Trader Joe's Blarney Scone

Before moving to the greater Philadelphia area, which has a huge Irish population, I was unaware of the existence of Irish soda bread—or other authentic Irish traditions like "Irish Potatoes," corned beef sandwiches with sauerkraut, and Shamrock Shakes. Okay, I'm just kidding about the Shamrock Shakes. 

And to be fair, Irish Potatoes aren't Irish either—they're...Philly-ish. Not really sure about corned beef. It seems like there might be some contention as to whether that's an Irish tradition, or an American one...or possibly even an English one. The very fact they eat it with sauerkraut might even give the Germans some stake in the matter, and...well, I've digressed far enough already.

But, Nathan, you say—with your extreme whiteness, red features, and "MacFarland" for a middle name, aren't you super Irish? No. I'm not. I mean, not strictly. On one side, I'm descended from Scottish Presbyterians that lived in Northern Ireland for some time in order to persuade the stubborn Irish that the King of England wasn't really that bad and that the Pope in Rome wasn't really that great, and that shaving off a third of their island was a small price to pay to avoid having their butts kicked repeatedly by the Brits. So...Irish in a sense, yet probably not at all popular with proper Irish folk. And now that I've publicly made myself a target for the IRA, here ends the digression. I promise this time.

A clever play on the words "Blarney Stone," this loaf of high-rise bread is not a true scone, at least not in the sense that I think of. It's not particularly sweet, except for the raisins scattered throughout the bread. It's not at all like "raisin bread" either, in that there's no cinnamon and very little sugar. It tastes similar to rye bread to me—but with no marbling of any kind. What makes it "soda bread" is the presence of baking soda as a rising agent, rather than yeast...and it might be my imagination, but I want to say you can taste that difference pretty clearly. It's nothing spectacular in the flavor department, but not at all unappealing, either.

Texture-wise, it's a nice, soft bread, but very crumby. Too crumby. It was extremely difficult to cut individual pieces off of the loaf, and nearly impossible to place said pieces in a traditional toaster without losing most of the bread to the fiery recesses of the sweltering appliance. I enjoyed just grabbing chunks from the sizable 10-serving "scone" and eating them plain. I must say, it goes well with cream cheese too, if you're craving a bit more flavor. The $4 loaf was a decent value and fun to try, although don't expect anything super exciting in tastebud-land. This isn't really a dessert. 

Double 3.5's and Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Partially Popped Popcorn

"Oooooh these are going to be trouble," Sandy said the other night when we finally ripped the bag of Trader Joe's Partially Popped Popcorn open. "You know this is gonna be good."

No doubt, wifey. Few things beat out popcorn made on a stove top, but one thing that can, at least for her, is the all the leftover little kernels that didn't quite pop in time. The "widows," as I've heard some people call them. For me, I find them a little too hard and crunchy to truly enjoy. It also might be that I'm too mindful of the dollars I've invested in my mouth to keep it semi-functional and toothache free. I like the idea, though, and the Partially Popped Popcorn packaging promised them to be "easier on the jaw," so these were a must buy on our last trip, along with that new-fangled cookie butter confection all you kids are raving about.

Now, I'd have no idea how to even make such an item possible, but fortunately, Trader Joe's provides a patent number and Google provides the rest. Here's Patent US7579036. If I'm reading this correctly, the corn kernel gets soaked to a certain moisture point before popping. The result? The patented popping protocol produces palatable partially popped popcorn precisely perfect for perfunctory party or proper peaceful powwow pickings. Phew.

By that, I mean, these are some seriously snackable suckers. It's been a while since I've had a bad case of trigger food syndrome, but these brought it back. First, the crunch and texture. They're much unlike the Peruvian corn we reviewed a few months back (think: mummified maize), but instead hold very true to the kernel. Yet, there's the edge taken off, and what's more, while still very crunchy, the inside has a softer fluff to it. I was going to use the analogy of perhaps a twice-baked potato, but I don't think I can pull that together too coherently. So, instead, imagine if, at the very nanosecond of popping, as that kernel precisely at the very start of the abrupt phase change from crunchy seed-type-thing to fluffy, glorious popcorn....the whole process just stops. It's frozen in time. Like a note from Clarence Clemon's saxophone, it's pushed right to the very verge of bursting wide open but instead, somehow, it keeps entirely contained.


There is some white dusty glaze on the outside, visually and texturally reminiscent of the stuff on Muddy Buddies, except it's salty and buttery instead of sugary. It's not quite "move theater style" flavor, but is still very salty and buttery and comfort-foody like that. It leaves a slight greasiness on your fingertips, but not as much as a handful of chips, so don't let its appearance sway you.

Sandy loves these. Her only complaint? She wishes they would come in different flavors. "Cheese!" she says. "These just need some cheese and they'd be perfect!" I personally would love a little cinnamon/sugar combo, or perhaps some caramel. Maybe we can compromise and ask for a Chicago-style mixed bag - we have no such qualms as our eastern counterparts. Still, for a measly $2.49, we may have found a new favorite salty snack at TJ's. Until they put cookie butter on it, at least. Matching 4.5s.



Bottom line: Trader Joe's Partially Popped Popcorn: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

  

Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie Butter Cheesecake Bites

If it isn't time to file a class action lawsuit against Trader Joe's for their obvious attempt to kill us all, then I'm just not sure what course of action to take. But we must do something. They could be spending their time and energy making more tasty fruit snacky things or bags of heroic kale...but it seems like nearly half of all their new products are cookie butter-oriented these days. Cookie Butter Cookies, for cryin' out loud! And as if it were necessary, they developed something that could be more easily shoveled down their customers' gullets than the original Cookie Butter Cheesecake—which was quite possibly the best-tasting item I've ever had from TJ's, or maybe anywhere.

I fully realize my own role in this sick scheme—bringing more fame to the fiendish cookie butter phenomenon and lavishing these indulgent products with perfect scores and glowing reviews, sending word about these addictive substances all across cyberspace. Believe me, I'm not proud. And why even review this product at all? Don't we already know everything we need to know about this sinister cheesecake?

Well, yes and no. Aside from the obvious size and shape difference, TJ's has found a way to dramatically reduce the calorie-count in each serving down to a measly 90. (Hooray! This is practically diet food!) But that's probably due to the fact that each serving is an extremely tiny square—a square that will do nothing but make you want to eat at least 5 more. The price has dropped from about $7 for the original cheesecake down to $4.49 for these bites at our local store—but there's less than half as much cheesecake in there (10.6 oz as compared with 22.5 oz).

The cheesecake bites still have the same signature speculoos cookie crust and the same amazing cheesecake base, but the cookie butter topping is significantly different. If you look back to the photo of the original Cookie Butter Cheesecake, you'll note that it was a firm, solid mass spread evenly across the entire crown of the cake. Now with these bites, you'll find a creamy cookie butter swirl unevenly applied across the top of the cheesecake. Honestly, I like the swirl a lot better. And because of that, I can't lower my perfect score. The value isn't as good, the size and shape is less practical—unless, as one reader put it, you're looking for "built-in portion control" (Good luck with that, my friend). BUT, if it were possible, I'd say the cookie butter swirl topping results in an even more pleasing taste and texture. Sonia prefers the original topping and will dock half a point for the drop in the cake:cost ratio. But still, I feel obligated to bestow this decadent dessert with Pantheon status. I've had some extremely delicious cheesecake bites in my day, but these Speculoos Cookie Butter Bites take the cake.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Kale, Sweet Potato & Butternut Squash Pizza

Ciao, Trader Giotto, it's been a while!

Seriously, it has been. Last time we saw Giotto was nearly nine long months ago. Is it just me, or do the different foreign Trader Joe names seem to falling out of use a little bit more? We rarely see Trader Jose, Trader Ming, Baker Josef or any of them. Anyone remember Thai Joe? We do... barely.

There's also an ampersand. Those also seem to be falling a little bit more to the wayside in favor of "and." Give me silly, stupid character names and rarely used punctuation along with your Hawaiian shirts...oh wait, crap, I can't remember the last time I saw a crew member wear one! What's going on!?!?!

Anyways, here's a throwback name for a decent little pizza: Trader Giotto's Kale, Sweet Potato & Butternut Squash Pizza. You can tack on the "With Parmigiana Reggiano Cheese" portion of the title (or not) at your own discretion. While it's certainly better, this particular pizza won't get me rapping like the last Giotto pie we reviewed. But it'll probably get our repeat business.

There's a lot to like here. Let's start with the crust and go up. Ohhhh...the crust. Crispy, crunchy, cracker-y, light and airy but a firm foundation. I can't recall ever having a crust so crunchy without charring the bottom to a blackened stump. While the crust could use a little more dough and girth, it was still solidly tasty if not a little basic otherwise. As you probably could guess, instead of a red or white sauce base, it's a sweet potato puree for the saucy layer, topped by ample chopped kale and chunky butternut squash. All that seems to work together alright - the squash does seem a little sweet, without a counterbalance, though.

As for the cheese, there's a plus and a minus. The plus - I've had Parmigiano-Reggiano straight from the source on several occasions (courtesy of my wife's coworkers, who have gone to Reggio, Italy on business trips several times). It's been a while, so a direct comparison would be tough to pull off , but neither Sandy nor I would ever confuse it with the stuff from a green shaker. It's definitely not "Parmesan." That's good, but there's not quite enough. There were three or four flakes and shreds, but that was really about it. A little more, please.

Overall, though, it's a good, light pizza. I do mean light. Sandy and I made it for dinner, along side some roasted broccoli, and even though we're both increasingly cognizant of portioning, it just wasn't quite enough. If we were characters on Oregon Trail, this would classified as a "meager" meal - certainly not "bare bones" but far from "filling", and now I'm paranoid one of us will get typhoid and the oxen will run away. Great. At least we had some ice cream sandwiches deep in the depths of the freezer to combat all of those healthy things we just ate.

For $3.99 (I think), it's tough to argue with, but that doesn't mean complete satisfaction. Sandy likes it a little more than me, to the tune of a four. Loves that crust. To me, it lacks just enough in a few key departments that I can't go much higher than a three.   

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Kale, Sweet Potato & Butternut Squash Pizza: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Kettle Popped Sweet & Salty Popcorn Chips

Trader Joe's Kettle Popped Sweet and Salty Popcorn Chips, Whole Grain with Chia Seeds, Flax Seeds, Whole Quinoa, Sunflower Seeds.

That's the entire title of this product. It's like a paragraph by itself. I mean, not technically. I just mean it's really long. In a way, it's all you need to know about this product, and it's all printed right there on the front of the bag. If you like all that stuff, you'll like this product. But I guess the point of a food review is to tell you whether WE liked these popcorn chips or not.

And the answer is YES, we did. I REALLY like the ingredients list. Nothing I can't pronounce. Nothing I needed to Google. 

They're low in fat, salty and sweet, just like the bag says. Plus, TJ's has found another creative way to stick quinoa in our junk food. But as "junk food" goes, these chips are fairly low-guilt. Even the sodium isn't excessive. And as far as Sonia and I can tell, the taste doesn't suffer at all.

Not sure who the supplier is for this product, but like most TJ's items, it undoubtedly comes from a third party. Regardless, I think this type of product is what attracted me to TJ's in the first place: stuff that effectively curbs the munchies with significantly less bad stuff than traditional snacks. I mean, I LOVE the cookie butter stuff like most of you, but those treats just can't be everyday snacks unless you workout like a madman or are cool with weighing 300 pounds.

These popcorn chips have a nice light flavor that lets the natural grains through, but it has just enough cane sugar that it tastes indulgent and satisfies the sweet tooth. The flavor is more complex than other popcorn chips I've tried because of all the "ancient grain" type ingredients. The texture is crispy, crunchy, and just about perfect. $1.99 for a bag is a pretty reasonable price point, too, if you ask me.

Sonia was an even bigger fan than I was—she really digs the whole sweet and salty thing and thinks these chips nailed it. Four and a half stars from her. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Thai Pad See Ew

Back in March 2011, we reviewed Trader Joe's relatively unsuccessful, unappetizing Vegetable Pad Thai. Curiously, three months later, we noticed a sudden uptick in clicks on that particular post. We couldn't figure out where they were coming from. Our analytics weren't showing any new traffic sources. But after a bit of searching, we noticed people were Googling "Trader Joe's Vegetable Pad Thai" in huge numbers. So we Googled that phrase ourselves. Apparently the entire New York metro area had been enraptured by a court case involving an opera singer and a prestigious women's health doctor and a violent disagreement over the last box of veggie pad thai at an Upper West Side Trader Joe's. Of course, the biggest mystery in all of this is: of all the delicious TJ's products you might get into a cat fight over, why ever would it be that forgettable pad thai?

But anyway, the point is that the comments section on the aforementioned pad thai review turned into a mini-discussion about this product: Trader Joe's True Thai Pad See Ew. Comments from readers in regards to this product: "truly disgusting," "put the 'Ew' in 'Pad See 'Ew'," "I wouldn't wish this dish on anyone," and "one of the worst things I've ever picked up from TJ's." We've even had negative comments about it on our Facebook page. In fact, I've never heard anything good about it. Which is why we finally had to try it.

Although I don't disagree with the people who find this dish revolting, it's not SO bad, in my opinion, that I ever considered NOT clearing my plate. At no point did I seriously think about taking the unused portion back to TJ's and getting a refund, although, this will never be purchased in our home again, unless TJ's manages to repackage it, rename it, and trick us into thinking it's a new product entirely—which I certainly wouldn't put past them. Sonia described the vegetables as "slimy and chewy." The Chinese broccoli, in particular, was stringy. The noodles were way too soft—almost gelatinous. The tofu didn't blend in with the rest of the product, and the carrots seemed too firm.

In its defense, the product's flavor wasn't a complete failure. The tofu by itself tasted fine. The vegetables were fairly neutral, flavor-wise. The sauce might have been the best part. It was mildly garlicky and salty—but ultimately, it wasn't flavorful enough. It tried valiantly to rescue this doomed dish, but still failed in the end. I doubt even General Tsao's Stir Fry Sauce could have pulled this mess together. And even if the flavor had been pleasant, the troublesome texture of this pad see ew was most definitely its Achilles' heel.

2 stars from me. 1.5 stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 3.5 out of 10.
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QuestionPro

Trader Joe's Crispy Green Curry Shrimp Gyoza

You readers are so smart. S-m-r-t. No, seriously. I'm going to pick up just a recent example: The one who pointed out that the "enzymes" in Trader Joe's Super Burrito! probably included L-Cysteine, which is from animal sources and -gulp- can be derived from human hair -ewwww - therefore not making the burrito a vegetarian or vegan product, despite it going out of the way to include vegan mayo. That's an unsettling sentence for me to type. Yuck. Now every time I see the word "enzymes" on an ingredient list I'm going to think of the first half of this Family Guy scene.

Here's a cheerier example: A couple weeks back I reviewed those Thai Shrimp Gyoza, thinking there were some new hot item, and being pretty disappointed in their lack of taste and flair. Another one of you was pretty quick to point out that I probably really had these Trader Joe's Crispy Green Curry Shrimp Gyoza  in mind, and a quick consultation of the "What's New" shelf and display at the store and even quicker comparison of package colors (green vs. yellow) showed that yes, once again, you all are right. Thanks as always!

And these gyoza are absolutely what I wanted when I got those other ones. Like Cher, if I could turn back time...These are the real deal. There's very little to not like about these crispy dumplin's. First, the wrapper. Even though we just baked these (as is even the preferred prep method, you can also microwave, but why?), the wonton wrapper got very crispy despite its thinness, while still holding the innards and stuffing all together with very few leakages. It was rather impressive, actually, and although my waistline likes the fact we didn't deep fry them, well, my tongue would have loved to tried. Must be that palm oil they're pre-cooked in...ohh..I'll let that slide, yet again. I know, I know. 

It's not just the outside that lived up to the "crispy" billing. The insides were too. Oh, no, it wasn't the shrimp - that was yet another example of superior TJ firm, fresh, nongritty, nonsalty, yummy shrimp. Didn't even notice the "shrimp paste" unlike previous times. Nope, it was the veggies in there too, which were predominantly carrots and kale. Those too were fresh and firm, with a little crunch, offering a great mouthfeel-y counterbalance. And then there were all the great flavors that Thai food can offer, especially in curries - the sweet coconut, the bite of some lime, the heat off some spices. They may err slightly on the spicy side, so if you prefer milder, these may be a little strong.

The only real complaint that either Sandy or I had was we would have loved an included packet of dipping sauce. Just a little extra somethin'-somethin' to dunk these gyoza in would have been an absolute killer, and given that my choices on hand were Frank's Red Hot or my new favorite BBQ sauce, I think we might the right decision to forgo any condiments. Something like a currylicious dipping sauce, though? Man, my mouth waters. In our minds, this is a tremendous pick-up for the roughly four bucks for a spicy seafood pick-me-up that approaches restaurant quality for a fraction of the price. Matching fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Green Curry Shrimp Gyoza: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coconut Strips

In their tradition of excellent coconut products like Pancakes, Creamer, and Cooking Spray, Trader Joe's has offered us an inexpensive bag of snackable little sticks...er, strips. They're very similar to the "Coconut Chips" we checked out long ago, and they taste about the same too, except these puppies are thicker, firmer, and a tad more chewy. In fact, they're surprisingly tough in my opinion, and for that reason, I think the chips were a superior product. 

Sonia disagrees, stating that these slivers remind her a lot of sugar candy, but slightly more healthy. There are only three ingredients, the first two being coconut and cane sugar. So far, so good. But that third and final ingredient, sulfur dioxide, prompted a little Google research. I found statements ranging from "It's harmless" to "It will kill you" and everything in between. The general consensus, though, seemed to be "It depends on the dosage," which isn't particularly comforting, considering we don't really know the exact dosage we're getting in a small bag of coconut strips. I'm going to go ahead and assume there are only trace amounts of it present, because (A) I'm an optimist and (B) I'm still alive. Apparently, they need this delicious-sounding sulfur dioxide to keep the product fresh, as it is shipped all the way from Thailand. Not exactly "going local," but that's a whole 'nother can of worms... Just think of it like this: you're getting a sweet, exotic snack from half way around the world for less than $2. There's that characteristic optimism of mine again.

In summary, if sweet, firm, French fry-shaped coconut meat sounds tasty to you, check these out. Here's a little run-and-gun video review so you can see the product up close. Not sure why we even did one for this, other than it was an excuse to capture the beautiful snow, or maybe that "video whiz" comment from Russ went straight to my head—although I'm pretty sure the Shelly fam would do at least as well on camera as we do.

4.5 stars from Sonia. 3.5 stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Super Burrito!

Look, up on your lunch plate! It's a roll...it's a wrap...it's...Trader Joe's Super Burrito!!

Much to my dismay, I've found that consumption of said Super Burrito! results in no extra super powers. No leaping tall buildings. No flight or X-ray vision. Heck, for some reason I even ate one of these for a late breakfast, and still fumbled around with basic word pronunciation, sentence structure and pronoun usage until the caffeine from my coffee finally decided to kick in. That's what I'm like when tired, even more than I usually am, which is saying something. There's a reason that Nathan's the video whiz and not me.

Kicking it back to the burrito, or as I like to say, "little donkey." Sounds funnier. Anyways, this particular wrap is "Super" with an exclamation point probably because of three of the key ingredients: quinoa, sweet potato, and kale. Pretty much any respectable short list of so-called "superfoods" would have at least two if not all three of these listed - all those nutrients and vitamins and other stuff I should probably care more about one of these days.

Is the taste "super" though? Eh. It's not bad, but the highlight for me at least is absolutely the chile-onion tortilla. It's just like those ones I can always find at the Ohio stores but never here in Pittsburgh - seriously, PA, let's get better tortillas, beer and booze here, please! The bulk of the innards is composed mainly of the quinoa and micro-chopped kale kinda bathing in this "Peruvian style aji amarillo" sauce, with a couple bitty chunks of firm sweet potato here and there. There's not nearly enough sweet potato for my taste here. The quinoa tastes like, well, quinoa and the kale tastes like it's green.

 This Peruvian-style sauce, though? Hate to say it, but kinda disappointing. There's literally nothing memorable or distinguishing about it. From what I hear, it's supposed to be "spicy" and versatile", and there's a pretty significant chance I had some when I went to Peru twelve years ago - most of the sauces I can recall were spicy and flavorful and just absolutely amazing. This glop...well, it kinda tastes slightly like mayonnaise, and not much else. There's a bit of lingering heat, but its source is debatable - the sauce or the tortilla? Also, the sauce tends to get a little leaky giving the tortilla and packaging a greasy sheen. Meh.

Also...I scanned the ingredients multiple times, and maybe I'm completely missing something obvious here, but I cannot figure out why this isn't considered vegan or at least vegetarian. There's mayo, but it states it is vegan. No cholesterol, suggesting lack of animal products...can someone help me out here? 

I'm pretty sure this cost right around $3.29, and is in the fresh section - not frozen. Can be heated up in the oven or microwave if so inclined. I did neither and just ate them cold at work - no oven (no time for one anyways) and our microwaves there tend to ruin stuff more than enhance them. It may be a little on the small side at first glance, but one of these fueled me for several hours without too much tummy rumbles, so it's fairly filling. "Super" is an overstatement, but a lot catchier than "adequate", I suppose.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Super Burrito!: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Brooklyn Babka

Most of the time when I see this item on social media, it's accompanied by some disclaimer along the lines of "I'm from the West Coast, so I've never heard of babka," or "I'm from the South, so I don't know what babka is." Well, I've lived most of my life in the Northeast and taken many trips to NYC, and although I've heard of babka, I've never actually had it—from Brooklyn or anywhere else. So this will be another fine example of my foodie-hackery at work. I've had plenty of opportunities to sample it during my time in the Big Apple, but it has always taken a back seat to pizza from Lombardi's, soft pretzels from street vendors, hot dogs from Nathan's, cannolis from Little Italy, pudding from Rice to Riches, or dim sum from Chinatown. Next time I'm there, I'll be sure to check it out.

But here are my first impressions (Brooklynites, feel free to chime in and correct my assumptions via the comments section below). This thing is heavy. And chocolatey. And rich. It's another Jewish-American treat that arrived in the states by way of European immigrants—and Trader Joe's is making it accessible to the masses. It's a $5 item here in South Jersey, but it's worth it in terms of size, density, and servings (there are 9 in the loaf).

There's something brownie-esque about both the taste and texture, although it's more bread-like than a brownie, and taste-wise, slightly more complex. It's like marble rye bread infused with brownie batter, layers of cocoa, and chocolate chips. Parts of the bread seem stiff (in a good way) but there's also a good bit of moisture, both in the "cake" part and on top, where there's a layer of chips and sweet, syrupy chocolatiness. It's almost too chocolately, if there is such a thing.

Surprisingly, there are both organic soybeans and organic tofu in the ingredients, along with a few other surprises, although, I assure you—you can't taste much of anything other than chocolate, chocolate, bread, and more chocolate. I suppose that's good for chocoholics. Me? I have to be in the mood for this kind of richness. It's delicious, but at the same time, this pastry could never be more than a once-in-a-great-while treat for me. Have a glass of milk on stand-by when you bite into that first piece. 3.5 stars from me. 3 stars from the wifey.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles

Appropriately enough, my thoughts regarding one of the newer TJ treats out there, Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles, are kinda...well...jumbled.

Follow along with me here, if I can be coherent enough. Imagine you purchased a pint of ice cream (say, vanilla-based) with milk chocolate swirls, pecans, caramel, toasted quinoa (more on that in a bit), and to really kick up the flavor, some sea salt all swirled in. Sounds delicious, right? You bet. Now, think if while digging thru your bowlful you happened to get a particularly thick, concentrated swirl in a rich vein where all the swirled-in flavors converged in one particularly tasty nugget of goodness. Taste jackpot? You bet. But that'd be like a once in a pintful experience, at most, and as good as it is, how many rich spoonfuls could you really muster and truly enjoy to the fullest? Isn't there something to be said for an unintentionally perfect surprise morsel that makes the other bites, the random thisses and thats that converge, that make that one bite even more enjoyable, that if it were to be repeated over and over again, somehow becomes less enjoyable? Talking like Law of Diminishing Returns-type stuff here, I guess. Make any sense? Sandy said I did, but she's also been hanging around me for over seven years now, God bless her, so either she's used to me or it's a coping mechanism.

Anyways, thanks for listening to me make a mumble grumble about these Jumbles. I don't mean it as a complaint, it's just something I thought about a lot while sampling a few of these the other night. They're just so rich, and so nicely balanced, without any variation from bite to bite, that it's almost like they try too hard to be perfect.

Although, I'll say it, they're not. While there is plenty of gritty crispiness from the quinoa (similar in taste to crisped rice but much different texture - gritty is best word I could come up with, it's not meant negatively), the pecans are indiscernible in the crunch or the the taste. I cannot honestly confirm or deny the existence of any nut in this product based solely on my taste test.

Other than that, the choco-jumbles are pretty tasty. Milk chocolate was the right choice here - although I generally prefer darker chocolate, it would have been too much. The caramel is rich and soft and creamy, and the quinoa adds just the right textural touch while serving  as a bit of an initial intriguing oddity - I'll 'fess up, it's one of the main reasons why I bought them. But quinoa + chocolate = YUMZ. And the seal salt on top? Listen, I'm not a salt snob, I can barely tell Morton's from gourmet, but pink Himalayan sea salt: 1) sounds exotic-y and 2) taste right at home on top these candies. Take me to the heights of tastiness, salt sherpa.

They do seem to quite quite rich after the second - a serving size is three and that took some convincing for me to have that many, and these are good enough that I know (my lack of) willpower is not the main issue. Goes back to that ice cream thing I talked about above. Anyways, they're worth a shot overall. Sandy and I both hover around a 3.5 and 4 for them, so we're gonna call it one of each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Dulce de Leche

Trader Joe's is in the business of selling exotic caramels. And we're in the business of reviewing them. Some time ago, Russ and Sandy checked out the Fleur de Sel Sauce. It's French for "flower of salt." And this Latin American-inspired treat is Spanish for "sweet of milk." Do all foreign caramels have goofy translations? Do the Japanese offer a delectable topping called "All Your Base Are Belong To Us Sauce"? If so, I'd like to try it. FYI, "Pumpkin Caramel Sauce" is 'Murican for "don't feel guilty you just bought a jar of pure sugar because there's a vegetable in the title."

This sauce is thick and creamy. Even after warming it in the microwave for 10 or 15 seconds, it maintains its heavy yet smooth consistency. It reminds Sonia of a uniquely-Mexican treat called "cajeta," another foreign word which lends itself to several colorful translations. It's caramelly, sweet, and blends perfectly with vanilla ice cream, similar to TJ's other jars of sauce.

Sonia liked this the best of any topping-type confection we've seen from TJ's to date. She gives it a surprisingly high 4.5 stars. I don't think it's head and shoulders above any of the other caramel products we've sampled, but I certainly didn't mind eating it, and I can tell it's a quality product. 3.5 stars from me. If you're into thick, creamy caramel, you can't go wrong with this stuff.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza

Oh, there's those magical words again: "Thai" and "shrimp." What wonderful, wonderful words, especially when joined together, such as here with Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza. Shrimp is almost certainly my favorite seafood, and Thai food...man. When I first discovered Thai food, with the ranges of flavors from complex spice layers to sweet, coconutty curries, I couldn't eat Chinese food for about a year afterwards, because I found it to be so lacking in comparison. And I love Chinese food. Being a fan of Trader Joe's other frozen wontons and similar items, both Sandy and I couldn't wait to try out these gyoza, a new item for us out here in the 'burgh.

Can't lie: They're disappointing. I wish it weren't the case, but we swear to tell the truth here, and truth is this: They don't taste like anything special at all. Well, the shrimp itself is good, in that typically fresh, not salty or gritty way that TJ's shrimp almost always is, but other than that? There's nothing that sets these apart in any discernible way, shape or form. There's no sweet and no heat at all. It's just a straightforward shrimp dumpling, which to my fairly uneducated 'merican palate doesn't register as "Thai" one bit. There's no complexity or subtlety, no nothing, heck, not even a splash of fish sauce - just shrimp filling "flavored" by some pretty run-of-the-mill spices and wrapped in dough. If anything, I tasted a little garlic.

Granted, they're not horrible, either. There's something to be said for greasy comfort food, which the shrimp gyoza definitely had that sense about them. It's just...we expected more. I really can't think of anything terribly interesting to say here, just because these are pretty mundane munchies.

Sandy and I had them for a weekend lunch after M finally passed out for an afternoon nap, and while these may make their way into our cart once more someday, we're not going to go out of our way to ensure that, either. Maybe we're just spoiled by other TJ's shrimp goodies or our own Thai food experiences that when these prawn-esque potstickers offered a pretty mellow, stripped down approach, the two of us just have to be a little bummed. I don't recall the exact price, but I think it was somewhere in the $3.50 to $4 range, so at least it wasn't a huge setback for a little letdown. Sandy's going to call them a 3, which she sees as a perfectly middle score, while I'm going with 2.5 myself. Middlin' score for a meh meal. Sounds just about right to us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Shrimp Gyoza: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fireworks Chocolate Bar

As a self-professed non-fan of dark chocolate, some of you are probably starting to wonder why we review it so much. Well, the main reason is for you, our loyal readers. Many of you are curious about TJ's products, and it has become our momentous duty to try them on your behalf. When a product is Spotted on Shelves by Marvo and friends, and brought to our attention via Twitter by an account called Strange Snacks, as well as posted on our Facebook page by reader Janice, then you can be sure it's a treat worth trying. (Thanks to all of you for the heads up!)

And boy are we glad we did. Just for the novelty factor alone, this $2 candy bar is worth a purchase. Guys, I'm telling you, get your sweetheart one for V-Day. It's unique, spicy, and hot, just like your little ladyfriend. It's full of crackling pop-rocks-type candy and cayenne pepper. The dark chocolate is pretty standard other than that, but it blends so seamlessly with the weirdness of the crackling and the spices that it's still a must-try in our books. 

The "pop-rocks" don't really taste like candy, they just provide a popping, crackling sensation. They sound and feel like mini-fireworks in your mouth. The "attack" of the bar is heavy on the popping, yet the "finish" is when you feel the heat. It's an experience that's hard to describe in words—one that's sure to evoke some "Oohs!" and "Aahs!" I won't prattle on too much about it since Sonia and I took the opportunity to bust out another video review. But I'll give you our final scores: 4 stars from me. 4.5 from Sonia. The taste is definitely better than most dark chocolate, in my opinion, primarily because of the cayenne pepper—but the base is still dark chocolate, to be sure.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Triple Fruit Treat

The epitome of a First World Problem: Here I am, standing in my usual Trader Joe's on a snowy but busy Thursday morning before work. My desk drawer stash is completely barren, and I need me some vittles to make through another crushingly busy day...and my usual go-to goodies are gone. Out. No mas. Something about the truck being held up in the snowy storms that are common enough this time of the year. A crew member says they're busy unstocking but who knows, could be a while. And I don't have time to wait.

"Hmm, Triple Fruit Treat," I say to myself, not reading any further, as you'll see here in just a second. "Looks like pineapple, cranberry and blueberry. That's an interesting mix, and just $3.49. Let's do it."

My complete failure to read and/or lack of basic comprehension has foiled me in the past. This time is another example.

First, obviously, not pineapple. it's mango. But that's okay, I like mango. If it's actually, you know, a mango, or at least reminiscent of one. But it's not, and neither are the the cranberries all that cranberry-y or blueberries blueberry-y. That's because (and obviously, if I failed to read the front, then the ingredients list was skipped) look at all the added junk - oils and sugars and whatnot. Ugh. It's these kind of additives and extras that take a perfectly glorious piece of fruit, one of the wonders of creation, and make it a chewy, waxy, falsely sweet lump of Frankenfruit.

And that's pretty much how this tastes. It's like I chopped up some wax fruit from your Aunt Betty's coffee table and tried to ingest it. Ugh. The "mango" tastes nothing like mango, and I could only tell the blueberries and cranberries apart because of the color difference - it all just blends together in a mass produced blend o' blandness. I took a couple small handfuls hoping the experience would get better, and honestly it just left me a sticky gross sweetness in my mouth, a weird buzz in my tummy, and desperation in my soul. Yuck.   

How bad is this stuff? The following day, I came into work at 9:30 a.m., didn't leave until nearly 11 p.m. that night, and epically failed to either pack a lunch OR dinner after a meager breakfast, felt too cheap to go buy something, had these at my desk all day long...and couldn't muster up the guts to have more than a small begrudging handful. Thank goodness someone left a bag of crispy delivery lo mein noodles I claimed as mine when 9:30 p.m. rolled around. They're so bad I'm not subjecting my wife to them, and they are a strong candidate for a TJ's return (done only once for taste-related reasons).

Big Joe, as a suggestion, instead of calling these "Fruit Treats", call them "Froot Treets" to more easily tip off the oblivious shopper (namely, me) as to what they're buying, basically this ain't anything close to the goodness of actual dried fruit. I should have taken the hint that after a wintery blast, and with more snow on the way, there were still abundant bags of this garbage left.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Triple Fruit Treat: 2 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Fruit Bar with Flax & Chia Seeds

After clobbering you with gelato, chocolate, cookie butter products, sriracha-fied goodies, and incredibly fattening broccoli this month, it's time to look at something not so indulgent (i.e., boring.) And to that end, these fruit bars are perfect. If you've ever dreamed of stacking like 4 or 5 normal fruit leather bars on top of one another and then using that stack to scrape the mucilaginous seed coating off your Chia Pet, then this product's for you.

They're filling, fruity, and sweet, but they're pretty heavy on the chia seeds, which makes them moderately gritty. It also makes them hearty. This little bar is more effective at curbing temporary hunger than it might look. For under a buck, it's a decent mid-day snack, and it's probably a healthier choice than, say, a Snickers bar.

The overall flavor is kinda strawberry-ish, though you can see there on the list that we've got multiple fruit ingredients going on including apple, pear, elderberry, and even lemon juice. It's slightly tart, as well as naturally-sugary—fructosey, if you will...

If you're a fruit bar enthusiast, definitely check these out. Though, an even less-indulgent choice with impressive flavor might be the Fruit + Fruit Bars we looked at a while back. For me, if I'm craving a fruit leather-ish snack, I'd probably reach for the smaller, cheaper (though, admittedly, less-filling) "fruit wraps."

Another 3.5 from me, 4 from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Speculoos Cookie Butter Cups

By now, some of you have figured out that Russ and I are indeed trying to make you fat. It's time to come clean. 

We've actually been hired by the Illuminati to help make America more obese, and therefore more docile and more easily controlled, for when they roll out the New World Order. They're targeting an audience interested in a grocery store that's known for being kinda sorta healthy, and hoping we'll steer the clientele towards the more decadent desserts instead of fruits and stuff. You know something's fishy when the guy who's on a paleo diet starts handing out cookie butter sandwich cookies to the populace at large.

However, rebellious young lad that I am, I must risk life and limb to defy the orders of my scheming handlers this time and tell you all that this is not a "must-buy" item in our humble opinions, and to save your precious calories for some other cookie butter product or even, heaven forbid, something kinda sorta healthy. So why review it at all, you ask?

Easy. The phrase "COOKIE. BUTTER." is clickbait. You guys click it every time. Thank you for that, by the way. Next time, I'm going to put up a Facebook post with something like "COOKIE. BUTTER. WIENERSCHNITZEL." and see how that goes. Cookie butter wienerschnitzel is not a real product, by the way, at least as far as I know.

But what IS a real product is this cookie butter candy bar that we looked at before. And it's almost exactly the same as these cookie butter cups. Neither product is bad. If either were my first cookie butter experience, I would probably be swooning. We just feel like the dark chocolate overshadows the cookie butter flavor in both cases—perhaps even more so in the case of the cups. I think the dark chocolate to cookie butter ratio might be even higher here. Both Sonia and I feel this way, and I must note that Sonia is a much bigger fan of dark chocolate than I am. I'd still love to try something with cookie butter and white chocolate—which yes, I know, is bad for you—but then again, I am supposed to be making you all fat.

Both Sonia and I were surprised at the firmness of the outer chocolate shell, a fact which Margaret over at the Impulsive Buy noted, too—in fact, it's significantly firmer than your standard Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. I'd say that's another weakness of the product, but if you like firm, dark chocolate, this just might be your thing.

In the end, it's a set of 3.5's from the lovely Sonia and I.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cookie Butter Sandwich Cookies

The United States Government defines Schedule I narcotic substances as those with high abuse or addiction potential, with no medical use and severe safety concerns. You know which ones those are. I think it's time we propose a new entry to the list: Cookie butter. If it's as addicting as crack, maybe it's time we start treating it like that.

Yeah, I said it. Listen: You know what it tastes like. You know it's addicting. There's no question about it. You know what you did that one night with that jarful and a spoon - have no shame, we've all been there. I know I have. And I know what it's done to me - listen, as tasty as it is, it sure as heck ain't spinach you're ingesting there. Scroll down and look at the picture of the nutritional information if you dare. Too much cookie butter, with all its palm-oily ways, will kill you. Just how bad is palm oil? It can even make broccoli unhealthy. That's crazy. Aside from the momentary seconds that speculoos graces your taste buds and tickles them in the gingery-cinnamony way that only it can, there's absolutely nothing beneficial about cookie butter, yet it seems as a human race we can't get enough of it. Just search the terms "cookie butter" on this blog and you'll see all of its incarnations - this stuff is super popular.

So, naturally, we now have Trader Joe's Cookie Butter Sandwich Cookies. Let's see...make cookies, grind them into butter, make filling for another cookie. Another stroke of genius, and another move towards total world domination by those speciously speculoosy Belgians. Of course Trader Joe's would bring these aboard - I fully expect Cookie Butter Two Buck Chuck by this time next week.

Not gonna lie: these are darn good cookies. Those buttery shortbread cookie twins are light and crispy and simply melt in your mouth. My goodness. I thought those Danish cookies a few weeks back were pretty good for a commercial cookie - oh, they were, but these are a whole 'nother level. These just crumble with perfection from start to finish.

How good are those actual wafers? As good as cookie butter is (and I know I am veering towards heresy here), the cookies themselves are by far the star of the show here. It's not even close.

Maybe I'm just used to the whole "cookie butter" thing and have grown jaded by its inherent awesomeness, I don't know. I mean, the speculoos certainly blends in for a smooth bite and full, rich flavor experience which is really satisfying, and I don't have any real complaints about the cookies. Maybe my body is trying to convince my brain it's not that good, so I don't need to go eat four more right this moment, so as to not further derail my diet.

Anyways, I bought two boxes of these, one for home for me and the wife, and the other for my neighbors at my cubicle farm - $3.99 for some collegial happiness on a crap-hit-the-fan week is a small price to pay. The votes amongst my coworkers were nearly unanimously for perfection, with comments ranging from "better than anything from a bakery" to "best thing I've had since the last time you bought me cookie butter" to a mysterious "mama's baby loves shortening" - maybe I'm a dealer who just gave them all their first hit for free. As for me and the wife, while we both like them, we're not as overly glowing, for reasons we just can't put our thumbs on. I figure the coworkers say a 4.5 overall (one said she flat-out didn't like them at all, though could not elaborate*) and Sandy and I average out to a 4, so that's what we're going with here. Score too low? Send us some love in the comments below!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cookie Butter Sandwich Cookies: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons       
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* This is the same woman who thinks bacon should be relegated to "breakfast only" status, so take her opinion accordingly. :)