Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers

I've never been to a Thai restaurant outside of Pittsburgh, so I don't know if this is the usual protocol or not, but when you order your fried rice or curry or what have you out here, you're asked how spicy you want it on a scale of 1 to 10. There are certain things I may do in my life with a questionable percentage of my gluteus maximus invested, but heat is not usually one of them. I have to go ten. Sometimes, I get extra spice on the side. One particular time several years ago, an acquaintance whom I was dining with stated he could handle hotter food than I ever could. Game on. Ordered a ten, got extra spice, coated every bite with the hottest chile powder, peppers and curry paste, and didn't take a single sip of water, drip one tear, or heck, even cough. He tried to match me, and it was a cute effort, but it fell far short. That guy's still intimidated of me to this very day.

So, yeah, the Thai spices. Love 'em, though I'm also learning to appreciate other flavors and aspects of Thai cuisine, like sweet coconut undertones, and as experienced here and there, lime leaves. It's a good thing, because otherwise, these Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers would've been a rather large disappointment.

If you have any preconceived notions that all Thai food is spicy, throw it completely out the window here. These are not spicy at all, in any way that any tongue, branch of science, or philosopher could ever discern. In yet another example of TJ's exemplary track record in overall shrimp quality, each one of these are firm, fresh, non-fishy tidbits that heat up quickly and easily. For flavor, instead of the usual spicy suspects, it's all about the lime, but not in a citrusy Warhead-esque way, It's more refined. Such is the way of the kaffir lime. Not sure how to accurately describe it - Wikipedia uses words like "aromatic" and "astringent" which sounds like a smelly zit remover description to me - but perhaps it's like a limey answer to lemongrass. The citrus is subtle, while the herbal taste isn't but it isn't overpowering either. It's just good.

However, it ain't all perfect. This is yet another silly pet peeve that I'm slowly becoming more cognizant that I have, but the tails on? Really? Haven't we evolved past this? I hate shrimp tails, especially because it's not always easy to get the last little shrimp nub in them. My toddler daughter also kept reaching for pile of tails, much like she usually does while making a scene trying to grab clementine peels, except she loves clementines and didn't care for this shrimp whatsoever. Also, these got cold really fast after finishing cooking them. I'm talking ice cold in about three minutes. That might be more me than my little crustacean cronies - anybody with some insight? I could also live without the skewer itself, but meh. Also, please just a little spice. Please.


All told, the shrimp skewers aren't a bad buy. They're definitely much better than our previous meat-unnecessarily-on-a-stick purchase. You get five sticks with five shrimp on each for either five or six bucks. That's less than a quarter each, and given that I saw a bar advertising 90 cent wings as a special the other day, I'm thinking a restaurant would charge much more. Sandy liked 'em enough to score them a four without much to say one way or the other. I'll counter with a three.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Bread Pudding

Because I'm quite certain there's no pumpkin in coconut cashews, and also because I'm pretty sure pumpkin seeds do not constitute a pumpkin product, and also because my last 2 posts have been relatively pumpkin-free, and because my wife and I have suffered from severe pumpkin-withdrawal over the last 2 weeks, and finally, because it's Halloween, I have decided that it's high time to take a look at something pumpkintacular once again.

It's pumpkin-flavored bread pudding. I remember the first time I heard of bread pudding. I was like, "Wait...you mean it's bread and it's pudding?" I was overjoyed. "What's next?" I thought. "Ice cream and cake? Cookie butter and cocoa spread?" It's kinda like that Ford Fusion commercial where they say "I like 'and' better," which is quite obviously a rip-off of the Old Country Buffet commercial where the people visit "The Land of &."

Well, I just visited the Land of Bread and Pudding and Pumpkin, and I'm thinking about transferring my citizenship there. It's pretty awesome. And to add to all of the awesomeness, I must mention that I didn't even turn on the oven to prep this product. I got lazy and used the microwave, even though I've sworn off such barbaric practices in previous posts, even if the instructions list it as a viable heating option. But in this case, it worked pretty well. Our microwave is cheap and old, so it didn't heat completely evenly, but I often wonder if heating the bread pudding in the oven might have dried it out a bit.

Ours was crazy moist, like bread pudding's supposed to be. Both Sonia and I agree that it's actually a bit better served at room temperature rather than warm, despite the instructions contradicting us. Because remember, the WG@TJ's crew is always right. The product tastes bready and custardy, and the whole thing has an air of pumpkin pie. It's just solid enough that you can eat it with your hands or out of a napkin, but it's also melt-in-your-mouth soft, and you could theoretically eat it with a spoon.

This stuff goes great with coffee, it tastes a good bit like pumpkin, and at least in our case, it stayed moist for the whole 12 hours it lasted on the counter under some saran wrap. Sonia gives it 4.5 stars. I give it 4.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 stars

Trader Joe's Coconut Cashews

I've admitted before that sometimes I don't look too closely at a product or label before deciding to buy it. It usually happens when I get sent all by myself by the spousal powers-that- be to go find a "good, easy dinner" or a "yummy looking snack" with few, if any, other qualifications. With such an open-ended directive that can be easily interpreted a myriad of different ways, you think it'd be hard to mess up. Nuh uh. Not me. That's how we ended up being forced to consume such sorry excuses for food like those nasty vegetable rolls linked to above, or the ginger napalm shards, or other similar disappointments. It's like when given the most freedom to get something right, I am most likely to swing and miss. Fortunately, the only realm of life this is particularly true in is grocery shopping at Trader Joe's, so I'll consider myself one lucky hombre.

This somehow leads to Trader Joe's Coconut Cashews. Now, I understood that these were cashews with a coconut twist, so I'm not quite that dumb to think that maybe I bought some meat macadamias or pizza peanuts or alcoholly almonds or some other alliterative nut product. The name kinda speaks for itself.

But, I didn't really look at the nuts themselves, or the ingredient list, to see how the cashews arrived at their coconutty incarnations. Perhaps it was the spirits of the season, but I was imagining cashews wrapped up mummy-style in shredded coconut, or perhaps put more appetizingly, shredded coconut all piled up pinata-style, with the reward for busting through that layer being crunchy, tasty cashew goodness. Not the case. These guys are just cashews with coconut powder, coconut milk, and sugar kinda spooged on them with some coconut oil to boot. I have nothing particularly against any of those ingredients, but man, given the option, I'd take shredded coconut ten times before I'd settle for one of those. There's a certain crunch to toasted coconut which could've been pretty interesting with roasted cashews, in my opinion, that I was hoping to try out but wasn't able to.

That's my biggest beef, but it's not my only. I'd like them a little more for straight snacking if they had just a hint of salt on them, just to play up the salty/sweet angle a little bit. No dice. And while my better half has suggested they may be good for making some curry or fried rice, I'm not terribly convinced they'd be any better than regular plain ol' cashews and adding your own coconut milk. Maybe I'm just a little grouchy that I paid $6.99 for the not-quite-a-pound sack and I'm not that particularly wowed about them. If I'm paying that much for something, I'd like to be impressed.

All that being said, I'll snack on them a little here and there, but I'm not foreseeing these nuts as a repeat purchase. They're not nasty nuts by any stretch, but they're underwhleming at best, to the point I'd say I'd rather have plain. Sandy's a bit more enthused about them than I am, as she's been adding them to her morning oatmeal and smushed some up for some baked apple/oatmeal dessert she made tonight, so I was a little surprised when she said she'd give them just a three. "They're crunchy and sweet and....well, not much else," she said. Since I'd say she's about twice as happy with them as I am, I shall have my score reflect that. It's probably lower than what they actually deserve, but well, as the saying goes, our scores can range from soup to, well, nuts.   

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Coconut Cashews: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries and Pumpkin Seeds

Well, hello friends. In case you haven't noticed, Sandy and I have been pretty busy lately, so I've been a wee bit negligent in my posting duties as of late. I could go into all the reasons why...packing, double closings, moving, painting, two out of town weddings, unpacking, new shift/promotion at work, a toddler who's learning to walk....the list goes on. I'll just take the cue from Dr Evil and move on. Just thanks to Nathan and Sonia for shaking off their pumpkin-induced haziness every now and again to keep this up and running.

Fortunately, we have found time every once in a while to eat, and have found some good stuff in the meantime. On the same late night, blog-writer card pullin' trip in Salt Lake City (complete with customers in lingerie! - apparently this is why - semi-NSFW) we found the Cookie and Cocoa Swirl, we found these Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries & Pumpkin Seeds. Unfortunately, we haven't spotted them yet back in the 'burgh, so this is a wee bit from memory, but I think it'll be accurate enough.

These were a mixed bags of sorts, fairly literally. Let me explain. Most, if not all, of the ones I consumed tasted pretty salty, which if I'm noticing it, that's saying something. Sandy said hers weren't at all and instead were actually sweet, especially the bites with cranberries. Maybe I was just breathing in more of the air as we munched these driving around Antelope Island State Park. I don't know. The saltiness didn't catch on 'til a few chips in, but once I did, my satisfaction level with them began declining kinda sharply.  Other than that, they were a decently okay munchie snackie. The pumpkin seeds didn't add that much in either texture or taste, as they were unshelled, understandably, I guess. Imagine a basic multigrain pita chip, with its overall multilayer crispiness and crunchiness, with an occasional cranberry tossed in, and that was about it.

The inclusion of the cranberries were a little problematic, though. Most pita chips go well with any type of hummus or salsa or whatever kind of dip. Because of the berries, these begged for something a little different, and for whatever reason, cream cheese came to mind. Perhaps to be all seasonal and whatnot, pumpkin cream cheese? Maybe. But the thought of snacking, bag of chips in one hand, block of cream cheese in another is just so unappetizing to me that I just ate them straight and tried to not dwell too hard on potential condiment sidekick options.

Well, whatever. They made an okay enough of a snack for driving around a big stinky lake staring at buffalo while M (now that she's walking, she's not Baby M anymore!) alternately snoozed and smeared a blueberry/fruit sauce pouch snack literally all over her head and car seat. Kids these days....Sandy liked 'em enough to go with a four. That's too rich for my blood. I'm going 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries and Pumpkin Seeds: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Scary Sugar Cookies

I was once again ensnared by clever, festive packaging at the Trader Joe's checkout display. Also, this review is a desperate attempt to keep my promise to stay away from pumpkin products for a bit. Halloween theme? Yes. Pumpkin? No.

Not to be confused with Halloween Joe-Joe's, these terrifying cookies are shaped like bats, ghosts, and...well, pumpkins. But the pumpkins aren't pumpkin-flavored, they're just pumpkin-shaped, so this still doesn't count as a pumpkin product.

But let's get down to the review, shall we? We have fairly run-of-the-mill sugar cookies here. They aren't particularly bad for you compared to other desserts, but there's nothing very special about them either. I'd say these are on par with every other store-brand sugar cookies I've ever had. They aren't exceptionally rich or buttery, and they don't have any special zing: no fruit-juice sweeteners, no cookie butter or cocoa swirl filling. They're just sugar cookies. And not even particularly good ones.

The bats have a hint of chocolate flavoring. They were my least favorite. I couldn't really tell a difference between the ghosts and the pumpkins. They were all a shade on the bland side. Each frightening cookie has a couple dabs of icing for eyes, mouth, etc. But the icing adds virtually nothing to the flavor of the cookies, although I do wish there were more of it, because it would have added a welcome variation in texture and made them slightly less boring. 

If it sounds like I'm being critical, it's because I want TJ's to go above and beyond any other grocery store, because I know they can, and they routinely do. Most people, especially folks who might be new to Trader Joe's probably won't be so disappointed with these cookies, because honestly, they're not bad. They're soft enough, sweet enough, and spooky enough for any average seasonal dessert food. But in the end, I just want more for my money. If I wanted to pay $4 for painfully average sugar cookies, I would have gone to Giant or Ralph's.

I give these scary cookies 2.5 stars. Sonia gives them 3 stars, stating that their taste is fine, but that they're too crumbly.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's The Bagel Spinoza

Benedict de Spinoza was a Portuguese-Dutch philosopher. I'm going to pretend I sort of knew that before I wiki'd it. I only took the intro to philosophy course in college to fulfill my gen ed requirement, and on the final exam I simply regurgitated the limited tidbits they had shoved down my throat over the previous 3 months and somehow wound up with an 'A.' Perhaps it's another result of my philosophical ignorance, but I'm not sure why this man has bagels named after him. My guess is that it's because he was Jewish, and bagels are pseudo-traditional Jewish cuisine. Funfact: Spinoza was later expelled from Judaism because of his controversial ideas about God and the Hebrew Bible.

Who knew that centuries later he would make up for his heresy by offering the world these soft, delicious bagels? They're actually much softer than most bagel brands I've tried. Although, I must say that some of the best bagels I've ever had have been somewhat rigid. Not these. They're fluffy. Good, but fluffy. They're plain, just the way I like 'em. Check out Everything Bagel Slims and Everything Bagel Chips if you're looking for something with a bit more complexity in the flavor department. In this case, though, I think their simplicity is their strength. Nothing but a scrumptious white-bready flavor.

Even though I've made a promise to avoid the topic of pumpkin for a few posts, I must at least mention that these are the bagels we ate with the pumpkin cream cheese. They were a great combo. Recently, a reader mentioned that he was not thrilled with the pumpkin bagels from TJ's, so I must recommend these, coupled with the aforementioned pumpkin cream cheese, as an alternative. But don't worry, that's it for pumpkin...at least for now. I haven't been able to make it back to TJ's lately to be tempted by their plethora of palatable pumpkin products, although my last visit to Target involved the purchase of Pumpkin Harvest Salsa. It's a conspiracy, I tell you.

Sonia says she liked these bagels because they were soft and fresh, but she wonders if maybe we just got a bag that happened to be brand spanking new. The bagels didn't last around our place long enough for us to find out if they got much stiffer over time. She gives them a 4.5. I think they're worthy of 4 stars.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's "this pumpkin walks into a bar..." Cereal Bars

Why did the pumpkin roll into a bar? It fell off the wagon.

Why was the jack-o-lantern scared to enter the bar? It had no guts.

Why did the pumpkin walk into a bar and then divide its circumference by its diameter? It wanted pumpkin pi.

These jokes are even worse than my strawberry walks into a bar jokes. And those were pretty bad. Plus, if any of you are like me, you're getting sick of pumpkin already. Thank goodness Russ's most recent review gave us a brief reprieve from What Pumpkin Products Are Good at Trader Joe's? But hey, this will be the last pumpkin review for a bit. Promise. Unless of course we see a really cool pumpkin product at TJ's that we've never had before. In that case, all bets are off.

So let me just cut to the chase here. These are pretty typical cereal bars. I think they taste like pumpkin, Sonia does not. She thinks they smell like pumpkin, probably due to the presence of pumpkin spices, but says they could just as easily be fig or apple. I totally disagree. They're just as sweet as a figgish flavor, but again, we have cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and allspice present; unmistakably pumpkinesque spices. 

And unlike any other pumpkin product we've reviewed this season, the main ingredient of this product is actually "pumpkin filling," which in my opinion virtually guarantees a satisfactory pumpkinosity level. (Special thanks to reader stevenp for allowing me to steal the word "pumpkinosity.") Granted, the main ingredient in the pumpkin filling isn't "pumpkin," but pumpkin isn't the main ingredient in anything. "Pumpkin" isn't even the main ingredient in a pumpkin! Water is. And that's your science lesson for the day, kids.

For her perceived lack of pumpkin, Sonia only gives these 3 stars. But then, Sonia smells like a giant piece of pumpkin pie this time of year. No, she doesn't have pumpkin spice perfume. There's just enough pumpkin in her system that the excess is coming out of her pores. I can't give this a lower score than I gave to the other "walks into a bar" bars. It's still a moist, bready, snacky, yummy breakfast bar, and this one has a fun, seasonal theme. So 4 stars from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie and Cocoa Swirl

This is Shandra. This is not an awesome (or even "passably good") picture, courtesy of my new cheapo cellphone, but Shandra, and in fact the whole Salt Lake City Trader Joe's, is pretty awesome. As is our habit when we're out of state, Sandy and I were strolling thru late Sunday night, hoping to see anything new or different from our Pittsburgh base, and just as we sidled up to the sample station for a little cherry cider, she came running across the store to her coworker manning the slab, jar of Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie and Cocoa Swirl in hand, positively shrieking "OHMIGAWWD THISISNEW OHMYGAWDD WEGOTTATRYTHISRIGHTNOW OHMYGAWDD!!!" She cracked it open right in front of us and said "You guys want to try?" It's like she knew who we were! Except, ummmm.... she didn't. Anyways, I'll skip some of the nittygritty play-by-play, but the jar she grabbed was the last one and since it was opened we couldn't buy it but she asked her manager, the very nice impressively bearded Greg, who personally climbed thru the truck that was in the middle of being unloaded just to procure us a jar that we could, in fact, purchase. It kinda helped that he had heard of us, but no matter, we appreciate it all! I, for one, also appreciated the two women who were wandering around the store in knee high socks and what I'll generously call a two piece bathing suit. "Poor girls, having to choose between food and clothes," Sandy said. You never know what you'll see or experience at Trader Joe's, I guess. It's all part of the fun.

So.....Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie & Cocoa Swirl. The very existence of such a product begs the question: "How much awesomeness can one jar contain?" Unfortunately, neither has the English language coined the proper words to describe nor has the technology been invented that can compute such things can adequately attempt to answer. It's.....just go. Right now. Go get your own. You'll see.  

For those of you still here, let me flail and fail at trying to describe. It's a perfectly unparalleled union of two of the greatest inventions the junk food industry has ever produced: the mega-nommerific speculoos spread and Nutella, of which I can sing its praises all day. It's almost liked I wished this munchie matrimony into existence, because I've spread both cookie butter and Nutella on the same piece of toast before, and had the thought in the back of my head, "wouldn't it be great if these were combined into one thing?" It's mostly because I'm too lazy to use and/or wash two knives. And by "Nutella", I mean legitimately the real deal, hazelnuts and all. If it's not actual Nutella in this product, then it's pretty much the most convincing knockoff/imitator ever this side of Frank Abagnale Jr. Except for the occasional crispie here or there, it's a smooth mix that perfectly straddles the balance between the gentle gingeriness of the speculoos and the dark, decadent tones of the cocoa portion. My goodness. It's....again, just go. Trust me.

It's tough to imagine a more perfect condimental match than these two tasty lovebirds mashed into one. I've previously posited a "chocolate gum theory" that states that two things that are good separately are not necessarily good when combined. That is far, so far away from being the case here. Maybe it's just my sweet tooth going into overdrive but man....this is just a perfect product. Sandy agrees. After one taste she knew exactly what her score was going to be, and I could tell it just from the look in her eyes. A perfect five from her, and you can count on a perfect five from me as well. I almost feel like I'm shortchanging it, but ten's the max and them's the rules. For something like three bucks for the jar, you simply cannot beat it.
  

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie & Cocoa Swirl: 10 of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Country Pumpkin Spice Granola Cereal

Five little pumpkins sitting on a gate:
The first one said, "Oh my, it's time we ate!"
The second one said, "There are spices in the air."
The third one said, "And lots of TJ's fare."
The fourth one said, "Let's munch & munch & munch."
The fifth one said, "Let's have something with crunch!"
OOOhh OOOhh went the wind
And out went the lights
And the five little pumpkins rolled out of sight.

Then the five little pumpkins came upon a bowl of country granola. The first one said, "Hey, let's eat this stuff." 

And the second one was like, "Yeah, and let's put some pumpkin in it!"

"Pumpkin makes everything better," said the third one.

The fourth pumpkin added, "Especially around fall time!"

But the fifth pumpkin shook his head and said, "Dudes, I'm not into cannibalism. In case you hadn't noticed, we are pumpkins."

"True that, Number Five," replied pumpkin Number One, nodding.

Just then, pumpkin Number Two spied some innocent raisin people nearby. They were a deep purple color, had wrinkly skin, and were very tiny, even compared to little pumpkins. Number Three had a sinister look on his face. He knew what Number Two was thinking. Suddenly, Number Four said it: "Let's throw them in instead."

...And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how this granola came into being.

I recently made the observation that pumpkin-flavored products can taste very similar to cinnamon raisin products. That certainly applies here, where "raisins" are one of the main ingredients, and we see "dried pumpkin" after "vegetable oil" and "coconut" on the ingredients list. There's more coconut in this product than pumpkin, folks. It's not a terrible granola and raisin cereal, but I didn't find that happy homegrown harvest flavor I was looking for. There are hints of allspice, nutmeg, and ginger...and maybe just the subtlest ghost of actual pumpkin, but I personally wouldn't have minded a tad more pumpkin and nutmeg.

Sonia agrees about the pumpkin, though overall, I think she enjoyed the hearty oats and wheat base of the cereal even more than I did. She gives this product another 4. I give it another 3, and the five pumpkins are just happy they didn't have to sacrifice one of their own.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Spice Coffee

Maybe it's because I don't like coffee that much, or maybe it's because my taste buds are overloaded with pumpkin, but I wasn't particularly thrilled with this coffee. Sonia enjoyed it, however, and insists that this product is the first Trader Joe's pumpkin item this season that does have an adequate amount of pumpkindiculous flavor. 

I feel the opposite. I was happy with the pumpkinicity levels of our previous selections, but not with this one. We recently tried a Krispy Kreme pumpkin coffee beverage that was really sweet and really punkinny. It was a hit with the whole family. It tasted like candy. This coffee...well...tastes like coffee.

It reminded me a little of the Gingerbread Coffee we tried one chilly Yuletide long ago. Neither selection tastes bad, but both need a fair amount of sugar and milk to be palatable, in my opinion. There's a hint of pumpkin spice, but other than that, I just taste normal old coffee, complete with bitter earthiness and a bit of acidity.

But I'm no coffee connoisseur. I'm slowly earning my stripes as a pumpkin-flavored-thing expert, but I'm not sure how that will help me in life outside of this blog.

A few weeks into this fall season, and I think Sonia and I have overdone the pumpkin thing a bit. I'm starting to wish there were more fall-themed items that did not involve pumpkin. There are always harvest apple type dealies. And apparently, some sausages are associated with autumn. So maybe on our next Trader Joe's trip, we'll look for more stuff like that. But you folks who are jonesin' for more pumpkin, don't worry, we've still got a couple more pumpkinlicious product reviews coming down the pipeline. Plus, apparently Sonia is not ready to give up this nasty pumpkin habit. Even as I compose this post—I kid you not—she just sent me an email with the subject line: "Made with Real Pumpkins!!" Apparently Yogurtland is jumping on board the pumpkin bandwagon.

Sonia gives this coffee 4.5 out of 5 stars, stating that she likes the way the pumpkin spices and the medium roast flavor blend together. I give it 2.5 out of 5 stars.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Organic Frosted Pumpkin Toaster Pastries

About this time each year, Sonia's skin begins to turn a bit orange. I'm pretty sure it's from all the pumpkin products she consumes. Plus, her skin is naturally a sort of brown/red, so orange isn't that much of a stretch for her. She's technically Native American, of the Zapotec tribe from Oaxaca, Mexico. That makes her a "redskin," like my NFL team, who have obviously been cursed by the Native Americans who find that term racist and offensive. I certainly can't blame them. To put my own spin on a famous Chris Rock line: "Havin' a team called the Washington Redskins is kinda like havin' a team called the Harrisburg Honkies or the Carlisle Crackers."

Another unfortunate side effect of the mass consumption of pumpkin is that my wife's taste buds become "immune" to the taste of pumpkin. It's truly an addiction because she needs more and more of the substance to achieve the same effect. We're setting up a pumpkin intervention for poor Sonia. She tasted some pumpkin in the cream cheese, but she claims to have tasted very little in these toaster pastries. I think she just wants everything to taste like pumpkin pie. I'll go ahead and tell you that she only gives this product 3 out of 5 stars. That's too low in my

opinion.

These are pop-tarts for all intents and purposes. And there's a much higher crust to filling ratio in pop-tarts than in pumpkin pie. Since I'm a carbivore, I didn't mind what Sonia perceived as a lack of filling at all. I think there was an adequate amount of filling and pumpkinnish flavor. It was very similar to a cinnamon raisin type taste. But instead of raisin, it was pumpkin. Distinctly pumpkin. Subtle, yet still pumpkinlicious. I will say this, though: toast these pastries. Unlike many other pop-tart flavors, these guys taste way better hot than raw, IMHO.

For those of you who suffer from similar pumpkin addictions, go ahead and type "pumpkin" in the search bar below the blog description to find page after page of pumpkin-thing reviews. More coming soon.

I give these toaster pastries 4 out of 5 stars.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cream Cheese Spread

Russ was right. And I look dead sexy in my yoga pants. I might not, however, after I gorge myself on every pumpkintastic item I can get my hands on because I will have gained about 30 pounds by the end of this season. As of Sunday, it's officially fall. And yes, like any red-blooded American man with northwestern Euro-mutt roots, I love me some Oktoberfest beers, but the giggly 21-year-old college girl living inside me loves pumpkin ales just as much. Guess what else she loves?

This pumpkinriffic cream cheese. It's super soft and plenty punkinny for me. It's a nice balance of cream cheese, pumpkin spices, and actual pumpkin. Sonia seems to think it needs more pumpkin flavor. I disagree. It's not pumpkin pie here. Nor is it pumpkin pudding. And along those same lines, one should definitely not eat this stuff straight out of the tub with a spoon, tempting as it may be. It's meant to top a bagel. I actually think the pumpkin-factor is a bit too much when it's spread on

toast. A bagel has enough breadiness—enough substance—to put this pumpkin cream cheese in check, just like regular cream cheese works with a bagel while butter and jelly works with a piece of toast. 

But I will say this: there is something light and fluffy about this cream cheese. It almost feels whipped. It's not as dense as a regular cream cheese if you ask me. When you're knifing it out of the tub, it comes out with ease. There's very little resistance. But the full-bodied flavor is still there somehow. It's a miracle of science. It's a miracle of nature. Just like the pumpkin. And the pumpkin spices. And the drool that now covers my desktop as I sit here and pine for more pumpkin. Stay tuned to WG@TJs for more ridiculous, fictitious, pumpkin-based adjectives like "pumpkinlectable" and nouns like "pumpkinnishness." 

When we made our latest TJ's run, the checkout guy looked at Sonia and I and made a funny face. "I see you've been stricken with the same pumpkin affliction that I have, too." We both just nodded and slobbered all over the counter and grunted out a zombie-esque "Puuuuumpkiiiiin."

I give this pumpkin cream cheese 4.5 stars. Sonia gives it a 4.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Pot Pie Bites

This is going to be a boring blog post. I'm just warning you now. Unless you're seriously considering purchasing this product from TJ's but you're on the fence for some reason, you should probably just move along and read something more entertaining like Russ's most recent post, The Unofficial Foodie-Hack Blogger Credo, my old review of TJ's Chicken Pot Pie, or this heart-felt love letter. This post has nothing profound to offer, and since I've already used the line "No, kittah, this is mah pot pie" in a different review, there will be nothing even remotely funny or interesting for the rest of this article.

Why am I doing this, you ask? Why am I being so down on myself? Because I just ate this whole package of miniature pot pies without Sonia tasting even one. While she was on her way home after a hard day's work, I heated these babies up and devoured the entire package myself. And they weren't even that good. This is my public penance for a terrible sin of gluttony. I could try to justify it by telling you that I was purposely sheltering her from a not-particularly-good TJ's product, but that's not really the truth. The truth is that I was just so hungry that I would have eaten a shoe and not saved anything for anybody else.

So I figure a good way to punish me for my crime of selfishness is to boycott this blog post entirely. Please don't read it. And if by some chance you're still with me, please go ahead and leave me a derogatory comment below. Something that will make me feel remorse for my insatiable appetite and thoughtless action.

Plus, I don't want any of you to see this picture of the product after baking. I'm pretty sure I did something wrong. This is a sad pic of pot pies. They look awful. And they didn't taste much better. It's almost as if all of the liquid and softness baked right out of each pie and only a crispy little shell was left. A greasy, buttery, empty little shell. I thought I followed the baking instructions. I thought they'd at least resemble the pot pies in the packaging picture. Not so much. There were just weird little pieces of chicken clinging to a dry, empty shell made of fattening breadiness.

Those were my pot pies. And I know some of you are going to tell me that I should have left space between them when I cooked them. I did, I swear! But it looks like they melted while they cooked. How was I supposed to know the pot pies would melt rather than bake?

About the only really good thing I can say is that the pieces of chicken were small enough that they weren't nearly as rubbery as the chicken pieces in the aforementioned TJ's original Chicken Pot Pie. And as I said before, Sonia wasn't around to taste this abomination, but if she had been, she would have given this product 2.5 stars. That's what I give them, too.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps

Finally over the weekend, it came. You know what I'm talking about. This past weekend in Pittsburgh was the first that offered the cool entrance of fall times, promising to leave behind the heat and humidity of summer. "Get out your hoodies and kick back on the couch with a warm blanket and watch some football, summer will be over soon enough," that cool, refreshing air said.

A lot of people I know, particularly in the usually-yoga pants-wearing crowd, associate this time of year with pumpkin here, pumpkin there, pumpkin everywhere. Not me though. I realize I may be stoned for saying such things, but I'm not a huge pumpkin fan. Pumpkin pie's alright but I'd prefer a good fruit pie like apple or cherry, or the undisputed King of All Pies - my Aunt Brenda's pecan pie, which no one can ever replicate. There's a new bar/grill in the neighborhood that advertises all the pumpkin beers they're getting in - let me know when you get Oktoberfest beers in, please.

To me, though, Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps taste like fall. I realize I may be straddling a fine line here, as ginger is a major ingredient in pumpkin pie and all, but no pumpkin pie has ever had ginger like these cookies, on purpose at least. As the name suggests, there's three types of ginger in here, and no, I'm not talking about nerdy, sturdy, or downright purdy. Fresh and ground ginger provide a good, solid gingery base, but the crystallized ginger really steals the show when you crunch across one - there's a certain momentary chewiness with a little crispiness, too. It's perfect and there's neither too much nor too little. And make no doubt, these wafers are all about ginger - look at the ingredient list, there's nothing in them except pretty much the bare minimum needed to form something like a cookie, then lots and lots of ginger. The resulting flavor is deep and savory, almost bordering on a cinnamony spiciness (but, hey, look, no cinnamon!). They're so good they're intoxicating.

I want to eat these with apple cider. I want to dunk them in milk. As inspired by this gone-but-not-forgotten ice cream, I want to eat them with lemon creme frosting. I want to eat them by the handful. Which I have - if you look closely at the picture, you'll realize I took a picture of an empty container. Whatevs. Although they're available year-round and have been for years (a true, enduring TJ's classic in that regard), I'll always associate these with fall. I think it's because my dad would buy Sweetzels every fall, and while they were an acquired taste for me growing up, I love that my 14-month old daughter seems to like these. I'm not sure if these are the best cookie that TJ's sells (there's some good competition) but it's close enough for me to call them a perfect five. Sandy counters with a measly four. I think she's just mad I ate more of them. For $3.99, dear, you best be assured we're getting these again, and soon.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Triple Ginger Snaps: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons       

Trader Joe's Mini Pie Medley

C'mon, sing it with me! (to the tune of "Sweet Little Lies" by Fleetwood Mac)

Give me pies, give me sweet little pies. (Gimme, gimme pies) Oh no, no, you can't disguise...that these are tiny pies.

You'll soon be able to purchase that track, along with many others, when Russ, Sandy, Sonia, and I finish recording our second album, Jammin' with Joe, which will be available on iTunes shortly. It will also feature hits like "This Cheese Is Made for Grillin'" and "It's a Super Fruit!" It's the long-anticipated follow-up to our hip-hop debut, TJ's and DJs. We'll hopefully be going on tour in the spring, opening up for the newly-reformed Nirvana with Joe Jonas doing his best to fill the shoes of the late Kurt Cobain. It's gonna rock.

Know what else rocks? These tiny pies. That is, unless you're trying to lose weight. Or maintain your current weight. Or not become morbidly obese.

I know they're desserts, but seriously? 20% of my RDA for saturated fat in one pie? And who really stops at one pie? Not I, certainly. Sure, leave a comment belittling my lack of willpower, hinting that only children eat foods like this and that furthermore, your five year old was able to stop at just one pie. 

But really, you've got to try at least one of each flavor, right? Ok, that puts you at 60% of your RDA for saturated fat. And they're not very big at all. They are truly miniature pies. So you eat three and you're still hungry. And we're all shopping at Trader Joe's to pretend that we're eating healthy, right? 

But yes, they do taste good. However, not all pie fillings are created equal. I found that the amazing, soft, buttery crust overshadowed the fruit filling in all but the strawberry pie. The strawberry flavor was tart, sweet, and strong enough to blend with the bready parts. It's not that I didn't like the others, I just wanted the fruit flavor to be stronger. It felt and tasted like I was eating a hot, soft butter cookie—the kind with the little globs of purplish or yellowish jam in the middle, except in my opinion there's never enough of the jam...and man, that crust just melted in my mouth and was so rich and yummy that I just forgot all about the fruity center. And it's strange that I liked strawberry the best because in almost any other scenario, blueberry would be my favorite flavor and strawberry would be my least favorite. 

Sonia felt like the fillings were more or less the same. She actually preferred the blueberry slightly. She wishes there were more pies in the box and thinks that $4.49 for six pies isn't a very good value, but because she was absolutely wowed by their decadent taste, she gives this product 4 out of 5 stars.

Because of the amazingly delicious crust, I can't go lower than 3.5 stars.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Super Fruit Spread

I could chalk it up to me being some kind of berry snob, but unfortunately my slight aversion to the taste of this spread is more likely a consequence of a lifetime of eating non-organic, heavily-sweetened, fake-flavored, overly-processed products of our modern industrial age. Sad. This stuff kinda reminds me of the blackberry spread we reviewed a long time ago. Like the blackberry spread, I feel that this "Super Fruit" lacks a certain punch. Unlike the blackberry spread, this stuff doesn't have corn syrup or added sugar, which is always good.

My 13-year-old palate wanted both of those products to taste like Trader Joe's Blackberry Crush. But I suppose if something's gotta have a grown-up taste, it's better if it does so with truly organic ingredients. I'm still waiting for the spreadable version of Blackberry Crush, but until it comes, there are always brands like Smucker's that offer organic jellies, most of which have "organic sugar" added. I'm pretty sure TJ's has similar products, but we just haven't gotten around to reviewing them yet.

But to be fair, I must mention that Sonia really liked this spread. She doesn't have the sweet tooth I do, so the natural fruit was plenty potent for her. She liked the consistency of it, too. It's pretty

smooth overall, yet there's enough mashed up berry bits that you really believe the product is coming straight from crushed fruit. And I must say, I enjoyed the product much more when used in a PB&J sandwich, rather than just by itself on toast, although people who really enjoy the taste of organic fruit might disagree, Sonia included.

I thought for a minute when I first looked at the jar that maybe "Super Fruit" was some kind of amazing, recently-discovered plant from the Amazon that tastes like chocolate and has preposterous amounts of antioxidants or something like that. Kind of like an "açaí berry" or "passion fruit," but you know, like, more super. I was wrong. Super Fruit is nothing more than the amalgamation of cherries, grapes, blueberries, and pomegranates.

Since there's basically nothing but fruit in the jar and since Sonia loved it so much, I can't give this a worse score than I gave to the blackberry preserves. So 3 stars from me. Sonia gives it 4 stars. That puts this product squarely in our "not bad" category.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader José's Chile & Onion Flour Tortillas

Some things in life just aren't fair. For a pretty benign example, imagine being a Pennsylvania resident (which I am) and going to an out-of-state Trader Joe's (which I have, on numerous occasions) and surveying the vast selections of consumable goods that just aren't available in your local store. It's unfair. I mean, I've been to the Woodmere, OH store on multiple occasions, and each time, I enviously eye them up. It's literally a whole section of the store. Why, as a PA resident, can I not buy the same goodies as a native of the good state of Ohio? Is it antiquated state law? Market demands?  Lingering animosity over the Buckeyes-Nittany Lions rivalry? I don't know, but it's not fair. Somebody get the governor on the phone.

Lest you think I'm talking about beer and wine (for those not in the know, PA does have antiquated state laws not allowing for alcohol sales in most retail channels, including grocery stores, so we're living in roughly the year 1792 here), this time I'm not. Though I did get some on my most recent trip, there's nothing I felt too compelled to review yet. The Stockyard Oatmeal Stout's pretty tasty, the Simple Times lager isn't great but is much better than their other cheapo option, and perhaps once we get in our new house Sandy and I will have the occasion to break out the wine.

But I am talking about the Trader Jose Chile & Onion Flour Tortillas. I first spotted these several years ago there and just had to try them, I loved them, an hoped they'd migrate just a little further east and south to my Pittsburgh home store. When they hadn't, I assumed they got discontinued for whatever reason. But no, they're still up at the Woodmere store, just outside Cleveland, along with other tortilla flavors that we in the 'burgh just don't have. We only have the run-of-the-mill flour and corn variety, with the Habenero and Lime  for an exotic option, which gets old after a while.

If these were regularly available to me, these would be my everyday tortilla. And I eat a lot of tortillas. They're just perfect. Take a good flour tortilla and add in onion and some actually legitimate chile spice, and BAM. They taste good plain, pair wonderfully with my fake chorizo/rice/bean delight I regularly make, and even taste alright and hold up okay after zapping a microwave quesadilla. Tell you what, though: fry them up in a little butter for a stove top quesadilla, and they are a-m-a-z-i-n-g. The tortillas crisp up perfectly, absorb in a little butter, and get all nice and flaky while the flavor just pops then. They're spicy enough to keep me intrigued but probably accessible enough to most flavor palettes. I've tried replicating their exact spice level by tossing in some red pepper flakes into the cheesy portion, but it just doesn't work the same.

These are some seriously good hombres, and they need to find a new home: Pittsburgh. Please come. I may be the bigger fan of these tortillas. Sandy kinda shrugged and said "I like 'em. They're good. I like 'em. Quote that." As you wish. I just wish I didn't finally eat the last one of them the other night after savoring them for a while. I'm giving them a perfect five and guessing for Sandy's score...

Bottom line: Trader Jose's Chile & Onion Flour Tortillas: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons