version, too, is nice and light. Fluffy almost. The top of the babka is the exception to the airiness. It's thicker, heavier, and more flavorful than the rest of the product, and both Sonia and I agree it's our favorite part.

There's a fair amount of pumpkin spice flavor throughout. Sonia says she tastes an abundance of allspice in particular. She wishes there were a little less of it. I have a hard time identifying individual pumpkin spice flavors, but I do notice a slightly-more-pungent-than-usual pumpkin spice flavor that's just a little unappealing. It also leaves a slight aftertaste. That must be what she's talking about.

All in all, the flavor's about what you'd expect for a pumpkin spice pastry. The texture is pleasant and inviting. Personally, I'd put this on par with the chocolate babka, score-wise. If I wanted something rich and heavy, I'd grab the chocolate kind. If I wanted something light and fall-ish, I'd grab this one. Either way, these babkas will obliterate your munchies like a massive battle station with enough firepower to destroy an entire planet.

Three and a half Death Stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa

Ya know, in retrospect, it was probably unfair of me to say I was done with any Trader Joe's new fangled mango products. Truth was, as probably all of the rest of you, I was just sick of them, and poor Nathan had to pick up the blog slack, which in true Rodgers fashion, was done admirably.

But now, it's *sigh* pumpkin spice season. Unless there's some flashy irresistible bang-up product that I just can't resist (unlikely, but possible), I'm probably leaving all that alone, so if there's a new mango product I could possibly be interested in, I think I oughtta pick it up.

Actually, I have no idea if Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa is new or not. October doesn't exactly scream "Fruit Salsa Appreciation Month," so it seems weird to think it's new...but then again, I hadn't seen it. Maybe I just had my anti-mango horse blinders on. You tell me.

Would've been a shame to miss out on it. This salsa is mighty fine. There's a lot of sweetness, seemingly more from roasted tomatillo than anything else. And heat. lots of heat. Look at the ingredients - there' ghost pepper in here, which gives off a lot of spice, more than otherwise anticipated from appearances.

In what seems to be a strange step of salsa science, there's also corn and black beans tossed in the mix. I'm not really sure why that is...they're not exactly unwelcome, but it's not like any flavor gets added by them.

Maybe it's just to hide the mangoes.

I mean, there are mangoes in here...some decent sized pieces...but unless you happen to bite square into one, and pay some attention to it, it's easy to miss. With all of those aforementioned factors - roasty tomatillo sweetness, spicy heat, added texture of beans and corn - it's kinda easy to skip over the fact that there's mangoes involved. Even after repeated tastings, I'm not sure if I want to say that they're approaching indetectability or if they inconspicuously tie it all together.

Regardless of whichever answer, I'll come back for more and more. It's pretty fantastic salsa, which i found paired exceptionally well with some multigrain tortilla chips. Sandy's a huge fan because of the heat and absence of tomatoes, and as for me, I like the experimental feel to it - it's an odd hodge-podge that in the end works rather well. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Roasted Tomatillo & Mango Salsa: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sticky Pumpkin Cake with Hard Sauce

When I first read the title of this product, I assumed the "hard sauce" was referring to some sort of a solid sauce—like that Magic Shell stuff that you put on ice cream. And since ice cream is featured so prominently on the cover photo, I then wondered if maybe they stuck some ice cream in the box. I mean, this product comes from the frozen section, so it wouldn't have been outside the realm of possibility to cram a pouch or cup of vanilla ice cream in there somehow. Then, of course, I saw the little caption that says "...just a serving suggestion" and realized there was no ice cream. I frowned and mentioned it to Sonia. She, too, felt deceived by the artistic rendering of an à la mode dessert on the packaging. I was then further frustrated when I realized the "hard" part of the sauce was, in fact, dark rum, rather than a substance that shifted states of matter from a sticky syrupy liquid to a solid candy shell in a matter of minutes or seconds, right before my eyes.

After consoling one another about the tragic absence of ice cream from the box, as well as the equally disappointing presence of hard liquor in lieu of Magic Shell, we pulled ourselves together and proceeded with the preparation of our dessert. We flipped the package over and discovered that the only heating instructions provided involve a 1200 watt microwave. Now it's been pointed out many times on this blog that I'm quite adept at using the microwave for my culinary endeavors, while my skills with an oven or stove-top have generally lagged behind those of my peers. However, it should be mentioned at this juncture that Sonia and I have actually done without a microwave for the past three or four months. We have our own reasons for not purchasing a replacement microwave right now, but mainly, we just wanted to see if we could do without it. And surprisingly, neither of us have missed it very much. That is, until the day we went to heat up this sticky pumpkin cake.

At wit's end after the triple dose of first-world problems dished out by this syrupy, seasonal Trader Joe's pastry, I frantically searched the interwebs for a ray of hope concerning a viable alternate heating method. Thanks to the magic of Google, I quickly stumbled upon a thread on Chowhound involving some other poor microwaveless fool and his Trader Joe's Sticky Toffee Pudding, a wintery cousin of this autumnal pumpkin dish. (Sonia and I actually reviewed that one last year, and we should have remembered that it was to be heated only in the microwave, but now we're in our late thirties, our memories simply aren't what they used to be.) Long story short, I modified the advice given in the Chowhound thread and floated the pumpkin cake (yes, it floats!) in a large lidded pot on the stove-top, boiling the water all around it, thus steaming it, heating it, and yet maintaining a level of moisture that could never be achieved in the oven or regular stove-top pan.

At any rate, it worked quite well, and wow, I guess I should get to my thoughts on the actual food product before this review goes over a thousand words and you still don't know what we think of this product. It's good. There's definitely some pumpkin spice flavor, but it's blended in with heavy notes of the above-mentioned dark rum and caramel. The syrup is rich, lavishly sweet, and super smooth. The pecan pieces are a nice touch, and they add not only nuttiness to the taste, but a bit of crunch to the texture. 

It's really a delicious dessert, but we do have a few reservations. I'm sure it would be even better with vanilla ice cream to balance out the heaviness of the rum-caramel. And it would probably be even better with more pecans, too. If you're hugely into pumpkin spice products, this might be something you'll want to pick up, but if you're on the fence or if pumpkin spice and rum just isn't your thing, you're better off waiting until December and picking up the sticky toffee pudding. Despite our affinity for all things pumpkin, we both enjoyed that one just a little bit more, although this one's nothing to complain about by any means.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.