Trader Joe's 5 Layer Dip

"Dip."

It seems too simple, too trifling a word to describe the layers of lusciousness held within. 

It's a product that can turn ordinary tortilla chips into a filling, well-balanced meal. In the flatly-delivered words of David Puddy from Seinfeld: "Hey how come people don't have dip for dinner? Why's it always a snack? Why can't it be a meal, you know?" 

We've got vegetables, dairy ingredients, and multiple high-protein elements...and they're all ridiculously delicious. "Dip" is a many-splendored thing, isn't it? And in my opinion, it deserves a moniker worthy of its versatility...

But not all dips are created equal.

That gross yellow cheese that comes with movie nachos—a snack that costs seven or eight dollars but is clearly worth less than one—that stuff's "dip." 

I mean, adding the words "five-layer" to the product title helps a little. But it's still not a grandiose enough term to capture the wonder of this choice concoction. 

There are five basic elements to the condiment, but a good multi-layer dip is more than the sum of its parts, right?

Of course. Such is the case here. Any of the five layers would be a fine chip-topper in and of itself, but the resulting conglomeration yields at least five times the deliciousness of any one single element.

The game-changer here is the hummus layer. I don't know that I've had a multi-layer dip with hummus before. And it's not just chick pea hummus...there's black beans up in the mix. Either ingredient would have made this dip a winner. But both? Yes, please. The multi-layer dips I've had in the past all had a refried bean layer instead. And I like refried beans just fine, but I feel like hummus just works better.

Guac, pico, sour cream, and four kinds of cheeses? Are you kidding me? This is nearly the perfect mixture of every wonderful thing you'd want to put on a tortilla chip all in one tub—all fresh, flavorful, and in perfect ratios to one another.

Sonia only tried a bite or two of this dip because she's got some odd spring cold she's fighting. She was all stuffed up and couldn't taste anything. Since I was kind enough to share the dip, she was kind enough to share her cold, and I got sick, too—but not before devouring this entire tub myself. I guess I'll just have to score it on my own. I give it four and a half stars out of five. The only thing that would improve this stuff is a little heat. A single picante layer would make this the perfect food. I experimented with random hot sauces we had around: Texas Pete, Cholula, and packets from each of Taco Time, Del Taco, and Taco Bell. They all yielded tasty mixtures. 

Feel free to disagree with me...I mean, if you're comfortable with being dead wrong. A spicy version would be a shoo-in for the Pantheon. Four and a half stars (times two) for Trader Joe's Cinco Strata Magical Mosaic. 

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Benne Wafer Cookies

I had to look up "lowcountry." I was thinking it was a nickname for the Netherlands or Belgium or some other sea-level European nation. Turns out it's actually South Carolina...or several counties in South Carolina, at least—mostly the area around Charleston. 

I lived in North Carolina for a year, and during my time there, I only made it into South Carolina once—to the Myrtle Beach area. But fortunately, Sonia and I got to visit Charleston briefly a couple years back on our trip through the South. I don't remember hearing the terms "lowcountry" or "benne wafers," but I do remember the city having a certain colonial seaport charm as well as a unique look and feel. We didn't get to spend a ton of time there. On our way back north, we opted for a path that took us through Columbia, another fascinating, and perhaps less touristy, locale. Like the Georgia Pecan Cookies, these too are produced in Savannah, GA. Close enough to the lowcountry, I suppose. 

Apparently that whole southern coastal region has been snacking on benne wafers for centuries. They're basically the offspring of salty sesame crackers and sweet sugar cookies—a fact I was oblivious to up until the moment I popped one in my mouth. No, I didn't read the bag first. I like to dive in blind with no expectations if I can.

The sesame flavor is significant, detectable immediately when you bite into the cookie. I almost wrote "I'm surprised how much I like these" just now, but what I really mean is I'm surprised how much I don't dislike these. If I had read the bag before the purchase, I probably wouldn't have even bought them. I don't really think of sesame seeds as dessert-ish. I'm fine with a few of them on crackers or rolls. They work well on salty foods, generally. But in a cookie?

Yes, I must admit that somehow sesame seeds work just fine in these particular cookies. It's another unexpected sweet+salty combo that I probably wouldn't seek out unless I had a particular craving, but Sonia likes them significantly more than the pecan cookies. Between the two of us, we probably won't have much trouble finishing this bag.

Texture-wise, they're very similar to the pecan cookies. They're brittle, crispy, crumbly, and it might just be a psychological thing, but I feel like they're a little crackery, too—as in, you know, cracker-like. 

Score-wise, we're looking at three and a half from me and four from the wife.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jalapeño Sauce

I'm fortunate to live right around the Pittsburgh area, which has a surprising amount of pretty decent restaurants. Don't take just my word for it. We're like the 2019 Food City of The Year and here's some pretty good places. Or so I hear. Family budget and smaller child preferences don't always lend themselves to going and checking out those kinda places. I told you to not take my word for it.

But one place we've found common ground on is a great little Peruvian place, right in the Strip District where it's an enjoyable night out. It's called Chicken Latino. Great place, and kinda underrated in my humble opinion. And I've been to Pero, so I can at least somewhat vouch that it's fairly authentic. I've had anticuchos in both Lima and at Chicken Latino...it's close.

I mention this in reference to Trader Joe's Jalapeño Sauce because there is a sauce there, and also from what I remember from Peru, which is an absolute knockout, and I'd be darned if this TJ's take isn't a pretty darn good approximation. It's spicy. It's creamy. It's got all sorts of clean, authentic, jalapeno flavor.

Man...I've used this on so much in the past week or so. Chicken. Eggs. Pulled pork. Yes, yes and yes, it all works. The sauce kinda glops out rather than pour which is okay, it's part of the charm. In Peru, I recall mixing something very similar in with rice and plantains and being extremely happy with the reult. I doubt it'd be much different here. Good, good heat too - very true to the pepper and not artificially amped by vinegar and whatnot.

I have a small quibble, though I'm not sure how to explain it. Look at the ingedients. Canola oil is so high on the list. That makes this a canola oil based sauce. I'm not exactly anti-canola oil...but am I really for it? I don't know. But I kinda wish something else would be used as the sauce base, for whatever reason. I mean, it doesn't taste oily - it really is deceptively creamy - but still. It sticks out.

Regardless, I'm a fan as is the wifey. We both tasted it and thought of Chicken Latino, and to hopefully prove we're not crazy, one of our favorite TJ's peeps. Karen, agreed. Don't know Karen? If you watched the 2017 Rose Bowl Parade, you would. She was on the TJ's float and she works at our local shop, and she's genuinely awesome but would tell us if we were wrong. We're not. 

There you have it. Give it a try. Costs much less than a flight to Lima or heck, even a rice plate at Chicken Latino. We'll still go there though. That stuff is goooooooooooood. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Jalapeño Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Jerk-Style Plantain Chips

Of course it can't be found now, but earlier this week I somehow stumbled across a blog detailing a couple's weight loss journey after adopting a plant-based diet. Not to be disrespectful, because that's AWESOME and they were apparently very succcesful with it, but that's not the part that caught my interest. Nope. Instead, it was how they got started that did. Namely, and this really can't be fully recommended across the board, but...they ate nothing but plain potatoes for two weeks to kick things off.

Really.

From what I surmise, it was like to reset their tastebuds, a little sensory deprivation so they'd more easily adapt to finding enjoyable flavor in their new diet...but still. Props to them, and it's only weird if it doesn't work.

One small step up from that would be plantains, I'd think. Similar plainness and starchiness. A little sweeter, sure, but not as much sugar as even like a banana. Plantains are plenty tasty, but they could at least occasionally use a little livening up, too.

So, hey...here's the new Trader Joe's Jerk-Style Plantain Chips!

If you're not familiar with plantain chips, they're still a little crispy and crunchy, but there's also kinda soft-ish Styrofoamy kinda feel to them, too. They're sorta an odd mix between potato chip, banana chip, and disposable coffee cup. I personally love that kinda texture, but it can be offputting to some.

That's what we got going on here, but the chips are coated all over with jerk seasoning. And it's potent. Hooo-hoo. My four year old took one lick of one chip and immediately reenacted Buddy the Elf and passion fruit spray. Not for her, for sure...but man, it's for me. Plenty of heat, plenty of spice. But there's also a certain "warmness" that plays into the natural flavors of plantains. I think that derives from the allspice and cinnamon. So it may not be a true "jerk" seasoning blend (hence the "jerk-style", I suppose), but there's still the garlic and pepper and chili and everything else, so it works and therefore is not weird.

Delicious chips. A bag sets you back only $1.79, and I kinda can't believe that it's not a single serving, because I could devour the whole thing. Could. Shouldn't. I won't say that I won't ever. Excellent chips in my opinion. Are they healthier than potato chips? Who knows? But I like them as a variation at the very least. Check 'em out for sure! Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Jerk-Style Plantain Chips: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Shakshuka Starter

Back in my bachelor days, it'd be pretty common to completely wing dinner as I cooked it based on whatever ingredients I could scrounge up. Usually, somehow, I'd end up chopping up an onion, some pepper, maybe another veggie, and putting it in some kind of sauce with some kind of spices and putting it over something. Most times, it worked. Other times, well, it worked with a little more hot sauce. Obviously I didn't starve, so it all went alright enough.

Get married...have to eat "real food"... I got out of the habit of doing that. We had to follow "actual recipes" said the wife. What? Well, okay, yes dear. Still haven't starved.

But one day, beaming widely and happily, Sandy brings home a couple packages of the new Trader Joe's Shakshuka Starter, exclaiming "I can't wait to have this for breakfast!"

Kinda odd...normally she hates tomatoes and most tomato-heavy products...Well, okay, yes dear.

I'll admit I know nothing about real actual authentic shakshuka. It's a staple in North African and Middle Eastern cusine, means literally a "mixture." Which says to me there must be a thousand different variants, but this TJ's version just so happened to be the first officially labelled shakshuka I've ever had....though the concept is pretty similar to what I used to do all the time...

It's pretty good. This particular shakshuka is pretty thick and chunky with tomato bits and onions and peppers - it's definitely towards the thicker definition of stew. It's simply and naturally flavored with the usual suspects - onion, garlic, cilantro, a little pepper, a little cumin, etc - which are spicy not in a hot hot heat way but more in an herbal manner. It's all pretty well balanced and non-offensive...I'd even say pretty downright pleasant with no need for anything added.

Except the eggs, of course. Gotta add your own eggs and kinda cook it in a little "pocket" in the stew. This is the key step, though, especially if you're like Sandy and me and don't really enjoy poached/sunnyside up style eggs. That runnyness? No thanks. Sandy was wise enough to keep the yolk out of her eggs, leaving only egg white for her. As a result, her eggs were just about perfect and meshed nicely with everything else. My eggs, though? I kept it in and...ugh. Yolk got all gross and rubbery. That of course is not a knock against the actual TJ's product, but I did enjoy the meal less than I could have, so take not: Runny yolk or no yolk at all.

Anyways, the shakshuka is good and fun. Fun to make, fun to eat, fun to say...I kinda felt like Buddy the Elf saying "Fransisco." And it's cheap - only maybe like $2 for the package. Good value too then. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Shakshuka Starter: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Cold Brewed Hibiscus Tea & Lemonade Beverage

It's starting to warm up in the southwest, and folks down here will be needing refreshment soon. Whether you'll be mowing lawns like I'm accustomed to, or tilling gravel like they do down here, you'll be craving a cold beverage of some kind. So let me give it to you straight: if you're into drinking flowers, this hibiscus tea lemonade hybrid is pretty darn refreshing.

Although, if you want to get into semantics, I must admit no part of this screams "lemonade" to me. There's just a hint of sweetness, but the lemon element tastes more like plain lemon juice to me. That's not necessarily a bad thing. I do enjoy sweet beverages historically, but not-so-sweet, subtle flavors definitely have their place—and this product embodies that sophisticated, understated ideal perfectly.

There's a surprising amount of sediment on the bottom of the bottle. I'm not even sure what it is: little pieces of hibiscus flowers? It does say "shake well before using" on the label. Whenever I can see visible bits of sediment, I always worry that the beverage will have a gritty texture, but this selection didn't at all—light and smooth all the way.

I'm on record on this blog stating that I don't like hibiscus that much. And it's still not my favorite, but I must say it didn't bother me as much in this case as it has in previous incarnations. I think the sourness of the lemon juice helps balance out the "plantiness" of the flowers.

Since readers have scolded me when I score something that I generally have an aversion to, such as hibiscus, I'll let Sonia do all the rating here. She likes hibiscus just fine, and she gives this drink four stars. So I'll just double her score. If you want to know what I would have given this product: a three, maybe three and a half. Hibiscus still just isn't my thing. I'll take flavored sparkling water over this kind of beverage if I want something unsweet, and I'll reach for a fruit juice blend if I want something a little more sugary. 

If I were hella thirsty, though, you better bet I'd down this bottle in seconds.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fresh Mozzarella Cheese Sticks

As a young bachelor, I wasn't much into eating cheese by itself. It just never appealed to me. I was fine with cheese on sandwiches, pasta, pizza, and other stuff—you know, the usual suspects. But as a married man, I've learned to live with a woman who almost always has cheese on hand in our fridge—and not just slices of cheese or shredded cheese, but variants of cheese that were designed to be eaten as stand-alone snacks: those little wheels of Babybel, for example and, of course, various brands of string cheese like Frigo or Polly-O.

At this point, I should pause and clarify something that most of you probably realize already: this is not string cheese. Foodie-hack that I am, I tore into one thinking it was. As I removed the entire plastic sleeve, I wondered why there was so much liquid surrounding the cheese, now spilling out of the packaging and onto my pants and the floor. Then I proceeded to grip the top of the cheese stick and pull down in a peeling motion. Not only did the cheese not peel as anticipated, but a little disc of it wanted to separate from the top in an unexpected way. I popped the little piece into my mouth and immediately realized: this product isn't like other cheap sticks of string cheese that kids constantly crave. This product is far more akin to those expensive mozzarella balls that cost something like $6 or $7 at the supermarket—the kind that's simple, subtle, and super gourmet.

Indeed, these are quality mozzarella balls in stick form. They're cheese sticks for a more refined palate. I'm not saying your kids won't like them. I'm just saying that if they do, they've got refined tastes. I've had some top-shelf mozzarella at county fairs and arts festivals, and for $4 at Trader Joe's, this product isn't a far cry from those other upscale offerings.

It's a clean, light, milky flavor that will be perfect for warmer weather. 

These sticks aren't heavy, gooey, or overpowering in any way. They're super soft, too. There are delightfully few ingredients. I could see them working well in antipasto, or pairing with olives, tomatoes, bruschetta, or any other Italian foods with subtle flavors, but I must admit they make pretty satisfying snacks just by themselves. Sonia's a bit more of a cheese connoisseur than I am, and she enjoys these even more than I do.

If you like the subtle flavors of fresh mozzarella and ever wanted to enjoy them in a convenient, snackable form, this isn't a bad purchase at all. Four and a half stars from my better half. Three and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Garlic Salt with Grinder

Let's see...

Sea salt.

Roasted garlic.

Onion.

Ampersand.

Parsley.

In a grinder tube.

That's all, that's it. That's all it is and there ain't no mo'.

It's so simple. It's almost too simple, some might say. But somehow, Trader Joe's Garlic Salt with Grinder is bordlerine magic.

I'm not sure what the sorcery behind this is. Maybe it's extra salty and delicious sea salt, because that comes on strong. Or perhaps it's extra roasty and pleasantly pungent garlic. I mean, open the cap and it'll smack ya upside the olfactories. That garlic permeates every sprinkle of every bite. Maybe it's the onion and parsely helping give the salt and garlic a solid base that holds it all in near perfect harmony. Maybe it's perfect ratios. Maybe it's the grinder making perfectly sized granules that have a little crunch and got dispersed all over whatever.

Maybe it's all of the above.

And listen...typically I'm not a "put salt on everything" kinda guy. Added salt is, to put it mildly, generally not good for you. My day job consists partially of reading and evaluating cardiac patient medical notes...and over and over again: No salt diet. Patient advised to restrict salt intake. Low sodium diet encouraged. And so on and so on.

But everything in moderation, right? And if you're gonna sprinkle more salt on your dinner or whatever, make sure it's a good one!

I want to put this on everything. I discovered this garlic salt grinder at a dinner with friends a few nights ago. Plain cheese pizza...good but not great. Grind some of this TJ's garlic salt on though? Transformative! Since then, I've used some on veggies, eggs, quiche, cous cous. I've thought of making garlic bread with it. About the only thing it didn't taste good on was some homemade coconut ice cream my kids made...but even that wasn't as awful as it sounds. Not recommended though for sure.

I love it. Sandy loves it. Everyone who tried it loved it at the dinner - it was the absolute hit. There's something magic here, I swear. And for $1.99 it ain't a bad price either. It's just that simple.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Garlic Salt with Grinder: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Almond Chia Cereal

Just as in childhood, there are subtle yet unmistakable steps of maturation in adulthood, right? Or at least, definite benchmarks of getting old. Like...

...realizing your bald spot is, in fact, pretty bald.

...waking up and being sore for no apparent reason.

...turning down the volume while blasting '90s music alone in your car because it's "too loud."

...realizing the only reason why you're listening to Pearl Jam is because only God knows what the kids are listening to these days but my goodness it sounds like garbage. Drake? Post Malone? Cardi B? Who are these people?  Are they people? Or robots? Because robots make music these days. Crazy.

And most pertinent to this review: realizing that some cereal tastes much better without any added sugar.

Such is the case with Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Almond Chia Cereal.

That's a lot of natural goodness here. The inherent earthy graininess of the flakes. Tasty toasty almond slivers. Light coconut flavor all abound. If anything there's a lack of chia seed clusters, at least in the top half of the box thus far...maybe them little buggers worked all their way down.

Listen to me. Complaing about not enough chia seeds in my cereal. I do sound old.

It's tasty, tasty cereal for sure. And I'm not usually a cereal person. The flakes are solid and crunchy enough to be fully submerged in milk and still maintain a high factor of munchitude. Probably, if you're a yogurt and cereal person, this would work. And even adding some banana wouldn't be the worst idea.

My one small complaint, though: When I added milk, some of the bites tasted almost vaguely buttery. I'm wondering if it was the wetness unleashed/embellished some of the coconut and oil a little bit. It's not noticeable when dry, and I didn't taste it as much the second time around...but it was a little weird.

All those grains...and proteins...and fiber...and calories...this is hearty, filling cereal for sure! A few small handfuls killed my hunger for quite some time.

Anyways I mentioned the "tastes worse when sugar added" thing to Sandy, and she gave me one of those "well duh" looks before stating many cereals taste that way. It's worth noting she's almost exactly two years older than me and females mature quicker than males and all that...so I'm catching up, love. But yeah, extra sugar kinda kills off half the good stuff about this cerea. Which is a shame because it's pretty darn good in fact. 4.5 from me, 3.5 from the older, maturer missus.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Almond Chia Cereal: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Avocado Hummus

If pluots and tangelos are things, why aren't chilicados? I don't care if it's half jalapeno or poblano or whatever. This is something that needs to happen: half avocado, half...any kind of chili pepper hybrids. I'm sure there's some sort of scientific reason it can't be done, or perhaps, less likely, some overly-moralistic vegetable farmer discovered the formula but decided that it wasn't his place to "play God." Well, my faithful friend, I would argue that God gave you those brains and farming skills for a reason, and that no harm could possibly come from crossing spicy chilis and avocados. They'd make delicious salsa, guacamole, sandwich-toppers, and...yes, even hummus. C'mon, Monsanto, what could help your public image more than inventing chilicados?

But until that fateful day arrives, thankfully, we have products like this one to tide us over. It begs comparison to the recently-released Buffalo style variety, but alas, we didn't try that one. We'll just have to take the Shelly family's word for it. I'm a much bigger fan of avocado than I am of Buffalo sauce...so that all worked out quite well.

And it's not just avocado here. It's "spicy avocado." If there's one thing I like more than avocados, it's chilicados—which, of course, don't actually exist yet. But the combo of avocado with jalapeno, cayenne, and black pepper, along with garlic and cumin = win.

Now, on the other hand, if you're looking for spicy guacamole, you're looking in the wrong place. The texture is very smooth and hummussy. It's smoother even, perhaps, than ordinary hummus. It also tastes a great deal like ordinary garbanzo-based hummus, but simply flavored with "avocado pulp" and the aforementioned peppers. That's my only complaint. I love garbanzo beans and traditional hummus, but what makes this product unique is its avocadoiness and spiciness. I wouldn't have minded more avocado and less hummus in the flavor department, but that's a minor complaint. It's an excellent product, so long as you like hummus and spicy avocado.

It works great with toasted pita bread, and it's excellent as a chip dip. Sonia is an avocado enthusiast, and she loves her spice, as well. This product is right up her alley. She, too, wouldn't have complained if there were a little more avocado present, but as is, she's a big fan. She likes that it's organic and that there aren't many ingredients. It'll be her second four and a half star score in a row. I'll throw out four.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Green Kombucha

Holy snakes....it's St Patty's Day already this weekend? Wow. Kinda snuck up on us here.

So, hate to disappoint as usual, but there just might be a certain dearth of St Patty's day themed reviews. There's some back in the archives though - Irish bangers and the puntastic Blarney scone come to mind - so click on around back there.

Best I can do is a green drink review. Won't be our first. And I've written before about my affinity for kombucha...but have you tried Trader Joe's Organic Green Kombucha?

No?

Seriously, go for it.

I can get the hesitation for picking up this beverage. It's a bit intimidating looking in some ways. I mean, I see the bewilderment in my coworkers' eyes when I have just a regular mango kombucha on my desk at work - but a green one? With this spirulina and chlorella stuff, whatever that is? That's just kinda weird, it seems, for most people.

Not me. I love the green kombucha. I go back and forth between different companies, different flavors, etc...but I always come back to this one. I'll admit the first time I bought it, it was with low expectations, which were wrong.

Like other greenish drinks, the prevailing flavor here is actually apple. But not green apple, it's more a general apple apple. That's a good call - sour, acidic green apple taste with an already sour fermented base drink would likely be a little much. So instead of adding to the sour bite, the applem flavor actually balances and enhances it somewhat, making for a smooth, relatively mellow flavor.

And like any good kombucha, there's a bit of ginger in there too. Gotta love that ginger bite. It definitely plays second fiddle to the apple but it's undoubtedly there.

Plus: spirulina. It's good for you.  And chlorella too. Who cares it's seaweed? I certainly don't.

Really, I have nothing bad to say about this kombucha whatsoever. Fantastic stuff. And at $2.69 a bottle, it's pretty reasonably priced for a quality organic kombucha - it certainly won't set you back a pot of gold. If you haven't tried it go for it, it's almost perfect.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Green Kombucha: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate & Honey Toffee Pecans

I mentioned a few posts ago that Lemon Lunacy should be added to Mango Mania and Coffeepalooza as another seasonal Trader Joe's flavor extravaganza. Well, on that same note, I guess Toffeepalooza wouldn't be a bad idea either. We're going on 8 or 9 product reviews with the word "toffee" displayed prominently in the title of the product, and a number of others where toffee ingredients or flavors were featured noticeably in the offering but failed to make top billing for one reason or another.

So when I heard about these morsels, it made me wonder why we needed one more toffee-based candy on the shelves of Trader Joe's. Despite its newfangledness and potential buzzworthiness, I might have even passed over it entirely. However, Sonia snagged a bag on her latest TJ's shopping adventure at our old stomping grounds right in the heart of Hollyweird, California.

She was no doubt influenced by the simple, eye-catching honeycomb pattern and stylish font on the bag. Graphic designers are so easily swayed by attractive package design. <sigh> Just because it looks good doesn't mean it is good. Case in point: that "glamorous" Oscars show some of you might have watched the other night is filmed right in the middle of a giant perpetual freak show...and it hasn't gotten any less bizarre since we lived there.

But Sonia's instincts were right again. Unlike Hollyweird, this product lives up to its chic veneer. Upon opening the bag, there's a delightful chocolatey smell that wafts out from the package, with hints of the titular honey and toffee as well. The candies are markedly larger than most pecan nuts, ostensibly because they're coated in so much chocolate and toffee. Most pieces are perfectly bite-sized, but the largest ones are surprisingly grandiose, resembling palm-sized stones, rather than mere pebbles—easily big enough for multiple bites.

The taste is exactly like the smell: full of sweet milk chocolate, honey, and toffee, but with plenty of nutty pecan flavor, too. They're crunchy by virtue of the nuts and toffee, but not unpleasantly hard or brittle. Honestly, they're addictive. There's a resealable zipper at the top of the bag, but if you break this bad boy open in a group of four or more people, there's a good chance you'll never get to use it.

If the title sounds appealing to you and you're a fan of all the constituent ingredients, I can't imagine you'll be too disappointed by this product. Toffee and chocolate aren't really my snacks of choice, but I was once again pleasantly surprised. Double fours once more.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky

What is the sound of one hand clapping?

If a tree falls in the forest but no one hears it, does it make a sound?

What came first, reality TV infamy or the Kardashians?

All of these are unanswerable questions. Meditate on them night and day, and just maybe you'll have an answer...but all of these are timeless mysteries for a reason.

What is watermelon, though, without water?

One could seek out your local friendly mountaintop Zen master...or whip out a food dehydrator and give yourself about a week or so...

...or as of about right now you can head down to everyone here's favorite grocery shop, plop down $3.69, and buy yourself a bag of Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky.

That's right. Watermelon. In jerky form. As in a famously watery fruit, highly sought after for its thirstquenching glory, dried and flattened and rolled up so as to eliminate any trace of a drop of some high quality H2O.

Listen, I'm about as baffled as you. Or I was. I first heard about this weeks ago and called every other day since then...but there were rollout delays, then weather issues, then...well, finally, I snagged four bags and couldn't wait to rip one open to behold this magical arid fibrous fruit wonder. Waited so long....

It's odd stuff, for sure. It's unquestionably a very concentrated watermelon flavor, as one might expect. It's not as intense as I anticipated, but I'm glad TJ's didn't go the added sugars route. It's just watermelon sans water.

Interesting tidbit from the bag bottom:

Wow! If I'm doing my math right, the end product is about 1/34th its original weight, and is about three quarts of water extracted. Watermelon was hitting that Lasix hard. 

All well and good, but what about the texture? How does it actually work?

The melon jerky is kinda stiff, fibrous, and a little sticky. Both bags I have opened thus far have had all the pieces clumped all together necessitating them to be plied apart carefully. I lack any better way to explain it than saying, imagine a thin, dense sponge that got baked dry. That probably sounds more awful then I intend it you, but there's a surprising amount of chew to it. It's not as much as a jerky from a regular source, but still. There's not too many seeds in the jerky either - I think I've seen maybe only two or three per bag, and they meld in well enough with the rest of the product.

When all said and done, though, I'm not sure how much I actually truly like the watermelon jerky. There's an absolute novelty factor at work, which hit me with some initial marvel, but once it wore off, I was just eating weirdly dry waterlessmelon. I've heard it said that watermelon jerky could be considered a vegan alternative to regular jerky - well, if that's your thing, go for it, but that's a bit of a stretch to me.

I brought some into work to share, and most reviews were pretty friendly. The melon jerky definitely made for some odd reactions and some flatout rejections...but most were positive.

My final call is, if you like watermelon and novel snackage, the jerky is worth at least one try. Worst comes to worst, you can do TJ's no-hassle return policy - but I doubt it'd come to that. I don't know...double fours? That's as much juice as I can squeeze here for these edible contradictions.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Cinnamon Croissant Loaf

If you love loaves of cinnamon bread and you have an affinity for soft, fresh croissants...

then reach for a piece of Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky!

LOL! That wouldn't make any sense, now would it? Besides, watermelon jerky isn't real...

What I meant to say is: "then reach for Trader Joe's Cinnamon Croissant Loaf!" 

It's apparently the illegitimate lovechild of one stupid, steamy night between a loaf of frisky cinnamon bread and a sultry croissant. I don't want to get into the logistics of that whole thing, nor do I want to be too judgy...but just suffice it to say that it's a beautiful mistake—a happy accident, if you will.

On its own, the bread is nothing to write home about. It's croissant-ish, but wants to be warmed up even more than a traditional croissant. There's some cinnamon flavor, but it's not overbearing, and it's not really sweet, either. Also, it's just not quite flaky enough straight out of the bag. 

Toasted with butter, on the other hand, this product is simply scrumptious. It's all the deliciousness of a croissant with all the convenience of sliced bread. The melt-in-your-mouth factor increases exponentially when toasted or warmed, as well. It's still not really sweet on its own, so just sprinkle a little extra sugar on top for killer cinnamon toast.

We read online that people were making French toast from this stuff. I twisted Sonia's arm into making some for me since French toast is above my pay-grade as far as culinary endeavors are concerned. It was worth every ounce of effort Sonia put into it. Simply delish with some nice sweet syrup. Hey, I did my part, too. I made sure the dogs didn't eat any when the wifey put the finished product on the table. 

Let's see: they've done cinnamon croissant bread and pancake bread so far. What's next? Waffle bread? Bacon and eggs bread? Cereal bread? Those zany product developers always keep us on our toes.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Vegetable Pouches

Who wrote the rule book that says bite-size little fried dealies have to be served before the main course of a meal? Why do salads have to be eaten before the main course? Why dessert after?

Just to spit in the face of such tyrannical traditions, I've eaten appetizers as the main course of my meal as often as I have had the opportunity to do so. I've also eaten desserts first and salads last...because I'm a rebel like that. I've upset many a waitress pulling such stunts, which, incidentally, is why I don't eat out very often anymore. Except Cracker Barrel. We eat there a lot...because they let us stay overnight in their parking lot. And even then we don't eat in the restaurant, but we get take-out and we eat at the dinette in the RV, where I'm not likely to upset our server with my unorthodox dining practices like consuming those tasty biscuits at the end of the meal rather than the beginning.

All that to say: it just goes to show you how woke TJ's is—they specify on the side of the box that this extremely appetizer-esque product can be served "as a light entree." Right on. Free the app. Free the app from its predetermined role on the dinner table. Let it be whatever it wants to be. Free your mind first. Then free the app.

So free the app we did when we had these as our main course for dinner the other night.

They're basically crispy little egg rolls, but served in a different configuration. They contain many of the same ingredients as a typical egg roll, all rolled up into a mini pouch-shaped wonton, with a funky little flower-like bundle at the top. The veggies have a nice flavor, with plenty of oomph from the spice blend, which includes garlic, ginger, and salt. They might even be a little too salty with the soy sauce already added to the vegetables. 

That was Sonia's main complaint: there was no dipping sauce included. I wish they'd have refrained from adding soy sauce to the product itself and left a little packet on the side. Yes, yes, I know...more packaging is bad for the environment. But at least we could have administered the amount of soy sauce of our own choosing. These probably would have been killer with a bit of sweet chili sauce, too.

There's not quite enough in the package to serve as the main course for two people. It says there are 2.5 servings in there, but that's if they're acting as an appetizer, methinks. I probably could have polished off the whole pack myself. We ate it with a little leftover catfish from Cracker Barrel, and that worked out nicely. Southern-Asian fusion isn't a thing as far as I know, but perhaps it should be.

Sonia gives these vegetable pouches four stars. I give 'em three and a half.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Honey Hedgehog Cookies

What does hedgehog meat taste like? 

We know they're "organic," but were these hedgehogs raised free-range? Were they grass-fed? What part of the hedgehog was used in the making of these morsels? Ribs? Thighs?

You'll not find the answers to these questions in the following review. But I will say that Trader Joe's neglected to list "hedgehog" in the ingredients. Perhaps, like Sonic, they were too fast to catch, and were thus pardoned from becoming ingredients in their namesake cookies. Man, was I was a Sonic the Hedgehog junkie back in the day. And I knew a girl with a hedgehog for a pet in college. Funny little animals. They eat mealworms and take dust baths. If goldfish, bears, and cats can have snacks named after them, why not hedgehogs?

Even lacking hedgehog as an ingredient, as they stand, these vegetarian (not vegan) little crunchy cookies are still quite edible. There's plenty of honey flavor, and the "cultured butter" adds a nice little tangy zip to the sweetness.

They're not unlike Teddy Grahams or regular honey graham crackers, but there's just a slight bit more complexity in the flavors here. I like them. Sonia thinks they're like Barnum's Animals but with even higher quality. 

Texture-wise, they're crispy, crunchy, and buttery. Each pack contains just the right amount of cookies to curb an average case of the afternoon munchies, or they could make a great "dessert" for a lunch box meal in the middle of a work or school day.

$2.99 for six 1 oz. baggies. There are about nine hedgehogs in each bag—the perfect serving size if you ask me.

Also, these hedgehogs are cute, both on the packaging and the cookies themselves. The kids'll love 'em...both the four-year-old kind and the 40-year-old kind.

Once again, Sonia and I will put up matching sets of four stars each on this product.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chocolat En Croute

Call me jaded, but when I see "Chocolat En Croute," I assume it's just a gimmick. Crusty chocolate, eh? You expect us to pay $6.49 for a loaf of crusty chocolate, TJ's? I was wholly disinterested. 

Fortunately, Sonia didn't see it that way, and she picked one up before we left the San Antonio area. We needed backup review items for our long journey across western Texas and southern New Mexico. There aren't any Trader Joe's between San Antonio, TX and Tucson, AZ along the I-10 corridor. That's almost 900 miles and 13 hours of driving without a TJ's. We could have taken a detour up to Albuquerque and made a TJ's run there, but that's six hours round trip off our plotted course. So we just stocked up and headed west.

So that means this box has been sliding around our little Norcold RV freezer for over a thousand miles. It was noticeably banged up, but still mostly intact. I photoshopped the worst parts of the package. Did anybody notice?

Nope? Good. 

"So why review this product now?" you wonder. Well, Valentine's Day (VD) is right around the corner, and this is among the items that Trader Joe's is promoting as a VD treat. Now that I've tried it, not only will I not argue with that assertion, I'll wholeheartedly plug this dessert as an ideal gift for your sweetheart.

If your significant other is a chocolate person, but you don't want to go that same old, tired "box of chocolates" route, this is a great alternative. It's bursting with rich dark-ish chocolate taste, but it's also got flaky, buttery crust, almonds, and a delicious, creamy frangipane—reminiscent of amaretto. I don't often read the individual product write-ups on traderjoes.com because they tend to influence my opinions and scores, but I love the description of this dessert on Trader Joe's own website—particularly the line that calls it a "gorgeous, Paris-pâtisserie-worthy pastry." Couldn't have said it better myself.

It's a top-shelf quality product that's almondy, chocolatey, creamy, and bready. I'd buy it again for VD or any special occasion—or just dessert on an ordinary day. Pleasant surprise with this one. Put us down for four stars a piece.  

Brie, turkey, and now chocolate. What will TJ's stick in a pastry crust next? Mango? Cookie butter? Coffee? Your guess is as good as mine.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.