Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels

"I like them."

"They're a little different, but good."

"I mean, they aren't like my new favorite thing, so I'm not like going to go out and buy all of them and them be my new go to staple item, but you know, they were all right, I guess."

After something like eight years and somewhere around five or six hundred reviews by your truly on here, whenever I ask my lovely bride Sandy about what she thinks about some sort of TJ's product, that's her response at least 90% of the time.

Please note: this doesn't include all the other TJ's things we've consumed but have not reviewed, so it's a lot. Imagine being asked for your opinion on almost everything you eat for years and years, full well knowing anything you say can and probably will be held against you on a blog accessible to everyone in the world. You'd kind of want to plead the 5th after a while, don't ya think? I'm grateful she'll still talk with me about it.

I bring this up about Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels because, well, that about sums 'em up perfectly, and I have scant more to really say about them myself.

I like them. I mean, it's dark chocolate and caramel, primarily, which is a pretty solid base. Unless something really goes awry from here, it's a near given for at least a slightly positive review.

They're a little different, but good. It's the sesame, of course. The package shows these caramels as having a sesame-seed tcrunchy toffee base with a little dollop of caramel atop. I'm not saying it's inaccurate...but the amount of toffee itself seems overstated. There's a lot of caramel, and just enough sesame seeds to add a little crispy crunch and some subtle sesame flavor. It's not unpleasant at all, but really, one or two or enough. Theese TJ caramels are decidedly not bingeworthy, at least for me.

I mean, they aren't like my new favorite thing, so I'm not like going to go out and buy all of them and them be my new go to staple item, but you know, they were all right, I guess. Couldn't have said it better myself, love.

As a plus kids probably won't like them too much, and there's a kinda decadent element to them, so it's one treat us adults can savor and keep for ourselves. And at $3 or $4 for the bag, it's not a horrible value either. So when Sandy does her usual eye -scrunched "Hmmmm...three and a half, I guess" when I ask her how many Golden Spoons, that seems about right to me as well.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Original Savory Thin Crackers

Sonia let me eat these crackers in our bed. She didn't really have a choice. It's not like I asked permission. She was still asleep.

In my defense, I did use a plate and napkin, and I don't think I allowed any crumbs to spill onto the sheets. If I had, our dogs would likely have gobbled them up anyway.

Often, before I begin my usual work for the day, I'll try to get a head start on the following day's post for this blog very early on. I mean, writing posts for this blog is usually—not always, but usually—the most fun project of the day. But still, I like knocking out as many tasks as possible early on. Lately, I've found myself waking up at dawn without the assistance of an alarm clock. I'm generally showered, dressed, and have completed a number of domestic tasks like yesterday's dishes or taking out the trash, along with a few tweets and pins by 7am or shortly thereafter. So if there's any way to justify my product for review as a breakfast option, it often becomes just that.

Crackers for breakfast isn't that weird I guess. I had these crispy crunchables with hummus, cheese, and the very last scrapings of our garlic spread dip. All of those toppings worked brilliantly with these gluten-free crackers, not that I was expecting anything less.

They're rice-based, and they taste that way. I've had plenty of other rice crackers throughout the years, and the flavor here is pretty similar. There's a significant sesame taste, too, by virtue of not only sesame seeds, but also sesame flour. Sesame seeds don't really thrill or astound me much these days, but likewise, I won't complain about their presence, either. In a cracker like this, the flavor is deliberately muted, so as to showcase the flavor of whatever cheese or topping they're paired with.

Texture-wise, they're nice and thin, slightly brittle, rigid, and very crunchy. They're stable enough for a chip-full of any kind of topping, but they break apart effortlessly when bitten into.

There's apparently a "mini" version of this cracker that's oddly available for purchase on just about every online retailer one can think of. I guess because they're so shelf-stable...? Anyway, this version is $1.69 a pack. Good price. Decent product. I'd buy 'em again. Three and a half stars from me.

Sonia says they remind her of Japanese rice crackers. She's certainly not wrong. She's eager to try them with some different toppings. Four stars from her.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Just a Handful of Olives Pitted Salted Manzanilla Olives

Ah, it's springtime, and the forsythias are blooming again. Who knew forsythia bushes yielded green olives? Not this guy, that's for sure. Fun fact: they don't actually. But we put these manzanillas there anyway, because, you know...pretty picture.

I hablo enough of the Español to know that "manzana" means "apple." So I figured "manzanilla" might mean apple...something or other. Applicious? Probably not if they're salted. I didn't really think that one through.

Actually, "manzanilla" translates to "chamomile." Do these happy, snackable olives taste like chamomile? You'll just have to watch our short video review to find out.



Closing thoughts: are olives fruits or vegetables? Technically, they're fruits, but for culinary purposes, they're treated as veggies, so I tagged them as both. 4.5 from Sonia. 4 from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 3 Seed Sweet Potato Crackers

Every once in a while, Sonia and I will get so busy that we'll go a few weeks without a Trader Joe's run, and we'll glance in the cupboard and realize there are no new TJ's products to review. I freely admit this was one of those occasions. Fortunately, there was one product we bought a while back that hadn't been reviewed at the time of purchase: these "sweet potato" crackers. We're pretty sure this item is still available, although the post about them on traderjoes.com has already been archived. They also offered a 3 seed beet flavor that we skipped.

First off, these snacks didn't taste a whole lot like sweet potato. Barely a hint. They tasted much more like traditional corn-based tortilla chips, but with a nice seedy nuttiness. 

Likewise, they behaved like little round "chips" rather than "crackers," despite clearly being marketed as the latter. If you've tried the Sweet Potato Tortilla Chips—again, not 100% sure they're still on Trader Joe's shelves currently—you'll know that despite functioning as tortilla chips, they actually tasted noticeably like sweet potato, as observed by Russ and Sandy.

For $1.99 per box, the value isn't bad at all. There are plenty of chips, er, crackers, in the package. By virtue of their diminutive size, they work well in soups, although I'd much rather have dipped them in salsa or queso sauce like real tortilla chips. 

They're crispy, crunchy, salty, slightly oily, and as mentioned before, seedy. I think in many ways the beet flavor would probably work better, since there's more earthiness in the flavor of a beet that might blend a little better with the taste of flax, chia, and sesame seeds.

They're gluten-free and kosher, and not a bad value for the price. We're certainly not hating on them, but we've seen at least one sweet potato chip/cracker in recent memory that's a little tastier. Looks like it'll be three stars from me again and three and a half from Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 27 Layer Sesame Croissini

As I sit here pondering how to kick off this croissini review, my mind wanders to the significance of the number twenty-seven, as in the "27 layers" mentioned on the packaging. That's a lot of layers. It's referring to the thin sheets of croissant dough in these pastries. And yes, I did attempt to count them at one point. I didn't get exactly 27 because a few of the layers sort of fused to one another, but it's entirely believable that there are, in fact, 27 layers in each croissant-ish stick. 

As far as the number itself goes, all I could think of is Nikola Tesla saying something enigmatic about 3, 6, and 9 and an old Schoolhouse Rock song about three being "The Magic Number." And what does three have to do with 27, you ask? Well, 27 is three to the power of three. It's three cubed. So if three is a magic number, then 27 should be, like, meta-magical.

And then after biting into the first pastry, I realized I shouldn't have thought at all about the number 27...because "meta-magical" is a word too lofty for most members of our Trader Joe's Pantheon even, let alone these croissini. I should have meditated on sesame seeds instead. I can't remember the last time I was impressed by something covered in sesame seeds.

Now don't get me wrong, these croissini aren't entirely unnoshable. They're slightly crisp on the outside, nice and buttery on the inside, and they're optimized for hors d'oeuvre-style finger food snacking. They're not particularly flavorful—honestly, not even as flavorful and bready as a traditional croissant, if you ask me. The sesame seeds do add a touch of flavor and texture, but again, who wants to eat something that gets "rescued" by sesame seeds?

The sticks are slightly more enticing when served with a sweet sauce. We tried honey. It worked very well. It turned the croissini into something nearly baklava-esque—something more dessert-like than a plain old breadstick.

There are eight in a pack for $3.99. These would work best in a party environment with people just mulling about not entirely paying attention to what they're eating, as opposed to someone having them as a stand-alone meal, preparing to pen an online food review about them, thinking way too much about sesame seeds, and counting the 27 layers of dough.

Three stars from me (and there's that magic number again). Three and a half from Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Cauliflower Cookie Butter

Bottom line: 10 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles

As you may recall, ice cream is a certain kind of currency in our family, good for all kinds of bribery...

Well, what about candy?

Candy is an oddball in our family. There's two main divergent views. The one I employ is, eat it all right away. Candy rarely lasts long around me. It's...kinda a bad thing. I've learned that, by in large, I need to avoid buying it or it will go down the hatch way too quick.

But candy around my wife or daughters? My goodness, explain to me what is wrong with them! They never eat it. Well, that's not exactly true...but almost. Sandy has candy leftover from last Easter that's still in her designated treat box that I am strictly forbidden from touching. Our girls have candy leftover from two Halloweens ago, I swear. We end up routinely tossing it out.

But somehow, if I were to consume it, even if we've had it for six plus months, they'd all know within 14 hours of its sugary demise and I'd be in the doghouse. Personal experience. Been there, done that.

So what's the ultimate fate of Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles?

Not sure. They're pretty decent candies overall. Sandy says they're pretty close to Lindt Truffles overall, which somehow I recognize but am not familiar with their overall quality. Around Easter, I'm more into jellybeans and Reese eggs than anything else. But I guess pretty similar to those aforemntioned Lindt balls, with a milk chocolate shell surrounding a rich, creamy interior. At about the size of a large marble, they go down pretty easily. One or two go a long ways, too.

I'm not completely in love with them. Nothing wrong, per se, but just a preference. But they're just a little basic and plain. With the different foil wrapper colors, it'd be cool if they contained different flavor creams, but nah, all the same. For me, they'll make an adequate occasional sugary treat, so I won't be surprised if I peck at them here or there, but if there's other candy around up for grabs, I'd go for them first.

If Sandy winds up stashing them in her box, though? They'll probably become family heirlooms. "Wait 'til you can savor them," she'll tell our great-grand kids.

Neither of us are big on them. Kinda meh. Kinda basic. Nothing too wrong, nothing too right. Going right down the middle here in all fairness.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Truffles: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar

Wait...what?

Rereads package several times

Well, I'll be...

Alright, listen. I have no idea what the actual name of this product is. It might be Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar. It might be Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Bar With Bits of Crunchy Cinnamon Square Cereal. It also may be Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar With Bits of Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Cereal. That last one is straight from the Department of Redundacy Department...but it is what the packaging of this particular candy bar suggests, isn't it?

I guess, no matter the name, it's clear its from Trader Joe's, its a milk chocolate bar, and it has something to do with crunchy cinnamon square cereal as well. Well, dang it, count me in.

Well, it's a pretty decent candy bar, though not without a flaw we'll get to here in just a minute. Unfortunately Sandy, the kiddos and I kinda devoured the thing before taking a better pic of the actual product, but it's a gridded up choco-bar, easily breakable into 24 pieces. So it's perfect for sharing with all sorts of group sizes. It all looks like a pretty normal Hershey's relative, save for a gritty, dusty undercoating of cinnamon and sugar.

Taste..eh, typical milk chocolate. I prefer dark, mostly, but it's an agreeable enough base. The cereal chocolate bar definitely emphasizes the cinnamon, though - it's heavy. My first reaction was a little of a turnoff - seemed a bit strong, too soon, but by the end of my allocated portion I was just beginning to enjoy the overall flavor. The cinnamony bite is pretty balanced out by the choclate, and it makes for a fun flavor, not too much unlike Mexican hot chocolate.

But there's a problem. I expected there to be cereal here. But...there isn't. The "bits of crunchy cinnamon square cereal" the packaging promised aren't there, at all. At the very least I would have hoped for something like a typical crisped rice/Nestle Crunch kinda deal, with lots of crunchies everywhere, if not big actual cereal chunks. Yeah, nope. The couple little specks of cereal here and there are few and far between and add nary a textural variant. It's kinda disappointing in that regard, so there's some mega point deductions there.

Overall the bar tatstes about right, if you like cinnamon, of course. But it just doesn't feel right. There's just too much untapped potential here. For a couple bucks, the cinnamon cereal chocolate bar with cinnamon but not really cereal made an alright buy, but it's not a purchase I'd seek out to repeat over and over. Meh.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crunchy Cinnamon Squares Milk Chocolate Bar: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Whole Milk

We're beginning to approach the end of my oldest daughter's first formal year of schooling, and I'm continually amazed by how much she's learning. I'm sure every parent feels this way, to some degree, but man - my kid is smart. Just this past weekend, as I drove around town with her buckled up in the back of the minivan, I listened as she read off words she recognized on road signs and could read. "Car wash." "Burger." "Ice cream." And so on. And it was without any hesitation whatsoever - she read them as easily and breezily as any of us would. She's gonna be like Sandy, I think - a really good reader, her nose always stuck in a book somewhere. We already pack our bags full at the library on a regular basis, and most nights she'll beg for the light to left on as long as possible so she can keep on reading as late as she wants....

Which reminds me. I should probably move Trader Joe's Chocolate Whole Milk to a higher shelf in the fridge, out of the sightline of a five and a half year old. If she knows this is in our house, it's game over, and I want it all for myself. FOR ME!!!

It's been years since I've drank milk on any sort of regular basis. It's just not my thing any more. And whole milk? That's not what I grew up on. We were 1%, occasionally 2% family growing up. Certainly never skim - that always seemed a little pointless - but whole milk? Nah. That seemed a bit much.

But this milk? Holy cow. Almost literally. Maybe I'm still in sugar shock and a little buzzed, but I almost cannot believe how utterly delicious it is. Words kinda fail. It's just...try it. If you haven't already. Apparently this version of TJ's chocolate milk was available years ago, then discontinued and just brought back. Big Joe, whoever made that decision, give them a bonus!

It's thick and creamy and undeniably smooth, almost like drinking chocolate pudding or ice cream. Except even better! The chocolate flavor is rich and decadent, but is decidedly more towards cocoa than chocolate if that makes sense. It's a very pure kind of flavor, without being overly sugary tasting or too cloy or sickeningly sweet. Yes, I'm aware of all the added sugar. No, I do not care. It's called "treat yo' self." It's the kind of flavor that only a rich creamy base like whole milk would work with - anything else would be too thin to really flesh out the depth of flavor here abounding from each sip.

Even better, from personal expereince, it mixes well with a little Kahlua and vodka for a...well, I'm not sure what that'd be called. A mocha Russian? I'm sure there's many other alcoholic possibilities here - creme de menthe, anyone? If you got any other ideas, share away.

Anyways I have no doubt that my kiddo could at least read the words "chocolate" and "milk" and she's got just enough juvenile mischeviousness to try and guzzle away at some when ol' Mama and Dad are strugglin' out of bed in the morning. She's self sufficent enough to make her own breakfast half the time, which explains why she and her sister each ate three freezer waffles the other morning. She could figure out how to pour herself a cup, or beg us relentlessly...and sometimes Dada just wants to be greedy. Fortunately at $3.99 for the half gallon carton it's not exactly a costly fridge filler. Both Sandy and I cannot think of even the slightest of complaints or suggestions or anything - it's just some pretty darn good chocolate milk. Better than that, even.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Whole Chocolate Milk: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream

Oh ice cream, what would we do without you?

This is a serious question.

Listen, if I want anyone to do anything in my family, bribery is required, with ice cream being the promised booty of choice. Want kids to clean their room and not complain too much? Promise ice cream. Do Sandy and I (okay, mostly Sandy) have a huge pile of laundry to slay? If there's ice cream when we're done, no problem. Need to motivate ourselves for a run or to get other chores or if we need to celebrate a milestone or feel better about a crappy day or sometimes just because? Yup, ice cream on all those counts. Nothing puts a smile on our collective face better than a lil ice cream, especially if we say we're giving an "extra little bit" when scooping.

Yep, we love our ice cream out here...but we don't love Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream.

It's a pretty simple, classic construct. Kinda obviously, it's vanilla ice cream and fudgy little chips, and not much else. When there's such simplicity it can make your shortcomings all the more apparent. Other TJ's vanilla ice cream has taught me how absofreakindelish that plain ol' vanilla can be...this stuff is kinda the other end of the spectrum. It's just kinda amiss all the way around. It's not particularly creamy or flavorful or anything. Instead the ice cream kinda tastes and feels like somewhat chalky, cold dairy-like substance that vaguely tastes like the cardboard carton it comes in. That's not exactly high praise.

But the fudge chips? They're pretty good! Something seemed a little different yet familkiar about them, that I couldn't place until scanning the ingredients...coconut oil! Sandy has made some desserts made mostly from cocoa powder and coconut oil and some other stuff too, I'm sure, that these chips kinda tastelike. Coconut and chocolate almost always go great together, and even though it's pretty subtle here, the chips (of which there are plenty) are fairly choice and help pick up the rest of the dessert.

It goes without saying that our kids love this TJ's ice cream, as they're pretty easy to please with anything sugar related, but Sandy and I? Not huge fans. There's bonus points for being organic and whatnot, but man, if it doesn't feel or taste quite right, it ain't right. If this were our sole means of motioation, we might not get out of bed in the morning. No, wait, that's what we use coffee for...you know what we mean. We'll play nice and give it a five between us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Fudge Chip Ice Cream: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies

So if chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows...chocolate eggs come from chocolate chickens, right? That's gotta be how that works.

Don't laugh. Easter is coming up soon, and among many other things, that means it's Cadbury Creme Egg season. They have to come from somewhere. A factory? That's laughable. A chocolate chicken farm must exist, even if only in some Wonkaified version of reality, with those choco-chickens laying choco-eggs, and occasionally one or two of them drop and crack...

...because where else would we get Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies from? It's science, right?

All kidding aside, here's our first somewhat seasonally themed installment of yet even more holiday candy. You know, because the recent gauntlet of Halloween, Christmas and Valentine's Day wasn't quite enough...I digress. These eggies appear to be a fun novelty type item, and hey, it 's chocolate, can't be a bad thing, right? Right?

Well...

"Bad" isn't the right word for the TJ yolkies. But "delicious" isn't quite yet either. As you can see, it's milk chocolate exterior, with a pool of white chocolate inside, with a yellow mounded candy melt-type construction atop, all made to resemble some sort of egg/square hybrid. The whole shebang is a little heftier than they look.

Oh, and inside that that yellow dome is a teeny itty bitty squirt of caramel sauce, to be resemble something like a runny egg yolk. It'd work....if there were more caramel. There's barely any! That leaves the whole candy seeming like a big square of, in all, fairly nondescript chocolate. Good chocolate, but pretty plain.

I could see these being a fun toss in for a kid's Easter basket. At $2.69, it's not an awful price for something kinda fun. Most likely though, it'd leave something to be desired for us big kids. Sandy didn't even bother finishing hers and said, somewhat dejectedly, "I feel like I wasted my treat tonight." Ouch. I'm not quite that forlorn, but I'd be okay with them not coming around again, either. No offense to the chocolate chickens, but they definitely did kinda lay an egg here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Caramel Yolkies: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup

Congrats, it's been done. It was bound to sooner or later.

After eight years and hundreds of reviews, I've been thoroughly stumped as to how to otherwise start a review of a TJ's product.

Usually I have a slice of life or dumb joke or mini info-burst about something that at least tangentially has to do with something, but not this time with Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup. I've been mulling it over for close to a week, but I got nothing.

Nothing new to say about snacky nuts or bourbon or maple syrup or anything that has to do with these nuts. No great stories. No puns or jokes or anything. Just me and a bag of nuts that sound pretty amazing.

I'll grant that these bourbon maple glazed walnuts are good...but odd. There's a definite added buttery taste (it's the second ingredient) that adds an unexpected creamy blast, with all sorts of added sugar too. And not maple syrup-kinda sugar...just sugar.

So these are some pretty sweet walnuts, practically candy. There's some sweet maple taste at the end, for sure, but it's really tough to pick up on any bourbon aspects. The package says something along the lines of "earthiness" which isn't there, either, aside from the inherent nutty taste. It's some pretty good quality walnuts, by the way - nice and chunky, definitely munchy, a little roasty.

They're tasty by the handful, and would probably be good in things like brownies. The package recommends atop salad as well - in the right kind, that could work. Still, I feel as if the buttery coating holds back the product from it could fully be - some more straight up bourbon-y maple would be fantastic. Eh well. Still pretty tasty, and both Sandy and I had to hold ourselves back from chomping down the whole bag - they're pretty snackable for sure, so watch out.

For $3.99 for a half pound bag, it's a fairly respectable value as well. I'd get them again for sure, and maybe by then I'd think of some sort of wittier intro...but right now, it's just driving me nuts.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

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.