Trader Joe's Candy Corn Popcorn

I'm not a huge fan of picking up Halloween products before the leaves have turned and the air gets chilly, but TJ's releases these things in September, and we've got to strike while the iron is hot. Also, we're reviewing this sooner than later for the benefit of you readers. Knowing Trader Joe's, they'll be sold out next week, and they'll discontinue the product forever, and you'll be pulling your hair out, shopping for it on eBay at some obscene markup. I mean, hopefully, that won't happen, but if you're a fan of candy corn and/or caramel corn, I wouldn't take the chance...

Because this stuff is pretty yummy. It does, in fact, taste like candy corn. I think it tastes like caramel corn, too. But it's a very high-quality kind of caramel corn. It's on par with the Pumpkin Spice Caramel Corn we checked out just about exactly two years ago. I'm not even particularly fond of regular caramel corn. Never have been. But fancy, flavored, gimmicky, sexy, newfangled caramel corn? Yes, please.

As far as candy corn is concerned—as a kid, I was obsessed with it. I waited all year for those waxy, triangular sugar drops, and I'd inhale as much as my parents would allow during the season. I'd pray for lots of little bags of it during trick or treating, and they were among the first of the confections devoured on Halloween night. 

Sonia? Not so much. She thinks candy corn is kinda gross. But she still enjoyed this product because, in her words, "the candy corn presence is subtle." I see where she's coming from. It's not really an overpowering flavor. Candy corn haters may enjoy it despite an aversion to classic candy corn.

On the texture front, we're looking at nice, big, whole, popped corn kernels. They're fresh and crunchy. They'd be fluffy white if not coated in that slightly waxy, firm, sugary glaze. There are three colors in the bag: yellow, orange, and clear. I wouldn't have minded if they were three different flavors...but I guess that wouldn't be true to the candy corn theme.

It's a nice combination of two classic junk foods. It's a little addictive, too. Two people just might polish off the bag in one sitting. $1.99 for 5 oz. If I were rich, I'd hand out whole bags of this to the trick or treaters.

If your local store is sold out before your next TJ's run, you could always try melting a bunch of candy corns in the microwave and then dumping them over a bowl of popcorn, but I doubt it would turn out this well. Double fours for this product.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's ABC Bars

I'm Always Buying Crack at Trader Joe's—not literal crack, just highly-addictive substances that happen to be nice and legal. ABC could stand for so many things here. I might refer to them as they're meant to be called: Almond Butter Cocoa. Or I could ask Sonia to Absolutely Bring the Chewies on our next hike. They're definitely Addictive Bars, Creamy. They're vegan, so they're free of Animal Byproducts, Completely.

Flavor-wise, I might call these Amaretto Blast Cookies. The flavor is almondy—but it's such a sweet almond flavor, I think it tastes a bit like amaretto—though not alcoholic in the least. I think they taste more like amaretto than either almond butter or cocoa, quite honestly. Sonia thinks the cocoa dominates the almond butter slightly. I'm not sure if I agree or not. They're just sweet—but not overly so, nutty, buttery, and not unlike confectionalized amaretto. Scrump-dilly.

Texture-wise, they're surprisingly soft. I might describe the mouthfeel as A Bed of Comfort. They're definitely chewy rather than crunchy, but there's a much greater "melt-in-your-mouth" factor than, say, most "chewy" granola bars or cookies. 

They're gluten-free, so...Absolutely Buy'em Celiac-sufferers. Price-wise, ABC is easy as 1, 2, 3 dollars, with a total of six in the box. That makes them about 50 cents a piece. They are kinda small, but they're rich, dense, and more filling than you might expect. Sonia and I would put them on par with the average Clif, Luna, or Balance bar in terms of hunger-curbing capacity, with a slightly better overall value.

This is another thumbs up from both of us. Sonia will dish out her second four and a half stars in a row. Put me down for four again.

Awesome Bars, Conclusively.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Thai Tea Mini Mochi

I'm not sure when I was first introduced to it, but I've been a fan of Thai iced tea for a long time now. If you're ever at a good Thai place, definitely try the Thai iced tea. Some restaurants make it better than others, but when it's good, it's absolutely delicious. I'm pretty sure it's a type of black tea, but with plenty of coconut milk and sugar up in the mix. When it's served, there's a cool layered effect with white at the top, black on the bottom, and a nice orange-brown in the middle—check out the photo in this article.

These mochi bites captured the flavor fairly well, but both Sonia and I thought it was a little less sweet than the Thai iced tea we're used to. Sonia was fine with that. Since they're definitely a dessert food, I wouldn't have minded them a little sweeter, but they're still pretty tasty the way they are.

I also thought they overdid it with the flour on the outside of the gelatinous shells. The mochis were absolutely covered in the stuff. At first, I thought it might have been powdered sugar, but it wasn't sweet. A couple times, I actually coughed from inhaling some of it. 

The pic above was taken immediately after our 25 minute drive home from TJ's. They melted a little in the sweltering heat and a tiny bit of ice cream jumped out of their shells—fortunate for the sake of the pic in that you can see the color and texture of the actual ice cream there in the top two corners of the tray.

Other mochis we've tried from TJ's are all significantly larger than these. I guess that's why these are called "mini mochi." You could theoretically pop the entire mochi ball into your mouth in one bite, but you might suffer some serious brain freeze. I preferred to eat them in two small bites. 

With a serving size of 6 pieces and 210 calories, this is one of the more satisfying dessert foods we've seen in a while. Also, they're dairy-free, using coconut milk instead of cow's milk, but they're still nice and creamy. The tapioca and rice-based shells are soft and thin, just like we've seen from other Trader Joe's mochi offerings.

Sonia gives these ice cream treats four and a half stars. I give them four. $3.49 for 15 mini mochi balls.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Black Licorice Treads

Tire treads can be awfully scary or just plain awful.

Two quick stories: Couple years ago, got on the PA Turnpike. Less than five minutes into a 300 mile drive, an 18 wheeler blew a tire as I was passing them. Tread tore right off and flew right towards our windshield. I thought we were goners...but some real nifty air current wind tunnel vortex-type voodoo (or just maybe the hand of God)  caught it and sailed right over us and onto the empty lane behind us. I don't think I breathed for the next hundred miles.

Another time, not as dire but didn't work out as well: Totally ran over a tire tread on the highway and busted up the whole underside of our car. Stopped at a truck stop for duct tape to make it the rest of the way home. Got "bit by an alligator" in trucker lingo, apparently. Almost $1000 in damage in an instant.

Fortunately, Trader Joe's Black Licorice Treads are of a happier variant. I mean, it's candy. They'd never make a candy version of anything harmful or awful or anything, right? These are totally candy sticks! 

Anyways, think a flattened out black Twizzler plank, and that's about what we got here. I'd approximate each TJ tread at about three Twizzler's worth, maybe four. Biting into a piece definitely gives about the same satisfaction as biting into multiple Twizzlers but is a little softer and less thick overall. Maybe it's the lack of airtube in the middle, which sadly means I can't make double use of them as a straw. Doh.

The flavor is a little different, though. I'd admit I'm used to black licorice being flavored mostly by anise, and there's a little bit of that to be had here. But most of the flavor seems to come more from actual licorice root, with which I'm not as familiar. I wouldn't say it's rich or vibrant or deep or whatever adjectives the packaging uses. It's more subtle and subdued, and it takes a few chews to get really worked out. Maybe it's only because it's a little different from a Twizzler and it has TJ's name on it, but I kinda want to say almost "more refined." Interpret as you wish, I'm an unabashed TJ's fanboy.

Good licorice treads for real. Would have been ideal for our recent road trip, on which we somehow avoided any vehicular shenanigans of any sort. As my family says when it's all good, "No dents, no tickets." Good approach here, as these are pretty good snackers I probably won't tire of. Give them a spin. Hoping I'm not inflating too much when I say double fours. Okay, this is getting worn out...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Black Licorice Treads: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Chunk Cantuccini

As I'm offically entering the later part of my thirties, I'm learning more and more that adulthood is a series of learning to embrace and enjoy different shades and forms of bitterness. It's not exactly a bad thing. Like coffee, for instance. Or alcohol. Or, even, disappointment. Those are all cups from which I drink often.

I'm on a small disappointment streak with TJ's products, and Trader Joe's Chocolate Chunk Cantuccini are just a continuation of that trend. I can partially pin all this on me. The other night, while semi-listening to my lovely bride prattle on about her most recent TJ's trip, I heard her say "blahblahblah chocolate something-chini biscotti blahlblahblah" which my mind instantly, without though, translated into chocolate zucchini bread-inspired biscotti. Now that sounds intriguing and seasonally appropriate, and maybe something zany that ol' Joe would whip up. If you haven't had good zucchini bread ever, I don't know what to tell you.

So, imagine my disappointment when I popped one of these kinda Italian mini biscuits in my mouth...and tasted just a regular old chocolate chip biscotti. Except smaller.

Sigh.

Cantuccini is what I should have heard, not zucchini. Not familiar with the term? Me neither, but apparently it's an almost interchangable term with biscotti (i.e., biscuit), except cantucci are apparently more from Tuscany, and the -ini means they're smaller. Meh.

It's small chocolate chip biscotti. Nothing more, nothing less. Kinda almondy and earthy, with a vague sweetness, without quite the flavor of a full blown chocolate chip cookie...yup. No icing or any extras, with only a few small chocolate bits to vainly try to break the monotony. And they're smaller, making them less handy to dunk into coffee or tea or milk or anything. They also seem crunchier, maybe due to their condensed size. Sandy said they didn't seem to soften up when dunked either.

Blah. Disappointment. I really wanted to love these bitty biskies, but nope. There's nothing special about them, nothing to set them apart. In a word, they're boring. I'm disappointed. But I can embrace that, I guess, along with some coffee. Such is life. Matching twos from our house to yours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Chunk Cantuccini: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzels

Show me a person who says s/he doesn't like soft pretzels, and I'll show you a liar.

It's impossible to not enjoy a quality soft pretzel. I mean...salty carbs, what else do you need, right? Some folks say that Philadelphia is the capital of soft pretzels, but even though I'm from that area, I disagree to an extent. Philly-style soft pretzels are often cold, a bit stale-ish, a bit more "hard" than "soft", and if bought from a street vendor who hasn't had a health department inspection in a while, who know what "extras." I mean, given the opportunity, I'll down close to my weight in them - soft pretzel party platters from these guys are the devil - but an actual warm, soft, slightly chewy pretzel with a slightly crispy outer shell? Give me that all day long.

That's what we got with Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzels. Straight up, there's nothing too fancy about them. At $2.49 for a frozen foursome of handsized dough knots, it's a respectable value but nothing to get too crazed about...

...except, man, as any good pretzel, they're freakin' delish. To prep, you may choose to either heat for a couple minutes in the oven, or let thaw for about an hour or so. Most other frozen soft pretzels say to microwave them, which is a cardinal sin. That makes the pretzels hard and tough and generally not as enjoyable.


Sandy made these TJ's softies as part of a light "snacky" dinner the other night using both methods. The pretzels heated in the oven were softier and almost flufflier on the inside than the one we let thaw out, which makes sense. It's a pretty plain dough, with slight eggy flavor from the shell, and both types had that requisite chewiness. Couldn't seem to really get the salt to stick to the thawed out one, though, as much as we tried.

Oh. Salt. There's plenty of it, in the typical big grain crunchy crystal variety. I'm not even sure we used 10% of it. The rest is going into the winter sidewalk deicing stash for sure.

Not much else to really say, it's a good pretzel. Eat as is, melt some cheese on top, dip into whatever you'd like...it'll all work. Can't exactly go wrong. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Big Soft Pretzel: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Neapolitan Joe-Joe's

When I first heard Neapolitan Joe-Joe's were a thing, I thought maybe there were chocolate Joe-Joe's, vanilla Joe-Joe's, and strawberry Joe-Joe's all in one package, kinda like the ice cream. But when I realized all three flavors were present in each Joe-Joe, I was even more curious. Which flavor would dominate? Wouldn't all three flavors be at odds with one another, kicking, biting, and scratching their way to beat the other two to your taste buds like a cutthroat free-for-all of flavors?

The short answer to that question is "no." They actually work together. But if you're wondering which flavor would have won that hypothetical miniature battle royale, I'll just go ahead and say in my humble opinion, strawberry would have. Strawberry creme. Heck yes. Sonia agrees.

Chocolate comes in second in this equation. I think that I, personally, might have enjoyed these cookies slightly more if they had gone with two vanilla cookies on either side of the strawberry creme and simply called them Trader Joe's Strawberry Joe-Joe's. That would have allowed the sweet, delicious strawberry flavor to shine even more. 

The chocolate cookie part of a sandwich cookie is usually not bad, but it rarely impresses me either. The chocolate cookies have a slightly more pungent taste than the vanilla cookies, but they blend well enough with the strawberry flavor that I didn't mind them much at all. After all, chocolate and strawberry is an excellent flavor combo.

We've tried a lot of Joe-Joe's and Joe-Joe derivatives throughout the years, and these are among the best. $2.99 for a pound of cookies. 3 rows of 11, all wrapped together in plastic and cellophane. I suppose it would add some cost and a little extra packaging, but individually wrapping each row might help keep some of the cookies fresher longer in case you're not planning on eating 33 cookies in one sitting—but for the sake of being "green" I guess we can put the remainder in ziplock baggies that we already have around the house. 

Double fours.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Milk & Dark Chocolate Butterscotch Bits Bar

I really can't believe what I'm about to write here...

...but, skipping all formalities and warmth and fuzziness, don't bother with Trader Joe's Milk & Dark Chocolate Butterscotch Bits Bar. At all. It's completely unenjoyable and will make you question who thought of such of an awful concoction.

No, this isn't some sort of warped attempt to dissuade all potential buyers so I can corner the market and stockpile all of them for myself. I'm serious. Don't' Buy. Ever. I don't care that it's $1.79 and sounds delicious, because that's exactly how Sandy and I got suckered in during a recent trip that we made while bordering on raging hangriness.

I'll give it this much, as it's only postive point. The chocolate, both the milk and dark (as nicely swirled on the bottom of the bar), are delicious. If you know TJ's chocolate, you know it's pretty much always on point. That's the case here, and the milk and the dark meld together nicely in a contrasting tones of creamy and solid, with sweetness and depth. That part is good, but it's what's kinda expected at this point.

Everything else? Awful. Butterscotch bits? Are you kidding me? There's probably more butterscotch bits in Milton Hershey's couch cushions than in this bar. I detected a few crystallized crumbs here and there, but it could be anything in the world, there's not enough to detect any hint of butterscotch. In the half a bar I ate, I encountered a possible butterscotch essence maybe once. It could have been miniscule bits of gravel in there for all I could tell.

But it gets worse. This is one chocolate bar that's actually painful to eat. How to explain...it'd be better if we took a picture of it but we thought the bottom swirls were pretty and more photogenic before cramming in the piehole. It's one of those bars alternates in form between divots and chunks. Like plateaus and valleys, so as to segment a bar, or as Sandy more succinctly put it, a beefed-up Toberlone candy bar. That's fine...but the "plateaus" are so tall and steep, yet so small with so little space between them, that biting into one of these is a nightmare. Your teeth naturally go sledding downhill, leaving the plateaued parts to jab your in the gums. I'm not making this up. Sandy had much the same experience. I guess, maybe in retrospect, if eaten one segment at a time and consumed sideways, it could have worked better...but still. it's as if whoever came up with the form of this bar didn't understand teeth or resented poeple who had them. It hurts. And this isn't a case of it getting too hard because of being in the fridge or freezer these hot summer months...we ate it within an hour of purchase, so it was basically at warmish room temperature.

And to top it off, it's a ten segment bar, with the chocolate bar consisting of three servings per the label. "That's not even fair or right!" Sandy the serving-size policewoman expressed dejectedly. 

Not a fan. At all. A little butterscotch could have redeemed the bar quite a bit, but I'm grasping at saying much of anything nice. Quality chocolate can be had very easily at TJ's, with actual other flavors mixed in, and so far not any other one made my mouth hurt. In all, this TJ's butterscotch chocolate bar is one of the most disappointing purchases I've ever made at TJ's, rivaled perhaps only by these failures. Maybe this is just some built up angst and spite, but I'm going zero here, while Sandy chimes in with a one simply because it's chocolate.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Milk & Dark Chocolate Butterscotch Bits Bar: 1 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Old Fashioned Waffle Cones and Trader Joe's Ultra Chocolate Ice Cream

We haven't crossed too terribly much off the family bucket list this summer, but one thing we've done without fail: go out to a different ice cream shop every week. And not a Coldstone or Baskin Robbins either, but an independent, roadside type place. Without fail...and it's been awesome.

But there's a problem. See, I like waffle cones, a lot. And the Good Lord, when I was born, decided to grace with a tremendous underbite that I have declined to ever get fixed. Surgically breaking and resetting a jaw and being subjected to a summer at home with Mom and Dad eating baby food during college when instead I could be off at campus didn't seem like fun. To help cover this up, and also because without it I look like a 14 year old with an hyperactive pituitary gland, I have grown a fairly large, bushy beard. The wife loves it and won't let me do more than an occasional trim.

As a result, between my wacky jaw and crazy beard, it's impossible for me to eat an ice cream neatly. I've tried all sorts of different techniques...nope. It cannot be done. My three year old is neater than me, and we usually have to hose her off. Strangers gasp. Kids stare. Napkins cringe. It's bad.

Fortunately, bettween Trader Joe's Old Fashioned Waffle Cones, and, say, Trader Joe Ultra Chocolate Ice Cream, I can contain my embarrassment at home.

Waffle cones at first. A good waffle cone, in of itself, is one of life's simple pleasures. Why settle for one of those styrofoam type deals...when you can get a waffle cone? These TJ cones are no exception. They're appropriately thick and sturdy, with enough space to amply hold a couple scoops. That's key. When bitten into, there's lots of crunch-and-munch-ability, with little chance of these guys getting soggy. But then there's an added bonus: there's a sweet, almost creamy, vanilla flavor shining through the batter that adds a really nice little touch. Really, these are pretty greta cones, and at $2.99 for a dozen, not a bad deal. Most ice cream shops charge what, an extra 50 cents (at least) for a waffle cone? These are 25 cents each! Nice!

As for the Ultra Chocolate Ice Cream...meh. It's decent ice cream, don't get me wrong. But chocolate by itself doesn't quite get my motor running. That being said, the TJ's chocolate ice cream is better than average chocolate. The cocoa flavor is rich with depth and is fairly potent, more than a typical chocolate. It's probably a good thing there aren't any mix-ins or added flavors as they would probably be overpowered. And from seeing how hard this ice cream freezes, it's made from good quality ingredients too. Lots of milk and cream and eggs and the like. In all, pretty good, even if it's not all my thing. If you're a chocoholic, though? You'll be all over this.

The waffle cones will be a summer staple, for sure. We do ice cream far more than we should at home...it's hot and we ahve no AC and get tired and cranky easily. Don't judge. As for the ice cream? It'll be in and out, I think. Neither Sandy nor I are huge fans but our kids sure are, and by God, if it'll help them eat anything other than mac and cheese for dinner, we're for it. Waffle cones earn near top marks, while the ultra chocolate ice crwam comes in a little behind.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Old Fashioned Waffle Cones: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons and Trader Joe;s Ultra Chocolate Ice Cream: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 8 Mini Raspberry Pastries

So what we have here are essentially Belgian Danishes. How exactly does that work? Mightn't the Danes be offended that the Belgians have been ripping off their signature multilayered puff pastries with fruit filling? Are the Belgians no longer content just being known for waffles and cookie butter? Could such an offense start an international conflict of sorts? Even a war?

Probably not. The Danes and the Belgians seem like relatively peaceful folk to me. Northern Europeans have left their ancient Viking ways behind them. If there were a conflict between the two nations in question, it would most likely be settled on the football pitch—er, sorry, "soccer" for all you Yanks. Both squads, particularly Belgium, were looking like pretty good contenders for the World Cup—right up until this past week or so. But hey, there's always Qatar 2022.

Back to the food review. The picture on the packaging clearly depicts round Danishes—I mean pastries. But when we opened our bag, we found little frozen squares. After baking, they were more like squares with rounded edges. Our pastries required a little more time in the oven than the instructions called for (20 min.) but the first batch was still on the undercooked side. After removing them from the oven, they stuck tenaciously to the foil that lined our baking sheet.

Sonia says the pastries are "very buttery." I'd call them "oily" or "greasy," but I guess that's basically the same thing but with a slightly more negative connotation. The breading is soft and flavorful, and the raspberry filling is plentiful, sweet, and full of real raspberry. The fruity taste of the filling tends to overshadow the bready flavor of the actual pastry. I like fruit filling just fine, but I think these could have had just a tad more bread and a tad less fruit. Didn't think I'd ever have to make that request, yet there it is. I'm sure plenty of people would be more than okay with the amount of fruit here. It's just the carbivore in me craving more bread.

Eight pastries in the bag for $3.99. Eight servings in the bag. Serving size one pastry? I guess that's not quite as ridiculous as "half a cookie," but these Belgian Danishes aren't even as big as normal cookies. Most people aren't going to stop at one unless they're sampling other desserts or turned off by the oiliness. Also, the name: 8 Mini Raspberry Pastries? Lame. I think they should have played up the Belgian Danish angle and called them Trader Joe's BelDanes or something catchy and quirky like that. I know, I must have missed my true calling as a marketing guru. Such is life.

Four stars from Sonia. Three stars from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt

There's a few classic blunders and major pitfalls out there. You know most of them already: reading the comments on almost any Internet article (except here, y'all are great), getting involved in land wars in Asia or going up aginst a Sicilian when death is on the line. No duhs on any of those.

Another one or two is true in our house; Sandy and I have a rule we don't really talk about anything too in depth before we have coffee, and to not nag her for a bite of anything she's eating, especially on a busy morning after she's refueling from a marathon training run, and before she has a long hot day with our kiddos. Plus, please, our kids always want to eat what she's eating, so she doesn't need me to ask her for a bite of anything...

...except a smallish blunder was made on her part, when she bought only one cup of Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt. I needed something to review, and apparently this stuff has been all the buzz on TJ's related Instagram, so I broke all sorts of household rules in order just to get two measly little bites from which I am basing this entire review, along with help from my lovely bride.

This TJ's Greek yogurt is much like others: creamy, a bit tangy, appropriately thick. Kinda par for the course in that regard. In my albeit limited tasting, the flavor strayed a lot more towards coconut than almond butter, which to me makes sense given the general comparative richness of the two. Almond butter has always been a very sublte flavor for me. But, definitely heavy on the shredded coconut. Along with some fruit and coffee, I could see this being a very filling breakfast, though perhaps not one I'd be inclined to do too often. I'm just not cultured enough to be much of a yogurt guy.

Sandy, though, disagrees with me. She said the almond butter is a much stronger flavor, whereas shemore "felt" the coconut. That doesn't jive with my experience, but I'd be more inclined to believe her many spoonfuls to my few.

But we both agree it's good, not earthshattering yogurt. Perhaps it was her endorphins winding down or her caffeination not quite kicked in yet, but Sandy was pretty ho-hum about it. "It's good," she said. "I'd definitely buy it again, but it's not going to be my new go-to yogurt." Make of that what you will, and before any more blunders are made, let's wrap this up.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives

You've heard of the summer of love...this summer just might be the summer of olives here.

Years ago, if you would have told me that my lovely bride would like olives that weren't just of the canned and black variety, I would have laughed. That's just not what she did...along with many other foods.  Like meatloaf or steak or most red meats or Thai food or chili or pickles or most veggies or anything. I remember asking with trepidation when we were dating if it'd be okay if I made her chocolate chip cookies. I had a really picky girlfriend, apparently, which really adds to the confusion of why she ever picked me.

Now she loves all that stuff, pretty sure me as well, and when she does something like pick up some olives and other cool goodies off a grocery store salad bar to bring home for dinner, it's just not terribly surprising. We've done that a few times recently. The slightly pickled garlic cloves? Awesome! Time changes you, I guess.

Still, Sandy's pretty hesitant about Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives. She hasn't tried them, still kinda sticking to her claim that she doesn't like green olives.

I'll get her to, though. Oh I will. Unless I eat all of them first.

I've never heard of a "chalkidiki" olive before. Apparently they're named after a region of Greece and are basically just big and green. That's more or less how they taste as well - big and green, and perhaps a little firmer than the smaller, pimento stuffed olives I'm more accustomed to from growing up.

The creamy cheese filling is pretty delicious, too. Took me a second or thrid read when I noticed the lack of usual bleu cheese bite...but it's not "bleu" cheese, it's "blue" cheese." Well, whatever. It's soft and creamy, a lot  like cream cheese, and jives really well with the olive to make a cool, refreshing, salty snack or addition to antipasto platter.

And typing this I just realized the true appeal to me...

Growing up, on occasion, my mom would make us cream cheese and olive sandwiches. Maybe that sounds odd, but they're delicious. Granted, they were made with those aforementioned pimentoed olives and Philadelphia cream cheese, and the ingredients in these Greek-inspired TJ's olives are perhaps a little fancier than that. But there's still a familiar, yet fancier vibe. I dig it.

It's only a couple bucks for a huge jar. I think it's about $3 or $, but I've misplaced the receipt so I'm open to correction. It strikes me as a decent enough value, and something I hope we pick up on a regular basis this summer as we swelter through and hot dinners just don't sound as appetizing while living in a 100 year old, well insulated brick house with no AC. It's like a Thermos. Great in winter, but not right now. Unlike this olives...if it's the summer of olives, bring it on.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins

Is it okay to admit that I'm not fully understanding of the entire concept behind the new Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins?

This much is easy to grasp: there's a direct, and fairly easy, comparison to be made between these cookies and the all time classic Girl Scout Thin Mints. As if the "chocolate covered chocolate mint cookie" isn't obvious by its lonesome, the TJ's packaging hones in by showing a campground, tents, a sing-along campfire song on the side (because why not)...and even a cut out "hibiscosity" merit badge of sorts. That's cool and all, I get it.

Seems like the word "coins" throws it all off though. Having never been a Girl Scout myself (and flaking out of Boy Scouts not long after making Tenderfoot class), I'm not aware of any connections between scouting and coins...I could be wrong and ignorant, and perhaps somewhat rationally so, but it seems a better name would be something like "badges" or "try-its" or even just plain "cookies."

Although on the other hand, I do somewhat get the coin label, as the cookies are about quarter sized in diameter, and they were minted at point of origin...it's a bit too confusing. Ayy.

Back to the Thin Mint deal. There's a lot of similarities between them and these TJ's chocolate mint discs, but I'll focus on the differences. First, the size. TJ's minty wafers are definitely smaller and perhaps a bit thicker. They also taste a little different...can I say "fudgier"? That's the word that comes to mind. It may be the darker variety of chocolate. There's also seemingly a small dent/reservoir of extra chocolate in the middle of the TJ's cookies that adds a slightly richer element. So while I'd say the two are close, I wouldn't say they're completely identical.

Although both are really good frozen, which is especially nice this time of year.

One knock: the packaging. Inside the TJ's box, these cookies are kept in a little plastic bag, as one would expoect. Thing is, the bag looks only half full. Listen, I get the "sold by weight, not by volume" and "some settling may occur" but it's like these are fragile cookies that got smashed into bits, freeing up previously filled space. Nah...instead, whether fair or not, the half baggie of coins gives the perception of getting shortchanged.

Regardless, these are pretty delicious cookies, as one would expect. At only a couple bucks, these coins won't set you back a lot of change. Glad to have scouted them out for you.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte

So..anyone have an interesting story or anecdote or joke or anything about a peach tart?

No?

Me neither.

So that makes the kickoff of this review of Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte a little more difficult and less fun...until the Internet came to the rescue, yet again.

Here I was, just brushing up on the differences between pies and tarts, when I came across this potentially interesting info burst: this tart (pardon moi, tarte) is really more a gallete than anything else.

Rounded, kinda non-defined in form, fruit filled with crust folding over a bit and baked on a sheet? Yes to all of the above. Call it what it is, TJ's - this is a gallete.

Aside from the inadvertant culinary education and cultural refinement, there's not much this peachy pie parodist really offers. I mean, it's okay and all. The crust seems the right amount of flaky and firm, the peaches won't be confused for picked fresh or canned, and the cream portion (if I can even call it that) is a bit underwhleming. Sandy actually wondered aloud about the last part - really, it's just a thin spread between the fruit and crust, and it can be easily overlooked.

The fruit filling borders on a bit too syrupy sweet, though. I've had this weird lingering aftertaste for the past while after having a slice, and it's not entirely pleasant. Maybe it'd be dissipated if served with a little vanilla ice cream or something.

But yeah, not that special, not that great. The TJ peach and cream tart cost about $5 and took half an hour in the oven to warm up, and for that, I'd say it's probably not worth it. I'd hate to ding too much, but I'm struggling of outright positive things to really say. Sandy can't muster any more than a middlin' three, and I feel compelled to be a little lower. I mean, if it can't even be called the right thing...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies

Half a cookie.

Wait. Half a cookie?!?!?!?!

I'm a guy, and aside from the bathroom paint job that's sat idle the past couple months, I don't do anything halfway, much less when it comes to one of the best things ever: food.

I don't eat just half a burger. I don't drink just half a beer. I may on occasion eat only half a pizza, but that was mainly back in college. That hasn't happened for a while. And I don't drink just half a coffee, unless it's the tepid brownesque swill from the work pot.

And I sure as heck don't eat just half a cookie.

Unfortunately that's the serving size for a Trader Joe's Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookie, and to doublr down on my woes, my lovely bride is the serving size enforcer. It says half, you get half. I had the indignity of having to share my cookie with her the other night, so tonight, right before writing this, when I had the chance to go whole cookie all by my bad self, I manned up and did it.

Ooof.

These choco-squared TJ's cookies are no joke. A little crisp, a little moist, a little chewy,and they're definitely heavy on the chocolate, as one might expect. It doesn't really hit how potently choco-licious these cocoa-concoctions are until eating a whole cookie...by the end I had had enough. The big choco-chunks made a nice varient to the overall doughy softness, that had a just a little greasy crisp to the outside. It reminded me of something, but couldn't quite think of it...

"Like the corners from a brownie pan," Sandy said.

Yes. That's almost precisely it.

As one may expect, these cookies are atrocious for you. Gotta treat yo'self sometimes and after having salad for two meals, one of these didn't hurt too much from a caloric intake perspective. My taste buds begged to differ - by the last bite, it was enough. Not that I'd ever admit that, and if given the chance I'd eat another whole one...but if my wife or kids asked for a bite, I may choose, out of my grace, to not be so greedy as to keep the whole cookie for myself.

Not too many negatives. Sandy wishes she could eat a whole one without feeling guilty, limitng her score to a 3.5. A couple bites I had tasted a little salty - not necessarily in an unwelcome way, but it was definitely a little uneven. The four pack cost around $4, so it was a mid-level value at best. I'll go with a 3.5 as well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Crunch Dried Honeycrisp Apples

Our sweetness streak continues with this applicious snack, but in this case, there's absolutely no added sugar, and you definitely can't say we're not getting some fruit in our diets...

I've had apple chips before, but none have been as sweet or as flavorful as these. The Fuji Apple Slices received less than a stellar score here on the blog, but I think this honeycrisp variety might work slightly better for people craving something a little more sweet and a bit less tart. 

They flaunt the same delicious honey-esque flavor of a honeycrisp apple. Very little is lost in the drying process. Obviously they lack the juiciness of a real apple, but taste-wise, I think they're remarkably close.

The largest apple slices were big enough to be called "chips," but as we neared the middle of our bag, the pieces were more like "shards" of apple. Toward the bottom, we found what I'd probably refer to as "bits" or "crumbs." They were pulverized, presumably in transit, to the point where they became difficult to eat. 

That's really my only complaint about this product: only the largest pieces could be called "slices" or "chips," and those were by far the best. Pouring a bag of apple dust into your mouth isn't nearly as convenient as snacking on dried fruit chips.

The texture is crunchy, crisp, and brittle. They're less rigid than, say, banana chips, but slightly firmer than other dried apple chips in my experience.

Who says you have to wait for fall apple harvest to enjoy apples? I'm pretty sure this product was just released this spring. Even in light of the shattered pieces, I'd buy this bag of dried apples again since it's tasty and not particularly fattening. Also, the "Best By" date on our bag is October 24, 2020. Might not be a bad idea to stock up in case that long overdue zombie apocalypse finally occurs.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Cartwheel Cookies

Sorry, everyone...but apparently we're on a sugar high here. Nothing but desserty-esque goodness for review last week, and here we go again. It's a one way ticket to Diabeetusville here. Please see Wilfred Brimley for your box on your way out.

One of these days we'll go back to reviewing salads and some healthyish type kinda stuff like vegan cream cheese alternatives...but not today. Not when there's Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Cartwheel Cookies to talk about.

Give me peanut butter, or give me death. I'm a total complete junky. I could go all Hurley from "Lost" on a jarful at any time...and cookies? Forget about it. I'm helpless here.

Really helps these are some most excellent pb cookies from TJ's.

These particular cartwheely confections are unlike most peanut butter cookies I've had. Instead of just fork smashed flavored batter with or without chips, the approach here is a literal resorvoir of nutty goodness. I mean, look at the pic. Yummm. It's good peanut butter too, though perhaps admittedly perhaps a bit closer to JIF than the real high quality stuff. Then again, it's a cookie, and at least it's creamy and not too dry or anything of that sort.

All of that is enveloped inside a real good, crumbly cookie. At first bite, I wasn't sure if the cookie straddled the sugar or shortbread side of the line at first before settling more towards sugar cookie. But it blends nicely with the peanut butter portion for a smooth, strong distinct pb taste.

Therein may lie my only suggestion, as it's not a complaint, per se. But TJ's cartwheels seem perhaps a little "one note" if you know what I mean. Something small to add maybe a little texture distinction, like a smattering of chopped peanuts, would be a welcome addition.

These will be a hit. Sandy and I are a bit sad that there's only nine cookies per box, as we both could smash them all in one sitting. As is, one of us will get five and the other four, assuming we can keep our kids out of them. Sharing cookies? Who does that? No one on this sugar train, for sure. Darn near perfect cookies.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Cartwheel Cookies: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Manyberry Apple Pie with Rhubarb Fruit Crumble Pie

Dessert Week continues here at What's Good at Trader Joe's...

We review a good many desserts on this blog, but I can't remember the last time we tackled three sweet dessert foods in a single week. It's been a while. It's almost like we're celebrating something über-sweet that happened recently in the sports world...

It's a veritable celebration of sweetness. And they're all new products at TJ's. Way to help people attain their summer beach bodies, Trader Joe's. Is this all part of some kind of underhanded population control effort? Is this some kind of conspiracy?

I think there's another conspiracy going on here: a conspiracy of crumbs. Ah, but you did warn us about this one ahead of time. Right there on the packaging, "hidden in plain sight," as they say...you call this conspiratorial confection a "crumble." And crumble it does. Crumble it shall. Crumble, crumble, crumble, like the Golden Knights in game 5.

It's ant season here in the mid-Atlantic region. And ants love crumbs. Did you work out some kind of deal with America's pest control services, TJ's? Do you get a cut when ant elimination services make record amounts of calls this month? Because there were so many crumbs floating around in the box when I opened it that I could completely fill the void in the pie tin left from the first slice of pie with nothing but excess crumbs. I'm not even sure where they came from. When one cuts into the pie with a fork, the larger pieces of crust *explode* with smaller crumbs. Good thing my dogs and I all love crumbs. I grabbed the ones on the counter, and Alfred and Sadie slurped up the ones on the floor. 

Crummy crumbs crumble clumsily. Say that five times fast. Confuses the tongue, no?

Kinda like the flavor of this pie. It's very berry-esque. But what kind of berries are in there? Blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. It's hard to detect each flavor. There's also rhubarb, apple, and even lemon juice. It's a tangy, tart, sweet flavor that defies simple categorization. It's not bad, but now that I've sampled it, I think I'd prefer a more familiar flavor in most cases. A singleberry pie wouldn't be so bad. Any one of the berries above would work.

The crust was good. Crumbly, for sure. It had a nice bready flavor, and certain parts were kind of nutty, thanks to a considerable quantity of oats. It wasn't like super fresh or soft or anything—just what you'd expect from a pie that's been sitting around for a week or so. It worked alright with the apple berry filling. 

It's a unique dessert with a sweet-tart filling and CRUMBLY crust. Easily six servings for $6.99. I'd try the regular apple crumble pie, or any single berry flavor if they make one in the future. Three and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Wafer Cookie

There's certain formulas for success that you just don't mess with. For example, almost all country music. It's solid, not spectacular, but when the mood is right, it works, at least for me.

Kinda like a KitKat candy bar.

Country music isn't my preferred genre by any stretch. On any list of favorite candy bars, I'm not sure KitKats would be anywhere in my top twenty or so. But when I got the right hankering, there's no questioning how good and right a KitKat is. Right snap. Right texture. Right amount of chocolate and crispy innards. Right amount of everything.

It's enough that I kinda forget that KitKats are just chocolate covered wafers...until having a Trader Joe's Chocolate Coered Wafer Cookie and realizing how much unlike a KitKat they are.

And unfortunately I don't mean it is a compliment.

Never really occured to me that there'd be a right or a wrong way tmake such a simple confectionary concoction, but apparently so. These TJ choco-wafers, in comparison to KitKats, lack significantly. First off, there's so much less chocolate. Part of that is basic structure - the single snappable unitness of KitKats versus the solid TJ's slab - but part is also application. While KitKats have a respectably thick chocolate layer, these TJ cookie bars have such a thin layer I'd call it chocolate leaf. I mean, you can see the wafer through the chocolate. No bueno.

Maybe that's why the TJ chocolate wafers also feel a little different. It's like there's not the same snap. The wafer itself tastes all in all the same, but man...nah. It's off.

Can't mess with the classics too much, I guess. Or at least you shouldn't.

We're not big on these, and will probably never buy again. I think both Sandy and I are sparing a point each for there being sugar and chocolate but otherwise we have no enthusiasm for these KitKat wannabes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Coered Wafer Cookie: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Gone Berry Crazy!

Ever had Shari's Berries? Delicious, right? They also cost an arm and a leg. I mean, sure, the presentation is fancy, and the berries are near-perfect, but they start at about $20 plus shipping and handling. Also, who wants to just sit and wait, fingers crossed, hoping that FedEx will actually get the address right and not just toss the package haphazardly onto the porch from the street? Not me, that's for sure.

Now you can enjoy high-quality chocolate-covered strawberries for just $2.29 right from your neighborhood Trader Joe's. Heck yes. Remember Trader Joe's Gone Bananas!? Same concept, similar packaging, only with...you guessed it: strawberries instead of bananas.

The berries come frozen, but they're in excellent condition, flaunting beautiful red hues, sweet strawberry taste, and the perfect amount of firmness. They're supposed to be served frozen, and we can testify that they're awesome that way—although just slightly thawed works just as well if you can wait that long to eat them.

There are approximately two dozen strawberries in each box. Most of the berries are relatively small—about the size of the tip of my thumb—but we did find some size variation in each box. A few were quite large. The outer layer of chocolate is fairly thin, but it's more than enough to balance out the taste of the strawberries. It's a dark chocolate, so it's not too sweet.

Back in 2011, when Gone Bananas! were still new, I shared a story about Sonia and a toxic chocolate banana from a shady Southland street vendor. As a result, that product narrowly missed a shot at immortalization in our blog's elite Pantheon of great foods. My wife's never met a strawberry she didn't like. Five out of five stars from her. I absolutely loved this product, but in all honesty, I think I like the chocolate banana combo just slightly more than these. Still, I won't deny them the score they deserve: four and a half out of five from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.