Trader Joe's Vegan Cauliflower Cookie Butter

Bottom line: 10 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Falafel Mix

It's been seven freaking years since our review of Trader Joe's Heat & Eat Falafel. Seven years. Goodness.

I'll spare you the spiel about how and when I discovered falafel since I covered that in the previous review. Suffice it to say that I like it, and both Sonia and I thoroughly enjoyed Trader Joe's frozen falafel offering. So how does this mix n' fix variety square up? Read on.

Shelf-stable and affordable at just $2.99 for the whole package, this mix can mix it up with the best of them in my humble opinion. The spice level was just about right, and at least when fried, the texture isn't quite perfect, but close enough to justify featuring this product as the centerpiece of a Middle Eastern or Mediterranean meal, as well as repeat purchases in the near future.

Check out the pic of the mix just by itself (left).

 When something looks this much like sawdust, my expectations automatically go down. Not necessarily because it will, in fact, taste like sawdust, but because my overactive, neurotic brain will insist that it is sawdust. Fortunately, the next step—the "just add water" step (right)—looks slightly less like sawdust and more like a gritty, hummussy paste, and the final step after frying looks shockingly like normal falafel.

I feel like the product is just a little more inclined to fall apart while being eaten than other types of falafel, but if it's being served in a pita, that's really not an issue. We had it with pita bread, this excellent Trader Joe's brand tzatziki sauce, and some hummus. It's satisfying and filling, and it's got a nice nutty flavor. Of course, when fried, the extra olive oil helps out with the taste.
 

We did try making a batch in the oven, too. It's nothing to complain about, and it's a little less calorific that way, although you do have to coat them with oil before baking them. I'm sure they pick up significantly more oil when fried. Frying them also improves the structural integrity of the product somewhat. From the oven, it's just a tad too dry for my taste.

Both preparation methods involved a one hour period for the mixture to set. Sonia thinks the frying would have been a lot simpler with a deep fat fryer, while she simply made them in the skillet.

Sonia insists these turned out better than the aforementioned heat and eat style falafel. I think I liked the heat and eat ones just a mite bit more than these, but we both agree that this product is a better value overall, making three large batches of about nine falafel balls each. The box claims there are nine servings of three balls each. Our serving sizes tended to be larger than just three falafel balls—we ate four or five in a single sitting, but there are easily, at minimum, four to six meals-worth of falafel in the package, even for larger appetites.

Five stars from Sonia. Four stars from me.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Kale, Cashew & Basil Pesto

I've never been a huge fan of pesto. I was never sure why. Something about the flavor just kinda rubbed me the wrong way. And I've often been told by readers that I'm not allowed to review foods that I don't already appreciate because my score will be unfairly biased against the product.

But this product is a prime example of why I still try foods that I "know" I don't like. In this case, like so many others, the devil was in the details. I never bothered looking at the ingredients of traditional pesto. Usually, there are pine nuts. And I hate pine nuts. To be fair, if Trader Joe's ever offers a bag of plain pine nuts, I'll refrain from reviewing those—unless it's some new species of pine nuts or ones coated in wasabi or cookie butter or something crazy like that. 

Cue the reader comments that tell me TJ's does offer a bag of plain pine nuts. And a version where they're covered in wasabi. Wouldn't surprise me. Readers, we love your comments. But anyway, I digress.

The point is that this product employs cashews instead of pine nuts. And I like cashews. And that makes all the difference in the world to me. I mean, the product doesn't taste a lot like cashews per se—I just prefer them as an ingredient to pine nuts. Also, I'm not sure that most pesto contains kale...and I like kale, too. The texture is like a mushy vegetable puree. It's thick, soft, and spreadable.

I'd eat this stuff on pasta, potatoes, sandwiches, crackers, pita, or even as a chip dip. Sonia liked it enough that it inspired another short video review. $3.69 for the tub. Four stars a piece.

 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Tabbouleh

Despite my familiarity and affinity for most Middle Eastern cuisines, I've only had tabbouleh once before sampling this cauliflowerized version from Trader Joe's. I remember liking it all right but not becoming obsessed with it like I did chicken shawarma. Nevertheless, the "Levantine vegetarian salad" is very popular among various Middle Eastern cuisines, and is nearly as ubiquitous as shawarma, pita, and hummus in ethnic restaurants here in the US.

I like traditional tabbouleh just a little more than this offering from Trader Joe's, but not for the reasons you might assume. The primary difference between this tabbouleh and one you might find at your local Lebanese restaurant is that they've substituted bulgur wheat with cauliflower, rendering a product that is not only vegan, but also gluten-free. As a result, the taste is slightly less nutty—less bready, if you will. But both Sonia and I agree that the cauliflower affects the texture of the tabbouleh significantly more than the flavor. The whole dish is soft and wet to begin with, and if anything, the cauliflower makes it softer—but it also lends a sogginess to it that might be off-putting to some.

The flavor is nice and fresh, citrusy, and subtly oniony. This dish reminds me very much of pico de gallo, but with cold riced cauliflower mixed in. And like pico de gallo, this tabbouleh can be used with Mexican dishes as well as Mediterranean ones, or it could simply be served with tortilla chips as an appetizer. Tell your guests it's "Mexican-Middle Eastern Fusion," even if it's just because you didn't have pita bread on hand.

That brings me to my next point: like pico de gallo, this product is full of raw tomatoes. I don't remember the tabbouleh I tried long ago containing so many pieces of tomato, but I guess it must have, since they're one of the main ingredients in almost any tabbouleh recipe. I'm not a huge fan of raw tomato, and I'm sure I'd have appreciated the flavor a little more if there weren't so many in there. I did my best to eat around them and pick them out and give them to Sonia the tomatophile, who was happy to gobble them up by themselves or mixed in with the rest of the tabbouleh.

This product works as a side for Mediterranean foods, as a condiment for chicken dishes that might need spruced up, or as a dip for chips, crisps, or pita bread. I'm sure it would do well as a substitute for tapenade—you could surely use it to top off bruschetta. I'd throw this on top of burritos or nachos. Eat it with fish. I could go on...

Accessible to vegans, vegetarians, and the gluten intolerant, TJ's has provided a very versatile dish here. $3.69 for the tub. And yet another Trader Joe's cauliflower product gets the thumbs up from the WG@TJ's team. Three and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Green Goddess Salad Dressing

When Trader Joe's offers up female-themed, gender-specific products like this one, I always have to do a self-induced Man Card check. 

I mean, one could argue that Trader Joe himself is a dude, and that nearly every product in the store has a dude's name on it. But a chick purchasing Cowboy Burgers or Cowboy Caviar? Nobody bats an eyelid. I buy Cowgirl Bark—and the female clerk that rang me up actually called me out on it. Other parts of that classic review were indeed fictional—and me calling my own review "classic" is absolutely meant to be as tongue-in-cheek as you were hoping it was. But the part about the Trader Joe's employee wondering why I was buying Cowgirl Bark instead of the "boy" version really, truly, honestly happened.

So now, when "goddess" type products pop up on TJ's shelves, to prove to myself how secure I am in my masculinity...

I send my lovely Sonia in to purchase them while I wait in the car.

I mean, I'm well aware that food-blogging about salad dressing isn't quite as manly as, say, felling mighty cedar trees with a hacksaw or driving a monster truck through a massive, fiery explosion, so I'm demonstrating some level of security here anyway, right? I've reviewed mango, pumpkin spice, and even light beer products. I'm secure as heck...right? I guess if I even have to ask you, then I already have my answer. Oh well.

Insecure or not, I must say I do like this dressing. It's super thick, but relatively smooth, and it tastes as green as it looks. It coats everything it touches, so you don't have to use much with each serving. 

It's decidedly avocado-y. There's a bright citrusy zing from the lemon juice, too—and underneath those dominant flavors is a subtle, but remarkably unique blend of garlic, spices, and apple cider vinegar. It worked very well on salad, but I think there are plenty of other applications here.

It certainly doesn't taste exactly like guacamole, but it could probably serve in the same capacity. It's delicious as a chip dip, and I imagine it would be stellar as a sauce for fish tacos, sandwiches, baked potatoes, or nachos.

$3.69 for the small bottle. Even with teeny-weeny serving sizes, it'll go fast, because you'll want to eat it with everything. No weird ingredients, low in calories, vegan. Definitely avoid if you hate avocados or guac. I wish they made a version with some heat. I'm not sure what will pair just right with it... jalapeños? Tapatio? Cayenne pepper? We'll just have to experiment. Four stars from me. Four and a half from my "goddess," Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy

It's a rare condition that I link to the same seven-year-old post twice in a single week, but that's what we're gonna have to do here. Because in that post, Mr. Shelly states that the Mount Rushmore of Ice Cream would include Ben & Jerry's legendary Cherry Garcia. At the very least, the Vermont-based, Penn State-educated duo set the bar for cherry-flavored frozen desserts with their famous offering. Russ and I are both far too young and drug-free to be considered true Deadheads, but I do appreciate the ice cream as well as its late, great namesake and his music. By the way, Ben and Jerry, when will Bob Weir get an ice cream named after him?

But seriously though, as I scour the web for some background info during my brief prep for writing this post, I am dumbfounded by two revelations: 

1) Ben & Jerry's offers a non-dairy Cherry Garcia made with almond milk, and... 

2) This particular product was available at Trader Joe's at least A DECADE AGO. See: this blogspot food review.

In cases like this, it's anybody's guess as to whether this product was discontinued and then re-released, or whether it's been available all these years, somehow eluding our sights there in the frozen aisle. This recent tweet made me assume it was a new product.

If it has been there all these years, quite frankly I'm shocked that we didn't hear more about it, because it's pretty fantastic. In some ways, the slight nuttiness of the soy milk blends with the chocolate and cherry flavors even better than traditional dairy milk does. I'm eager to try B&J's almond milk-based version now, as that might work even better still. But as it stands, I'd hold this Soy Creamy flavor in higher esteem than the vanilla flavor we tried a while back.

There are plenty of chocolate chips, and the cherries are pretty awesome. They're basically just sugared cherries—as sweet as maraschino cherries, but without the formaldehyde and radioactive Red 40. Plenty of 'em, too. The overall flavor is sweet, but not too sweet, with very little aftertaste.

Sonia is a little under the weather right now and admittedly can't taste very much. She did like the bit of flavor she could detect, and of course she enjoyed the texture. Four stars from her. As someone who generally prefers dairy milk over soy milk, I think this product is worth 4.5, especially if you're lactose-intolerant or vegan.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce

"Hooray for flu season!" - No One Ever.

Huzzah, Here it is again, flu season. I'm writing this review on Day 6 of a Tamiflu dosing regimen. Normally I wouldn't go that far, but poor Sandy had a confirmed case last week, and with small kids and their germs and whatever else in the house, I ain't taking my chances. We've been spared much of the worst symptoms, but the congestion and coughs and everything else...ugh. The temps pingponging between the 50s and 60s back down to the negatives surely isn't helping. We're also doing some nice home remedies...chicken soup, honey, hot tea, warm bathes, all that stuff...

And you know what else helps with those? Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce. Seriously.

I'm not gonna sit here and purport to be any sort of zhoug expert. Heck, I don't even know how to pronounce it - zoog? zog? zawwwg? zowg? - and will admit it's my first go around. But apparently it's a pretty common concoction in Middle East cuisine - the package here says Yemen, some online sources seem to tie zhoug to more Israeli roots. Regardless, if I saw zhoug as a menu option somewhere I'd be reluctant to try it, but this TJ's take has me 100% on board with giving it a further try.

What TJ's zhoug seems most to me like is a cilantro pesto sauce with plenty of kick. That's really the other feel of the sauce - oily, herbaceous, and very, very green. No pine nuts or anything like that, though. It's not as overpoweringly cilantro-y as I thought it'd be, must be some conjuring in there somewhere.

Beware though - it's spicy. And that's an understatement. It's sneaky, though. It might not be on your first bite. And maybe not til your fifth or so. But out of nowhere - BOOM. It will get you. If it's enough to get abrupt notice from me, it's potent as all get out. It hit me on the first shot, with subsequent bites not nearly as powerful. Not sure if it's the jalapenos or chile powder or what - it's not a distinct enough of a heat to attribute the sauce, it's just plain HOT.

But yeah - that was a few hours ago at time at time of writing. And I'd be danged if my sinuses don't feel 100% better. Your mileage may vary.

Sandy and I devoured on crackers as a dip, but I think this would be good on most anything. Our dinner tonight was shrimp and cheese raviolis - that would have worked. Eggs, chicken, other noodle dishes, rice, dips, in a wrap - yes to all of those. It needs to be a little more even to score higher, but as is, both Sandy and I are pretty happy to have dropped the $2 on the tub. Give it a try, it's nothing to sneeze at.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Almond Nog

Sonia's first words after taking a sip of this beverage: "WOW! I definitely like this better than regular egg nog."

If it's not obvious already, I'll go ahead and tell you she's not a true lover of traditional egg nog, while I most definitely am.

My first words after trying this drink: "Hmm. Yeah. I definitely don't like this as much as normal egg nog."

They should have called this Trader Joe's *Almost* Nog. Only two letters' difference. 

Surprisingly though, I didn't hate it—but it's absolutely within the realm of possibility that other egg nog connoisseurs won't even tolerate this almond-based nogoff.

Now I'm fine with almond milk in place of dairy. Flavored almond milk? Sometimes it works in my opinion, and sometimes it doesn't. Sonia and I were similarly divided when it came to last year's pumpkin spice almond beverage, with the wife giving it a solid thumbs up, and me, not so much.

I'm not nearly as enthused about egg nog-flavored things as I am about egg nog itself. Even egg nog ice cream pales in comparison to the real deal in my book.

Here, we have not a true alternative to egg nog, but a beverage that is merely egg nog-flavored. I mean, for vegans, the lactose-intolerant, and people with egg allergies, this must be a dream come true. For the rest of us...meh.

The texture is far too thin to compare with traditional nog. If you look at the picture, you'll see the myriad tiny bubbles that result when you "shake well" as per the instructions on the carton. It's just a tad thicker than water. Flavor-wise, it's distinctly egg noggish, but with a greater level of nuttiness, and less of...pretty much everything else. I think they could have stepped up the spice game a notch here, which would have not only offered a bolder flavor, but perhaps masked what I perceive to be other slight weaknesses in the taste department. Of course, if one were so inclined, he could add his own spices...not to mention other additives of the "spirited" variety that might help cover up said shortcomings of this seasonal potation.

And to those of you who think we're jumping the Christmas season gun by reviewing this overtly Yuletidey product before Thanksgiving, I'll just say this: I associate egg nog not only with Christmas, but also with Thanksgiving. Sure, the whole Christmas thing encroaches on earlier months more and more each year it seems. I mean, we did a bit of Black Friday shopping this year a full two weeks before Black Friday, because now there are "pre-Black Friday sales," which promise great deals with only a fraction of the physical confrontations and full-contact shopping experience. But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that we're trying to give you our opinions now so that you'll be informed before you make those holiday TJ's runs.

Just for kicks and giggles, I compared the nutrition info of this product to a carton of actual egg nog. Yeah. Ordinary nog has nearly four times the calories and six times the fat. So...there's that to consider.

Sonia gives this almond nog four stars. I'm torn between two and a half and three—but I'll go with three for the benefit of those who cannot or will not enjoy actual egg nog this holiday season. It's absolutely worth a try if you're not into milk, eggs, the thick texture of traditional nog, excessive fat and calories, or the joys of seasonal obesity.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing

As any TJ's fan worth their Hawaiian shirt knows by now, cauliflower can do a lot of stuff. The real question is, can cauliflower do stuffing?

Well, guess we're gonna find out with Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing.

There's a lot to like about the concept here. Gluten free, vegan, no carbs for all you cave people out there. That's not an insult, I dabble with the Paleo diet here and there. But, when November rolls around, with Thanksgiving on the horizon, there's something to be said for good ol' traditional stuffing, whatever that means to you and your memories.

And there's something just a little amiss here with the TJ's cauli-stuffin'. It's hard to pin down completely what it is, but both Sandy and I noticed it.

Our best guess is, the stuff doesn't taste or feel like stuffing. It's...almost more like a pilaf. The cauliflower rice never loses its inherent ricey-ness and feels grainy, not soft and warm and inviting like stuffing. That being said, there's a lot to like. The product really tries hard to replicate traditional stuffing tastewise, and it almost pulls it off. The carrots, celery, and onion are on point, and there's copious handfuls of tart dried cranberries that make an excellent little touch - better than raisins or apples.

Still, it's off...and again I point to the cauliflower. Perhaps cauliflower has a "cleaner" taste than most bread, so all the flavors that are normally somewhat tempered poke through just a wee bit more. That seemed most noticeable with the onions. Also, look at the ingredient list and some unusual suspects. Tomato paste? Maple syrup? Never seen those in a stuffing recipe before. And they're not particularly noticeable, per se, but maybe they knock the flavor just off kilter enough.

This stuffing's decent enough, though. If you want an alternative to the usual salty carb bomb that is traditional stuffing, by all means, go for it. No denying it's healthier and more nutritious and all that - I mean, it's all veggies - and it's almost as good as the "real deal." But there's too much comfort vibe missing here. I think that's what it comes down to. It's only a few bucks in the freezer section, if you're lucky enough to find it - been a hot seller from what I hear - so I'd love to hear some more takes if you've tried it. But for me and Sandy, we just can't muster much enthusiasm.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Apple Banana Fruit Sauce Crushers

Sonia and I are thinking about having kids now that we know these little apple sauce pouches exist. We've been debating the pros and cons of procreating ever since we got married 8 years ago, and the debate always came down to:  "But think of how awful it will be when we pack our kid's lunch for school and we stick a little plastic cup of apple sauce in next to Johnny's sandwich and then we forget to put a spoon in the bag. He'll be taunted by his classmates ruthlessly—scarred for life, looking back on the day he had apple sauce smeared all over his face while striving in vain to lick the remaining sauce out of the cup with only his tongue."

"Also, I don't want to bring anyone into a world where apple banana sauce isn't a thing," Sonia would often interject as a closing thought to the conversation.

"Right, then it's settled," I'd say, as we'd both proceed to go about our child-free lives with clear consciences.

But of course this product shoots holes all through that argument. I mean, there's still the "I don't want my kids to grow up in a post-World War Three apocalyptic nuclear wasteland" argument, but that scenario has always seemed far-fetched compared to the "cup of apple sauce, no spoon" one.

Recently, I've seen these little squeezable apple sauce pouches everywhere. I guess it started with GoGo squeeZ, but now everybody and his brother has their own version—including, of course, Trader Joe. Just to be clear, we'll be reviewing the Trader Joe's version today—in case you didn't catch on to the theme of this blog...and all of our previous 1,030 reviews.

And honestly, this is the first squeezable apple sauce product I've ever tried, of any brand. So I won't really be able to compare it to any of the leading brands. I'm sure they're all quite similar. But I must point out at this juncture that this one is not only gluten-free (did anyone assume otherwise?) but organic and vegan as well. Eat your heart out, Amazon-owned Whole Foods stores with suddenly semi-reasonable prices.

These TJ's "crushers" are $2.69 for four, by the way. Not bad, considering how much packaging there is here. I know, I know, we're sacrificing a bit of "greenness" and cash for the sake of convenience—and the self-esteem of countless grade school children nation-wide.

Flavor-wise, it's a beautiful balance of bananas and apples, with apple shining through just slightly more prominently than its counterpart. I think I rather prefer the taste of this to plain apple sauce. Texture-wise, it's ever so slightly thicker than traditional apple sauce, by virtue of the pureed bananas. The pouch, with its little nozzle at one end, functions very well, and if you work at it for a minute, you can quite satisfactorily squeeze every last drop of the sauce out from the bag. Delightfully practical.

These would make great travel snacks for anyone, not just kids. They'd be great for hiking, camping, or even driving to work. We very well may purchase these again. There are a couple other flavors: Apple, Apple Strawberry, and Apple Carrot—any or all of which we may give a try.

Four stars from me, four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Nothing But Fruit & Nuts - Date - Hazelnut - Cacao

Busy busy busy. Bizzy. Biz-zay. Bizzybizzybiz.

No matter how you say it, or spell it, that's what we are.

There's the normal everyday grind of errands, jobs, and chores. Then whenever we all have the day off together, we try to have a family fun day. In a span of less than a week not too long ago, Sandy and I took the kids to Idlewild amusement park, the zoo, the science center, and the pool. That'd be a whole month, if not full summer, of activites for me growing up. Here's to reasonably priced family memberships! Sandy and I also finally had a little weekend to ourselves not long ago either, where we packed as much as we could into about two days in NYC - a show, a ballgame, the Met, Times Square, and all sorts of touristy crap like Ripley's Museum.

So busy....we're kinda in need of a TJ's run. Supplies are low.

Fortunately for all aspects of our busy lives (and fortunately Nathan chose another flavor for his review), Sandy picked up a sack of Trader Joe's Nothing But Fruit & Nuts - Date - Hazelnut - Cacao. I'm really not sure if that's the official name of these guys, but no other way seems quite right.

At least I am very sure of the ingredients. Dates, hazelnuts, and cacao - that's all there is, there ain't no mo'. They come all formed together in a medium sized disc, individually wrapped. If you're familiar with date-based Larabars, there's some similarities but also a key difference or two. First, I think there's an even higher percentage of dates in each TJ's nutty cacao date cake thing. I say that because the date flavor seems a little stronger - if you don't like dates, you have no chance of liking these - but also there's a textural difference. The TJ's are a touch tougher as well - perhaps dried a bit more? Not sure. They're still plenty easy to bite through, but it was a changeup from the usual Larabar softness I'm more accustomed to.

There's not an abundance of hazelnuts, but there is enough cacao/cocoa/chocolate flavor slipping in to hit a good chocolate spot. The richness of flavor though seems to come mainly from the dates, however, which isn't a bad thing. The snacks are easily portable and filling making an ideal on-the-go energy boost. All. That. Fiber. With, um, all the effects as well, FYI.

It's $3.99 for the eight discs. While I get I could probably make more of my own for a similar price point, I for one don't mind paying a small premium for convenience. I've made similar stuff to these, and it takes some time, and I think I burned out a food processor motor once. Time is money.

Both Sandy and I like them, and they're be sure to be one of our go-to on-the-go get-up-and-goers for go-time. Go!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Nothing But Fruit & Nuts - Date - Hazelnut - Cacao: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Riced Broccoli

I don't really have a whole lot to say about this product, since it's nothing but broccoli—and my feelings about it are very similar to my feelings about traditional broccoli. I don't hate broccoli. Never did. But I've never loved it either. It needs a little "help," if you know what I'm saying. 

A little butter, salt, and pepper really add a lot to the flavor of this product. Or, if you're trying to avoid sodium, a few shakes of the 21 Seasoning Salute can also be a big help. On the other hand, if you're not really watching what you eat, but you still want some "greens" in your diet, this product is delectable when served with melted cheese, much like traditional broccoli.

You may remember the previously-reviewed Organic Riced Cauliflower. We tried it around the same time the Shelly family reviewed it, and it's become a repeat-purchase in our household ever since—whenever it's not sold out at the local Trader Joe's, that is. Cauliflower works shockingly well as a rice substitute. And it seems to work without adding much to it. We usually cook it up in a little olive oil, and that's really all that's needed to make it a very palatable side dish. For Sonia and I, this broccoli didn't work quite as well just by itself. Plus, it might just be some silly subliminal, psychological thing, but it's a lot easier to pass a vegetable off as "rice" when it's white, rather than green.

While chatting with Marvo from The Impulsive Buy one evening, he asked us, "What do you think Trader Joe's will 'rice' next? Beets?" He noted that TJ's likes to do interesting stuff with beets. (See: chips and juice). Sonia suggested something at the time, but she can't remember what she said. Jicama, maybe? Personally, my money is on parsnips or turnips. I'd like to see them rice up one of those. How about you guys? Let us know in the comments below.

Sonia gives this riced broccoli three stars. I give it three and a half. It could be a really slick way to sneak some extra veggies into that Thanksgiving meal you're about to have.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy

"Ugh! Why does it have to be pumpkin spice everything!?!?!"

Believe it or not, that wasn't me who uttered that the other morning. No, it was M, my four year old, when I gave her the rundown of her breakfast options. Pumpkin O's. Pumpkin poptarts. Or a pumpkin muffin (not those, but close enough). Quite obviously, Sandy had done the last grocery shopping trip.

I have rarely been prouder as a papa.

Maple. It's one of the great flavors of fall, and it's so underrated. I think it's because all too many people equate "maple" as the "breakfast syrup" you see on shelves year round. Ummm....no. Real, authentic maple has a little of a premium attached to it because it's not the most efficient treat to make, but in my opinion, God and nature has made no finer natural, rich and sugary, divinely inspired nectar than unadulterated maple.

So it stands to reason that Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy ought to be knock-out-of-park good. In case you haven't read "Little House In the Big Woods" 37 times like my wife and don't have the maple sugaring chapter(s) memorized, maple sugar is derived from boiling sap past the syrup point to where nearly all the liquid is dried up, leaving clumps of natural sugar solids. It's firm enough to be able to mold into different shapes, in this case little cute leaves.

This small bites are pretty representative of the maple sugar candy genre. There's a slightly firm crystallized feel that quickly melts away into smooth-yet-granuley, buttery soft spread. Enjoy that. Let it linger for a while, and run your tongue all over and slather up every last bit...mmmm....maple....these are treats meant to be enjoyed and savored. As I am one prone to gulp down most anything without much thought, Sandy probably is going to check my temperature after that statement. But it's true.

These candies are deeply rich, superbly maple, and easily satisfy with just one or two, despite their small size. I mean, they're only seven grams each...but only five of those grams are sugar...what's the other two, tree magic? I don't know.

Pair with a hot beverage. Sneak some on an autumn treat tray. Hide some away for yourself when you need a "me" moment.

The small sleeve of four cost $1.99 near the checkouts, which, all things considered, isn't a horrible price to pay. We enjoyed them as a family after-dinner treat and no one had any complaints, and the only one of us to give a less than perfect score was B, my not-quite-two year old, who was probably only trying to be her characteristically silly, difficult self. Really, no complaints, Take a seat, pumpkin spice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Maple Sugar Candy: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Spice Almond Beverage

From the moment Sonia saw this product on Instagram, she was swooning. On her next TJ's run, she searched high and low, but could not find this enigmatic beverage in our favorite Marlton, New Jersey store. She asked an employee if they had it hidden in the stockroom or if they'd be getting a shipment of it soon. The Trader Joe's employee was friendly and polite, as they almost always are, but he replied something along the lines of, "No, people on the east coast don't like gross stuff like that." Actually, his reply wasn't anything like that. However, he did say it was only available on the west coast. We'd heard that before. Remember the Parsnip Chips?

In that case, we just waited like a week, and voila, they were suddenly available on the east coast as well. In talking with Russ, we discovered that just several days after we were told this product was only available on the west coast, it was suddenly available in Pittsburgh. Now unless there was some pretty significant seismic activity that somehow eluded the evening news and shifted The Steel City 2500 miles closer to the Pacific Ocean, there's absolutely no way you could say Pittsburgh is on the west coast. So Sonia still had hope.

Sure enough, a day or two later, this beverage popped up on shelves here in Jersey. Sonia snagged a carton, and soon we were both sipping pumpkin spice flavored almond milk. A happy ending, right? Well...

Sonia and I haven't disagreed this strongly on a product in quite a while. She enjoyed it thoroughly. I did not. You all know I'm down with pumpkin and pumpkin spice stuff for a limited time each year between mid-September and late December, right? And I've always liked plain or vanilla almond milk just fine. But this stuff didn't quite work for me somehow. It's not nearly as sweet and sugary as it needs to be to succeed as a desserty kind of drink. Yet it's not simple and nutty like the regular stuff.

At first, you can taste the pumpkin spices in spades. For a moment, it's almost enjoyable. But then, as the flavor rolls over your tongue, there's a bit of a weird chemical kind of vibe. And I'm not a huge fan of the slight aftertaste, either. The texture is fine—very similar to other almond beverages—but possibly a little bit thicker in this case. To me, the overall essence of this product is that of an unsweetened pumpkin spice coffee creamer, not designed to be a stand-alone beverage. But that's just me.

Sonia thinks it's silky, smooth, and just about right in every way. She likes the flavor just fine and is happy to chug the beverage straight out of the carton, although she does concede that it makes sense to use it as a coffee creamer even more than a drink all by itself. Four stars from her.

Two from me.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.