Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers

Coming late summer...to a Trader Joe's near you...from the same geniuses who brought you Scandinavian Swimmers comes a new gummy snack that...will...blow...you...away!

Pucker up...it's Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers!

It's time to dive in!

Okay, that was kinda lame intro, but try reading it in the movie trailer voice, so a little deep, booming, and dramatic, and think of this new yummy gummy offering as yet another summer sequel or remake of a classic. 

And yes, I still chuckle at the name too.

But yeah, if you're familiar with the regular swimmers and are looking for a slightly sour twist, these are the snack for you, no doubt.

Notice I didn't say "super sour," unlike the product name. Slightly sour. Mildly sour. Like, not really all that sour. For reals.

Perhaps Sour Patch Kids aren't the be-all-end-all of sour candies, but they're a good benchmark. These Scandy swimmers are nowhere close. You know how your mouth will hurt and lips sting once too many SPKs have passed them by? That's an impossibility here - the fishies just aren't potent enough.

Like SPKs, the TJ's sour swimmies use crystallized citric acid as the souring agent on the outside. The granules here aren't nearly as big and aren't quite as densely populated. The end result is a rather mild sour effect - it almost ventures more towards tangy than sour. Oh well.

Aside from that, there's a lot to like here. The gummies are soft and inviting, a little chewy, and definitely not stiff. The flavors are kinda fun, though I had to look them up - redberry starfish, (which taste like any red candy) huckleberry dolphins (I would've guessed blue raspberry), orange tangfish (spot on), and strawberry clam shells (a red berry that is different from a redberry, apparently). Yummy and gummy, just how I like my candies. And as always, added bonus of no weird chemicals and artificial colors - just fruit and veggies. Regrettably, also palm oil though. Nothing's perfect.

So in short, there's definitely blockbuster potential here, but like many summer movies, the end product just might not live completely up to the hype. Still enjoyable though. And for $2.99, definitely a good buy. Maybe sneak them into the movies. Paying full retail at the concession stand would definitely be the sourest experience of all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Super Sour Scandinavian Swimmers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Chocolate Peanut Butter Light Ice Cream

After posting our review of the Light Cookies & Cream ice cream flavor, a number of readers asserted that this Peanut Butter Chocolate version was even better. So, naturally, we had to check it out ourselves.

I'll give you the TL;DR up front—I agree with those readers, Sonia does not. 

I've always had an affinity for peanut butter, most peanut butter flavored products, and definitely any ice cream that can work the luscious, protein and good-fat-rich, creamy, buttery, legumey goodness of peanut butter into its mix in any sort of competent manner. Sonia likes peanut butter okay, but isn't particularly fond of peanut butter in her ice cream. Fair enough.

I also think peanut butter lends itself to this "protein shake in my ice cream" vibe that these light ice creams are throwing our way, or at least it works better with peanut butter than it does with sandwich cookies. I will never in a million years make the assertion that ANY of these diet ice creams even come close to the real thing, but I must admit the calorie count is dramatically lower than a pint of the full-calorie stuff.

This ice cream flaunts a rich chocolate look to it—it's a deep brown, nearly appearing like brownie batter. Each bite has plenty of chocolate flavor, and to a lesser extent, peanut butter. But there are ribbons of actual peanut butter throughout. Those bites are my favorite. There's a huge amount of peanut butter taste when you find those hidden caches of cold, stiff peanut butter that rapidly soften and melt in your mouth. My only complaint with this flavor is that there's not quite enough peanut butter. Sonia disagrees.

I'd put this very high in the running for best light ice cream flavor I've ever had, and if you're an ice cream hog like I am, you're only looking at 370 calories for the entire container. On the other hand, if I were seriously counting calories, I'd probably just get a pint of Chubby Hubby and eat it in two sittings instead of one. Still this gets a big thumbs up from me. Four stars.

Three from Sonia, who insists the Cookies & Cream one is better.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Shortcake Biscuits

As a boy growing up in the 80's, I was into Masters of the Universe and Transformers, as were the vast majority of my male friends. While it wasn't our thing, of course, we were well-aware of Strawberry Shortcake, a favorite among our young female counterparts. Likewise, Sonia, another child of The "Me" Decade, grew up a huge fan of the fruit-themed cartoon. In fact, her childhood bedroom flaunted a Strawberry Shortcake sheet set for a time.

Because of the television show's universality among our age group in particular, I spent most of my childhood—and adolescence, for that matter—associating the term "strawberry shortcake" with a red-headed cartoon character dressed in pink and white, topped with an oversized strawberry-patterned hat, rather than the delicious non-gender-specific dessert that it actually is. I don't think I even tried strawberry shortcake until young adulthood. I mean, it's not like I avoided it on purpose. I just never sought it out. Nowadays, I get a hankerin' every once in a while. Fresh fruit, whipped cream, and shortcake seems a bit lighter and more appropriate as a warm weather dessert than, say, oily, icing-laden birthday cake.

We had these biscuits with Reddi Wip Non-Dairy with Almond Milk and frozen strawberries. All three ingredients were slightly more shelf-stable versions of their traditional equivalents. These shortcake biscuits are exactly what you might assume they are—shortcake, but in biscuit form. They're denser, firmer, and drier than freshly-made shortcake. Sonia said they reminded her of scones. I totally agree. They're like plain scone bread with a lightly-sweet shortbread flavor—almost like hardtack, but significantly more dessert-like and pleasant.

Sonia remarked that she's had biscuits that taste too salty or too much like baking soda. I'm not sure I know exactly what she's talking about, but I agree with her that these pastries are pleasantly free of such flavors. They do blend well with fruit and whipped cream, as the packaging claims. I wouldn't say they're a perfect substitute for freshly made shortbread, but they're adequate for this not-completely-fresh makeshift version of the dessert that we concocted yesterday. 

$2.99 for four biscuits. Four stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins

Remember that Seinfeld episode about muffin tops? I scarcely do. It's been a while since I've sat down and watched any TV, let alone any '90s reruns. But I recall there being one about muffin tops...something about Elaine having a bakery that only sold the tops and had a hard time unloading the bottoms or "stumps". Like not even a homeless shelter wanted them. Does that sound about right? The whole point being, of course, that muffins tops are the best part of the muffin. Like most Seinfeld plots, of course it's a fairly preposterous scenario...while still somewhat rooted in a bit of reality 

This vague recollection sprung into my head while munching on a Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffin. Apparently I'm on a muffin kick this month...no matter. Gotta indulge every once in a while.

Definitely, the muffin top here is far superior to the muffin stump. It's probably for no other reason than the little sprinkling of crunchy sugar crystals encrusted up on top. There's not a whole lot of it, not nearly enough to make your teeth hurt, but just enough to help sweeten the whole thing up.

Add in the slightly crispier exterior bite, and maybe a touch extra of lemon zest, and there it is. This is one good muffin top.

The rest? Eh. It's sort of an ordinary blueberry muffin. Which isn't exactly a complaint. I'd be perfectly happy buying a muffin like this at a bakery or coffee shop, or making one of them at home that tasted just like this one. So I like them. But there's not anything too terribly special that puts them apart and above and beyond the competition. I mean, it's just...a muffin. Meh.

And unlike the recently reviewed almond muffins, there's not enough here to keep me full and going for a while, either. It's not an empty 360 calories per serving, but they're not exactly efficient either. I ate one alongside a cup of coffee and was hungry again within two hours.

Average muffins. That's about all. If only the whole thing was as good as the top...oh well. Maybe that Seinfeld episode had a bit more truth than usual to it. Double threes from my lovely bride and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Cookies & Cream Light Ice Cream

Halo Top. Arctic Zero. Enlightened. Even other store brands. Everybody's jumping on the light ice cream band wagon. Shouldn't it be "lite" ice cream, though? The old, formal, traditional spelling is so...heavy, dontcha think?

The idea of diet ice creams pre-dates this latest wave of lite offerings by at least a few decades, but it's as if they just recently realized that they don't have to make these reduced calorie offerings taste disgusting. I guess it's the advent of stevia...? I mean, there's still cane sugar, powdered sugar, cream, and eggs in this concoction—even Joe-Joe's cookies. 

So what's the secret? If it's not painfully apparent already, I'll let you know that I'm no food scientist. Could it be the "steviol glycosides"?? The dextrose? The monk fruit extract?

Wait a minute. What the heck is a monk fruit? And what is its extract doing in my cookies n' cream ice cream?

I may never answer any of these questions in my lifetime, let alone in the next few paragraphs of this review, so let's just move on to what I can tell you about this new product from Trader Joe's...

In short, it's not nearly as disgusting as the diet ice creams that were around decades ago, but it still tastes like diet ice cream.

There's a thick, rich quality to it that I've noticed in some of the other "healthy" ice cream offerings I've tried in the past couple years. I guess it's the milk protein concentrate. It's almost as if they added a protein shake into the ice cream mix. It's a little "pasty" for lack of a better word, but it blends surprisingly well with the flavor of the ice cream and cookies in this particular instance. It's still not a taste I'd ever crave over traditional full-calorie ice cream, although Sonia was even more okay with this "protein powder effect" than I was.

For the most part, the Joe-Joe's are far and few between, and they're little more than crumbs here. We're about half way through the pint at the time of the composition of this review, and there was only one notable exception to that rule so far—there was about a quarter of a full Joe-Joe cookie wedged into the mix near the top of the container. It was nice to have that big slab of cookie, but no amount of Joe-Joe's would ever make this my favorite cookies n' cream ice cream.

If you're into reduced calorie ice creams, I guess this flavor is worth a try. Flavor-wise, it's no replacement for the real thing in my opinion, but it's on par with most other light ice cream offerings on the market right now. $2.99 for a pint isn't a bad price point when compared with other brands. Also, lots of protein here, and only 100 calories per serving. 

Three stars from me. Four from the better half.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vanilla Mochi

As long as I've been shopping there, there has always been mochi at Trader Joe's, but this here is a new iteration of the Japanese-American frozen treat. They've always carried Mikawaya brand, although to be honest, I'm not 100% sure if they still do. Also, from time to time they've released their own flavors—everything from mango to pumpkin to coffee.

But as far as I know, this is the first time Trader Joe's has offered "plain" flavors with their own branding. It should be pert near impossible to screw up vanilla after tackling all those other oddball breeds, right?

Well...my answer to that question is a solid "maybe." And the maybe depends upon your feelings about the rice-based shell of this hand-held dairy dessert. I myself liked it just fine. I must admit it's a little thicker and chewier than almost any other mochi I've ever had, but it's not necessarily worse in my book, simply different. Sonia, on the other hand, hated it.

She felt like the outer mochi shell was too bulky and claimed it made the product taste and feel "stale." It moved independently of the ice cream within and kind of separated from it as you'd bite the mochi ball, whereas other mochi ice creams and shells blend seamlessly. I can totally see where she's coming from. I just didn't mind it as much.

As far as the ice cream, we were both okay with it, but not totally floored. In my opinion it tasted and felt like frozen whipped cream, rather than a rich, complex true vanilla. Fortunately, I really like whipped cream. Sonia, again, wasn't impressed at all, although she felt a little more positive about the dairy elements than the rice elements. She thought it was a bit like McDonald's-esque soft serve...so, you know, not exactly top-shelf, but still cold, creamy, and edible.

$4.49 for six mochi that come in a weird plastic egg carton-like container. Not exactly a stellar value, either. They'll do in a pinch, but we've seen better mochi from Trader Joe's, as well as from other brands. Two stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Almond Meal Muffins

Tried as I have, I'm still not a morning person. Never have been, might never be.

It doesn't matter that for over a year now I've worked an odd schedule at the day jorb that involves me waking up well before the rest of the world. I've somehow never been late for it, and usually show up even earlier. Just because I can do it doesn't mean I like it. And the days I'm off...well, I know this isn't the most conducive to a healthy sleep schedule, what with supposed to be waking up at the same time every day and all, but my body seemingly can't help but feel it needs to catch up so it can "sleep in" til I need to get on the move with the rest of the family.

So pretty much, every morning I'm pretty busy and on-the-go, whether it's rolling towards work half-sleepily or shuffling off wife and kids to whatever the day holds in store, just a little less sleepily.

So pretty much, any morning is a good morning for a Trader Joe's Almond Meal Muffin.

Quick to grab, quick to eat. So very portable. I mean, duh, it's a muffin. They're popular for this very reason. You don't need me to tell you that.

What set's the TJ's almond muffins apart though is their quality. Ever eat a muffin and still feel kinda hungry after? You won't with one of these guys. "Hearty" is an understatement. So much in here - almond meal, walnuts, eggs, carrots, zucchini, berries, oats. So many calories and so much fiber and protein. Yeah, it'll keep you going for a morning.

And thankfully, all together the muffins taste pretty great! As one would imagine, they're earthy, nutty, a little moist and dense with a little bite variant from the aforementioned fruits, nuts, and veggies. All the flavors blend well with one another, with some maple and agave helping to sweeten the whole deal. I don't think there's an ingredient I would add or subtract from this whole mix, except maybe a touch more cinnamon.

One point of contention, and I hope one of you can help clear this up since I've discarded the package without doublechecking - are these gluten free? There's no ingredients on the label that proclaim gluten to me, but I don't recall them being labelled as such. Help?

At about four bucks for the package, these muffins are an absolute steal. One of these with a coffee and an apple can be a breakfast mainstay for me for sure, no matter what kinda morning it is. Double fours from the Mrs and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almond Meal Muffins: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Peruvian Potato Chips

Salt is bad, salt is bad, salt is bad. Yes, yes, yes. I know, I know, I know.

Still...does that really stop any of us?

You can limit all the sodium intake you want, it's still out there. It's inherent in almost anything. I mean, even Cheerios, which don't taste salty at all, still have a pretty hefty amount of sodium per serving for what it is.

One cannot avoid sodium. You can only try to get out of its way as much as possible. Like...not buying chips for instance.

Or if you do, consider getting the new Trader Joe's Peruvian Potato Chips.

Not. Salty. At. All.

Will admit, not realizing their low-Na ways, I was a little disappointed with the first bite. No matter how much I've love to reprogram my tastebuds, when I'm having chips, man, I want that salt. There's barely any here though. So my tongue automatically defaults to words like "bland" and "tasteless."

It's not really the case, though. I've been to Peru, and I don't really remember any big deal being made about their potatoes grown down there in the shade of the Andes. But these are good potatoes. Compared to perhaps the American standard of the Idahoan Russet, they taste perhaps a little earthier, a little nuttier. It's kinda fun that they're a little purpley, too. It's subtle flavor but it's good.

The texture and feel of these TJ's crispers strays a little more towards kettle cooked while not being as full out crunchy. I could do with a bit more crunch, to be honest, but they'll do as is.

Overall, I'm alright with these chips. They still are a little plain as they are, but would probably work well dipped in something. You know, for like more sodium and stuff. Eh well. I'm neither amazed nor dismayed, and neither is Sandy. We'll kinda shrug our way through this bag and see if we buy again, on the rare occasion we actually buy chips. Middlin' scores each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peruvian Potato Chips: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Chocolate Hummus

There are certain things I don't ever really want Trader Joe's to come out with: banana flavored horseradish sauce, caramel baba ghanoush, hot dog ice cream, any kind of kale-based dessert, or elephant dung espresso beans, just for a few examples. I might have added chocolate hummus to that list if we had not, in fact, purchased it on our last TJ's run. 

But purchase it we did, despite both Sonia and I initially reacting with disgust. Could a combination that odd possibly be good? Sure, anything's possible. I was kinda hoping that it would be just one of those marketing snafus—you know something that doesn't necessarily sound good, but actually is good—not unlike purple yam ice cream, I guess. 

Somebody tweeted about this product last week. Of course, I can't find the tweet now, but it said something to the effect of "The chocolate hummus is great. It tastes like brownie dough." Sounded promising. I was thinking, "Well if that's the case, then why didn't they just call it 'vegan brownie dough dip' or something moderately enticing instead of chocolate hummus...?" Then they could just let us discover that it's made with garbanzo beans after we've had a strawberry or two dipped in it and we've already fallen in love with it. Everybody wins.

Dessert hummus just didn't sound appealing to me, but I absolutely love chick peas, hummus, and I don't have any major problems with chocolate, either. So we dove right in. Aaaand at first bite, I tasted chocolate...and hummus. Just in case the first bite was a fluke, I took a second. Again, chocolate....and hummus. They didn't call it "brownie dough dip" because it's chocolate hummus. It is hummus...that's chocolate flavored. And there's just not quite enough chocolate flavor to drown out the garbanzo-y hummus flavor, which, again, I love...just not when it's mixed with chocolate. It's truly very close to the unappetizing flavor I imagined in my mind when I first heard the phrase "chocolate hummus." It's a darker, cocoa-ish chocolate flavor that's not very sweet, but still characteristically very chocolatey, and in my opinion, doesn't blend very well with the earthy, legumey goodness of chick peas. 

Everybody knows strawberries and chocolate go great together. Would you ever add hummus to your chocolate strawberries? Did it ever occur to anyone to mix Gone Berry Crazy with hummus? If your answer to either of those questions is "yes," then go ahead and try this stuff. You might love it. I, however, did not.

Even the texture is identical to traditional hummus. There's a fair amount of grittiness to it. I wasn't a huge fan of the way it mixed with fruit. Strawberries, raspberries. Neither worked perfectly in my opinion. I tried it with pita bread, just because, you know...hummus and pita, right? Wrong. I almost wanted to try it with pita and peanut butter and see if that worked, but we didn't have pb on hand, and I had kinda noped out by that point anyway.

Could it ever replace Nutella or Cocoa Almond Spread? Not in our household. Not that we have Nutella much anyway, but I'd never put this stuff on par with the classic hazelnut spread for any dessert-ish applications.

Sonia? She couldn't make up her mind. The only word she could utter after I demanded she share her impression of the product was "weird." "I dunno. It's weird, it's weird," she kept repeating, as if stunned by the audacity to even create such an enigmatic commodity. If it were up to this guy, the tub would go back for a no-hassle refund. Sonia wants to give it another chance, suggesting that she'll eat it plain, one spoonful at a time, although, even as she says it, it's obvious she's turned off by the notion.

Three stars from Sonia. Two from me.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Neapolitan Joe-Joe's Ice Cream

Just about a year ago, Trader Joe's introduced Neapolitan Joe-Joe's cookies. They consist of one chocolate cookie and one vanilla cookie with strawberry filling in between. Unless you twist off one of the cookie portions to eat it separately, you're getting all three flavors in one bite, whether you like it or not. That's what you're getting here, too. There's vanilla and strawberry ice creams, yielding a strawberries n' cream-esque base, plus tons of firm, fudgy chocolate bits. Honestly, the cookie pieces are far and few between, to the point that neither Sonia nor I noticed them at all. We both wish there were significantly less chocolate and significantly more cookies.

The resulting conglomeration of the dual ice creams and chocolate pieces isn't an unpleasant flavor, but it's also not something I'd ever seek out on a regular basis. When I'm in the mood for chocolate, I'm in the mood for chocolate—but it's rare that I'll crave all three flavors at once.

Whenever I think of Neapolitan ice cream, I can't help but remember this classic Homer Simpson clip. He's really into the chocolate, obviously, but perhaps also appreciates the option of vanilla or strawberry if the mood should strike him. Or maybe he's just a lovable idiot. Either way, Neapolitan—or vanilla/chocolate/strawberry, if you prefer—is his go-to ice cream product. At least with the classic Neapolitan, you have the option to eat whichever flavor you prefer, or to mix them in whatever ratio you feel like at the moment.

If I were going to design a Neapolitan ice cream that's a mashup of all three constituent flavors, Trader Joe's-style, I'd throw in massive cookie chunks—maybe even whole Neapolitan Joe-Joe's cookies. I'd mix in real strawberry bits, and I'd keep the base strawberry-vanilla like they have it. I'd swirl in small ribbons of liquid chocolate syrup, and then I'd wave my magic wand and make it organic, non-dairy, fat-free, and I'd import it from Germany for no particular reason. Then I'd wave my magic wand again, discontinue the Neapolitan stuff, and bring back Lemon Triple Gingersnap Ice Cream and Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy. Also, I'd bring back Trader Joe's Energy Drinks, declare myself emperor of the world, and fly away on an enchanted unicorn. A boy can dream, can't he?

$2.99 for the pint. Three stars a piece on this one.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Beary Tiny Gummies

Mmmm. Beef byproducts—something I always look for in a candy.

Bovine gelatin. At least it's a certified organic bovine gelatin. Am I right? Also, I'll take cow gelatin over pork gelatin any day of the week. At least we've got the potential of being kosher here, too. Plus, it's French beef gelatin. Ooh la la. 

No, seriously. This product is imported from France. I couldn't tell you why it's imported from France. That seems to be the case with quite a few selections at Trader Joe's—they come from Europe or Asia when there's no obvious reason why they couldn't come from the good old US of A. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a big problem with European imports, I'm just waxing philosophical here. But that's probably not why you're reading this review. So let's talk about the candy for a moment.

First impressions: they're tiny, true to their name—like maybe half the size of a normal gummy bear. That just means you have to shovel twice as many into your mouth to get the same flavor impact as you might with traditional gummy bears.

There's a fresh citrusy smell and flavor to all the bears. The ingredients list mentions a bunch of fruit and vegetable juices which are there "for color." I'm pretty sure I can detect slight differences in the flavors, but I guess that's due to the unspecified "natural flavors." There's almost a grapefruit essence I'm tasting here. I kinda like it. These bears are extremely similar to the ones that had a "chocolate pool day" not long ago.

Sonia likes the taste even more than I do in this case. However, we both feel like gummies such as the T's and J's that employ tapioca syrup and corn starch not only taste better, but have a little less of a weirdness factor. Yes, I know most gummies contain gelatin—that's one of the many reasons we don't eat them that often, and one of the many reasons why the T's and J's were my favorite gummies of all time, bar none.

Final observations: there's a grotesque bear on the cover art cannibalizing other smaller bears. The bag has three servings, which could easily be consumed all at once, which, I believe is being demonstrated by said grotesque bear. 99 cents for the bag. 

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

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ketchup Flavored Spud Crunchies

"But what if I don't like ketchup?"

Whoomp there it is.

That question hung in the air, pregnantly. Even I, who spoke it, couldn't believe it left my mouth. Karen, who is our family's favorite local TJ's employees, was experiencing some minor shock. I mean, there she was, working the sample station, giving my kids animal crackers, and telling what new and fun things I needed to try...and I laid that on her. I, Russ, who lives in Pittsburgh, within easy walking distance of where Heinz Ketchup was originally both created and manufactured, as a full red blooded American, admitted that I don't like ketchup. Never have, not even as a kid.

"Ummm...welll...I don't know how to answer that. But you oughtta try them, I guess. They're excellent," Karen finally said. "I don't know how to not like ketchup though."

Of course all of this was in reference to Trader Joe's Ketchup Flavored Spud Crunchies. Who better than me, lifelong ketchup skeptic, to review, right?

I don't know why I don't like ketchup, and after having about half the bag of these stick shape snacks, I still couldn't tell you. These are great. Each spud stick is liberally coated with a dusting of ketchup flavoring, and there's no mistaking it when it hits the taste buds. Initially, it's a touch tomato-ey sweet before moving on to other various flavors, like vinegar, onion and garlic. It's all very well balanced and ends with a touch of mild spice. In some ways the flavor is almost ultra-mild barbecue sauce....which is just another way of saying ketchup, I suppose. I like barbecue sauce though. Through it all, there's definitely the potato flavor coming through too, so overall the flavor impression of the spud crunchies is probably pretty close to eating some fries with ketchup, just in dry form.

Love the fry shape too. For whatever reason, potato sticks are more fun that potato chips, and they definitely give a different crunch. Remember Andy Capp Fries? I ate way too many of them in my formative years. These TJ's crunchers are fairly similar, except maybe a touch softer and not quite as "stale" feeling. Of course, my frame of reference is the snack bags from my middle school vending machine, so take that as you will. The sticks are easily snackable, poppable and portable. Yum.

I like them, I really do. I may not like ketchup (as reconfirmed recently on our family vacation) but apparently I like ketchup flavor, so there's that. Make out of that as you will. Each four serving bag is $1.99 which seems a reasonable enough price. I'll give 'em four spoons, and while Sandy actually hasn't had enough of them to warrant much opinion, our four year old wants to give them "100 golden spoons cuz they so yummy!" I'll take that as perfect score from her.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ketchup Flavored Spud Crunchies: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Creamy Cashew Cultured Yogurt Alternative

When I was a kid, my mother was nuts about nuts. She was also a little nutty. She passed her love of nuts on to me, as well as her nuttiness.

Cashews were always among her favorite, so I too developed an affinity for the oddly-shaped tree-borne seeds at an early age.

Significantly thicker than cashew milk and significantly thinner than cashew butter, we find ourselves looking at cashew yogurt. There's a substantial amount of innate cashew flavor here, so I would think an appreciation for, or at least tolerance of, cashews will be in order for this product.

Thinking about what I know of cashew butter, I assumed I'd like the vanilla bean flavor more. Call it confirmation bias, but my instincts were correct. Think of cool, runny cashew butter mixed with real vanilla flavor. It works, at least in my book.

Sonia liked the strawberry flavor a little more. I felt as if vanilla and cashew complemented one another while strawberry and cashew competed, if that makes sense. Sonia just appreciated the fruitiness of the latter and felt that there was a stronger overall flavor. I certainly didn't hate it, but I've never had a craving for a cashew butter and strawberry jelly sandwich ever in my life, and similarly, I doubt I'll ever get it in my mind to seek out strawberry cashew yogurt in the future, but who knows?

$1.69 per cup. This could be a bigger deal for lactose-intolerant people, vegans, or folks that have an aversion to almond or coconut milk yogurts than it is for us. But neither flavor is bad by any means. I'd pick up the vanilla flavor as a snack in the future. Sonia would consider a re-purchase of strawberry. I'll go a half star or so higher on vanilla bean, while Sonia will follow suit on the berry variety, so our scores will offset one another, yielding the same overall mark for both flavors.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's French Crêpe Wafer Cookies

More. Freaking. Cookies. 

I'm baffled as to why Trader Joe's makes so many different kinds of cookies, and I'm even more confused about why we bother reviewing them so religiously.

At least I was confused...before I shoveled a bunch of these delightful, crispy, buttery, flavorful, snacky sweet, angular edibles into my mouth—all the lightness and deliciousness of crepes in wafer cookie form. Now these could be one of my "desert island cookies." As of right now, they're definitely on Sonia's short list, too. 

They're tasty by themselves or slathered with cookie butter or served with ice cream...and I'm sure most of you readers have come up with dozens of ridiculously wondrous things to do with them that never occurred to me. I'll admit I was so enamored with them that I gobbled up most of my share plain before I tried putting any fixins on them. Sonia was the one that got creative with cookie butter and ice cream. 

Looks like traderjoes.com is suggesting we serve them with banana slices and chocolate syrup. That could work, as well, and it's probably more authentically crepey. 

$2.49 for a box with two separate little plastic trays covered in cellophane. Packaging overkill? Perhaps. But I'm sure it's there in hopes of preserving the outstanding buttery flavor of these wafers a little longer. There's also a delicate, multi-layered crispness that's hard to describe.

3.5 servings? Seems like a very random number to me, but whatever you say, Trader Joe.

The isosceles triangle is relatively unexplored territory in the world of geometrically-inspired snacking. I guess tortilla chips are isosceles, at least some of the time, too—and they are also quite tasty. They should offer isosceles triangle-shaped pancakes and pyramid-shaped cakes and pies and see if it makes them more delicious. 

Four and a half stars from Sonia once again. And another four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Coffee Lover's Espresso Beans

Alright, everyone: Best road trip snacks. Go!

I've gone through different phases. A pack of minty gum is always good, but you need more. Sometimes pretzels, sometimes Combos. Some gummy candies are always welcome. For a while I was really into baby carrots for whatever reason, and I recall my brother saying once he liked having clementines along because they had the added bonus of making his car "smell nice." And of course, caffeine in some form, whether soda or more preferably coffee.

After our most recent vacation, Sandy and I may have a new favorite to add to the rotation. You guessed, it, it's Trader Joe's Coffee Lover's Espresso Beans.

Chocolate covered coffee beans are just about dang perfect for the road. You get a little inital sugar rush and then a good coffee buzz to keep you alert, without adding a bunch of liquid to your system that will make you stop every other travel plaza.

These TJ's coffee chocobeans aren't an exception. Just a few will get you going for sure. Plus, it's kinda fun with the different colors of them - the dark brown, the tan, the offwhite ones - even if they all kinda taste the same.

Yeah, I'd say that's the one downside. With the various shades and them "being inspired by your favorite sweet coffee combinations" I was hoping for, say, some caramel machiato ones, some "regular", some cappuccino type flavors, but nah, not so much. And it's a bit odd that TJ's markets it as chocolate, because it seems more of a creamy, sweet, sugary candy melt type coating than actual real chocolate. I'd somewhat discount my take - after all, I was popping them in while keeping the family minivan from hitting all the dang interstate potholes (seriously, NY, get your stuff together), but Sandy said much the same.

Other than that, I definitely enjoyed popping a couple in, waiting for the candy to soften a bit, and then crunch on down and get that hit. The small package cost no more than a couple bucks but kept Sandy and I going for hours. The beans were good enough for a nearly immediate rebuy for use at home and work, too - not just for the road, of course. Double fours for sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Coffee Lover's Espresso Beans: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Strawberry Greek Frozen Yogurt Parfait Bars

On hot summer days, I'll pop open the freezer to see what frozen goodies the wife has stashed away. I'll often find a box of Outshine yogurt bars hiding behind stacks of frozen veggies and waffles. Sonia knows better than to advertise such purchases to me. After grocery runs, she'll discreetly put them in the back of the ice box when I'm not looking. 

It's not that she wants to keep them all to herself. She's smart enough to know that I'll eat the entire box in a day if I'm aware of them right away. So generally, she'll consume the first bar or two in the day following their arrival to our freezer, and all the rest will rapidly fall prey to my insatiable sweet tooth. For those of you who like to preach "self-control" and "willpower," I'd like to point out that there are, in fact, different kinds of self-control. Mine is the kind that refrains from purchasing sweets while at the grocery store in the first place. Once they're in the house, it's game-over for me, provided that I'm aware of their presence.

I'm pretty sure these parfait bars will take the place of Outshine in our freezer now. Sonia is a huge fan. And that's a good thing. Because she'll make sure she eats at least half of them right off the bat. This first box didn't even last a full hour between the two of us. We ate two immediately upon arrival, semi-melted from the July heat, while the remaining two re-froze for a bit.

The flavor is excellent. Not too sticky sweet, not too tangy. It's strawberry yogurt at its best—creamy, flavorful, and satisfying. The granola is a wonderful addition. It's not intrusive or excessive, and it adds a little body and fullness to the texture. If you're expecting super crunchy granola, you might be a bit disappointed. It's "soggy" granola, for lack of a better word, but we both like it just fine. It's like the granola you might find in one of the "bowl" offerings from Jamba Juice or somewhere similar. The bars are relatively small, but they're fairly filling.

$2.99 for four bars. Pretty decent numbers as far as fat and calories are concerned. There's a fair amount of added sugars, but when balanced against the overall satisfaction factor, it's definitely not a deal-breaker here.

Four and a half stars and an enthusiastic thumbs up from Sonia. Four stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Soft Baked Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

For a grocery store chain that's known for carrying exotic fare and maintaining at least a facade of healthiness, they sure roll out a lot of dang cookies. By a quick count, we've reviewed somewhere in the ballpark of 60 or 70 different types of Trader Joe's brand cookies on this blog alone. 

That's a lot of cookies, the vast majority of which aren't reduced guilt or low calorie or anything like that. If you click that link, it'll show you the results for searching "cookies" on this blog. Apparently some browsers are covering the additional pages of results with a banner ad. I'm looking at you, Google Chrome. Worked fine on Firefox for me. But most of you aren't going to wade through seven pages of cookie reviews spanning the past decade anyway. I wouldn't blame you. 

Because many of these cookie varieties aren't particularly memorable. A few are, but I highly doubt we'll agree on which two or three of those Trader Joe's baked goods we want to take to our desert island and survive on for the rest of our life.

Funfact: the cookie on the packaging is actual size. See pic above.

This particular offering isn't bad, but it's definitely not one of my desert island choices. And, I mean, I LOVE peanut butter. 

You can taste the peanut butter for sure. These are basically typical, everyday peanut butter cookies that happen to be full of chocolate chips. They're a little softer than your average peanut butter cookie, I guess, and perhaps a tad thicker, both of which are pleasant variations on the classic cookie. Still, I would have preferred them to be even softer, chewier. They're kind of crumbly and dry as they are. 

The flavor is fine. There is peanut butter and there is chocolate, but they never really come together in that special way that Reese's seem to. The bread part of the cookie seems oddly dominant, and there's a bit of an aftertaste.

Sonia seemed to like them more than I did, which was unexpected. She'll give these three and a half stars. I give 'em three.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.