Trader Joe's Kunefe

Before we dive into the review, let me just throw this little disclaimer out there: I've never had kunefe prior to trying this product. I've had plenty of international desserts, and I love Mediterranean food in general, but this isn't something I recall seeing listed on menus. Could be it was there and I passed over it because I had no clue what it was. Now I do and I just might try it next time I'm in a Turkish restaurant.

All that to say I won't be comparing this to other kunefe. I'll just be recounting our personal experience with this fascinating foreign dessert offering from TJ's. Kinda hard to lead into a review with a personal story when you don't have any anecdotes about the product in question. I know you're all heartbroken, but my disclaimer will have to serve as the lead-in here.

Found it in the frozen section of the Halsey Street, Portland store for $3.99. It wasn't immediately apparent that it was a dessert. I mean, it would have been if I had read the blurb on the back of the box, but that's just not my style. If I learn too much about something—anything, I tend to psych myself out and lose interest. Better to dive in as blind as possible and have no expectations.

The baking instructions were easy enough even for this guy. You simply place the unwrapped tray in the oven and bake for 20-22 min. There's a pouch full of a clear, sweet syrup that you add after baking, flip the dessert over onto a serving plate, and then sprinkle a packet of pistachio bits on the top. From frozen to serving in about 25 minutes. No major mishaps or fine examples of foodie-hackery here. 

It's hard to describe. Pretty tasty if you ask me. Unusual. The outer portions are quite crispy. Wisps of phyllo dough grace the exterior of the dish. The core of the dessert is made of sweet, melty mozzarella and mizithra cheeses. The pistachio sprinkles are tastable but not overbearing. There might be something vaguely reminiscent of baklava here if it weren't for all that cheese. But as it stands, I like it, in the words of the late Chris Cornell, "cause it doesn't remind me of anything." 

I'm always down for novel experiences.

Sonia had an equally difficult time describing the flavor, but she, too, liked it quite a bit—particularly its uniqueness. If you like sweet cheeses and phyllo-encrusted desserts, it's most definitely worth a whirl. Four stars from each of us.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ube Purple Yam Flavored Ice Cream

Ice cream: one of the staples of summer. I won't say I don't eat it year round, because I do, but it's one of those things that's just part of most Americans' arsenal of beat-the-heat foods. Fortunately, we haven't needed much in the way of "beat-the-heat" this year so far since we've been meandering around the Pacific Northwest. It's our first time here, and we've just been in Oregon for the past 3 weeks or so, heading into Washington. We had one 90 degree day last week, and when we really needed ice cream, we didn't have any, and we didn't feel like driving into town from our campground to get it. Now we have some and it's in the 50's outside. Go figure.

But like I said, I'll eat ice cream in pretty much any weather. So I did.

First impressions: it doesn't taste like a vegetable. Didn't really think it would. Yams are pretty desserty to begin with. There's almost a cake batter vibe to the taste in my opinion. Maybe that's just a subliminal notion bubbling up to the surface since it's my 40th birthday today and I'm in cake mode. Although, Sonia didn't disagree with that assertion, either.

First thing that popped into her head: taro. That's probably a more accurate assessment since taro is also a root vegetable that's frequently used in frozen desserts. I remember having it when Yogurtland and its myriad imposters were all the rage like 10 years ago. I know they still exist, but I haven't been to one in quite a while. Also boba tea and other Asian novelty foods are often taro-flavored. This flavor does taste similar to taro if memory serves me correctly. I wanna say this flavor is slightly less floral...?

The taste is nutty, lightly sweet, subtly earthy, and vanilla-esque. There's nothing "purple" about it if you're like me and think everything purple should taste like grapes or berries. There might be a slight pistachio-esque vibe here, too. Cream and sugared egg yolks add to the density and richness of the ice cream.

$2.99 for the pint. It's not dairy-free or vegan or anything—just pretty decent ice cream with interesting ingredients and a unique flavor. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Patio Potato Chips

Eating outside in the summer is pretty great, isn't it? I think so. A couple times already this not-quite-summer, Sandy and I have pulled our kitchen table out to our smallish back deck and piled everyone out there for a laidback "snacky dinner" - veggies, fruit, chips, hummus, cheese, etc. More times than not, something off the grill, which i'll fire up as the kids are playing in the sprinkler. It's great. Everyone gets to eat what they want, avoid what they don't.

In a similar vibe, here's Trader Joe's Patio Potato Chips. Everything about them evokes that eating outside, picnicky, snacky feel, from the name to the illustrations to the fun concept of four flavors of chips all mixed together. They're kinda like a summery-choose-your-own adventure package, right? And chips! Show me a decent picnic without chips...tough to do!

So, how these TJ's tangled taste taters fare?

Well, like many things, the concept is brilliant but the execution is a bit sloppy. There's four flavors here - salt and vinegar, dill, ketchup and barbeque. I can't tell the ketchup and barbeque ones apart after multiple tastes, and it takes a little discernment to tell the vinegar and dill ones apart, too. Part of the issue is, of course, they're all mixed up with flavor seasonings rubbing off on one another all the way from point of manufacture to point of consumption.

This leads to another point, sort of: if eaten all together, really the only flavor that stands out is, well, vinegar. It's probably because it's the punchiest of the varieties. But if there's a few dill chippies, there's more of a pickley taste, and if there's any of the other ones, they take one more of a sweet pickle type flair. That's not necessarily awful but perhaps not what everyone would be looking for.

Other than that, for the most part, they're pretty good chips. All of the chips are ridged and crispy with a little of the requisite greasiness that define high levels of snackitude. I mean, even when unsure how well all the flavors really melded together, I was downing way too many of them, so there's that. Sandy said she would have preferred if they different types were differently textured, so as to more easily tell them apart. I could be down for that as well.

Overall, the patio chips are an okay pickup. Chances are we'd buy again, but our girls weren't the hugest of fans so maybe not. Sandy gives them only a 2.5 for their flavor identity uncertainty issues. That's a touch low but not too far off the mark. I'll go with a 3.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Patio Potato Chips: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Mini Gummy Bears on a Chocolate Pool Day

Years ago, Sonia and I were invited to a game night of sorts at another couple's apartment. The main event of the evening was a competition involving the construction of graham cracker houses, the most creative of which would win a prize. There were four other teams, with our gracious hosts serving as the judges. There were dozens of elements at our disposal: graham crackers, marshmallows, frosting, gumdrops, cookies—pretty much any snack you can think of was present. Most other teams tried to go big—they were aiming to construct the tallest candy towers that gravity would allow. We went a different route.

Our house was a mere two graham cracker widths high. Not impressive at all on the macro scale...but to a family of gummy bears, it was an elegant mansion with all the comforts of a modern home. There was a big puffy couch comprised of full-size marshmallows across from a flat screen HDTV made from a miniature chocolate bar. The yard was full of vanilla icing snow and a few snowmen made of mini marshmallows stacked on one another. The bear children playing in the yard had warm hats made of M&M's bitten in half. There was even a bathroom. Mini marshmallows made a fine porcelain toilet and a nearby bathroom sink. A thin layer of frosting made a mirror. A green gummy bear faced the mirror—I bit off a thin slice of another green gummy bear's face and stuck it on the mirror so it appeared the bear was actually looking at his own reflection. There were even a couple chocolate shavings in the marshmallow toilet to represent...um, bear movements. We made lamps, trees, and shrubbery out of gumdrops and bed sheets out of mini chocolate bar wrappers. Ultimately, we won the competition and went home that night with a $20 Target gift card and a sense of accomplishment and teamwork. Our judges applauded, "You thought of everything!"

Well, almost everything.

Our happy gummy bear family lacked a pool. Until now. Obviously, we don't still have our graham cracker house. In fact, I think the children present consumed the entire thing before we even left our friends' apartment that night. But this gimmicky new item from TJ's would have been the perfect addition to the bear family's backyard.

So...obviously, this is a fun item for the young and the young-at-heart, but how does it taste? It's an odd mix-up of gummy bears and milk and white chocolate. Sonia remarked that the milk chocolate overshadowed the white chocolate, while I was actually surprised I could taste white chocolate at all. The bears add sweet, fruity, citrusy elements to the flavor. It works, at least marginally. I mean, chocolate covered fruit is a thing. Chocolate orange is a thing, right? This isn't a completely foreign concept. I'm honestly surprised how much I do like the flavor here.

Sonia wanted more gummy bears, even though she admitted their texture was a little too firm and chewy in the mix. The chocolate's nice and smooth, and it inevitably melts in your mouth much faster than the gummy bears. I was happy with the chocolate to gummy bear ratio, but I must say breaking the bar apart was frustrating. The bears wanted to hold certain pieces of chocolate together, and as you'd pull the piece off, the bear would stretch a bit and then snap in the manner of a rubber band, sending a crumb or two of chocolate flying off into space...or onto your khaki pants.

It's $1.99 for the bar. I'd rather pay half that for a silly, fun impulse buy like this, but there's an undeniable childlike joy that accompanies opening a package of candy that has illustrations of bears with pool toys on it. If it weren't packaged and presented so cleverly, it would be easier to pan this product for its only partial success in the flavor and texture departments. As it stands, we're looking at about three and a quarter stars each. 

Do note: this product isn't even vegetarian by virtue of pork gelatin in the gummies. I thought that green bear on the packaging looked a little like one of the pigs from Angry Birds...

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chewy Marshmallow Bar

Rice Krispies are pretty much a disappointment cereal, right? I've never met anyone who could honestly say they legitimately enjoyed a bowl of them. I know I sure haven't. Sure, sure, there's the snap, crackle and pop thing that's kinda cool...but then what? Within moments you have little, soggy, limp, mushy and basically tasteless tidbits of toasted rice like substance. Even worse, if not rinsed out right after, the cereal gets cemented into your bowl as it dries, which means depending on my stage of life my mom or my wife would yell at me for it. You'd think I'd learn.

Nah, the only legit reason to buy Rice Krispies is to make Rice Krispie treats. Now those are good, and an all time classic. So simple to do. So delicious.

Which, by the way, I'd recommend over buying Trader Joe's Chewy Marshmallow Bar.

Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoyed this new "gotcha, made ya buy" treat from TJ's. If you want one, or just need a quick snack to keep yourself from going hungry or to placate the kiddos mid-shopping trip, there's no reason not to buy it. Homemade ones are better is all I'm saying.

The taste is all there. It's not like there's much to really mess up or experiment with here - it's toasted rice and marshmallows. If somehow you don't know what this combo tastes like, you've lived a very different life than probably 99.9% of people reading this. I've got nothing else to add here.

It's really more in the feel, I think. Most homemade variations are tightly packed, dense chunks, at least in my experience. Not so here. Once out of the package the marshmallow bar gets droopy and bendy, and the overall feel is pretty light. Also, there's full (or close to full) mini marshmallows interspersed throughout the bar. Some might find this texturally challenging. I didn't particularly but I also prefer a firmer treat.

Others have said this confection is much like a "Dream Bar" or something of the sort from Starbucks. Haven't had one - we don't frequent Starbucks as I consider them "emergency caffeination only" - but perhaps one of you can chime in to state how apt that comparison may be. 

It's a $1.49 each for this TJ's chewy bar, which strikes me neither a great deal nor as a ripoff. They're big enough that Sandy and I split one, and our kids split the other without complaint. I'm neither disappointed nor overwhelmed so I'll just say a three while Sandy chimes in with a little higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chewy Marshmallow Bar: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Covered Mini Pretzels

Seems like TJ's has had chocolate covered pretzels on their shelves for years...like basically always. I can't remember a time they haven't been there. And yet, I don't think we've ever purchased them. Not the plain old milk chocolate covered ones, anyway. 

But now, they're in a fancy new resealable bag, they're featured prominently on traderjoes.com under "What's New," and TJ's is begging us to taste them again...for the first time, or something like that.

So we did.

No cookie butter filling. No exotic foreign confectionery coating. No hazelnut sprinkles. Just pretzels and chocolate. And some newfangled packaging.

I've always liked chocolate covered pretzels, and these are no exception. They taste exactly as I remember them. Salty, sweet, bready. The chocolate is still smooth and the pretzels are still crunchy. They still dot your fingertips with little brown splotches if it's warm outside, and they're still just a tad too firm when it's cold out—or if you store them in the fridge rather than the pantry. 

They're so run-of-the-mill, I'm really at a loss what to write about them. There's absolutely nothing new or innovative about these tasty tidbits, but it's also nice to know they didn't screw them up, either.

I have this memory from very early childhood. It was probably the first time I'd ever had a chocolate covered pretzel. It was evening and the sky was dark. There were two elderly ladies that babysat me frequently in those days, and I was in their apartment on Chocolate Avenue in Hershey, PA. No lie. There's a Chocolate Ave there. Cocoa Ave, too. Anyway, they had this little apartment in downtown Hershey, and I spent a lot of time there. At this point, I couldn't have been older than three or four years old. I remember eating a chocolate pretzel they gave me—my parents wouldn't allow me to have chocolate back in those days, but these two: Nana and Minnie—they'd let me live a little while in their care. The chocolate pretzel they gave me was so transcendently delicious, I remember being excited about life in a way that's very hard to capture now at nearly 40 years old. And then, as if the moment weren't special enough, I recall looking up into the night sky through their kitchen window and seeing a streak of light—I had no idea what it was at the time, but in retrospect, it must have been a shooting star. I don't think I've ever experienced a sense of awe greater than that instant, with the taste of chocolate pretzel dangling on my tongue. 

I don't eat chocolate pretzels all that often these days, but that night in the early 80's comes to mind almost every time I do, and for that reason, there will always be a special place in my heart for these tasty morsels. $3.49 for the 12 oz bag.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

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.