Trader Joe's Oat & Greek Yogurt Sandwich Cookies

Blah. More cookies. I think three out of my past five reviews have been of cookies. I mean, all in all, they haven't been bad cookies. In general, Trader Joe's does cookies better than others. But I'm all cookied out right now. 

So why review these cookies today? There are far more fascinating new items on the shelves of Trader Joe's currently.

Allow me to explain...

As I mentioned last week, I have a nasty spring cold that I contracted from my lovely wife—and I can't taste anything at the moment. These cookies were the last thing I remember eating before getting the cold. Also, they're review-worthy, if only for the Greek yogurt gimmick they've got going on.

They vaguely resemble Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies, but lighter in color, a little fatter, with a slightly smaller diameter. They were soft when I first opened the box—maybe not quite as soft or as oily as a classic oatmeal creme pie, but pliable enough that one would call them "chewy" before he'd call them crispy, crunchy, or even crumbly. Those first couple cookies were excellent. It was warm out at the time, so the filling, too, was super soft and creamy—gooey almost.

Now this was back a week ago. Daytime highs were hitting near 90 degrees in southern Idaho, the sun was out, and even with air conditioning on, a class C RV can get pretty toasty in no time flat. So I made the mistake of putting the cookies in the refrigerator. I thought, hey, we don't want the Greek yogurt to get all rancid in the heat, right? I asked Sonia if that made sense to her, and she informed me that the cookies were most definitely NOT refrigerated in TJ's. I still felt like the heat wouldn't do them any favors.

But since that time, they haven't tasted or felt nearly as fresh. The filling is much better when it's kinda viscous. When it's firm—like straight outta the fridge—it's meh. The cookie part, too, just tastes better at room temperature, though the difference isn't as noticeable. Don't get me wrong, they're still edible. 

Fresh or not, the flavor is sweet, tart, and tangy. There's almost a hint of lemony essence by virtue of the yogurt's tartness, but it doesn't look like there are any lemon ingredients. The cookie parts are moderately sweet, oaty, and satisfying enough. There are notes of honey and vanilla in the mixture, and they work pretty well.

Sonia's taste came back some time between the last review and this one. She likes these cookies at least as much as I do and thinks I'm exaggerating the difference between when the box was first opened and after it emerged from the fridge. Had it been up to her, they would have stayed in the pantry, but she thinks they're tasty either way. 

Even being thoroughly saturated with cookies lately, we still can't hate on these unique Greek imports. Three and a half stars from each of us.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix

Really, the faces said it all.

I was first. I imagine I squinted my eyes, pursed my lips and had a somewhat perplexed look. That it is to say, even more than usual. Others then followed suit on the quixotic quest set forth. A few wrinkled noses. A few shaking heads, with a little air of uncertainty. Some of the kids took a bite then promptly looked for the nearest trashcan. There was an absolutely palpable mix of uncertainty and mild acceptance at best.

Such as it is with Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix.

I baked a cake up precisely according to package instructions last week for a little potluck dinner we attended last week. It was extremely simple - mix with a little water, half a stick of butter, and a couple eggs. Bake for something like 45 minutes. So easy I could do it with the "help' of a couple four year olds.

But yeah...I won't say it went over well at our get-together. It's definitely a supremely odd cake. Really, it's the texture - you hear the word "cake" and think soft and crumbly and whatnot. It's so not the case here. If you're familiar with mochi at all, you know how it is: Chewy. Rubbery. Kinda dense. Moist. And in a thickish cake form, the word "slab" comes to mind instead of "slice."

I guess all that really ought to be expected...but expectation and experience can be two different things. Just weird, odd texture. Took some getting used to for sure.

Really, that's the novelty selling point for the mochi cake mix. Otherwise, it's pretty nondescript for its flavor. Some might even say basic. It's slightly sweet, and with the amount of added eggs and butter it's, well, kinda eggy and kinda buttery. Go figure. Kinda boring. I suppose that's why I've read on other forums to experiment some with the mix, like...adding berries. Making with pineapple juice instead of water. Cinnamon. Chocolate. And so on. It's probably a good base for all those, and probably many more ideas...if you got 'em, share 'em.

It's $3.99 for the mix, which from what I understand isn't an awful price for something like this. Gluten-free, of course. I'm on the fence about buying it again, but not Sandy. She loves oddball stuff like this and insists we will and will experiment and report back. Fine, yes dear. My pic of the nutritional facts and ingredients were potato quality so check here for that info. May as well just face it now and give the mochi cake a mixed seven.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Benne Wafer Cookies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Belgian Chocolate Pudding

This is one of those products that I've been hearing about for years. I've seen tweets about it, other reviews, and even had it recommended to me in the store. I was either not in the mood for chocolate pudding at the time, or I was after some other specific product(s) on that particular occasion—and there might have even been an instance or two where I did want to pick it up, but it was sold out at the time. For whatever reason, purchase of this product has eluded me for years now. And I've finally gotten my hands on it, consumed some of it, and am ready to tell you my thoughts about it...as if you've been waiting all this time, eagerly anticipating my brilliant musings on a tub of pudding.

I'll just give it to you straight: I can totally see what all the fuss is about, I guess. But this just isn't my thing. I'm not hating. I like it fine. There's a bitterness to the pudding I wasn't expecting. I suppose there's bitterness to Belgian chocolate in general, but I've never experienced that with chocolate pudding before. Most other chocolate puddings are simply globs of gelatinized chocolate—sweet, soft, and creamy. This pudding is most definitely all of those things, but the sweet-factor isn't over-the-top. It's not optimized for a kid's taste buds. It's more refined. I'm not saying it's a dark chocolate pudding per se, but those who lean towards dark chocolate might appreciate this more than other chocolate pudding offerings.

It's rich. There's a heavy chocolate flavor in general, both up front with the sweet attack of the confection, and during the finish when the bitter aspects come forward a little more. I feel like there's an aftertaste, too. I very much appreciate a clean palate, and this pudding did not leave me with one.

It's thick. There's nothing watery or thin about it at all. The pudding coats your tongue, teeth, and lips as you eat it, but it does dissolve pretty quickly. Only that hint of flavor remains. There's no oily residue as I've experienced with other, cheaper chocolate puddings.

I feel like it could work well with other elements. If white cake or whipped cream were involved, I'm pretty sure I'd appreciate it even more.

As an appreciator of darker, richer chocolates, Sonia was pretty much in love at first bite. She noticed the bitterness and the aftertaste like I did, but she's far more happy with bitter flavors in general. 

Three and a half dollars for the tub of three and a half servings. I can't completely jump on the bandwagon of praise for this product, but I won't snub it, either. Three stars seems fair here. Sonia gives it a solid four.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Georgia Pecan Cookies

Ah, Georgia. Nice state. I'd been to the Atlanta area on three separate occasions before Sonia and I even began our RV travels. We also had a chance to check out Savannah a couple years back. Now that's a place I'd highly recommend you visit if you've never been. Absolutely beautiful—the architecture, the ubiquitous open green spaces, and the unique flora make it a must-see. Also, apparently, it produces these "Southern style cookies." Now maybe Trader Joe's can throw Savannah a bone and open up one of their stores there.

But why is Georgia known as The Peach State? California routinely out-produces GA in peach production. Even New Jersey and Pennsylvania have been known to out-peach The Peach State.

Why not go with The Pecan State? Is it because half of the people would pronounce it "pee-CAN" and the other half "pee-CAHN" and a never-ending pronunciation war would mar the state's reputation? Perhaps.

At any rate, these cookies are pretty tasty. And they do taste surprisingly pecan-forward. Nutty, salty, and crispy they most definitely are...significantly buttery, too. I wouldn't say I was bowled over by the butterscotch elements, and I almost universally prefer soft cookies to crispy ones, but I must admit, these have a good flavor overall.

Sonia was less enthused about the taste and perhaps a bit more positive about the texture. She liked that they were "airy and light." But she found the saltiness a little overbearing. I'll admit, the salt-factor becomes more and more prevalent the more cookies you eat, but I wouldn't say it completely ruined them for me.

It's probably a good thing that they're fairly diminutive in size. I was thinking they'd be a bit bigger. They're slightly larger than quarters...like, maybe, the size of Sacagawea dollars...? Also, they're quite thin. If you only eat two or three at a time, you can feel that saltiness building up on your tongue, and you can feel yourself getting full pretty quickly. This isn't a gobble-the-whole-bag-in-one-sitting kind of dessert. They'd probably pair well with coffee or maybe even certain kinds of tea. I'd be happy with a few of these cookies and a glass of milk. 

If pecans and crispy cookies are your thing, or if you're looking for a new salty+sweet snack, these are well worth a looksee. In all honesty, we probably wouldn't have picked these up if not for want of new products to review, and I can't feature us repeat-purchasing any time soon, but we can't really complain, either. Three and a half stars a piece on this one.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Blondies

Peanut butter and jelly surrounds my life.

It's a quick, easy, portable, cheap meal that can be reasonably nutritious. I'll slap one together real quick when running out the door early to work. Chances are, on whatever day you're reading this, that I had one this morning. I have kids who love pb&j, so there's always making them for their school lunches (admittedly we'll usually use sunflower seed butter then). If we're going somewhere (baseball game, amusement park, state park, beach, road trip, etc) chances are we'll make then instead of taking out a second mortgage for concession stand fare or subjecting ourselves to McD's. They're not the worst in a pinch...but still. Rarely a week, or heck even a day, goes by without me making some sort of pb&j type concoction. It's a staple.

That being said...do I really want/need one as a dessert?

That's the "problem" with Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Blondies. Full name: Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Blondies with Strawberry Filling Topped with a Crispy Peanut Butter Confection. Jeez. That rivals a Fiona Apple album title for length.

Back to these psuedo-sammiches. That's what I call them...because that's what these blondies taste like. There's plenty of peanut butter layered on, just the way I like, with a thin layer of strawberry jelly. Kinda surprised it's strawberry, as the first impression was that it's pretty tart. I almost suspected mild raspberry and not strawberry. Still, it works.

Those two elements override the taste and feel of anything else. I suppose the blondie brownie in there could be a fine tasting base...but with all that rich peanut butter and jelly on top, I can't really taste it and my brain defaults to it being cold, dense bread, like bread that got a little too chilled and smushed when wedged in a cooler. That's not a bad taste....but I wanted to taste the blondie, too. I can't.

That "peanut butter confection" on top admittedly adds a real nice touch. It's like some sort of crispy dust and is about the only taste/texture cue that this is not a regular peanut butter jelly sandwich. I like it and hope it can be sold seperately somehow...I'm salivating at thinking of it as an ice cream topping.

Anyways, these aren't terrible treats. Sandy and I like the peanut butter blondies just fine. They are one of those "thaw out" type dessert deals that are sold frozen, and a serving size is two of the little square bites. They're rich enough that just one will really do. Strangely, our kids aren't too fond for whatever reason. Weirdos. Still, I wish they were somehow more "treat-like" and less "sandwich-like" if that makes sense. Eh well. They're definitely not bad as is.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Blondies: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Banana Date Nut Bread Crisps

For reasons mostly unbeknownst to me, we have all sorts of treat stashes for ourselves in our house. It's almost like a video game come to life with loot boxes here and there if you only know where to look. Must be at least partially because aside from me, everyone else in the house eats treats at a snail-like pace. We still have Easter candy left...from last year.

But the kids will ask for treats, of course, and they'll ask for where they want their treat from instead of what. "Can I have a treat from my treat box?" "Can I have a treat from my Easter basket?" Can I have a treat from my Halloween bucket from when I was a baby?" And so on. Still it stumped me when my four year old, B, asked me if she could have a treat from "the little yellow box."

You guessed it...she meant Trader Joe's Banana Date Nut Bread Crisps.

Admittedly, these crisps are pretty treat-like. I mean, it's based off banana bread. Thank God someone figured out how to make such a delicious thing out of rotting bananas.

The loaf that goes into making these crisps is something else, though. Scan the ingredients and you may see some that Betty Crocker didn't use. First: dates. Huge date fan, so this is a plus in my book. Also Greek yogurt? Himalayan pink sea salt too? Goodness. Not just almonds but also walnuts and pecans? I'd love to try the bread uncrispdefied for sure!

So the end result is a pretty terrific banana bread in a sliced up, crunchy form. Well, almost. There are still some pockets of moisture here and there - that might be the dates - but when first opened, there are some decidedly softer spots. It's a little odd. Let the crisps get some air over a couple days and they do crunch up quite a bit more. I kinda like 'em better that way.

I didn't really notice the walnuts or pecans either. It's impossible to miss the almonds. And there's so much good, rich banana bread flavor - perhaps amped up a little bit - that I'm not really sold on having to try and pair the crisps with something else. My lovely bride feels a little differently and is thinking either something close to cream cheese or a nice light chevre might be a nice addition. She's probably right.

Definitely a tasty treat overall. Somebody hit me the price - I know it's not much but I misplaced the receipt and my memory is faulty. I'm thinking the banana bread crisps are in the $2.50 to $3 range, though. Nice work, as usual, TJ's.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Banana Date Nut Crisps: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Jerk-Style Plantain Chips

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

Really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Organic Chunky Apple Cinnamon Bread

So much symbolism with the apple. "Eve ate the apple," even though it wasn't really an apple. "As American as apple pie." Newton's apple helped discover gravity. The Mac computer symbol is an apple with a bite out of it. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," as they say. 

So what do I have to say about this appley product? Applicious? No, unfortunately. 

App-palling? Nah, I wouldn't quite go that far. 

Un-app-pealing? Maybe.

We both found this stuff disappointing. Our loaf was very dry on this inside, and Sonia and I both came up with the adjective "oily" to describe the outer portions. Not moist. Oily.

There's a decided lack of apple pieces. Apple chunks? No way. Not one. Not even a ton of apple flavor. Cinnamon, yes. If anything, there's way too much cinnamon. That's the primary flavor. And we both like cinnamon. There's just something about our loaf that makes us want to cough. It's not that we can feel the cinnamon granules. It's just an odd, dry, cinnamon vibe that's devoid of the juiciness of apples or the softness of a traditional loaf of cinnamon bread.

The norm is that we find a product at Walmart that can compare to something at TJ's, and the latter almost always outshines the former. Price, quality, organicness. You name it—the Joe's version is better in almost every way. It's generally laughable to even compare the two. However, in this instance, Sonia recently discovered some apple cinnamon bread there that blows this loaf out of the water. Unfortunate for this product. No, the Wally World bread isn't organic, nor is it "good for you" in any way. But it tastes the way we wanted this stuff to taste.

Just FYI, the top part of the nutrition information got lost in the glare. It states that there are seven servings per container, each one two ounces.  

Two and a half stars from this guy. Only two from the missus.

Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Chocolate Chip Cookies

My poor wife.

Sandy had just finished a long day at work and a run with a friend. She had no chance to go home for dinner before our usual kids dance class routine. She also gave up sweets for Lent...but she was pretty hungry...and of course I forgot to grab her a dinner as I was too busy wrangling all our own kids plus one more through dinner and out the door to get to said dance class, and I remembered everything except her dinner...and it'd be at least an hour til we got home...and all I had was Trader Joe's Organic Chocolate Chip Cookies with me (i.e., kid bait to get them all moving)...

Husband fail. She broke Lent because of me. It wasn't her fault. I think God will understand.

Worth it? Maybe. I mean, these are really pretty basic snacky chocolate chip cookies. Of course, even a middlin' chocolate chip cookie is pretty tasty in my book.

What these cookies really have going for them more than anything else is at least the perception of quality ingredients. Good stuff in equals a good outcome more times than not. The closest approximation to a name brand cookie I could make for these TJ's snacksters would be Famous Amos - similar in size, feel, taste - except these just taste better in a not totally quanitifiable kinda way. Maybe it's just that word "organic" messing with me.

Regardless, these cookies are worth a try, especially if in need for a portable confectionary motivator for either yourself or the juvenile crowd. There's five mini cookies to a serving - you should see a four year old's eyes light up when you tell her she can eat five cookies if she'll just get her little biscuits moving. It works like a charm. Good, not great, cookies. Kid approved, mama and dada approved, and budget friendly at less than $3 for the baggie, so they do have all that going for them. Yumz.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Chocolate Chip Cookies: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Elote Corn Chip Dippers

Well, here's a rare sighting that just so happened to be captured on camera:

An opened bag of Trader Joe's Organic Elote Corn Chip Dippers, in my house, that hasn't been completely ransacked and emptied somehow.

I mean, sorry, about the rip up top. We usually strive to take a photo of an unopened item. It kinda presents better. It's really kinda an amatuer move on our part. Party foul.

But man...have you tried these yet?

Holy smokes.

Sandy and I are now on our fourth in less than a week, which for people who try to not eat a lot of "junk food"... is a lot of "junk food."

What's there not to love about these elote chips? Not familiar with elote? Neither are we, to be perfectly honest. but these chips got me begging for another trip to Mexico to have a try at the real deal. Until then, I'll happily make do with these.

The spice blend is pretty complex for a chip. It's sneaky as it builds and builds in intensity. The first few bites are pretty mild. A little heat, sure, but that's when I particularly noticed the creamy buttermilk flavor these chippies offer. But then the rest of it comes on about three or four bites in. There's habanero spice and good pepper bite and all sorts of other things really going on that I'm not 100% sure how to explain except....dang. It's smoky and creamy and spicy all in one, in a way I've never experienced before on a chip.

Add on top of that the incredible texture here. Oh goodness. These corn chips are almost soft and crumbly and a little bit mealy to an almost melt in your mouth essence. They're still crunchy, to be sure, but not in a typical tortilla chip or Frito kinda way.

I've heard some comparisons to Cool Ranch Doritos...no, no, no. I mean, I get the basis for comparison for the elote chips...there are some similar elements...but these chips are better, so much better. I tasted both side by side while tailgating for baseball's opening day, and the TJ's Mexican corn chips absolutely blow Doritos out of the water, by a long shot.

These chips are awesome just by themselves. Really, yes, they are made for dipping into something, but it's 100% not necessary. Unless you have guacamole. Oh man. Pair them up and you'll see. My goodness.

They're $2.29 a serving, I mean bag. I need to stop buying them. I don't want to. Sandy loves them just as much as I do, I think....which is a lot. I cannot think of a single negative thing to say. Amazing. I want to go finish off that bag right now...it's open and taunting me...double fives for the first perfect ten on anything on here since I have no idea when.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Elote Corn Chip Dippers: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fresh Mozzarella Cheese Sticks

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Milk & Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Caramel Popcorn

Growing up, most of us were aware of Whoppers—the candies, not the burgers. They weren't super high on my list of preferred treats, nor were they highly sought after by most of my cohorts. There were one or two oddballs in our class that liked them, but by and large, they seemed to be a snack favored by older generations. 

I can even remember my father talking about "malted milk balls" to some of my young friends and I when we were kids. All of us youngsters looked at each other asking, "What the heck is a 'malted milk ball'?" "That sounds gross," we unanimously agreed. It wasn't until much later that when aged folks would refer to malted milk balls that we youngsters would reply, "Oh. You mean Whoppers." I'd reluctantly consume them when they'd show up in my annual bag of Halloween spoils, but it was rare that I actually wanted or craved a malted milk ball.

These coated popcorn pieces are obviously not malted milk balls, per se. However, they remind me of them somewhat in terms of size, shape, color, flavor, and texture—and I feel very much the same about both types of candy in the end. It's hard to hate candies like this completely, but for Sonia and I, it's also hard to wholly embrace them.

The crispy inner portion—where the malted milk would have traditionally hidden—has been replaced with popcorn. It's not the first time we've seen this kind of thing at TJ's. Those reindeer dealies come to mind. In this instance, though, we see both milk and dark chocolate. Half of the pieces are just a deeper shade of brown. It takes a bit of discernment to distinguish the two flavors, though, predictably, I do prefer the milk chocolate version slightly if I really pay attention. Sonia didn't care to declare a favorite, although in general, she likes dark chocolate a bit more.

There is a thin layer of caramel between the chocolate and the popcorn, and there is, of course, salt, but both Sonia and I think the chocolate overpowers any "salted caramel" aspects of the candy. I'm not saying it's not there. I'm just saying if you want something to register as "salted caramel," you shouldn't slather it with a bunch of chocolate necessarily. Sonia doesn't even think the popcorn element is prevalent enough.

If you're craving something chocolatey and don't mind that popcorn and caramel aren't all that prominent, you still might enjoy these little guys. $2.99 for the bag. Sonia likes the packaging. It's all Eastery and springy and vernal and stuff. I guess Trader Joe's is replacing the Easter Bunny with an Easter Bear because they come out of hibernation this time of year...? Also because bears eat tons of chocolate...? And they hide in fields of daffodils...? 

Sonia said it was cute. She didn't say it made sense.

In the end, these candies just aren't very memorable in our opinions, and we probably won't buy them again. Double threes.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Coconut Almond Chia Cereal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Organic Dark Chocolate PB&J Minis

Ah, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "Sandwiches." Did I ever tell you guys that when Sonia and I first started dating, I noticed she pronounced "sandwich" funny? I learned quickly that it's basically the same word in Spanish as it is in English, and she was pronouncing it the Spanish way. It's almost like "sandweech" in Spanish. Also, the "a" sound in the first syllable tends to be enunciated more when a Spanish-speaker says it. I mean, maybe that's just my opinion, but the bottom line is that I immediately seized the opportunity to make fun of her to no end like a good boyfriend should. I began exaggerating her odd pronunciation more and more every time sandwiches would come up in conversation. "Saandweech" became "saandoweech" became "saandamoweeacha" and so on. At first, she was slightly miffed but then eventually succumbed to the absurdity of my annoying attempts at mocking her and started smiling when I said the word. To this day, I can't say the word "sandwich" around her normally, and we both kind of chuckle when I find a way to butcher the word even further.

However, like its 2013 predecessor, this candy is definitely NOT a PB&J sandwich, nor is it trying to be one. It's just a one-of-a-kind candy—well, I guess it's a two-of-a-kind candy now...sort of.

Let's start with the similarities. Both this candy and the PB&J chocolate bar have peanut butter, raspberry jelly, and chocolate. Both are snacktastic, TJ's-esque, and have exactly one thing in common with a PB&J sandwich: peanut butter—two if you're a weirdo that makes PB&J sandwiches with raspberry jelly. 

As far as dissimilarities go, there are quite a few. The product is organic now. It's miniature and individually-wrapped. They're using dark chocolate here instead of milk chocolate and—it's been a while since I've had a PB&J chocolate bar—but I think there's a bit more jelly in this mix. Sonia thinks the extra bit of jelly works since the sweet and tart of the jelly is balanced by the bitter aspects of the dark chocolate, as opposed to milk chocolate. Also, she wished for more jelly in the bar version—and now she got her wish. 

I agree that dark chocolate works better when there's more jelly, but I still prefer the combo of milk chocolate and not that much raspberry jelly. Another gripe about this product: I feel like these are way too big for a single bite, but they get quite messy if you bite them in half. In short, I like the bar a tad more, Sonia likes these minis a tad more. At $2.99 for the bag of eight squares, it's definitely a fun snack worth a purchase or two. 

The little missus gives these four stars. I give them three and a half.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Barbeque Popped Ridges

There's a certain order for most things, right? And when that order is out of whack, it causes a bit of confusion. Sometimes we're not even aware that there is an order until it is disrupted.

Such as it is with Trader Joe's Popped Barbeque Ridges.

Whoops, there, I did it again. I mean Trader Joe's Barbeque Popped Ridges.

See what I mean? Putting "Popped" first seems more natural, doesn't it? There's a natural order to adjectives in the English language, and while the name of this snacky TJ's new particular item isn't a textbook example (though a new particular snacky TJ's item could be), it brought this to mind.

I keep wanting to put Popped first. But it's second. Maybe it's all so I can't refer to these chips as TJ's PBR and get some hipsters really confused.

Anyways, the chips. I guess you can call them that, but as you can see, the packaging refrains from describing these snacks in that way. The texture and crunch of these ridges is more like potato stick mixed with corn chips with a little extra styrofoam. It's a little offputting and is my major demerit. I don't eat junk food like this all that often, so maybe there's other similar products out there that have the same kinda structure to them. I've had popped items before, though, but none of them struck me like this.

Everything else is pretty on par. The barbeque seasoning is pretty representative - a little tangy, a little sweet, a little smoky, a little salty. Sandy described it as "cheap bbq flavoring" which is more or less accurate - TJ's went the tried-and-true route and didn't swing for the fences here.

Not sure what else to really say about them. In all the popped ridge thingamabobs are okay, and aren't terribly pricey at less than $3 a bag. I can't see these being a new favorite, though. If these were 100% potato chip, they'd be unremarkable but fine. If they were 100% corn chip, it'd also work. But as a half-and-half conglomeration of crispy crunchy snacks, well, they're just odd. Kinda offputting. We're likely to finish the bag just fine, but it won't be in one sitting for sure. Not that bingeworthy. They are gluten free but that's likely not a huge surprise.

Sandy musters them an uninspired three while I'll slide in half a spoon behind.

.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Barbeque Popped Ridges: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Greek Yogurt Apple Cinnamon Coffee Cakes

It's well-documented that couples begin to look alike after being married for many years. They tend to mimic one another's facial expressions and develop lines in similar locations on the face. Many couples have similar diets and exercise habits, rendering similar body types. They also begin to think alike and develop similar affinities and dislikes, as far as entertainment, leisure activities, and foods.

Nine and a half years of marriage have begun to produce such results in Sonia and I. I think they've manifested themselves on this blog in the form of matching scores over and over and over again. "Double fours," for example, has been an extremely common result from this nomadic couple, as well as our Pittsburghian counterparts. I think more often than not, Sonia and I have been within half a star of one another, particularly in the past year or so.

Not so with these muffins.

This is the biggest disagreement we've had on a Trader Joe's food item in quite a while. I mean, it's not like it's a thang, like it might have been in years past. We're very happy to agree to disagree here. Quite frankly, it's a breath of fresh air to be reminded of our individuality once in a while. But I'll just say Sonia loves these muffins, and I find them highly forgettable.

I immediately compared them to the Greek Yogurt Lemon Muffins, reviewed three years back, and found the apple cinnamon variety slightly wanting. I just feel like lemon lends itself to the tanginess of Greek yogurt more than apple cinnamon. 

I did complain that I wanted even more lemon flavor in those other muffins, but there's an even greater dearth of appliciousness here in my opinion. There are indeed apple bits in these muffins, and we both enjoyed those quite a bit—I would just request a great lot more of them. Sonia wouldn't have minded more, but is happy with them the way they are. There's some cinnamon flavor present, too, in the manner of a traditional coffee cake. Again, I would have preferred a great deal more cinnamon, though. There's a nice bready flavor, and of course some Greek yogurt tang, but I feel like all the flavors don't enhance each other very much.

The muffins are nice and soft, with a crumbly coffee cake crown. They never felt or tasted stale, but I don't think they surpassed a run-of-the-mill bakery in that department, either. Sonia thought the texture was on point, by virtue of the yogurt, and said she'd choose these over a typical coffee shop pastry any day of the week. Also—and this may have been the ultimate deciding factor—they do pair well with coffee. Although I'm learning to appreciate coffee more and more, it's still not my beverage of choice in the mornings, so the fact they go well with java won't entirely redeem them for me. The dunk-factor will solidify these as a big thumbs up from Sonia and a big "meh" from me. 

Four and a half stars from the wife, but only three from this guy.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Butter Cups

Among all my many allergies, food and otherwise, I was never cursed with one to peanuts. But I truly sympathize with those of you who have. The other day I was walking past a Burger King inside a Walmart and noticed a sign next to the counter that said something to the effect of "any and all of our food may be contaminated with peanut residue." Really? They're cooking burgers and making fries on the same equipment they use to cut slices of peanut butter pies? Probably not. They're just covering their behinds. They might as well put up a sign that says, "Hey look, people with peanut allergies—if you die in our restaurant, it's not our fault." All that to say, you folks have my pity.

Not long ago, sunflower seed butter cups were one of the most buzzed-about new items at Trader Joe's. In my review of them, I compared them to classic Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, because, you know, you have to have a reference point for these things, right? So now, I'm tempted to compare these almond fellows to their sunflowery counterparts.

First of all, are these even new? I feel like they've been there on the candy shelves for years, mysteriously eluding a review on our blog. I know they have multiple different kinds of peanut butter cups and cookie butter cups, but why do I feel like almond butter cups have been there, too? The sunflower dealies were so obviously new, with their bright yellow wrappers and Reese's-esque presentation. But these guys? They just sorta blend in with all those myriad Trader Joe's brand candies that come in a tub.

Price-wise, we're looking at $3.99 for "about" 18 pieces versus 99 cents for the two sunflower cups. They're being marketed less as a "buy this at the checkout and eat it on your way home to curb your immediate craving" kinda snack, and more of a "buy this for your family with peanut allergies and have them on stand-by at all times" sorta treat—either of which is fine by me. 

As far as vegan-ness goes, this option definitely contains milk products. We had several readers indicate that the sunflower cups were indeed vegan because, despite the presence of dark chocolate, there was no dairy. Not so here. They don't taste any more milky to me. I just wonder: if you can make decent dark chocolate without milk, why include it? If anything, I slightly prefer the chocolate in the sunflower cups.

Nut butter-wise, I think I prefer the sunflower seed variety to the almond one. Sunflower seems just ever so slightly sweeter, and possibly a bit thinner. In the case of these dark chocolate covered cups, I feel like the almond butter is not as consistently creamy. It's still nutty and works with the chocolate, but I feel like it lacks a certain pizzazz just ever so slightly. Also, I think there's just a bit more dark chocolate here. The chocolate to nut butter ratio is off by a bit, favoring chocolate too much.

The overall effect of these cups is still sweet, dessert-like, and relatively satisfying. I'm certainly not hating on these puppies. I just prefer the sunflower seed butter cups in the end. Sonia thinks they taste basically the same. It's been a while, but I remember being wowed by Justin's brand almond butter cups a little more than this TJ's offering.

In the end, this is a perfectly valid desserty treat from Trader Joe's, particularly for those with peanut allergies, but I'd generally go with another choice over this one, personally.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.