Trader Joe's Pumpkin Macarons

If you're willing to spend $5 for 12 bites of unadulterated scrumptiousness, buy these.

Despite our affinity for most things pumpkinny, Sonia and I bought these with a degree of skepticism and wariness. Even though pumpkin has a lot of potential, it's really easy to screw it up. Pumpkin ice cream, beer, cookies, cheesecake, pie, pancakes, muffins, or souffle...any of it can go either way, depending upon the brand, the freshness, and the seasonal availability of quality ingredients.

Incidentally, these macarons are FREAKING AWESOME. Unless you HATE pumpkin-flavored things, you must try these. As Sonia put it, "It's like eating sweet whipped pumpkin clouds straight out of heaven." Immediately after removing them from our freezer, we each tried one frozen, and were fairly impressed. We were tempted to wolf down the entire tray before they were thawed. But in a rare instance of heroic self-discipline, we waited, cleverly distracting one another with tales of edible pumpkin-things from our childhood, and we managed to kill the entire 30 minutes until full-thawage had occurred, at which point, I ate another one. It had all the fluffy, creamy, deliciousness of the first one, yet the relative warmth of the pastry allowed the immaculate flavors to permeate my palate fully and bathe me in a sea of refreshing pumpkin ecstasy.

I've never claimed to avoid melodrama. In fact, I find it an important alternative to old-fashioned restraint on certain occasions. This is one of them. These pastries are soft, gluten-free, they melt in your mouth, they're creamy, and they have the perfect balance of sweetness and pumpkin spices. I'm madly in love with them. I have nothing negative to say about them. This dessert has once again reaffirmed that age-old assertion that vegetables can make flippin' amazing sweet treats, in spite of their healthful vegetability.

Sonia gives them five out of five stars. I give them five as well. Boom. There it is. Sonia and my first perfect score in a year and a half.

Bottom line: 10 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Golden Caramel Swirl Ice Cream

Imagine you bought a pepperoni pizza, and when it came time to eat said pizza, you realized there was only one solitary slice of pepperoni on the whole pie. How would you feel? Would it matter how good the melty mozzarella, how perfectly zesty the sauce, how delectably delicious the crust? Would it matter that, technically speaking, your purchase is a pepperoni pizza, as it is a pizza with pepperoni on it, just not as much as expected? I mean, when I worked at various pizza shops, there were standards for a large pepperoni pizza, namely, four in the middle, nine in the middle ring, and sixteen on the outer. Hooray for progressions of squared numbers!  Going back to our thought exercise, how long would your battle with your buddy/spouse/significant other/dog/other personality be over who gets the pepperoni and who doesn't? Namely, how cheated would you feel, and ultimately, what would be your opinion of your purchase?

I bring this all up in relation to Trader Joe's Golden Caramel Swirl Ice Cream because it's very relevant. At the very least, in our own purchase, there was no golden caramel swirl in the Golden Caramel Swirl. None. No swirl. At all. Zip. Nada. And I refuse to believe that, against all odds, the one that I, one of the galaxy's foremost amateur hack reviewers of all things Trader Joe's, just so happened to snag would be the only carton in existence nearly completely devoid of any caramel.

Notice I said nearly completely devoid. To be fair, my taste buds sensed caramel while consuming this particular ice cream....on only about two or three of roughly 100 bites I spooned myself. That's maybe what Sandy got, too, out of the whole carton, so it's not like there's some hidden mega caramel vein just waiting to be tapped. There's only three logical explanations I can think of for this: 1. We're idiots and don't know what we're talking about. While always possible, I sincerely doubt it in this case, considering we've reviewed the Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce this particular dessert claims to contain. Barely there. 2. Both the chocolate and French vanilla ice creams are way too rich and vibrant for a flavor like caramel to really shine through, so it's there but way too subtle. Eh, maybe, but then again, probably not. 3. It just ain't there. Now you're talking.

Anyways...aside from the whole "for all intents and purposes, there's really no caramel in the Golden Caramel Swirl ice cream" snafu, it's actually good ice cream. The French vanilla is impeccable, and darn if it isn't some good, rich, tasty chocolate. But that goes back to the opening pepperoni pizza analogy - doesn't matter how good the rest of it is if what's supposed to be there isn't. The little write-up on the side of the package prattles on about this being some sort of "gold medal candidate" or some silly Olympic-ish verbiage. Well, in my book the abject absence of the caramel is pretty much an automatic disqualifier, and let's not even get the East German judge started. Ice cream seems to be something that's a hit or miss for TJ's, and this is a definite miss. Sandy's gonna be nice and, while noting it could use something like some crunchy ice cream cone bits, give it a 2.5 despite its major fault. Me? Sorry. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Golden Caramel Swirl Ice Cream: 3.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 72% Cacao Dark Chocolate

I guess this review is kind of a cop-out, because everybody knows what chocolate tastes like. Everybody knows what dark chocolate tastes like, too. I would describe it as milk chocolate, but a little more bitter.

Now, we could get into wine critic-esque language involving "flinty undertones" and "hints of earthiness," but that would be pretentious. This is an "everyman's" kind of blog. Russ and I are indeed everymen. And I suppose, by association, that would make Sandy and Sonia everywomen. And along those lines, I do think this is a chocolate bar that everyone can enjoy, even those who've never had anything other than Hershey's.

I'm not a particularly huge fan of dark chocolate. I like white chocolate and milk chocolate because I have a sweet tooth. Indeed, I must have at least several sweet teeth. However, on occasion, I do enjoy the richness of dark chocolate, so long as I am not in the middle of one of my sugar-craving fits. Sugar is still the second ingredient in this chocolate bar, as you can tell from the photo on the right, but the sweetness doesn't overpower the cacao in dark chocolate—and this bar is no exception.

According to this Wikipedia article, a product must have at least 35% cocoa solids in order to qualify as dark chocolate. The 70 - 99% range is generally used for baking purposes. So, in the grand scheme of things, this chocolate is pretty darn dark. I was expecting it to be quite bitter, but both Sonia and I agree that it was surprisingly delicious and palatable. (Sonia usually does like dark chocolate, so it's not as big a surprise that she was a fan).

We're not often in the habit of just buying random chocolate bars, unless Russ and Sandy highly recommend something from TJ's, such as this little gem you might find at the checkout. But in this case, we received these at a lovely wedding we recently attended. Each bar was wrapped in a beautifully-designed candy wrapper created by the bride. We snagged a few as wedding favors and ate them in the days after the wedding. Thanks K & J!

Sonia will give this bar a 4. I'll give it a 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Coconut Mango Bites

Finally, folks, here we go. This may not be a good thing to admit, but it's been a while since I've spotted something new at Trader Joe's that I was even remotely excited about. Instead, most of our purchases recently have been the same old usual thing....the same dinner-time staple....the same frozen lunches...the same this and the same that. While all these are legitimately good products, once you've had them a few times, well, they're not that exciting any more. It even got to the point where, for a lunch mix-up, I went ahead and bought myself some Chef-in-a-can recently. Desperate times, desperate measures.

But then, there's these, Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Coconut Mango Bites. More than cheap prices and a slew of healthy products, it's these kinda things that keep TJ's up and running. Take a combo that sounds just zany enough that it just might work, and put it in sight of someone like me who not only hasn't found a dark chocolate combo he hasn't liked, but has a healthy affinity for almost anything mango-related, and oh yeah, we're in business. Provided that they taste good, of course.

And yup, these choco-coconutted mango confections are pretty good. I'm sure, given the main ingredients, one can make the argument that they taste down right tropical. It's turning to fall in Pittsburgh and there's a legitimate chance we won't see the sun 'til late April, so I fully appreciate that. Really, I'd say these candy bites taste like a good Mounds bar, except a tinge or three sweeter in the filling. Inside each bite, if I had to guess, the orangey middle is probably composed of 70% coconut and 30% mango, and it's all kinda mixed up. If the mango elements were too strong or sweet, it'd throw everything off, but it's all kept in check by the dark chocolate coating. Each bite is about two nibbles big so there's plenty to chew on for some satisfaction, although I have a gut feeling these won't be lasting long around the house.

Sandy already had the bag ripped open when I came home from work. "These are gooood," she said. I could tell by her look and her tone there wasn't much more she'd need to say about them. After I had my first bite or two, yeah, that's a perfectly adequate way to describe 'em. Not perfect, but goooood indeed.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Coconut Mango Bites: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey you, don't forget to help support me in my Bike MS event for a chance to toss in your two cents on our blog! Every $5 you give puts one entry in a drawing for you to nominate something for me to review, and if you drop me a few lines about it, I'll get it included in my review! Contest ends on 9/22 with the winner being announced on Facebook on 9/24. To give, hit up this link and click on "Donate to Participant" under the thermometer-type thing. Thanks, and here's to world free of multiple sclerosis!

Trader Joe's Wasabi Roasted Seaweed Snack

At times, I've gone out for sushi just because I had a craving for wasabi. And sushi was the only socially-acceptable thing I could think of to eat with it. I don't mess with those ginger leaves, I just put a nice little dollop of wasabi on each slice of my spicy tuna roll and go to town, using chopsticks, of course.

I realize I could buy wasabi, keep it in my fridge, and try it on everything from ham sandwiches to pizza, but somehow I think most of those experiments would fail. It might succeed on certain Asian-inspired dishes, but having it in my fridge would take some of the specialness away from it. Wasabi peas are fun, exotic snacks to munch on from time to time (I'm pretty sure the first time I saw them was at Trader Joe's) but the novelty wears off quickly and I tire of their taste after just one bag or so.

Enter Trader Joe's Wasabi Roasted Seaweed Snack. Many moons ago, we reviewed Trader Joe's Original Roasted Seaweed Snack. This stuff is basically the same thing—but wasabified. And they didn't skimp on the wasabi. These snack sheets of seaweed have a nice, sinus-clearing kick. Wrap up some rice for a delicious and unique (yet simple and cheap) meal. They're vegan and they're gluten-free. They're salty and they're spicy. With or without something wrapped up inside them, they make a wonderful break from the norm.

At 60 calories per package they won't wreck your diet, either. And I'm willing to bet wasabi raises your metabolism, too. Sonia isn't a huge fan of wasabi. It's a far cry from the Mexican chile-based spices she's used to. The plain seaweed snack got 4 stars from each of us. Sonia will knock this version half a star down, and I'll bump it half a star up. But it will still wind up with the same score:

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Gum's The Word Sugar Free Gum

Okay, I'll admit it, I was fooled. This looks like a Trader Joe's product, is packaged like a Trader Joe's product, and has the classic value of a Trader Joe's product (24 pieces for 99 cents? Nice!). Indeed, the only place I have ever seen this sold is at a Trader Joe's, right by the checkout, in fact. However, Gum's The Word is not labelled as a Trader Joe's product, so....I'm guessing it's not really a Trader Joe's product. Fortunately there's a precedent or two...or three...for these kinda situations on the blog, and since a) these are sold at Trader Joe's b) I can chew enough gum to give Violet Beauregarde a run for her money and c) I didn't notice this wasn't a TJ's product 'til literally about 30 seconds ago, well, I'm reviewing it and you can't do anything about it. Them's the rules.

And, well, I'm kinda glad it isn't a TJ's product, because it isn't all that great. The chief issues with the chewy chomping Chiclet wannabes is, they start off so incredibly minty that my sinuses would be cleared (which I kinda like) but within literally two minutes there's no flavor left at all (which I don't like at all). Seriously, goes from actually too much peppermint to none at all in no time flat with no happy medium. It's kinda like a sprinter who exerts too much effort from the start line to save anything for the finish line. There's another colloquialism or two I could use, but this is a family website. At least it's about the right consistency that would incline me to keep chewing if any it had more flavor that lasted any respectable amount of time. Other than that and the aforementioned value, meh. There's also a spearmint incarnation, which I doubt I'd like much better, as peppermint is usually higher up in the flavor hierarchy for me.

Sandy isn't as generally gung ho about gum as I am. She chews it occasionally on road trips but that's about it. "Meh, it's gum, and that's about it," she said. Yeah, at the end of the day, that's pretty much all that can be said. It's gum at a good price, with a cool package design and a name that tangentially reminds me of one of the most annoying Family Guy episodes ever. That doesn't mean it tastes great.

Bottom line: Gum's The Word Sugar Free Gum: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey you, don't forget to help support me in my Bike MS event for a chance to toss in your two cents on our blog! Every $5 you give puts one entry in a drawing for you to nominate something for me to review, and if you drop me a few lines about it, I'll get it included in my review! Contest ends on 9/22 with the winner being announced on Facebook on 9/24. To give, hit up this link and click on "Donate to Participant" under the thermometer-type thing. Thanks, and here's to world free of multiple sclerosis!

Trader Joe's Spinach & Kale Pie

If you're a fan of Trader Joe's Spinach and Kale Greek Yogurt Dip, and were ever like "Dude, I really wish I could eat something like this in a pie," guess what? Your prayers have been answered.

Although, I really wonder if the word pie was the best choice in this case. "Pastry" would seem to be slightly more accurate to me, but I've petitioned for that coveted Trader Joe's product-naming position repeatedly over the past few years and have yet to receive a response, so what do I know?

At any rate, this item turns out pretty well when cooked in the oven. It's extraordinarily flaky. Like, explosively flaky. Little bits of the crust wound up all over the table and floor as I crunched away each piece with my fork. But I was pleased with the taste. The crust was lightly buttery and croissant-like, flavor-wise.

The filling was very similar to the aforementioned spinach dip. And as was the case with the spinach dip, I definitely tasted spinach, but I really couldn't tell you if I tasted kale. Even after multiple dishes containing kale, I'm still not really sure if I know what it tastes like. That could be partly due to its blandness (but let's be kind and use the term "subtle flavor" instead). Or it may be due to the fact that kale and spinach are so similar in texture, flavor, and color, that it's completely pointless to put both of them into the same food together, except maybe to add a bit of exoticness to the name of the product. The only major difference between the spinach dip and the filling of this pastry is the absence of Greek yogurt in the latter.

With or without yogurt, spinach and kale would seem to be a healthy food choice. For a diet like mine, it might be a step in the right direction for the green roughage alone, but this particular item is chock full of sodium and saturated fat. The pie is pretty large, but not so large that a normal serving size is 1/6 of it. 1/4 of the pie seems a more realistic serving size to me, but you know how mathematically-creative people can be when drawing up the numbers for that Nutrition Facts column.

I think it's worthy of three stars. Sonia's going with three and a half on this one. Not bad.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's Petite Cocoa Batons

In honor of this particular petite product, I'm going to write only a petite (by my standards) review of Trader Joe's Petite Cocoa Batons. No tangential ramblings. No lengthy sidebars. No nothing but my straightforward opinion about the product at hand. Okay, here we go. 

Actually, that's just a polite way to say that there's nothing much to say about these mini choco-sticks. Well, to call them a stick, much less a baton, is a bit of an overstatement. To me, a baton is something able to be twirled about by a color guard member in a parade, and a stick is something I should poke my sister with. These, friends, are neither. Call them a teeny roll or micro-wonton, but don't call them a baton, because the only place these will be twirled with the all the freedom afforded by being baton is in your mouth or tummy because they're so small, like a quarter by half an inch, maybe. You can't even swish your coffee with these guys. It's not a baton. 

But they are petite, and they're certainly full of cocoa, but again, that's about all I can say. Imagine a wafery Cocoa Puff with a kinda creamy center, and that's about what these are. They're light, airy, and crispy, with a lil' dollop in the middle, and that's about it. If hungry, I could probably eat the whole box and not be remotely satisfied. After just a few of them, the taste doesn't do all that much for me, anyways. They're actually kinda boring. I suppose they could be a nice companion for that aforementioned cup of coffee as part of your a petit dejeuner, but other than that, I feel a little silly just munching on them as I sit on my couch writing this review. 

Anyways, Sandy likes 'em, with the disclaimer she'd prefer they sided more towards gran than petit. Me too. I'd imagine at least then there'd be something more we could do with these choco-batons than just munch them on down. Overall, they're probably not a repeat purchase unless when Baby M gets a little older and we want to give her a mini treat for doing something good....eh....they'll probably be discontinued by then anyways, which begs the question of why on God's green earth these or these are still available. Anyways, however you want to split our score below between Sandy and me, you're probably right.

 
Bottom line: Trader Joe's Petite Cocoa Batons: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Spinach & Kale Greek Yogurt Dip

I've mentioned before that we like to use yogurt instead of sour cream as a topping for baked potatoes and things. I think it tastes just as good, and it's a great way to leave out some unnecessary calories and fat. This dip applies the same principle. Some low-fat yogurt makes a great base for a snack dip without losing much flavor. We didn't see a non-reduced-guilt version of this product in the store, and we both agree they don't really need to market one.

As far as the "spinach and kale" aspect of it, it's rather tasty. Of course, neither Sonia nor I could tell you what exactly kale is supposed to taste like. I'm pretty sure it's seaweed... Oh that's right, we did have it once before. But even so, I'm gonna go ahead and say that you could just leave the kale out of the ingredients and very few people would notice the difference. Spinach would have done just fine. Although, "spinach and kale dip" sounds far more exotic and worthy of a purchase to easily-impressed consumers like me.

And Greek yogurt is certainly having its day in the sun. What with Fage, Oikos, and Yoplait pushing their Greek style products as the next healthy snack food craze—and even companies like Ben and Jerry's getting in on the action, it's no wonder TJ's is pumping out a few Greek yogurt type products. I myself have mixed feelings about the stuff. I have to assess it on a product-by-product basis, and in this case, it's a thumbs up.

We ate it with crackers and mini-pitas. It worked well with both, and we're quite certain the list of valid pairings could fill multiple paragraphs of this blog post, but we'll just let you use your own imaginations. If you've tried anything unusual with this dip, please let us know in the comments below. (Keep it food-related. What you and your partner do with dip behind closed doors is your business and no one else's.)

All in all, it's very creamy and a little spinachy, with a hint of spices and zestiness. I would liken it to a cold version of a good restaurant-style spinach dip. It's really yummy, if you like that sort of thing. Fortunately for this product, both Sonia and I do. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's Strawberry Non-Dairy Frozen Dessert

I hate to start things off with a semi-non-related gripe, but, well, it's my blog post and you can't stop me. Last week the night before my birthday, all I wanted to do was go out to Rita's with Sandy, Baby M, and our trusty mutt (he usually gets a dish of vanilla ice cream on the house there!). Anyways, I had to work a little late, come home home, make dinner, eat dinner, and deal with the usual little delays that come with having a not-quite two month old baby. Despite all that, we got to Rita's at 9:55pm. That shouldn't have been a problem, as that location closes at 10, but...as we parked right in front, maybe three spaces aways, within easy eye shot, the lil snot-faced teenie bopper running the joint snapped the window closed and closed the blinders and turned off the light. Granted, we were the jerks showing up 5 minutes before closing time...but it was 5 minutes before closing time. Take the 30 seconds to scoop me and my wife some Italian ice, and my dog a dish of ice cream, and make us happy. Heck, I'd even be inclined at that point to not use the BOGO coupon I had in my wallet. Jerks.

Anyways, we had to settle for a not-nearly-as-good Squishee from the gas station next door. And I'm not saying that I'll never go to Rita's again, because that's just a bold-faced lie. But between that experience, and Sandy apparently having to be mindful of dairy intake because Baby M seems to be a lil' sensitive about it, we're going to try and see what other frozen non-dairy delights we can find.

That search brought us to Trader Joe's, more specifically to Trader Joe's Strawberry Non-Dairy Frozen Dessert. It's just like ice cream, minus the whole "cream" part, at least as it pertains to moo cows. Instead, it's made from coconut milk, and in fact is completely vegan. For the record, it's also gluten-free. And you know what? It's absolutely delicious, to the point that I can't believe we didn't finish the pint in one sitting. The strawberry flavor is so full and rich that it tasted like a bowl of frozen mashed strawberries, except smooth and creamy and without all the little seeds. Loved it, and I swear that, unlike most things, it tasted better with each bite. There's no such thing as the law of diminishing returns here. Initially surprisingly to me, it doesn't taste much like coconut, until I remembered that coconut milk doesn't necessarily taste a lot like coconut, and indeed there's no little flakes of it about. It's soft, sweet, and addicting. For a self proclaimed ice cream expert, I don't think there's a higher compliment.

Sandy and I plopped down on the couch the other night with the pint-sized carton and two spoons and went to town. As she was scooping up her first bite, Sandy exclaimed, "Oooooh, it's soft!...That means it's good!" And she was not lying at all. There's also a chocolate version of this dessert, which we haven't tried yet, but will be probably as soon as our next TJ's stop. In Sandy's mind, there's nothing that could possibly be any better about our strawberry ice non-cream, so she's going with a full-handed five. Me? I could choose to quibble some over the price (it was somewhere between four and five bucks, closer to five, I think) but, I figure, with a little self-control we can each get two desserts out of it, making it about half the price of going out somewhere (you listening to me, Rita's???...of course, if I find more coupons...). what I'd say, although, is some actual little strawberry bits would be welcome, but not absolutely necessary. It's not too often we have two pantheon entries in one week, but when we pick 'em, we pick 'em good.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Strawberry Non-Dairy Frozen Dessert: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey you, don't forget to help support me in my Bike MS event for a chance to toss in your two cents on our blog! Every $5 you give puts one entry in a drawing for you to nominate something for me to review, and if you drop me a few lines about t, I'll get it included in my review! Contest ends on 9/22 with the winner being announced on Facebook on 9/24. To give, hit up this link and click on "Donate to Participant" under the thermometer-type thing. Thanks, and here's to world free of multiple sclerosis!

Trader Joe's Soft-Baked Snickerdoodles

Back before I discovered Trader Joe's about 8 years ago, if someone would have tried to sell me on gluten-free, vegan snickerdoodles, I wouldn't have been even a little bit interested.

Even as it stands, I have mad respect for Trader Joe's, but stuff that says "Free of the 8 common allergens" is still a gamble, regardless of where it's from, in my opinion. I thoroughly disagree with the people who answer the question "What's Good at Trader Joe's?" with "everything." If that were true, this blog would be entirely unnecessary.

Be that as it may, if I had to put money on some brand—any brand—being capable of making something hypo-allergenic, relatively healthy, and really tasty, it would be on the Trader Joe's store brand. And whaddaya know? They did it again.

These things are amazing. They are truly soft, reminiscent of something freshly-baked, especially if you microwave them for a few seconds. Bursting with near-homemade pastry tastes and textures, the ingredients of these cookies seem almost unbelievable: sorghum flour, dates, grapes, and apple and pear juices are at the top of the list.

The cookies taste like cinnamon and brown sugar, with undertones of the aforementioned fruit juices. There's the tiniest bit of grittiness, but no more than a traditional snickerdoodle. These are an unbelievable find for anyone, especially those with food allergies. If you're gluten-intolerant, these could very well be the best thing in your cupboard since gluten-free sliced bread.

Sonia's even more enthused about them than I am. Another triumph for Trader Joe's and a must-try for people with sensitivities to wheat, milk, eggs, soy, or peanuts. Four and a half stars from me. Five stars from Sonia.


Bottom line 9.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's Pinachios

piz·zazz/pəˈzaz/

Noun: An attractive combination of vitality and glamour.

pa·nache/pəˈnaSH

Noun: 1. Flamboyant confidence of style or manner. 2. A tuft or plume of feathers, esp. as a headdress or on a helmet.

pis·tach·i·o/pəˈstaSHēˌō/

Noun: The edible pale green seed of an Asian tree.

Combine those three words together and that's how you get "Pinachio." Or so I assume. I wouldn't have figured the "pizzazz" part, but the side of the Trader Joe's Pinachio container tells me these cookies have that, and I guess something like "Pizznachio" just sounds a little bit too ridiculous.

Anyways, those a lot of words could use to describe these pistachioed-white chocolate-chipped cookies, but pizzazz and panache are not on the list. I mean, they're not bad, but despite their premise, they're just not all that fancy or particularly great either. Each cookie is mostly just that...cookie. As in, not pistachios or white chocolate, but kinda like the empty space between the stars. Just not a lot there. As a result, while present, there's not a lot of pistachios or white chocolate to taste. Also, this is my personal bias, but I don't like overly crunchy cookies nearly as much as soft semi-melty ones, and the Pinachios are some crunchy little buggers. For the record, they pair great with milk, but to me it's almost a necessity to help soften them up to make them enjoyable.

Sandy swears they softened up some over time. I'm not arguing or contradicting her, but let's just say my mouth's interpretation as to the rigidity and texture pertaining to crunchtitude of these said packaged goods differs from hers. We both agree there isn't all that much to them. "They don't have nearly as much pistachio flavor, as, say pistachio ice cream," Sandy said. "Hmm, these would have been great with ice cream...We should go get ice cream." Oh, twist my arm, sweetie. Anyways, somehow in my life I have managed to be blessed with a semi-regular influx of absolute killer white chocolate chip macadamia cookies, which I'd go for way over these. Just to show how indifferent Sandy and I were to them, after opening them, the container lasted a full week just sitting out on the kitchen table. If that's not an indication of "meh", I don't know what is.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pinachios: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Everything Bagel Chips

In case you were wondering, to my knowledge at least, Nathan and I really don't have any system whatsoever to determining what products we're going to review. I usually scan the shelves for anything new or interesting-sounding (or both), and if that fails, try to check our purchases against a mental inventory of what we have and haven't reviewed. It's not flawless by any stretch but it works often enough. The only possible weakness of it is, speaking solely for myself, since it's my money and my food (both are pretty darn important), with a notable exception or two, I tend to buy things I have a reasonable expectation of liking, so we can tend to be a little too positive. I think we might be some of the best press TJ's receives this side of the Fearless Flyer, and if someone can get me a job with that, I'm jumping ship.

I mention all that because it's not like Sandy and I bought Trader Joe's Everything Bagel Chips with the set intention of reviewing them. I mean, ho-hum, they're bagel chips, right? How much can one really say about a bag of bagel chips?

Well, this is me we're talking about. I can say a lot about them, but I'd rather be eating them. They're so good that I feel propelled to advise all of you to go purchase them, if for no other reason than to make a good faith effort to ensure they are never discontinued like too many tasty goodies we've reviewed, like the best. salad. ever. Aside from all the normal great attributes of bagel chips (crunchiness, high munchability), what really struck me on these is how fresh they taste. Maybe this doesn't make sense, and maybe I'm pulling this from my youknowwhat, but where other bagel chips taste distinctly toasted, these....don't. They taste just like a fresh bagel that magically crunchy-crispified itself. I don't know how to explain that. Just like any good everything bagel, these chps have plenty of garlic and onion flavor, with all the requisite seeds, and they even have a little butteriness to them. I wish I had a tub of cream cheese to dip them in.

Sandy likes them a fair amount. Bagel chips are her favorite part of Chex Mix, and she acknowledged that these are better than those (no kidding). "I just wish there were more in the bag," she said. "So we could eat more of them?" I asked. "Exactly." Me? I could eat these enough to make myself test positive for opium (that poppy seed deal? Completely legit, as proven by no less a scientific authority than Mythbusters) and not really care. Okay, that's an overstatement, but for bagel chips with a little bit of everything, they're tough to beat.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Everything Bagel Chips: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mini Blueberry Cheesecake Ice Cream Wedges

The packaging for this product claims that it's "an ice cream that thinks it's a cheesecake." Now where would ice cream get a silly idea like that? Maybe because you put the word "cheesecake" in the title of this product even before the words "ice cream," Trader Joe. I think you're largely to blame for this poor dessert's identity crisis. Is it a fruit? Is it ice cream? Is it cheesecake?

I think it may be all of the above. All at once. It seems paradoxical, but just in the same way that I am a son, a husband, and a friend all at the same time, this dessert may be multiple things at once. In both cases, it's kind of a beautiful mystery.

Of all the things that this product is, if there were one that I think it should try to be a little more, it would be blueberry. There are a few graceful swaths of a blueberry gel swimming through the frozen cheesecake, and right in the center of the dessert, there's a larger cache of sweet blueberry goodness, with perhaps a hint of actual blueberry. But Sonia and I both agree that the blueberry-ish center of the ice cream is the best part of the whole thing. We want more blueberry. It already has a fair amount of it. But we want more. We're both only children and we're used to getting our way.

It's creamy, it does taste like cheesecake, complete with a graham cracker crust, and it's frozen, with plenty of ice cream-ish properties, too. The only thing we weren't pleased with was the decision to place this product on a stick. In some cases, like this delicious snack, sticks are great. And there are plenty of successful frozen desserts on sticks like this one. But for some reason, both Sonia and I thought the sticks in these particular treats made the cheesecake taste just a bit like wood. Now, we may be nitpicking, but we both think these would have been better just served on a plate with a fork, a la traditional ice cream cake. They are a bit crumbly, so you might need a plate or a bowl to catch the mess anyway.

Considering how indulgent they taste, 100 calories per snack isn't that bad. Though they are quite small. I could probably have eaten the entire box of six in one sitting, though my sweet Sonia may have scolded me in that sassy Latin way that I love so much for doing so.

Because of the wooden taste, Sonia docked a few points, though overall, she agrees that these wedges are a win. 3.5 stars from Sonia. I think she's blowing the wooden thing a bit out of proportion. These sweet treats are unique and delicious, and I can't go lower than 4.5 stars.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Organic Orange Strawberry Banana Juice

It's pretty tough for me to imagine it, dear readers, but Sandy and I went over a month without going to Trader Joe's recently. Between being busy with a newborn and the incredible influx of homemade food from friends and family, in addition to the giant stock-up trip before, well, we just didn't have a need (much less the time or energy) to go at all, so we didn't. But that's not the amazing part to me. When we finally made our way back about a week ago for a few small supplies, like drinks and snacks (we hit up farmer's markets for meat, fruits and veggies, usually), after scouring the aisles for anything new and exciting, well, we kinda came up empty-handed. There just didn't seem to be anything new that we wanted to pick up. One would think that the sample station would help save that, but the drink was the green plant juice that we're not that move by one way or the other. The food sample? It was some new pulled pork something or other, and in a phrase I never thought I'd think and/or write, after friends twice dropped off a plethora of pulled pork, and my folks bringing some to town when they visited, I had eaten entirely too much pulled pork in the previous week to be interested in it whatsoever.

So, anyways, we settled for a juice I'd seen a couple times, Trader Joe's Organic Orange Strawberry Banana Juice. I've think I've written previously about my juice addiction, and I know Nathan's a sweet juice fiend, so it kinda baffles me that we haven't reviewed this yet, because it's pretty terrific. It seems to be a base of orange, apple and grape juice (what DON'T they put grape juice in these days?) with pureed strawberries and bananas mixed in. Or so they say. I mean, I can definitely taste them, but when I think pureed fruit, I think of the smoothies I've made and the little chunkies in there, and there's absolutely none of that in this smooth blend. It's sweet, smooth, clean and refreshing, and while delicious on its own, making smoothies or popsicles with the juice both seem like worthwhile causes, not to mention perhaps using it as a good mixer.

As usual with liquid refreshment, I'm a bigger fan of it than my beautiful wife. While not scolding me for drinking more than my fair share, Sandy's made a remark or two about it smelling like bubble gum, and said that she's pretty much in the middle about it, and gave it a 3.5. For me, I like how tasty it is, and like that it's organic so i can try and tell myself that it's even healthier than think it is, and so I feel less guilty as I guzzle it down. Good stuff. I'll slap it with a 4...nah, it helped save our maiden TJ voyage as a family of three...let's say 4.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Orange Strawberry Banana Juice: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Giotto's 'Spearean Risotto

My dear Giotto,

Bongiorno. It was nice to see you on your most recent visit to the U.S. of A. And we were happy to taste another one of your Italian dishes. But as a foodie-hack of sorts, I have to be honest—I'd really prefer pizza or pannacotta again next time you visit.

First of all, when I look at the picture you show on your bag, all I see are asparagus tips. But all I saw in my actual dish were the bottom parts of the asparaguses...or is it asparagi? And let's face it, the asparagus "butts" simply don't have the taste or texture of the top part—the "spear" that you so prominently feature in the title of your entree. So give us more top parts. I may not be good at math, but one would think that for every bottom part, there would be one top part. Where did those go? Did you use them all in the photo shoot for the art on the packaging? Did you eat them all yourself? Giotto... were we not gracious hosts? Why would you hold out on us like that?

Furthermore, they seemed unusually rubbery and stringy—even for the bottom parts. Overall, your dish lacked flavor. There's a bit of butteriness, but it's not enough. Your risotto was soft and your sauce creamy, but it tasted like I was eating something off of the "lite" menu. I know that we Americans are fat, but when we eat Italian, we expect a treat, Giotto! Mama mia!

And I must say that your rice dish would greatly benefit from a few more ingredients. Add different veggies, add sausage, or heck, add bacon! Adding almost anything would have helped hype this dish up a bit! Sonia fully shares my sentiments on this matter. Sure, we could add more stuff in ourselves, but you're the chef, Giotto. And furthermore, we're lazy.

It's not that we're ungrateful for the dish you cooked up for us. It's just that we know you can do better. After all, if your American cousin can make a good Sicilian Pizza, shouldn't a real Italian be able to nail an Italian dish? If we were going to score your risotto on a scale of one to ten gondoliers, we'd have to give it only cinque.

Your American pen pal,
Nathan

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Almondictive Bits

Context, I remember my middle school English teacher saying. Context. That's one of the best ways of trying to figure out what an unfamiliar word means. Read the other words around it and more times than not, it'll give you a good idea, and that exercises a couple more brain cells than running for the nearest Merriam-Webster's.

With that in mind, I stumbled across a new word for me during our latest Trader Joe's word: almondictive. Now I'm not above pulling a new word from where the sun don't shine (I think I once used the word "meatosaurus" in an article I wrote), so I don't necessarily mind that. At first glance, I was pretty sure it was a cute little combo of the words "almond" and "addictive", especially with the other words like "compulsively compelling"* on the package, but then a dark thought crossed my mind: What if instead of "addictive" they really meant the word "vindictive"? The "nd" in the middle there kinda derailed my thought train that way, not that there's anything I can think of that a chocolate-covered caramelized nut would have to be all angsty and vengeful about (certainly hopefully not me after I ate them). But I figured, just to be sure, Sandy and I would have to give them a try...with one eye open, of course.

Well, after a couple small handfuls of them, I'll vouch that they're definitely more addictive than anything else. The Almondictive Bits are pretty darn tasty and hard to put down. I'm not sure if it's more the rich, dark chocolate coat or the crispy crunchiness of the almond. Maybe it's the subtle caramel undertone. I don't know. But altogether these are a pretty remarkable little snack that's rich and satisfying after only a few nuts, yet are tasty enough that both of us wanted to eat even more of them as the flavor lingered in our mouths.

There's only one or two small complaints Sandy and I have about these decadent little dudes. I, for one, would like just a wee bit more caramel and Sandy would like just a wee bit more almond, as the chocolate coating definitely seems to be the predominant flavor that could use just a little more balance. But no matter. The only way these could turn even remotely vindictive is if one of us happens to hog all the nuts for ourselves, but that'd be more between the wifey and I than us and these nuts. We're not above such things, and with her home on maternity leave, we both have an even chance at being the greedy one. She'd probably say it's for the baby somehow...I think I may go count them now. Sandy gives them a good, solid four, and since these are my favorite chocolate almond treat from TJ's I've found thus far, I'll see that four and raise half a spoon.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almondictive Bits: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
-------------------------------------------------------
*Please excuse my omission of that blatantly gratuitous comma.

Trader Joe's Pomegranate Blueberry Sherbet

I grew up calling sherbet "sherbert," which is apparently incorrect. According to Grammarist, the original Turkish word from which the English word is derived is more similar to the word "sherbet." So TJ's got it right. But I didn't.

I was so distraught at being wrong (something I'm certainly not accustomed to), that I decided to drown my sorrows in a sweet dessert. Even though it was a painful reminder of years of mispronunciation and misspelling, I reached for this stuff.

And let me tell you it's so friggin' good, I forgot all about the  whole "sherbet/sherbert" debacle. This is probably the second best Trader Joe's brand frozen dessert we've ever had—right after the Lemon Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream. TJ's is very good at these creamy, fruity, frozen things. And more good news: this stuff isn't even that fattening. It's sweet and sugary, but what sherbet isn't?

It's more refreshing in extreme heat than thick, lard-laden ice cream with chocolate goodies, and it's way creamier than the cheapo store-brand sherbet from other grocery stores. Plus, it's got real fruit chunks, and it actually tastes fruit-juice-based.

Sonia and I polished it off on the same day we opened it. We fought bitterly over the last few bites—got into a sort of spoon-fight duel. We compromised and shared it and have since made up. Thanks for your concern about our marriage.

It's light and fruity, yet somehow thick and creamy at the same time. Perfect for hot, humid August weather. It's conceivable that some would want to pass on this item if they're not fans of blueberry or pomegranate, but Sonia says she thinks it tasted like raspberry. I'm with TJ's on this one—"pomegranate blueberry" seems as accurate a description as any, with maybe a slight emphasis on the blueberry.

But we both agree it's good. Really darn good. Double 4.5's, for Sonia and my highest score since April and a very near miss on attaining Pantheon status.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice

Okay, true story time: A little over five years ago, while still very much a bachelor, I lived in a house with a bunch of other guys, one of whom we found on Craigslist. Now, I won't say anything bad about him, because overall he and his girlfriend were pretty cool except...one day I got a call from him at work. He had never called me before. "Ummm, yeah, we, uh...we burned down the house," he said. Wha!?!? Apparently they neglected the chicken they were frying on the stove top in favor of watching Judge Judy and some grease caught fire and POOF. The entire house didn't quite burn down, and most of our stuff was okay, but my favorite recliner had to be pitched due to smoke damage, so I was NOT happy. Ever since then I have made two pledges: Never find people to live with on Craigslist, and always watch whatever I'm cooking very carefully, especially if it's something spattery.

I mention all that because combine that story, along with new parent jitters as I attempted to make my wife and I bacon and eggs after being home from the hospital for just a few days, and man, that was so incredibly stressful. I kept having to turn off the burner as she asked me to get this and do that so it took me an hour to make breakfast. A freakin' hour. I told myself whatever I made next on the stove top had to be a lot easier.

Thankfully, Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice is pretty easy. If you have about a large fry pan or wok, 5 minutes, and two tablespoons of olive oil, you got yourself a pretty good dinner. Note the take-out carton icon on the package - that's a pretty accurate assessment, and for a fraction of the cost. Our favorite local Chinese place sells a quart of shrimp fried rice for about $7, so once we pay tax and tip the driver and his little assistant we call Short Round (see this for that story), it's pretty much $10. This? $2.99. That's it. More importantly, tastewise, it's about right on par with typical takeout fare. All the rice and veggies taste right, and it has about the right amount of shrimp, which also tastes right, like most TJ shrimp offerings. I have only the smallest of complaints, and really, it's more like a quibble: I personally think it's kinda weird that's there frozen scramble eggs in it. Not that they taste bad, and I certainly include eggs while making my own fried rice, but frozen eggs kinda skeeve me out, and I'd rather have the option of including my own. That may be just me.

Sandy's a little less high on it than I am. I think it's because I have her spoiled. Not to brag, but for a pasty, gingery Pennsylvania Dutch boy, I make some darn good fried rice. She likes all the little spices I mix in, and I also make sure to dice the onions smaller just the way she likes them so she can't really see them, either. Admittedly, since I also favor my own, next time we pick this up (and there will be a next time) I'll dress it up a bit as it's kinda, well, not bland but more like just plain and unspicy like what you'd expect from a restaurant. As is, Sandy will give it a three, but since I think it deserves a better fate than that, I'll overcompensate a bit and go with a four 'n a half.

Bottom line: Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's All Butter Shortbread Cookies

When I was a young, strapping lad, I nearly qualified for the Olympics in the very popular event of Underwater Basket Weaving. They called me a phenom in the sport, but an unfortunate sprained left thumb prevented me from fulfilling my dreams. Now, watching the 2012 London Olympic games reminded me of those days and the dietary restraints that I, and indeed all such athletes (except for that robust-looking American sharpshooter lady) must deal with. In celebration that I no longer must repress my sweet tooth to such a degree, I decided to indulge on these shortbread cookies while enjoying the spectacle of the fittest humans in existence competing on the world's biggest stage and performing feats of athletics that even great warriors such as I could scarcely perform in my prime.

Apparently, each tiny cookie has approximately 11% of your daily saturated fat. Each cookie. Talk about indulgent. The good news is, they taste like they have 11% of your daily saturated fat. In other words, they're worth it...almost.

Sonia wanted them to be "softer." I'm not sure what she means by that. They're not hard. They're made of shortbread, and they have the consistency of shortbread. Really buttery shortbread. We both wanted them to have more fruit filling because we both like raspberry and apricot fruit stuff. But fortunately for raspberry and apricot-haters, a love of those two fruits is not requisite for loving the taste of these cookies, because you can barely taste the fruit. There's a slightly gelatinous texture in the center of each cookie, but any fruit flavor that might be there is slathered in a pound of butter and lost in the sweet cookie goodness.

In short, these guys are a nice treat for a party or something, but if we had these in the cupboard on a regular basis, I'd weigh 300 pounds. And honestly, I'm not sure if I'd want to waste my precious allocation of fat and calories on something with such a one-dimensional flavor. A big boost in the fruit department would have helped these cookies immensely. I give 'em a 3. Sonia gives them 3.5.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.