Trader Joe's Apple Pie Cheddar Cheese

There's a part of me that would like to take this opportunity to make my annual anti-pumpkin spice rant. It's that time of year, as Nathan started out last week, and as one Facebook fan put it, time for "white girls (to) rejoice!", and as we were quick to add, also white guys comfortable with their masculinity. What a little of sprinkling of nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves has to do with given personal identity characteristics, I don't know, but...I'm not a fan. The "pumpkin spice everything" trend is far too ubiquitous, far too obnoxious, far too usurping of many other great fall flavors. It takes something rather special to really impress me in the pumpkin spice regard, so it's possible, but far too many items fall short. Pumpkin spice latte? I've rather have nutmegged toilet water, thank you.

On the other hand...apples. Apple crisp. Apple cider. Applesauce. Apple pie. Now that's something to get behind. Especially apple pie, cuz I'm 'murican, dangit. Forget any other political attack ad going on right now, if an ad came out that a politician didn't like apple pie, they'd lose my vote. Now, I've heard that adding a slice of cheddar cheese to apple pie makes it even better...I've never tried. Either it's my mom's or sister's apple pie, which is absolutely perfect as is, or if I'm need of dairy sidekick, I'd choose vanilla ice cream.

So Trader Joe's Apple Pie Cheddar Cheese is my first foray into crossing these two flavor streams. I know, I probably haven't lived...sorry. Same for Sandy. At least we were both super eager to give a chunk a whirl, even with its slightly-high-for-TJ's price of $10 a pound.

It's...interesting, to say the least. First of all, it's pretty strongly applicious. How can one up the applicity factor of an average apple? Boil in apple cider! Infuise more apple! Stat! I can't quite tell the type of apple used, but I'd guess something in the MacIntosh-type range - strong, yet not overly sweet nor tart. There's also enough presence for the typical pie spices like cinnamon and nutmeg that give it a pie-like vibe. The little tidbits of dried apple add a little taste and textural variant. Nothing wrong on the apple front.

I guess where it gets a little weird is the cheese. In of itself, it's a decent cheddar - soft, mild, not overly sharp, but rather salty. Must be that sodium that, to me, creates a little flavor friction. Salt and apples don't go together all that well, IMHO. I mean, it's not awful...I kinda like the creaminess of the cheese paired with the apples - but the salt, instead of accentuating the overall flavor, kinda muddies it up instead.

Also, if it's apple pie cheese, where's the pie crust tidbits? There's none, and that coulda been fun. I guess "apple pie cheddar" sounds nicer than "fancy applesauce cheddar." Meh.

We're kinda split here - not terrific, not awful, and certainly more successful than previous TJ cheddar mash-ups. Sandy's not entirely sure of what to make of it, except she'll reserve further judgment until trying out a grilled cheese with it. She went right down the middle with a 2.5. It's worthy of higher marks than that in my book, but I can't get over the salt - a few small bites left me in want of a tall glass of water. Heck, I'd even drink a pumpkin spice latte if it were close by just to help. I can't go higher than 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Apple Pie Cheddar Cheese: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Chai & Almond Bar

No, I didn't crop the picture a little too close or accidentally leave out a letter in this product title. I also had to correct Sandy a couple times too, despite her usually being a stickler about such things. The state forest near her alma mater of Clarion University is Cook Forest, and if you call it Cook's...*guh*. Shudder. Brace yourself.

So when she started calling this product Trader Joe's Chocolate Chai & Almond Bark, I had to give it to her back. "Look! There's no 'k'! It's just a bar! C'mon! Jeez! Get with it! Ugh!"

Turnaround is fair play. It can also put a damper on the one night of the week that the mom-in-law's out of the house, after the kids go to bed, when you get to have some quality adult time doing adult things...like drinking beer and playing mancala.

Anyways, no "k." It's just bar. Doesn't matter that it looks like a bark, eats like a bark, barks like a bark...it's just Trader Joe's Chocolate Chai & Almond Bar. Bars can be square, I guess.

Dang tasty bar. Just look at how gorgeous it is - a thick, milk chocolate base, with some darker chocolate marbled up on top, with full roasted almond nestled in fairly amply - very few bites without. By myself, I wouldn't have thought of infusing chai tea with chocolate - but it definitely works here, in a way I can't quite explain. It's there, and very present, but as pleasant accompaniment and not a dominant flavor. It's well balanced with the milder milk chocolate, while still accentuated by the dark, with the almond adding a roasted earthy bite. Well done.

And as I said, it's thick. Thicker than a normal chocolate bar, for sure. Sometimes, chocolate with this kinda girth can be hard to gnaw through, but that's not the case. Our teeth glided through each bite, with the only interruption being one of those tasty nuts. A tougher bite would have killed any goodwill with this bar, so thank goodness TJ's got this right.

Sandy and I gulped down the whole bar over a few games, with the last bite being wagered on who won a particular round...I lost :(. She's the one who found it on a solo shopping trip and couldn't recall the price...$3? $4? Whatever it was, it's worth it. Will definitely buy again...and again.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Chai & Almond Bar: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Spice Caramel Corn

Labor Day is usually considered the cultural end to summer here in the US. School starts, summer schedules end, and most folks have taken whatever summer vacations they're going to take. The technical, astronomical end of summer is most definitely the autumnal equinox, this year falling on September 22. 

But personally, I consider fall officially underway when two things have happened: I've consumed a new pumpkin or pumpkin spice product from Trader Joe's, and the weather gets a little cooler. After a high of 92 degrees yesterday, yet a high of only 78 degrees today here in South Jersey, I'd say there's been a marked shift in air temps. That's not to say there won't be a few more warm days ahead, but for the most part, it's time to wear heavier clothing—both to keep warm, and to cover up the extra pounds I'll gain sampling most of the 60+ new and old seasonal pumpkin products arriving at TJ's.

As for our first new pumpkin product of the season? We're off to a pretty good start. 

Highly reminiscent in appearance and texture to June's Mango Coconut Caramel Corn, this is TJ's fall-themed follow-up to that summery treat. We enjoyed that previous product quite a bit, as did most of our readers. It's still crispy, crunchy caramel corn—not too waxy or stiff. But this version has a few tricks up its sleeve.

First, the taste is nice. The pumpkin spice flavor is there, but errs on the side of subtlety. It's sweet more than spicy, and slightly more caramel than pumpkin, I'd say. Pumpkin seeds add a nice nuttiness to the product and blend well with the salty aspects of the corn. 

The packaging alleges there are walnuts in this product, but neither Sonia nor I have seen much of them. I do think I've tasted hints of walnut from time to time. Maybe the walnuts are crushed into tiny bits and have simply eluded identification thus far. Or perhaps these reclusive nuts have congregated at the bottom of the bag. We'll let you know when we get there. (You won't have to wait long.) 

Rather than floating freely, the pumpkin seeds are "glued" to the corn pieces with sugar and caramel, so you don't need to worry about mixing seeds in with your mouthfuls of caramel corn in incorrect ratios. Trader Joe's has already measured them out for you, and they did a pretty good job of it in my estimation.

All in all, it's a well-balanced flavor. If anything, Sonia and I think it could use just a tad more pumpkin spice taste, but we won't complain about it as is. Double fours on this product, and happy fall to all of you.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Coffee Mochi

Trader Joe's can and will turn anything into a mochi ice cream flavor—from basic flavors like chocolate to double mango to pumpkin pie, we've seen them run the gamut. We haven't seen mushroom mochi ice cream yet, but just to be clear, we're not asking for it, Big Joe. Not at all. Cookie butter mochi, on the other hand...

Now let's shift gears and focus on the product at hand, shall we? My major problem with this mochi is the same problem I have with traditional coffee ice cream: it actually tastes like coffee. I mean sure, it's kinda sweet and creamy, but the overwhelming flavor is that of dark, earthy coffee beans. I'll drink coffee, if I must, for its caffeine content, but I much prefer energy drinks (ones without high fructose corn syrup) for my morning wake-up beverage. Among coffee drinkers, that fact generally arouses suspicion, outrage, and indignation. Why would a non-coffee-drinker even review a coffee-flavored product?

Because I'll defer to my coffee-appreciating wife's opinion on this one. She liked these a lot. The texture is just like any other mochi we've reviewed: a soft, chewy, rice-based shell, a layer of smooth, cold ice cream below that, and similar to the aforementioned mango mango mochi, there's a glob of liquidy goo in the middle. I personally didn't feel like the "saucy mocha center" added much, but Sonia thought it added a nice rich flavor and extra creaminess to the product.

She loved the taste of this product because she loves the taste of coffee. The flavor of the mocha filling reminded her of Original Roast Coffee Rio Candy, which is apparently sold at some Trader Joe's locations.

Even though I didn't appreciate the taste quite as much as my better half, we do agree on one thing: this mochi is rich and intense enough that just one or two pieces at a time is more than sufficient for one sitting. Sonia gives this product four stars. My disdain for coffee might have led me to give this product a fairly low score, but I did say I'd defer to my wife on this one, for the benefit of all you sophisticated coffee connoisseurs...so I'll go with three and a half to make sure this falls squarely in our "really darn good" category.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 3 Cheese Wafers

Holy Eucharist. The Lord's Supper. Body of Christ shed for you. "Thin & crisp for cheese & snacking..." and maybe for Holy Communion as well.

The only thing about these crackers that doesn't scream "communion wafers" is the very faint cheese flavor. And honestly, I'd be surprised if there isn't at least one church using these during worship services somewhere in this country. I've seen everything from homemade white bread to animal crackers serve as altar bread—and at least one group thought of using Doritos for a similar purpose. 

Apparently, the three cheeses present here are cheddar, parmesan, and mozzarella. But the three titles that come to mind when eating these crispy critters are "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

Sonia was raised Roman Catholic, and I was raised Lutheran, or "White Catholic," as we're known in certain Latino circles, so it's really hard not to think of those bland yet sacred discs of...I-don't-know-what that we had when we partook of that blessed sacrament. Even the little raised pattern on these crackers is reminiscent of what we both remember. TJ's version displays little triangles all over them, which arguably could represent the Holy Trinity.

Texture-wise, again, I almost feel silly saying it, but they're exactly like communion wafers. I would have guessed that the ones I grew up with were rice-based, although these crackers are apparently made with wheat flour. They're very soft, yet brittle and crispy, and they melt in your mouth quite quickly.

Flavor-wise, I mentioned there is only a subtle hint of cheese flavor in my opinion. They're virtually flavorless by themselves. I felt that they went well with the recently-reviewed Jalapeño and Honey Chevre, but only because they didn't try to compete with the amazing flavor of that cheese. On their own, as a snack, these crackers aren't much to speak of. The three distinct cheese flavors are so subtle that you have to have a bit of faith to believe they're really there.

I'm tempted to leave you with some play on scripture that starts, "As often as you eat these crackers, eat them in remembrance of me," or something like that, but even though I'm not as churchy as I used to be, I'm still not a huge fan of blasphemy in all its colorful modern forms, so I'll steer clear of such wordplay out of respect for the Big Guy. No, not Big Joe. The other big guy.

Four stars from Sonia, who's anxious to try these in a big bowl of tomato soup. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs

There's really not a whole lot to Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs. Nothing added or subtracted, but simply a fig, partially dried, and frozen. That's it. That could be the end of the review pretty much right there. But that's not how we roll...because while they do "taste...similar to fresh fruit" they do feel a little different. Had to leave out the "amazingly" because that's a bit too strong of a statement.

Anyways, if you're already familiar with their tried and true semi-dried formula first tested out on apricots, you can expect something similar here.  Those particular fruity tidbits have become a family snacktime favorite around here for 75% of our clan - I don't care about them one way or another, but Sandy, and particularly the kids, can polish off a bag for lunch. In fact, it was those apricots we were looking for when we found the figs and figured to assess them instead.

For taste...yes,  a fig. What we you expecting, a rutabaga? Tastes like a fig. The feel, though? I'm a dried fig aficianado - everytime we go to Costco I need to get me a bag, it lasts me maybe 10 days. I'd say these are much more similar to fresh figs, except I had those recently...too soft, too fleshy, too wiggly, too...I don't even know the word. That was another Costco purchase, and we made our way through the Montana-sized package, but with much less gusto. So I guess these fall fairly squarely in the middle. There's not the tough, chewy, fibrous bite of dried, but not the super soft mouthfeel of fresh. The seeds maintain their crispy qualities as well for a nice textural variant.

Sandy prefers these semi-dried guys straight from the freezer, because she's a little odd, but even when thawed a bit they retain a lot of their middlin' qualities. The kids seem to like them to, maybe not as much as the apricots, but their little chompers have less work to do than with dried, and I couldn't get them (or Sandy) to eat their fair share of fresh. Not a bad purchase for $2.99, we bought two bags and will happily finish them and likely go back for more.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Semi Dried Green Figs: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops

"Meh, these taste like Smarties" Sandy said after crunching through her first mouthful.

Wait...what?

Smarties?

Those cellophane-wrapped chalky straps of crunchified sugar, that parade candy classic, that stuffer of all things pinata, that cheap neighbor Halloween pass out? Those Smarties? How in the world do Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops taste like that? You crazy?

"No...the other Smarties...you know...the European ones...c'mon now...seriously? Never heard of them? What kind of food blogger are you anyways?" she stated with that slightly smug worldly glance that reflected very nicely off my blank stare.

I am a very 'murican amateur hack foodie, never been shy about it either.

So the natural thing would be to compare these TJ candies to the ubiquitous melt-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hand empire out there, which I for one have not only heard of but also have sampled of multiple times. To be honest, the first go-around I had with these choco-drops kinda tasted more or less like those to me, close enough for government work. But I have a tendency to inhale and not really taste chocolate, so on a second pickup (courtesy of a coworker who didn't like them), I decided to actually slow down and try to taste.

Aha. There are a few small differences. The chocolate here seems slightly sugarier and as a result a little less "intense" (such a relative term for milk chocolate) than the nationally known. It also seems maybe a tad bit creamier too. And the candy shells - I swear, they seem not exactly tougher but perhaps crispier, so a slight different mouthfeel to them.

Obviously there are also the different colors too - the somewhat muted purple and green and yellow and orange and whatnot. No Red 40 or Blue 82 or whatever here, folks. Naturally colored! With things like spuirilina (which is a health superfood in some circles) and beets and whatnot - hey, does that make this a chocolate salad? Kind of? No? Well, I'll settle for the no artificial colors - can't hurt, might help.

These choc drops are good, not great, but worth a pick up here or there if having a easily transportable choco supply on hand is an attractive idea to you. Certainly is to me. The half pound sack cost only about $3 if I recall right, so not a bad price. Sandy was happy enough with them, and she says they taste like those fancy Euro imports, than so be it. Although she said she likes the most famous brand more...USA! USA! USA! Sorry, Olympics over, still decompressing. Matching 3.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Raises the Bar

The birds here in our neighborhood are absolutely ravenous for birdseed. They can clear out our moderately-sized feeder in a single day. It's mostly finches, chickadees, and sparrows—and of course, those ugly, ubiquitous grackles. The squirrels would normally be a problem, too, but the birds eat up the food so quickly that the bushy-tailed, tree-dwelling rodents often don't even get a crack at raiding the feeder before it's empty.

In light of all that, it's pretty obvious that our backyard buddies would love a shot at one of these birdseed bars. It would be gone in minutes, maybe seconds. I'm not sure how good tapioca syrup, cane sugar, and maple syrup are for birds, but I am sure they'd happily deal with the consequences for just a taste of all those yummy seeds and grains.

Channeling her inner-bird, Sonia, too, makes short work of these Raises the Bar bars. I liked them okay, but I think I've had too many other granola bar type selections from Trader Joe's that I liked the taste of better. The Fruit and Nut Trek Mix Bars come to mind—and the much more recently-reviewed Organic Chia Bars do as well.

Appearance-wise, Raises the Bar are very similar to the chia bars but are square, rather than rectangular. There are bunches of seeds and tiny ingredients all smooshed together, united by the aforementioned syrups and honey. The base is most definitely oats, and accordingly, they taste quite "oaty." They're also very mapley, with a significant sunflower component as well.

They're chock full of whole grains and are conveniently individually-wrapped. Five bars for $2.79 makes this a pretty decent value, too. If you're looking for a super simple breakfast option or even just an easy afternoon snack, these bars are worth a purchase. In the end, it all comes down to taste, and Sonia just appreciated these a bit more than I did. Four and a half stars from her. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pinks & Whites

"Pinks & Whites" sounds like something you might read on the front door of a racist establishment. The "whites" would obviously be, you know, normal Caucasian folk. And the "pinks" would be, well...people like me. And Jim Gaffigan. And possibly Russ, too. You know, gingers. People like poor Sonia would walk up to the door and the xenophobic host would say, "Sorry, ma'am. Pinks and Whites only," gesturing to the sign on the door.

But make no mistake: these pink and white cookies are intended for all colors and ethnicities, even in these times of high racial tension. These flower-shaped snacks are all-inclusive. Well, except maybe for the gluten-intolerant. And the lactose-intolerant (yogurt coating is the number one ingredient). And those with allergies to soy, egg, peanut, or coconut. And vegans.

But other than those unlucky folks, these cookies are super-unifying and good at bringing people together. Because they flaunt a delicate shortbread taste, a milky-sweet frosting, and a generous amount of happy, colorful sprinkles that just about anyone can enjoy. They made Sonia and I feel like kids again.

Because we both had ginormous bags of pink and white cookies when we were young—except they were animal-shaped back then. No, not Barnum's Animals. They were Mother's. No, not my mother's. Ha! My mother never baked anything in her life. Mother's brand. Apparently, they're still on the market. 

A quick glance at TJ's ingredients versus Mother's ingredients reveals that Trader Joe's is once again far less deadly. Mother's infused a little vitamin B into their cookies to make them seem healthy. I mean, B1 and B2 can't hurt, but they probably won't offset the hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup they snuck in there too. Jeez.

At any rate, the Trader Joe's version tastes just as good as, if not a little better than, those old-school animal cookies. Buttery, sweet, and highly-snackable, they're everything you've ever wanted in a yogurt-coated shortbread cookie. Both Sonia and I wish these had been around when we were kids. 

Truth be told, I'm not often in the mood for such cookies these days, but since they're as good as this kind of cookie gets, I can't go lower than three and a half stars. Sonia will give them an even four.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins

Nothing chocolate is safe in my house.

Oh, it's safe from the kids. As much as the girls love their "CHAAWWK-let" (as they say), we can more or less control their intake because we have longer limbs and defter hiding skills than them.

And it's safe from Sandy, too - she has the self control of a meditative master. That, coupled with this odd capacity to just hold on and on to snacks and whatnot until she is "fully ready to enjoy that snack" (whatever that means), results in her still having Easter candy from five years ago. How you gonna like that Peep now?

So, it's me. I'm the threat. Not sure what it is, but pretty much always (and in some ways in an even more acute sense over the past few months, I've wanted chocolate. It's some kinda odd man-craving. That sounds awkward. Anyways, because of this, and because we bought this right before Sandy and the kids were out for a week visiting my folks, Sandy ought to be proud of me that I didn't touch "her" Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins once  while she was gone.

Once this got opened, though? She'd be less proud then for sure.

Listen: it's not my fault. These bark thins aren't particularly fancy, but they make a pretty darn good little chocolate snack. Somehow we neglected to snap a pic of them, but if you ready the description on the front of the package, it explains exactly what they look like: odd sized and shaped shards of this 65% dark chocolate (tastes like the typical TJ dark choc variety) with some little teeny almond bits in here and there to add a little texture and crunch. By "thin", they absolutely are - no more than a few millimeters, to about the point wherre any thinner would call the structural integrity into question.

As could be reasonably expected, the dark chocolate and almonds pair well together, with the salt being a nice little touch. So nothing unexpected one way or another...except there does seem to be a little something extra. I think it's the thinness adding an extra snacky element. A regular chocolate bar would be a veritable slab requiring lots of commitment compared to a few wedges of this treat. For a quick sneaky hit of chocolate here or there, a little piece or two of this bark hits the spot, more so than a Hershey kiss to me.

It's a pretty good little pickup for the $4-ish it set us back. With a little control, the tub lasted us a few days of us both grabbing a piece here or there. Sandy only had to smack my hands away one or three times. As stated, nothing fancy or twisty or unexpected, but a smidge more snacktacular than anticipated. Matching fours. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips

Everything changed the day I discovered...

...I'd be a dad.

...that there is such thing as playing Pearl Jam too loud while in my car by myself.

...that the lead singer of Hanson was a guy. That made for awkward teenage feelings.

...Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips? Hardly, no matter what that crazy pseudo-lepruachaun ginger-mopped lookin' doofus says on the package. I can only say that because I'm sure similar pictures exist of me growing up. See "awkward teenager" comment above.

But I sure as heck discovered one heckuva interesting chip.

To get it out of the way, kettle chips are my go-to chip choice. I may have an occasional fling with lattice cut, and don't get me started on baked varieties (stale Styrofoam, anyone?), but kettle cooked? With the super-extra-crunchilicious hearty bite? Yes, no doubt, and as would be expected, these are spot on.

As for flavor, though? Hmm. They're tough to quantify. The chips taste more than "somewhat" spicy, but it could be all the pickle flavor amplifying the spices (not exactly stated on the ingredients, but presuming cayenne and garlic). There's an odd mingling interplay between the spice and the picklish bite, that's tough to draw a line between. So here's a new word. Spicy + pickley = spickley. That's not to say it's a completely seemless taste - there is some differentation - but where exactly is a good question. I can't make quite make it out after repeat tastings.

In some ways, the chips taste like barbeque chips crossed with salt and vinegar ones with dill weed on the outside for a distinctive pickle flair. That "awkward teenager" that still exists inside of me wanted to crack up at that last sentence. But it's there. There's some heat, with a pickle twist, for a taste that lingers on for quite a bit afterwards. It'll make your breath reek, for sure.

Both Sandy and I tend to enjoy them, although I'm still confounded by them. it doesn't help that Sandy thinks the chips could be a lot more picklicious. "they're more spicy than anything," she said. I don't entirely agree, but don't know how to counter in a productive manner either. Eh, here's to somethfing we can enjoy together enough. Neither one of us recall the price offhand but they're in the typical price range of $2 or $3 a bag. She likes them a little more than I, and she gave a four, so I'll go a small step behind.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips: 7-5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

  

Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn

I wish I had something intelligent to say about Indian cinema and all the Bollywood classics that I'm sure exist. I simply don't. Closest I come is being able to say I was in the same room once or twice when Sandy was watching "Bend It Like Beckham" (I was probably writing a half-witted review, much like this one). And how representative that particular movie is of most Bollywood fare...I have no idea, because I don't know any better.

And I won't admit to knowing much about Indian cuisine, either. Most (okay, all) of my exposure has been either at Indian restaurants or the frozen food aisle at Trader Joe's, and how authentic that experience really is...I don't know, either.

But I can say I've eaten a lot of popcorn, and that whenever I've had any version of tikka masala I've loved it. Finally, those two classics have come together in Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn.

Ripping open our bag took some persistence and care. It probably didn't help we were pretty eager to chomp some down for a night of Olympics watching...but this was a tough bag to crack, to balance the force necessary without causing a popcorn micro-supernova. The payoff, though, was amazing - a big, aromatic cloud of cloves and cumin and garam masala, which quickly laid to rest how potent the seasoning might be on a simple popcorn base.

Potent is an understatement. My goodness. The best way I can explain it is a "happy heat." If you're a tikka masala fan at all, you know what I mean - it builds slowly but surely, with a lot of warmth, and it just lingers on and on, but it's never overbearing. I'm kind of amazed it comes from popcorn and not an actual dish with chicken or paneer and rice.

Combine all that with perfectly munchable popcorn kernels - solid, fluffy, crunchy, well popped, without many (if any) widows. It's a perfect snack. And it's been a long, long time since we've done this, but Sandy and I housed the entire bag in about an hour's time - that's what we get for keeping it within reach on the couch. And for once I can claim we were equally guilty.

To be honest, I'm trying really hard to think of anything even remotely critical to say about this popcorn, and I'm coming up empty. No deductions at all from these two American judges. And only $1.99. Perfect 10.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Salted Caramel Coconut Cookies

Although the What's Good at TJ's team has seen one or two coconut macaroon offerings before, we've seen a whole slew of salted caramel or "sea salt and caramel" products. I'd say it's getting up there with cookie butter, mango, and pumpkin spice in terms of what I'll call Trader Joe's brand "identity flavors."

And it's great to have these "safe" stand-by type flavors always around—ones you know TJ's routinely gets right. But I personally feel like it gets harder and harder to impress me with the same flavors over and over again. I'd rather see something bizarre, even if it's a little risky. 

And I know it's a completely different medium and has nothing to do with what I'm talking about here, but it's the same principle that makes Stranger Things a superior production to Fuller House in every way (even though Netflix knew I was going to watch each and every episode of that zany Tanner family like I did circa 1990). So logically, as Netflix and Trader Joe's are both well aware, the best course of action is to offer safeness and weirdness side by side.

Predictably, I gobbled up a couple of these cookies right after unboxing them. They're good. They're moist, coconutty, and sweet. There's a significant glob of caramel right in the center of each cookie, and it adds a nice extra bit of creamy texture to the coconut shavings, but I'd still say the "salted caramel" flavor is wanting. Sonia agrees. She tasted very little caramel, and insists that there was practically no salty flavor at all. Maybe we're being picky...or maybe that salted caramel bar is just too high for us now.

More impressed with the coconut macaroon part of the cookies than I was, Sonia says she would buy these again. I, personally, wouldn't. I don't regret buying this box, however, and I'd recommend coconut macaroon fans check them out. I'm in for three stars on this one. Put Sonia down for four.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit

As will be discussed in an upcoming podcast, there's something so great about snacks in plastic tubs. I love the act of opening them - especially removing that shrinkwrapped plastic ring that holds the lid on. I have no idea why that is, but in some ways, I guess it feels like opening a present, except since it's a clear plastic tub, you already know it's going to be good (or so you hope). I like the little plasticky sounds and all. Okay, I'm weird.

Also speaking of podcasts and having no idea...my laptop sat around untouched all day long. Why it decided to automatically and without warning launch into some hours-long Windows 10-related update literally 30 seconds before Nathan, Sonia, Grand Master Marvo, and I were going to record last night is beyond me. I mean, it was doing nothing all day - why then? Sorry about that, we should have our next episode of Let's Talk TJ's later on next week now because of those shenanigans.

But back to the matter at hand - this time around, Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit. C'mon, this looks like fun - there's the different sized food marbles, in different colors, with different fruits. Opening up the package not only had all the usual tub-popping satisfaction, but also made a huge waft of chocolate came up and smack me in the nostrils. This was going to be fun.

In case you're like me and want to know which colors are which right away, the pinkish ones are the cherries, whitish are strawberries, grayish/purplish are blueberries, and the orangish/tannish are the apricots. There's an -ish for each color, because much to TJ's props, these candies are naturally colored with things like beet juice. Much better than artificial colors, if you ask me, even if the tradeoff is less vibrant coloration. It's not like they affect the flavor anyways.

What does alter the flavor, though, is the composition of those coatings. I expected the usual M&M-y candy shellac, straight into chocolate with a fruit coat. That's not quite right. Instead there's about a few hairs-thick coat of softer white chocolate, before hitting into the dark chocolate. It's kinda offputting. At first I thought maybe it was one of those yogurt-kinda layers, because as compared to the dark chocolate, that's almost what it tastes like - kinda two ends of the spectrum being put right together.

Other than that, the experience is what's to be expected. the cherries and strawberries pop out more in their respective flavors, the blueberries are representative enough, but the apricots? Good idea, I like the theory, but I wouldn't have guessed apricot if I weren't told that's what in there. Instead, it just feels like a dried, chewy, semi-chalky center that gets overpowered by the chocolate. All the other fruits taste they way they ought, with that similar kinda feel.

Anyways, I will say these choco-fruity tidbits definitely hit more of a chocolate spot than a fruit one if you're looking for that brand of sweetness. There's nothing terribly wondrous about them, nothing overly bad either - just curious with that white chocolate layer if you ask me. I snuck 'em into work without Sandy having a chance to try them, so I shared them with a co-worker or two, and got a mostly satisfied "meh" in return. They're deserving of slightly better and to me rank as a fairly solid "not bad."

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Dried Fruit: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies

Ever have something that's good in it's own right ruin something else that's perfectly good?

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a great example of this. Must be my lack of imagination, or the heat getting to my brain - I mean, dangit, it's hot. But this has to be a thing...right? Maybe this is somewhat vaguely related to my chocolate gum/Bowie-Jagger theory that two things that are good separately aren't good when put together.

If you can think of any great examples, please, by all means, fire away.

For some fairly weak evidence, I'll put out there Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies.

Blueberries, even dried ones = yum. Cookies - obviously great. Even better when they're soft, crumbly, buttery, melt in your mouth shortbread ones, perfect for pairing with any variety of beverages. I love shortbread cookies. This can't fail...

It doesn't. But these cookies don't entirely succeed either. The taste is right. That aforementioned buttery shortbread is spot on, and the poppy seeds don't seem to add much one way or another (unlike those blueberry digestive biscuits a little while back). The blueberries seem right too, and while certainly sweet with enough added sugar in all sorts of various forms, the cookies seem to be right in line flavor wise.

Really, it's the texture. It's so disappointing when the chompers actually hit a blueberry, because it gums up an otherwise perfectly crumbly bite. It's a chewy interruption. Perhaps some other form of blueberry would be more ideal, or heck, even some blueberry extract...but as is? Not a huge fan. Oh well.

Otherwise these bite-sized berry buggers are pretty tasty - we'll happily eat them up, and could be persuaded to buy again for the few bucks they set us back. Purely on taste, they're nearly perfect - but again, so disappointing when striking that berry. Probably more than it should be since the cookies are so good otherwise. Life is hard, I guess.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Poppy Seed Cookies: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sweetened Dried Orange Slices

We've seen plenty of zombified fruits from Trader Joe's before: apples, bananas, baby bananas, and even other oranges. For the most part, I think those dried fruit snacks have been successful. They're sweet enough to be desserty, but natural enough not to wreck most diets. In all those previous cases, they seemed to capture the innate essence of the fruit and candy-ify it—in some cases without even adding any sugar.

Not only is there plenty of sugar here, but these don't really taste like oranges. I mean, I know they're made of orange slices. And they're definitely citrusy. But I think what throws me off is that they left the rind on. And I've mentioned before that I'm not huge into eating orange peels. I don't know many people who are. 

Perhaps there's a reason why Trader Joe's suggests you do things with this product other than eat it. The back of the packaging recommends using them as garnish on cocktails or as decorations for cakes and cookie platters. On that front, I can't really argue with them. Orange is my favorite color, and I've never minded splashes of it here and there. The write-up on the wrapper also insists that you can consume the attractive little slices, but it does so quite unconvincingly. "This stuff's non-toxic, we promise!"*

Once opened, the package gives off a bizarre fermented fragrance—not unlike what I'd imagine marmalade left in the sun might smell like after a day or so. The taste is a little more pleasant than the aroma in my opinion, but again, the bitterness of the rind spoils a good bit of the sweet flavor of the fruit itself. The slices are sticky with sugar, somewhat difficult to chew, and bits of the candied fruit cling tenaciously to your teeth once you've begun masticating.

Orange is the new blecch!

Sonia was even more repulsed than I was. She literally exclaimed, "Oh God! That's awful!" upon first bite. I think this is her first time giving ZERO stars to a product. I'll give them a generous one and a half, mostly for their decorative value. This might be a return here. Or we might throw a cocktail party and put them to use as garnish, as mentioned above. If the drinks are strong enough, some of our guests might even get crazy enough to eat them.

Bottom line: 1.5 out of 10.

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*That's not actually written on the packaging.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Mini Cupcakes

We've already seen TJ's knock gluten-free cupcakes out of the park. And this review is here to confirm that, yes, they've absolutely done it again. In fact, I know they have other varieties of GF cupcakes, and I've never heard anyone complain about them at all. Ever.

I read an article not long ago that scientists have found a way to make better gluten free flour. I'm wondering if these cupcakes are the result of said scientific breakthrough. Because I didn't miss the gluten at all. Maybe we just got a super-freshly-baked batch, but if anything, the bread part of the cupcake was more moist and more delicious than a normal cupcake.

The frosting was on point, as well. Sonia absolutely raved about it. It was slightly more in the direction of traditional frosting than the frosting on the Buttercream Cupcakes we linked to in the first paragraph. But this stuff wasn't stiff like cupcakes from a traditional grocery store bakery. It felt and tasted fluffy and whipped, with a really nice sweet, creamy flavor.

As has been the case with a few TJ's products in the past, I was significantly more enamored with the vanilla flavor than I was with the chocolate, although the chocolate was nothing to complain about. I'm not a vanilla supremacist. I swear. I just really want sweetness without as much richness sometimes.

Two thumbs up from Sonia and I. Double fours.

If you're interested in the nutrition facts, just click here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mango Taffy

Sonia and I have made it to campgrounds in the Jersey Shore area a couple times this year, but we haven't spent much time on the beach or on the boardwalk, and thus, we haven't really indulged in the official state candy of New Jersey recently. In lieu of said saltwater taffy, we picked up this mango stuff from TJ's. It's not bad. In fact, I think both of us would choose it over most brands of saltwater taffy we've tried. Granted, we're not huge into taffy in general, but we've had enough to know decent taffy when we taste it. 

The first thing that jumps out at me about this candy is how incredibly soft it is. Oh, wait. That's probably just the near 100 degree temperatures and ridiculous humidity making it extra squishy. Somehow, it works, though. It's still solid enough that you can slurp it off the wax paper wrapping in one piece. We cranked the AC for a while and found an unusually solid specimen for the pic on the right.

Now, I might be alone here, but I swear there's this moment while I'm eating the taffy where it feels like it's not going to dissolve properly in my mouth. It seems to display the physical properties of chewing gum for a few brief moments and my gag reflex wants to kick in. But before it does, the taffy finally thins and magically deliquesces down my throat and into my belly.

Flavor-wise, it's a sugary, yet natural-ish kind of mango flavor—not quite like the actual fruit, although there is "mango juice concentrate" listed in the ingredients—but similar to what you might expect from mango gummies or mango sorbet. It's a candied mango kind of taste—very pleasant if you enjoy mango-flavored things.

In most cases, this would not be my dessert of choice, just because I'm rarely in the mood for taffy. But as taffy goes, I must admit it meets, if not exceeds, my expectations. Three and a half from me. Sonia, also not really a taffy girl, was even more impressed. Four from her.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mango & Strawberry Flatbread

Well since Mr. Shelly is retiring from the wonderful world of mango product reviews, I guess it's up to me to keep the mango insanity astir on this blog. And even under threat of home invasion and sedation, that mango cookie butter is MINE! You'll never get within a hundred feet of our house without our Alfred and Sadie-driven home security system barking us awake, Russ. NEVER!

Be that as it may, I'm sure that yet another mango review is not only encouraging Big Joe to make more of these mango products, but it's also annoying the heck out of half of our readers. (Please see survey at the bottom of this review.) But honestly, I think this product is worth a looksee. It's a complicated product, far more sophisticated than most of the mango offerings we've seen this past month or so.

First of all, we have to be familiar with the Law of Balsamic Reduction. It states that "any rectangular flatbread with balsamic drizzle can be reduced into exactly five smaller rectangular flatbreads with sides exactly one fifth the size of the original rectangle, but despite maintaining the same side to side ratio, all toppings, including balsamic reduction drizzle, shall be unevenly distributed across said flatbreads." In layman's terms, this means that once cut into smaller slices, some pieces of flatbread will have tons of toppings and others will have very little—specifically, the end pieces will have an unfavorable bread to topping ratio.

Never has the Law of Balsamic Reduction been more apparent than with this ambitious attempt at a gourmet appetizer. Nevertheless, the center pieces of our flatbread came out quite tasty, in my opinion, flaunting two delicious fruits, wilted arugula, and varying amounts of the aforementioned sweet balsamic reduction drizzle. Sonia thinks the mango and balsamic together resulted in a taste too intense for her tongue. She doesn't think they clashed exactly—she just thinks one or the other would have provided adequate sweetness and that both together was overkill. I'll agree that they were both quite sweet, but they were two very different kinds of sweet, if that makes sense. 

It's definitely a roller coaster ride for the taste buds, but you know, every once in a while, I really like to take my tongue on the big boy rides.

If you're open to a suave kind of sweetness, I recommend this product wholeheartedly. My biggest complaints would be that there weren't nearly enough strawberries and that the toppings were unevenly distributed. The balsamic reduction sauce did come in a separate packet that I put on myself, so I guess if that was unevenly distributed, I only have myself to blame.

I give this product four and a half stars. Sonia will only spring for three.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

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