Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers

My wife doesn't always believe everything I tell her.

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a concise, simple example of this that I'm openly willing to share. And I'm not talking about a nefarious, relationship-straining kinda doubt. It's more the "have to hear it from someone else" kinda deal. In all, it's pretty harmless, and it's never been over something too deeply serious.

I'm gonna use Trader Joe's Crwamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers for an theoretical example, actually.

This actually didn't occur this way...but if I were somehow to get my hands on a boxful and try them out before she would, and told her that they taste like pizza, she'd probably be reluctant to try and may not even. She's not a tomato fan at all, and abhor tomato soup, so this is a product that would take some convincing for her to try.

But, I guess these soup-flavored crackers made their way on a TJ's fan page somewhere, where a few people all said "These crackers taste like pizza!" and so with that, she made sure to get them, probably mostly for a snack for our tomato soup lovin' girls, but she was pretty pumped to give them a try without any prodding from me.

I disagree, though. These crackers do NOT taste like pizza.

Sure, there's a vague similarity. The earthy soup flavors with a zesty spice flair (pepper, garlic, etc) could be construed as marinara-esque. I didn't pick up on it much, but folks with more attuned taste buds *might* be able to pick up on the asiago cheese. Primarily composed of rice flour, these crackers are light and ultra crispy with a sizable crunch, with the bonus of being gluten free.

But like pizza? Nah, not quite...it's something else...

Pizza Combo filling.

Obviously, in a different form and all, but to me, the similarity is there. Well, maybe less salty. But everything else? Yup. I'm not talking about the pretzel tube part or whatever else, but just the filling in the middle. Tomatoey with generic spice and a hint of cheese. It's there, and it's not necessarily bad, but if these crackers taste like pizza Combos, but if pizza Combos really don't taste all that much like pizza, the transitive property states that these crackers don't taste like pizza. Although I can see why people would think that way...

Am I mad? Crazy? Would this argument hold up in court? I have no idea. You tell me!

In all, our family enjoys them just fine. I like them as a snack that I feel no need to binge on, as does Sandy. But like pizza? Nah. Maybe you'll just to believe me...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy

It's a rare condition that I link to the same seven-year-old post twice in a single week, but that's what we're gonna have to do here. Because in that post, Mr. Shelly states that the Mount Rushmore of Ice Cream would include Ben & Jerry's legendary Cherry Garcia. At the very least, the Vermont-based, Penn State-educated duo set the bar for cherry-flavored frozen desserts with their famous offering. Russ and I are both far too young and drug-free to be considered true Deadheads, but I do appreciate the ice cream as well as its late, great namesake and his music. By the way, Ben and Jerry, when will Bob Weir get an ice cream named after him?

But seriously though, as I scour the web for some background info during my brief prep for writing this post, I am dumbfounded by two revelations: 

1) Ben & Jerry's offers a non-dairy Cherry Garcia made with almond milk, and... 

2) This particular product was available at Trader Joe's at least A DECADE AGO. See: this blogspot food review.

In cases like this, it's anybody's guess as to whether this product was discontinued and then re-released, or whether it's been available all these years, somehow eluding our sights there in the frozen aisle. This recent tweet made me assume it was a new product.

If it has been there all these years, quite frankly I'm shocked that we didn't hear more about it, because it's pretty fantastic. In some ways, the slight nuttiness of the soy milk blends with the chocolate and cherry flavors even better than traditional dairy milk does. I'm eager to try B&J's almond milk-based version now, as that might work even better still. But as it stands, I'd hold this Soy Creamy flavor in higher esteem than the vanilla flavor we tried a while back.

There are plenty of chocolate chips, and the cherries are pretty awesome. They're basically just sugared cherries—as sweet as maraschino cherries, but without the formaldehyde and radioactive Red 40. Plenty of 'em, too. The overall flavor is sweet, but not too sweet, with very little aftertaste.

Sonia is a little under the weather right now and admittedly can't taste very much. She did like the bit of flavor she could detect, and of course she enjoyed the texture. Four stars from her. As someone who generally prefers dairy milk over soy milk, I think this product is worth 4.5, especially if you're lactose-intolerant or vegan.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Deep Dish Chocolate Chip Cookie

In addition to fraternity hazing deaths, sports victory-inspired riots, and a few other things too heinous to even mention on this blog, my alma mater, Penn State, was well-known at least regionally, if not internationally, for a number of less controversial things—at least while I attended. There was the famous Berkey Creamery, mentioned previously several times on this blog. There was THON, the largest student-run philanthropy in existence. And then there were colorful—although some might use the term "legendary"—long-time residents like Mike the Mailman, Zam Man the zamboni driver, and Gary the Willard Preacher. 

And in between painful morning gen ed classes and those mandatory phys ed credits that manifested themselves in the form of underwater basket weaving or, in my case, squash, we'd duck in to the cafeteria at West Halls for some grub. Everybody knew they had the best food of any of the half-dozen or so dining commons on campus, and it was close to many of the larger classroom buildings. The food was always warm and fresh and somehow tasted less "institutional" than the other cafeterias. You'd meet your friends outside Waring Commons and then head in out of the cold for an hour or so to recover your strength and inhale a chicken cosmo or two...and it was all building up to one grand moment:  when the lunch ladies put a tray of piping hot, fresh-baked, ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies out on the dessert window.

Eighty percent of the room would hop out of their seats and rush to claim their cookies. In most cases, students would have prepared a glass of milk beforehand to have on stand-by. In other cases, they'd rush to the soft-serve machine to top their cookies with some vanilla ice cream. For a few minutes, we'd all commune in a moment of pure bliss greater than that following a win at Beaver Stadium, an aced mid-term, or finding out that your favorite band just booked a show at The Crowbar. Chocolate Chip Cookie Nirvana.

This offering from Trader Joe's is the closest thing to that particular brand of ecstasy since those days at Dear Old State. It's got the perfect amount of smooth chocolate chips and soft, chewy sweet cookie goodness. Like the West Halls cookies, this one is best served fresh out of the oven, accompanied by generous quantities of milk and/or vanilla ice cream. The "deep dish" breading is much thicker than any traditional chocolate chip cookie I've ever had, but that's just another reason this confection rocks. The box includes microwave directions...but I'm going to go out on a limb and tell you to just go ahead and fire up the oven for this one.

It comes with an oven-safe tray, and it's very easy to heat, slice, and prepare. Despite its extreme softness, the cookie still maintained enough structural integrity that I was able to pull most of the slices out fully intact. The product melts in your mouth, goes down nice and easy, and would pass for restaurant-quality with flying colors.

The cookie sells for $3.99—a fair price, considering you're paying for quality ingredients and unadulterated scrumptiousness...but good luck getting 10 servings out of it. It's probably more like four.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's For the Love of Chocolate Mousse Cake

About this same time last year, I waxed poetic about love and marriage, inspired by some heart-shaped cookies from Trader Joe's. It was easy to get inspired both because my wife, Sonia, is pretty awesome, and because those cookies were surprisingly good. I mentioned how I disliked Valentine's Day, and how silly that ubiquitous traditional heart shape is—you know, the one this chocolate mousse cake is in. I'd much rather eat an anatomically-correct heart cake, especially from one of the few stores that might just be quirky enough to carry something that bizarre someday.

In the above-mentioned Raspberry Hearts review, I rambled on about sentimental nonsense and how "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and yadda yadda yadda inspirational what-have-you and "hope is just around the corner" type jazz. And of course the universe seized the opportunity to dish out one of the most challenging and difficult years of our adult lives. 

Well, my friends, I've decided to no longer dispense "wisdom" of any kind and to pout like a toddler until the universe lets up on us for a while. There'll be no "rising above the storm" this year. If things are as difficult this year as they were last year, I'll do nothing but complain and whine and moan like a bratty child, and we'll see if that strategy tricks whoever's in charge up there into giving up the whole "refining them in the fire" business or whatever's been going on lately.

I hope you all understand that I'm mostly just kidding. And of course, our troubles are not unique. I'm well aware of that. I'm frequently reminded of the age-old quote, often attributed to Plato: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Truer words were never spoken.

Ahem, on to the food review. 

There's a pleasant chocolate cake smell that wafts out from the plastic container right when the lid is removed. The presentation is quite nice, and the price is just right for a thoughtful little V-day gift for your significant other—$3.99.

The texture's just a tad stiffer than I would have imagined...and I won't say the cake is "dry" by any means, but it's not particularly moist, either. It tastes like multiple variations of chocolate and chocolate cake layered on one another, and it's pretty sweet, plenty choco-riffic, and would serve as an adequate dessert for the end of an average meal. It reminded us of the Chocolate Mousse Pumpkins we had, which of course are remarkably similar to the Chocolate Mousse Eggs, reviewed on this blog a couple years ago. I think Sandy Shelly said it best when she called them "kinda like a fancy Little Debbie." This product is no different, except it's much larger than a single Little Debbie snack cake.

The overall value and presentation isn't bad, so we won't besmirch it too greatly. A cake isn't a person, but we'll be kind anyway. I promise this won't be the best chocolate mousse or chocolate cake you've ever had, but there's a good chance it won't be the worst, either. Three stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites

Let's have a moment of honesty here, please.

Do you really need me to tell you to go out and get Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites as a big ol' baggie of snacky nom-noms? Look, it's churros. In a snack sack. No baking. No nothing. Just ready to go, rip open and inhale.

Likewise, did I really need to put on that facade around my wife on our most recent TJ's trip? I did a whole "Well I heard these were good so I think just maybe we should try them if only for the blog. You know, for science...yeah...that's it. Science" bit. Honey, please. There was no way I was not leaving without at least one package of churrolicious snackage, and it's not like I really had to twist my anyone's arm over it, either.

It's churros, AKA one of my favorite co-opted delights from our southern neighbors. Probably one of yours too. And now in highly convenient, prepackaged form, because 'merica. That's how we do it.

And true to fom, these churritos are muy delicioso.

Think of warm, soft, crispy outside/doughy inside churros, coated all over with cinnamon, but translated into big, crunchy, nugget form. That's what we got going on here. Tastewise, they're spot on, with strong notes of brown sugar and carmelization and all out comfort vibe. They're delectable as is, but they're begging to be paired with ice cream or fondue dip or whatever else. There's even a little requisite greasiness - no napkin worthy, but a good lick of the fingertips afterwards is the right idea. So it's pretty slight. Speaking of slight, there is the ittiest-bittiest hint of vanilla in the crispified batter, which adds a real nice, wholesome touch. Me gusta.

The nugget form works too, all things considered. When it comes down to it, I do prefer the soft doughiness of fried churros, but these baked guys get it done. The insides are airy and flakey but pack plenty of crunch, with even a little slight creaminess to it, like a good pastry, almost. The texture reminds me of something but I can't quite put my finger on it...maybe it'll come to me. But the corn flour makes a harder outer shell, with plenty of give inside, while still being sturdy all around. I guess kinda like a giant baked Corn Puff...but better.

So yeah, you don't really need me to tell ya about these! Chances are, if this is even remotely your kinda thing, you're on them already. But hey, we need you, our fans. It's where we get some of our best suggestions. One of our Facebook superfans, Ruthie, recommended warming in the over for a few minutes, which I wouldn't have thought of myself...a great idea! Added crunch and carmelization, though be careful, they do burn quick as I found out. And as something new, there's an already pretty great TJ's fan page on Reddit that you can join - I (Russ) just did to share ideas, tips, and fun. Hope to see you on there - I'm WGaTJ_Russ on there.

Enjoy, amigos.



Bottom line: Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies

Hrmm, let's see. Gluten free. Oats. Cranberries. Gulp...flax seeds.

And in a cookie too? What? Jeez oh man, what kinda healthy hippie treehuggin' BS are we about to get suckered into by Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies?

Okay, yeah, that's a bit extrreme. But is it okay if I admit I wasn't thrilled about picking up and buying this sixpack of cookies? I mean, I like cookies in almost every way, shape and form...just ask my family around the holidays...but, this? These don't sound like a treat to me. Instead, these cookies, on first pre-sampling impression, seem to be one of those gimmicky "Well if you're gonna eat snacky doodads, make them healthy ones!" products that seem to always suspiciously spring up right around New Years.

For the two, maybe three bucks, I figured worst case we could throw them outside on a snowy day if we didn't like them. You know, for our winged friends. Bird suet. Because that's how they sounded to me...

Jumping Jack Flash, these are a smash, smash, smash.

Seriously. These are awesome. I can think of no other word. Usually when I think "gluten free" I think stiff and cardboardy (or in the case of most anything made with rice flour, damp newspaper-y), but that is so absolutely not the case here. Soft, crumbly, slightly chewy, as if they're almost pulled from the oven, the texture on these cookies is simply unbelievable. From pure mouhtfeel standpoint, these are amongst the tops I've ever laid my teeth too. And that's saying a lot.

The oats make a good earthy base for the batter, perfect for the slight tartness of the cranberries to stand out. I almost wish there was a nut like some almonds just for a little added harvest-esque touch, but the cookies don't suffer much from their absense. To be honest, I didn't notice the flax seeds much one way or another, so I'll take that as an overall positive. Can't let too much hippieness get between you and a good cookie.

I'm impressed, Sandy's impressed. Gonna stock up on these suckers and try to hide from our growing group of kiddos. These are some of the rare store bought cookies that I know I couldn't make better myself. It's been a while since we've crowned something as an inner circle hall of famer, but it seems due now. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...a perfect score. Now go out and get 'em!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic White Truffle Potato Chips

Certain yummy things come from the ground. Potatoes, for example. 

I'd add chickpeas, lentils, and beans to that list, among other things. I can go either way on things like radishes, beets, and jicama. But in my book, once something has been in the dirt for a long enough time, it necessarily falls under the category of "things to burn," rather than "things to eat." Case in point: oil, coal, propane, natural gas—all of which are proving useful as sources of heat during this gnarly polar vortex we've got going over most of the country. You burn them. Nobody in his right mind tries to eat them.

I'd like to add truffles to that list. Fungi that have been in the dirt for 5-8 years have long since graduated from the "you should eat this" league, and are now well on their way to becoming fossil fuels for future generations to incinerate. Let's just go ahead and leave them in the ground for now.

Because they taste like dirt. They're bitter, chalky, and...I mean, some might use the term "earthy," but I think that word is simply too kind for this "gourmet" subterranean fungus.

Just the smell from the bag was too much for me. I'm not really even sure why. "Organic white truffle" is very low on the ingredients list, but there's nothing else on there that I dislike at all. Tapioca maltodextrin might be a little odd for potato chips, but I'm down with tapioca stuff. I like oil. I like salt. I like potatoes. The look, feel, and texture of the chips was just fine. If you lacked olfactory and gustatory senses, you'd never be able to differentiate these chips from run-of-the-mill salted potato chips. But for me, that truffley taste just overpowered everything else, and I could scarcely stomach two of the chips. 

I'd also like to point out that I'm in the minority here, apparently. The lovely Sonia enjoyed these soil-flavored chips, oddly enough. And our western PA blogging counterparts appreciated the Truffle Mac and Cheese exactly one year ago this week. I guess you can chalk it up to my lifelong aversion to fungi. I don't even really like mushrooms.

I, for one, hope to never eat another truffle-containing product for as long as I live. You can call me unsophisticated, but you can't call me unadventurous. Sonia and I consumed and enjoyed both alligator meat and python meat for the first time this New Year's Eve at a fancy hot dog place in Philly. Even those guys serve potato chips sans truffles. They know what's up.

I give these chips one and a half stars. I would have gone with zero, but their texture and appearance was just fine. It's the flavor I can't handle. Sonia will go with four. She thinks the flavor is "interesting," and she likes that the chips aren't as oily as other varieties.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Sesame Seed Clusters

First things first - Happy New Year everyone! Here's to hoping 2018 will be better than 2017, but not as good as 2019 will be, starting now. Or, if you're a Time Lord and into that wibbly-wobbly line of thinking, 2018 can start being better whenever it pleases.

Eight years of writing this blog, and that is only my second Dr. Who reference I can think of, and a weak one at that. Note to self: more Dr Who references this year. That would require Sandy and I to finally get caught up on episodes. That'd be great, especially to help fill the time until Stranger Things comes back So many cliffhangers there...won't say anything in case anyone's not caught up somehow, but man, Joyce's fridge...the heck?

Whether your New Year's resolution is to wach more Netflix or do that getting healthier thing (or both! I need to rid me of some adipose, personally), you need a snack. May as well give Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Sesame Seeds Clusters a try.

These clusters are definitely unique. I keep wanting to call them crackers, because that's what they feel and taste like - wafer-y, thin, airy, crispy crackers. In a way, similiar to a couple layers of filo dough baking together. Except, it's not flour and eggs and whatnot - it's just coconut. I've had dried coconut before, but none was think this - maybe I'm sheltered or naive, but for me at least it's a first. The clusters are irresistably crispy, and as a cool bonus, after a few chomps it's almost as if a little coconut oil gets extruded. That may not be accurate, but there's certainly an added coconutty presence that seems to ooze out. May sound weird, but nah - and it's delicious.

Black and white sesame seeds add a small textural varient and kinda help turn the nature of this snack into a more savory-type deal. Kinda odd bedfellows, sesame seeds and coconut, but it works. There's also apparently some Himalayan salt added, but honestly I don't detect any of it, so it's probably fairly negligible.

Eat them straight, put on a salad, put on some ice cream, but don't do salad and ice cream at the same time. That wouldn't work. These crispers are light and snacky enough that both Sandy and I could the whole bag, which probably isn't advisable even if it's coconut. At about $2 for the bag, these are repeat buy worthy for sure. We'll be on them for sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Sesame Seed Clusters: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Stroopwafel

"There's only two things I hate in this world. People who are intolerant of other people's cultures...and the Dutch."

A little Austin Powers humor there for you. But you gotta admit. The Dutch make a mean cookie. I mean waffle. I mean...stroopwafel. Stroop! There it is!

These things are like the sexy illegitimate love-children of a naughty sugar cookie and a super sultry, syrupy waffle. They're pretty sweet. I mean that both literally, and as in, like, "Sweet, dude!" They taste like buttery, bready sugar cookie waffle things. And the texture...the texture is even harder to describe. The packaging says "crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside." That's not inaccurate at all. But...they're so much more surprisingly awesome than that sounds. I feel like I've had "crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside" before, but I wanna say this is just a whole new mouthfeel here with these stroopwafels. Also, there's a quaint, collectible tin.

It was once suggested that we here at What's Good at Trader Joe's? are nothing but "Belgian World Domination Puppets" due to our love of speculoos cookie butter in all its majestic forms. Well, watch out, Belgium, you've got some competition. Your friendly Netherlandish neighbors are revving up their TJ's game. I'll be first in line for Stroopwafel Butter.

Watch Sonia's video for pics of the product, nutrition info, and a cool trick where you place a stroopwafel on top of a coffee cup and it gets all warm and gooey. It's like the Dutch version of a Tim Tam Slam.

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

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crème Brûlée Tarte

I'm not sure if there are just fewer Christmas items this year, or if they were just sold out of most of them at our local Trader Joe's, but this is about the most Christmassy thing we could find on our last TJ's run. I mean, there's nothing unChristmassy about creme brulee, but there are also no conventions I'm aware of that would insist that it be consumed this time of year in particular. Nevertheless, this is the post we leave you with on this 22nd of December, and it's likely the last post you'll see until after Christmas Day.

So. Hmmm. I followed the directions to the letter. And I'm not sure if my broiler just never got hot enough, but I don't think the sugar ever melted the way it was supposed to. I let the oven preheat for significantly longer than the estimated 5 minutes, just to make sure it was broiling, and I left the product in for at least 2 minutes. I did take it out shortly thereafter for fear I'd burn the entire thing. After reviewing another creme brulee product a few years back, a reader commented in regards to the sugar topping: "You need a blow torch." 

At first—foodie-hack that I am—I thought he was joking, but then I realized that there is such a thing as a culinary blow torch. Well, I didn't own one then and I certainly don't own one now, so...I considered improvising and holding a can of Sonia's hairspray or Lysol up to a lighter and seeing if that would do the trick, but then my better judgment got the best of me, and I decided it wasn't worth risking the clean and fresh fragrance of disinfectant or the alluring odor of a women's aerosol hair product ruining the flavor of this tarte altogether. Caramelized sugar tastes just fine whether it's completely melted or not.

So after allowing the product to cool for 3 minutes, I prepared to slice it. Wait a minute. Since when do you slice creme brulee? Since it became a "tarte" apparently. This is more like a pie with creme brulee-flavored filling than actual creme brulee. Not bad, just different. It actually has a crust. It's a thin crust, but it's unmistakably crusty and bready.

The filling is thick, rich, and somewhat custard-like, similar to real creme brulee, but something about the flavor just fell flat in my opinion. I feel like the topping was nice and sweet, but the flavor of the filling was perhaps a bit too "eggy" for me, if that makes sense, and it lacked a bit of that sweet creamy vibe in certain other creme brulee selections that I've tried. It's nothing to complain about, but in the end, nothing to write home about either.

Sonia had similar sentiments about this dessert overall, though her opinion of the filling was slightly more positive than mine. She'll give this product three and a half Christmas stars. I'll go with three.

Happy holidays!

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Irish Whiskey Caramels

In Connecticut, in order to be fit for sale, a pickle must be able to bounce.

In Maryland, it is illegal to curse while driving.

In several states and locales there are strict laws about not walking backwards past a movie theater with an ice cream cone in your back pocket on Sundays.

Sure, there are many dumb state laws, but the one that brings me the most grief: the strict laws about where one can buy alcohol in Pennsylvania.

Can't buy it most places other states take for granted. And definitely not in a grocery store, unless there's a cafe attached to the store that can be thus considered a restaurant/establishment. And even then, it's just beer and wine, and not the good hard stuff. That's reserved for the state-owned-and-operated liquor stores. I kid you not.

So no...we did not purchase Trader Joe's Irish Whiskey Caramels at a Trader Joe's in good ol' PA. How'd we get our hands on them? We're not gonna snitch ourselves out, but if the authorities really wanted to know, they probably would already. You know, Elf on the Shelf and all that. He's the snitch.

But yes, we got these TJ whiskey chocolates just in time for the holidays. Major thanks to one of Sandy's friends are in order. If you have local access to these, thank your stars, because these boozy bonbons are the bomb. The dark chocolate shell is, as usual, right on point - dark and decadent with fantastic cocoa flavor. I'd say by taste it's probably around 65-70% dark, though I could be wrong. It's certainly not too terribly bitter, and instead lends a rich decadence to the product.

So, of course, the Irish whiskey gets infused into the oozy boozy caramel core. It's single malt, so fairly light and mild, without much bite that other whiskeys have. It's most noticeable right after the initial sugary touch of the caramel, and again with the slightest of boozy burn at the end, but in the middle it's pretty rich, almost too sweet caramel. Key word: almost. The sweetness gets held just enough in check to make it a smooth, almost velvetty experience.

Needless to say, these are really good. Just one or two are enough, and that's a good thing...no, you'd probably need to eat a palletful to get a buzz from the whiskey, and you'd be more likely to go into diabetic shock from the experience. Each eight pack runs $3.99, making it a nice sized little gift if you need such a thing, even if just for yourself. Really wish these could be legal in my state, but if they were, who knows what other kind of heathenry could be let loose? Maybe...selling cars on Sundays (also currently illegal here)! Double fours from the wife and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Irish Whiskey Caramels: 8 outof 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mini Cannoli

I know at least two members of the WG@TJ's team have been to Italy. The closest I've ever been to Italy would have to be Little Italy in New York City—I mean, physically, the closest I've ever been would be Spain or France—but if you're talking authentic Italian pizza, pasta, and desserts, NYC would be it for me.

While there, I picked up a cannoli from a little pastry shop. It was surprisingly inexpensive and deee-licious. Since then, I've had a few other cannolis from Italian restaurants and delis, but they all pale in comparison to that amazing Little Italy cannoli so far. So how does Trader Joe's offering size up?

It's pretty darn good. The shell isn't bad at all, but it's hard-pressed to compete with a just-baked one, fresh off the cooling rack from a professional pastry chef. Trader Joe's offering comes frozen, and you simply thaw for a while at room temperature or in the fridge. Considering its recent frozen-ness, it's honestly quite amazing.

And the filling is even better. Buffalo milk ricotta. Yep. It's just a little more tangy than other cannoli fillings I've tried, and I love it that way. It's still sweet and blends nicely with the dark chocolate, but there's just a little something in this version that gives it an extra zip—I assume we can attribute that to the use of buffalo milk instead of just plain old cow juice...? It's like a very high-quality cream cheese almost. Whatever it is, I like it. I should also note that regular cow's milk does appear lower down on the ingredients list, so if you have some kind of cow's milk allergy, you still may need to be wary here.

The bready part of these pastries is soft and crumbly, and the filling is super creamy in texture. The dark chocolate adds even more complexity and a slight rigidity to the shell, and there's just the right amount of it.

I'm certainly no cannoli expert, but these are at least the second-best cannolis I've ever had. Four bucks for six cannolis—er, cannoli? Is the plural still just "cannoli" with no "s" as the packaging would imply? Any Italian-speakers up in this piece?

These treats are indeed "miniature." A single mini cannoli isn't really a full dessert just by itself unless you have that...that thing where you don't keep eating until you're bursting at the seams each meal. Oh yeah, I think it's called "self-control" or something like that. You'll either need to combine these with other mini desserts to create your own sampler platter or just eat three at a time like the nutrition info suggests. Who am I to argue with Trader Joe? Three cannoli it is...but only because he twisted my arm.

Double fours here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Smoky Honey Seasoned Kettle Chips

Really, the last thing needed right now is potato chips. I *like* chips, I do not *need* chips. Once upon a time, not so long ago, I'd rather eat raw spinach straight up than indulge in some chips...back when I was crazy about dropping weight and being healthy and all that stuff. Which is all good, but not where I am now. It's dark, cold and icy for a good morning run, which cuts down on my dietary indulgence margin, and my fridge is currently half-full with holiday party leftovers, with more holiday parties coming up...but the more cookies I eat, the more room for fruits and veggies, right? So goes my logic. It's got some holes in it.

Anyways, I *knew* I shouldn't have bought Trader Joe's Smoky Honey Seasoned Kettle Chips. NO NEED for these in my kitchen. NONE. But...but...I like kettle chips. A lot. "Smoky" and "honey" sounds good. And the packaging is reminiscent enough of one of the last chips I fell in love with it...dangit...the bag is coming home with me.

Arrrrgh.

These chips kinda have a split personality to them. On one hand, the crisps are remarkably snackable, to the point where inhalation of the bagfull seems entirely plausible if not outright encouraged. That's the allure of the kettle chip - extra crunchy, more girth, more grease perhaps. So good, so remarkably good, and these TJ kettle chips are a textbook example of quality in that regard. Definitely had to exercise some willpower to close the bag and put back on the shelf.

It's the flavor that's a little disappointing. It's not awful, but the taste seems neither smoky nor honeylicious. Instead, it's like a pretty mild barbeque flavor that's pretty pleasant and certainly not heavyhanded, with a small touch of sweetness presumably from the honey. But smoky? No taste of that thus far. And I like smoky.

Anyways it's like $2 for the bag, and I will have to remind myself it's not a single serving next time I open. If the flavor were stronger or something more to it, it wouldn't be as easy to just keep on eating and eating and eating...that must be what they're going for. Sandy and I liked them alright, as did our kiddos. Nothing too much else to say except let's go with double 3s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Smoky Honey Seasoned Kettle Chips: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fruit Fancies

That time of year again, of course...nah, not how I meant it a few posts back. In a different way. It's...holiday gathering season! Gather round and be merry, y'all.

Sandy and I hosted our usual holiday cookiepalooza this past weekend, which was a blast and, quite naturally, a fair amount of effort to be ready for. But that's nothing comnpared to this upcoming week, where we're going to almost ten different Hanukkah/Christmas/holiday parties. I'm not kidding. I'd figure out that thee exact number, but that requires thinking, then thinking of how crazy that is, so it'd better not to and just go with it. But all the cookies. And treats. And beverages. And maybe the need to bring something thats, you know, a little healthy or snacky but looks good and could be used as a present of some type in a pinch...

...so it's as good a time as any for some Trader Joe's Fruit Fancies.

Look at 'em. You can't tell me they're not reminiscent of sushi rolls in appearance. Literally it's the first thing I thought of when I picked them up. Fruit and nut sushi. Cool. There's two varieties in the neat wooden tray: cherry coconut almond, and apricot walnut sesame. Both types are predominantly mixed with fig paste, so you gotta like those to have a shot at liking these fancy figgy faux fishy festive feats.

Between the two, the cherry almond is better IMHO. The cherry tartness plays out better with the almond and coconut for a better tasting bite. For the apricot walnut, that taste is alright enough in of itself - really no complants - but the sesame seeds seems just kinda odd. It's a bit strange to have small crispy seeds in a slightly firm yet chewy morsel. Once accustommed, the mouthfeel was certainly acceptable, but the first couple nibbles were a little offputting.

Both varieties are fairly muted and earthy flavorwise - no added sugar or anything to jazz them way up. Nah, this is a good, wholesome kinda treat that would be welcome at most holiday parties, I would think. The package says it pairs well with cheese - it doesn't give too many suggestions, but with a little imagination it'd probably work. I'd personally reach for a few while trying to pace myself between meatballs and chocolate chip cookies and whatever else might be on the smorgasbord.

Plus, like briefly mentioned, it comes packaged in a really neat little wooden tray. Ours will probably end up as property of our kids and some type of art project, but I kinda want one for myself. Not that I'd have any great use or idea of what to do with it.

I think the TJ fruit fancies cost $5.99, which isn't an awful deal for treats of its ilk. There's similar bagged fig/fruit bite type deals at Costco, which cost roughly in the same neighborhood per unit if my slightly suspect memory is clicking right. I'd pick them up again, and hope for a little variety to be coming down the pipeline.

Nothing too strong to say about them one way or another. Sounds like double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fruit Fancies: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sugar Glazed Mixed Nuts

Let's pause for a moment to remember an older, oft-forgotten Christmas movie that shares its name with this product—that's right: Mixed Nuts, starring Steve Martin. It centers around a suicide-prevention hotline, features a cross-dressing Liev Schreiber, a young ukulele-playing Adam Sandler, and a serial killer known as the Seaside Strangler. Sound a bit awkward and weird? It is. Each character introduced is more strange and unexpected than the ones before...very much in contrast to this bag of nuts from Trader Joe's, which features all the usual suspects.

Peanuts, almonds, cashews, and pecans. I can't think of four more "normal" nuts. I mean, I guess walnuts could have made the cut since they're vaguely holiday-ish. But I don't think they would have enhanced this mix at all. Quite frankly, I'm not even sure this is a holiday product, but we'll treat it as such. It's kosher, too. So...if you're throwing a Hanukkah bash, keep these in mind. 

Personally, I wouldn't have minded some macadamias thrown in there, but no doubt they would have upped the price point by $20 or so. All four nuts in the bag are represented pretty adequately, except for the pecans. At least in our bag, they were quite scarce. 

Sweetened by cane sugar, the nuts are high quality and feel fresh. They're nice and sweet, but not to the point where you have to stop eating after only a nut or two. They're not completely covered in an actual glaze, but each nut is peppered with hundreds of granules of sugar. It makes them somewhat messy, but I'd rather eat granules of real sugar than something less authentic. There's no Christmas spice mix here. No berries. No chocolate. Just "sugar nuts," which, incidentally, is Sonia's favorite nickname for me...

Just kidding.

And on that note, we'll give our final scores. Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me. Nothing spectacular or original here, just a solid nut mix sweetened with cane sugar.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Scandinavian Tidings

You might remember some other Scandies we reviewed on here a while ago. This time, Trader Joe dropped the chuckle-inducing title of "swimmers" and went with "tidings," as in: tidings of comfort and joy or something like that. 

TJ's holds the holiday theme high here, as this product features a bold Christmassy red resealable bag, snowflake art on the packaging, and three ultra-merry colors/shapes/flavors: green trees, red ornaments, and yellowish stars. I say yellow-ish because, well, they're somewhere between yellow and off-white. That's just fine, because they went with vegetable-based coloring in this product, as we've seen from TJ's in the past. We don't need our candy to be electric-neon-radioactive yellow. I'll take the blackcurrant, carrot, and pumpkin colorings any day over "yellow number five" or whatever carcinogenic nonsense the other guys use.

As far as flavors go, there are three distinct tastes. The red ornaments are my favorite, and they taste just like classic Swedish Fish if you ask me. The stars are slightly softer than the other two shapes, and they taste like...I dunno...something sweet. Call me crazy, but I feel like the green trees taste slightly appley. There's no apple listed in the ingredients, so...I guess I could be wrong.

Both Sonia and I would have enjoyed these more if they were sour, in the manner of the legendary T's and J's. And honestly, I think I prefer the swimmers over these. 

Why? Well, at least three out of the four flavors present in the swimmers were pretty tasty. Here, I don't think the flavors are quite as unique or memorable. Plus—there are only three shapes, as opposed to four. I guess you could make a big tree shape out of all the trees in the bag and then pretend to decorate it with the stars and red balls, but that's not nearly as much fun as staging battles between dolphins, giant lobsters, seahorses, and rock fish. 

I mean...not that I actually did either one of those things.

There's certainly nothing wrong with these candies, but they're neither the most fun nor the best tasting gummy candy we've seen from Trader Joe's. It's a decent bit of gummies for $2.99, and the overall quality is on par with what we've come to expect from TJ's. I'll go with three out of five gummy candy Christmas stars. Sonia gives them three and a half.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cheesy Trees

It's funny how snacks marketed for children often use animal shapes: Goldfish, Teddy Grahams, and of course, classic animal crackers like Barnum's Animals...

And I'm not saying you couldn't pull it off, but if you were throwing some fine holiday soiree, it would be a little weird to put giraffe and elephant-shaped crackers out to enjoy with wine and fruit, for example. However, if said crackers were shaped like evergreen trees, nobody would bat an eyelid.

And if there was any doubt that these trees are alluding to Christmas trees in particular, there's a spiel on the packaging that starts with "O Tannenbaum." 

Furthermore, this product flaunts a particularly wintry theme on its packaging, including a fox with a scarf and a rabbit wearing gloves. There's evidence of snow on the ground, and even the songbirds are bundled up with earmuffs and knit caps.

I'm not sure why cheese-flavored tree crackers are particularly seasonal, wintry, or Christmassy, but it works somehow. And indeed they do pair well with a nice Cab. They boast a strong, sharp cheddar flavor, but their texture is relatively thin and delicate. They're buttery to the touch—completely covered in real cheese. They necessitate napkins. And as you can see in the photo above, the depiction of the crackers on the box is pretty close to their actual size.

Unfortunately, about half of our trees were broken at the time of consumption, which might be a bummer if we were concerned with presentation or were attempting to impress guests. But luckily for us, it was just Sonia and I gobbling up the crackers by ourselves after a nice hike with our poorly-behaved pets.

After wolfing down a good portion of the bag, a bright lightbulb appeared over Sonia's head. 

"What is it!?" I exclaimed.

"Tomato soup!" she replied.

She scrambled over to the pantry and parted a row of chicken noodle and lentil and produced a lone can of Progresso Tomato Soup. She held it high above her head and The Hallelujah Chorus mysteriously poured out of each corner of the room as a brilliant, pure white light filled our house, its source unknown.

She proceeded to heat the soup and served it up in two bowls, which were swimming with tree-halves just moments later. And it was heavenly.

Sonia was enthusiastic about the trees from her first bite to her last. She gives them four and a half Christmas stars. I liked them just fine, although I don't think I'd snack on them just by themselves on a regular basis...but I'd never discourage Sonia from keeping some on hand, just in case I get a hankering for a bowl of tomato soup again. Three and a half Christmas stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.