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.

Trader Joe's Organic Buffalo Style Hummus

Back in my bachelor days of yore, it wasn't uncommon for me to totally toss whatever from the pantry or fridge together and totally make up whatever I was gonna eat for whatever meal. It was a total choose-your-own-adventure mixed with horrible amateur Food Network show type deal. My motto always was, worst to comes to worst and it was awful, I'd just put some hot sauce on it.

Now I'm older and more refined and married and stuff like that, and I enjoy things like hummus a lot more than I did before.

Still, back then and even up to now, I never considered mixing hot sauce and hummus...but here we are with Trader Joe's Organic Buffalo Style Hummus.

Simplistic genius, as I've come to expect from TJ's. Nicely done.

Really, that's all there really is to this product. Hot sauce and hummus. It works...kinda. The heat profile does stray a little bit towards vinegar to my taste. Also the creaminess of the hummus seems to subtly suggest a phantom presence of ranch dressing-like substance which is surely inaccurate and undetected by my better half, but it seems to be there to me. The consistency is also a little off, as the hummus is a little thinner with less body than normal hummus. Of course, with my own consistency being off, I can say the exact opposite about my gut right now. Dang hummus.

All that being said...yes please. I dig this completely. I want to dig the hummus with some chips. Or veggies. Or falafel. Or pita. Or...well, you get the idea. Although imperfect, the buffalo hummus is a perfectly adequate marriage of two great condiments that's about the equal of its parts. It's not a life changer but that doesn't mean it's not good.

Sandy said she liked that were was a certain "buffalo chicken dip but healthier-ish" vibe going on. I can see what she's saying and I know better than to refute her too strongly. This'll be our snacky time go-to this week, and at $2.99 for the tub it's not an awful deal. Though I will say the tub seems smaller than other TJ hummus..oh well. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Buffalo Style Hummus: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate & Honey Toffee Pecans

I mentioned a few posts ago that Lemon Lunacy should be added to Mango Mania and Coffeepalooza as another seasonal Trader Joe's flavor extravaganza. Well, on that same note, I guess Toffeepalooza wouldn't be a bad idea either. We're going on 8 or 9 product reviews with the word "toffee" displayed prominently in the title of the product, and a number of others where toffee ingredients or flavors were featured noticeably in the offering but failed to make top billing for one reason or another.

So when I heard about these morsels, it made me wonder why we needed one more toffee-based candy on the shelves of Trader Joe's. Despite its newfangledness and potential buzzworthiness, I might have even passed over it entirely. However, Sonia snagged a bag on her latest TJ's shopping adventure at our old stomping grounds right in the heart of Hollyweird, California.

She was no doubt influenced by the simple, eye-catching honeycomb pattern and stylish font on the bag. Graphic designers are so easily swayed by attractive package design. <sigh> Just because it looks good doesn't mean it is good. Case in point: that "glamorous" Oscars show some of you might have watched the other night is filmed right in the middle of a giant perpetual freak show...and it hasn't gotten any less bizarre since we lived there.

But Sonia's instincts were right again. Unlike Hollyweird, this product lives up to its chic veneer. Upon opening the bag, there's a delightful chocolatey smell that wafts out from the package, with hints of the titular honey and toffee as well. The candies are markedly larger than most pecan nuts, ostensibly because they're coated in so much chocolate and toffee. Most pieces are perfectly bite-sized, but the largest ones are surprisingly grandiose, resembling palm-sized stones, rather than mere pebbles—easily big enough for multiple bites.

The taste is exactly like the smell: full of sweet milk chocolate, honey, and toffee, but with plenty of nutty pecan flavor, too. They're crunchy by virtue of the nuts and toffee, but not unpleasantly hard or brittle. Honestly, they're addictive. There's a resealable zipper at the top of the bag, but if you break this bad boy open in a group of four or more people, there's a good chance you'll never get to use it.

If the title sounds appealing to you and you're a fan of all the constituent ingredients, I can't imagine you'll be too disappointed by this product. Toffee and chocolate aren't really my snacks of choice, but I was once again pleasantly surprised. Double fours once more.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky

What is the sound of one hand clapping?

If a tree falls in the forest but no one hears it, does it make a sound?

What came first, reality TV infamy or the Kardashians?

All of these are unanswerable questions. Meditate on them night and day, and just maybe you'll have an answer...but all of these are timeless mysteries for a reason.

What is watermelon, though, without water?

One could seek out your local friendly mountaintop Zen master...or whip out a food dehydrator and give yourself about a week or so...

...or as of about right now you can head down to everyone here's favorite grocery shop, plop down $3.69, and buy yourself a bag of Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky.

That's right. Watermelon. In jerky form. As in a famously watery fruit, highly sought after for its thirstquenching glory, dried and flattened and rolled up so as to eliminate any trace of a drop of some high quality H2O.

Listen, I'm about as baffled as you. Or I was. I first heard about this weeks ago and called every other day since then...but there were rollout delays, then weather issues, then...well, finally, I snagged four bags and couldn't wait to rip one open to behold this magical arid fibrous fruit wonder. Waited so long....

It's odd stuff, for sure. It's unquestionably a very concentrated watermelon flavor, as one might expect. It's not as intense as I anticipated, but I'm glad TJ's didn't go the added sugars route. It's just watermelon sans water.

Interesting tidbit from the bag bottom:

Wow! If I'm doing my math right, the end product is about 1/34th its original weight, and is about three quarts of water extracted. Watermelon was hitting that Lasix hard. 

All well and good, but what about the texture? How does it actually work?

The melon jerky is kinda stiff, fibrous, and a little sticky. Both bags I have opened thus far have had all the pieces clumped all together necessitating them to be plied apart carefully. I lack any better way to explain it than saying, imagine a thin, dense sponge that got baked dry. That probably sounds more awful then I intend it you, but there's a surprising amount of chew to it. It's not as much as a jerky from a regular source, but still. There's not too many seeds in the jerky either - I think I've seen maybe only two or three per bag, and they meld in well enough with the rest of the product.

When all said and done, though, I'm not sure how much I actually truly like the watermelon jerky. There's an absolute novelty factor at work, which hit me with some initial marvel, but once it wore off, I was just eating weirdly dry waterlessmelon. I've heard it said that watermelon jerky could be considered a vegan alternative to regular jerky - well, if that's your thing, go for it, but that's a bit of a stretch to me.

I brought some into work to share, and most reviews were pretty friendly. The melon jerky definitely made for some odd reactions and some flatout rejections...but most were positive.

My final call is, if you like watermelon and novel snackage, the jerky is worth at least one try. Worst comes to worst, you can do TJ's no-hassle return policy - but I doubt it'd come to that. I don't know...double fours? That's as much juice as I can squeeze here for these edible contradictions.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Jerky: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Ruby Cacao Wafers

Wafers?

Seriously?

No. No. No.

Just to make sure I wasn't crazy, as least not as it pertains to the definition of a wafer, I Googled it. There it is, first result, right up top, set forth by whichever source Google deems as most trustworthy...

wa·fer

Dictionary result for wafer

/ˈwāfər/

noun

1. 1.

   a very thin, light, crisp, sweet cookie or cracker, especially one of a kind eaten with ice cream.

So imagine my surprise then, when opening a bag of Trader Joe's Ruby Cacao Wafers, that I did not see any wafers any where. None.

What I see instead: all these little roundish flat purply brown rose colored morsels that looked like a nonpointy ill chocolate chip or a baby candy melt.

No cookie. No crispy stuff. Nothing waferesque at all. Just these little pebbles that would look at home in an aquarium. I was sold a sack of lies.

Fortunately, whatever you may call them, these TJ's ruby cacao thingermabobs are actually pretty tasty.

My lovely bride, ever the source of new, trendy, cool stuff she sees all over Instagram, says that ruby cacao is a newish fad sweeping America, and that in Japan there's like ruby cacao KitKats. Or, you know, things with actual wafers. I digress. Never heard of it, so here's my first go...

Wow. Unique. I'm still struggling to come up with the right descriptors. Obviously, there's a healthy chocolate element, definitely towards the darker, deeper end. Yet there's so much sweetness - not even like from a chocolate covered berry, except similar. It's just not as potent, yet fruity in a different way. I checked the ingredients to see if any fruit flavors added - nope. Apparently it's what the beans taste like, and best I can tell you is, try some for yourself if you haven't already.

The morsels are soft, softer than most chocolate chips and closer to the aforementioned candy melts, except not as chalky. Speaking of melts, the cacao bits seem to do a good job of that - pop some in your mouth but keep 'em there for a few to let the taste come alive a little and wash all over. I also nuked a few and they melted right on up without much fuss. I suppose they could be used to dip all sorts of stuff in if that's your thing.

Sandy's not overly impressed. She had a couple then opted for a cookie for her night time treat, as did our daughters. I had a few small handfuls to try and get a better sense - I'd use the word interesting or intriguing more than delicious for them. They're kinda odd, but in a good way...probably. I dunno, try them for your self, kids. Middle scores here because we don't know what else to do, the only thing we're not wavering on is these aren't wafers. Period.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ruby Cacao Wafers: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons