Trader Joe's Organic Sugar Cones

This week marks the official astronomical start of summer, and that means it's ice cream season. Admittedly, Sonia is more of the cone aficionado, or "conehead," in our household. I'll usually opt to shovel the confectionery dairy right out of the pint container and into my mouth like a true ice cream glutton, although even I like to give it the cone treatment once in a while.

Eating frozen dessert from a cone feels more like you're at the fair or an amusement park—except you don't have to deal with crowds and wonder if someone will bump into you hard enough to knock the ice cream off the cone and onto the ground. It's a real bummer when that happens. Better to just eat the ice cream cone in your own home where there's fewer people. It's less expensive that way, too. There are also not as many roller coasters, which is unfortunate, because I like roller coasters. But I digress.

The cones are the perfect combination of structural integrity and brittle crispness. That is, they won't snap when you're pressing down a scoop of ice cream onto the top, but they crunch and break away nicely when bitten from an angle. They're pleasantly thick, but not to the point where they're difficult to eat.

Trader Joe's Organic Sugar Cones are lightly sweet, with "organic dark brown sugar" as the primary sweetening ingredient. There's an appetizing wheaty breadiness to them and notes of vanilla in the background. They have just enough flavor of their own that they could honestly be a stand-alone snack food, but they're also understated enough that they won't get in the way of your tasty ice cream, no matter the variety.

$2.29 for a product like this is a pretty decent bargain, considering you'll find non-organic cones in other grocery stores for upwards of $3. We wish they were somehow resealable, although they do throw you a bone and wrap them in two columns rather than one, so if you're not going to eat all 12 cones in one sitting, at least half the dozen of them won't go stale right away.

Apparently, these are seasonal, so pick some up before they disappear if you're interested. They have a fairly long shelf life, so you could probably stock up enough to last until next summer if you're a year-round ice cream consumer.

Looks like four stars a piece again for these organic sugar cones. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Spicy Porkless Plant-Based Snack Rinds

You know, when it comes to it....I really have no idea how to start here, except to say I've never been so gobsmacked out of left field before for any sort of TJ's product before. 

I...ummm...what?

Vegan pork rinds?

What the what?

This pretty much sums it up when it comes to me hearing about Trader Joe's Spicy Porkless Plant-Based Snack Rinds for the first time. 

I mean, you know what a pork rind is, right? It's deep fried pork skin, render off a bunch of fat, add a bunch of spices, get a big ol' cracklin' piece that's crunchier than stale granola. It's pretty much as unvegan as you can get. Speaking from a fairly carnivorous standpoint, there's some parts of animals not high on my list, and that's absolutely one of them. 

So, instead of that, make some sort of rind-esque shape from rice meal and pea powder and bake them, so basically make them not so pork rind-y at all, except allude back to them in packaging and marketing by calling them rinds and inventing the new word "porkless." That's not fun to neither say nor type. 

Needless to say, if you're expecting a pork rind, this new TJ's snackers ain't it. There's too much amiss. First off, the crunch? It's not there. Crispy? Sure. Hard and crunchy? Not even close. It's a pretty soft bite all things considered. Maybe leave the bag open for a day or two to stale 'em up a touch if that's what you're looking for. More importantly, though, is the aftertaste. After the burn of the spice (more on that shortly) burns off, whereas a some nice fatty savory sensation from an actual pork rind would kick in to really bring the whole experience home...there's just this earthy meh-ness. i mean, I know you can expect much from rice and peas (not a knock, just saying) but they are absolutely a different flavor and taste base than any meat product, which cannot be replicated. 

All that being said, what stands out for these pig-free poppers is the spice blend. It's great! Sure, there's a touch of vinegar, but also so much more - the cayenne and little pinch of habanero really ratchet up the Scovilles while onion and garlic flesh out the flavor more. It's hot and spicy and tasty and delicious. Great seasoning, regardless of what you'd put it on. 

Really, I think instead of trying to emulate and going toe-to-toe (err, hoof-to-hoof?) with pork rinds, which as far as I know aren't exactly cornerstones of the 'murican snackfood pyramid anyways, call these guys something more like "rice and pea snacks" or something catchier. Okay, maybe I see why they went with rinds after all...but you don't have to compare yourself to others to stand out. Just be yourself. 

Failed to get a respectable pic of the ingredients and nutritional info, so here ya go. Thanks Big Joe. 

I'll eat them, may even buy again. I will admit on second tasting while writing this they grew on me a little, but I'm not the biggest fan yet. Meh, and same for my lovely bride who mehs them as well. We'll be nice, give them kudos for the spiciness, and go with threes. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Spicy Porkless Plant Based Snack Rinds: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fruity Gummy Candies

All right. New fruity gummies from Trader Joe's, flavored with actual fruit purees and fruit juice concentrates. I'll cut to the chase today and just break this product down flavor-by-flavor. Let's go!

The pink flavor. Definitely tastes like pink grapefruit. I've always felt pink grapefruits tasted better than regular grapefruit. And this flavor is distinctly pink. Not an intense flavor. Tastes fairly real, natural. Slightly tart, but not as tart as a typical sour gummy. Very tasty as far as soft chewy candy goes, probably my favorite out of these five fruits.

The blue flavor. It looks like grapity purple, but it's actually blue-ish blueberry. Again, not an intense flavor. Doesn't taste much like an actual blueberry, but it's not a bad taste either. Don't think I've ever had a blueberry gummy candy before. It's not like most blueberry desserts I've tried. That's not a bad thing, but be prepared for a lack of sticky syrupy sweetness.

The orange flavor. This mango variety does indeed taste like mango. While not as intense as other mango gummies, it's one of the more distinct flavors in this pack. It tastes slightly citrusy, tangy, and moderately sweet.

The yellow flavor. I like this pineapple candy a lot more than I thought I would, though it was a wee bit less sweet than I'd have assumed. I'd buy a pack of the pineapple gummies just by themselves. 

The red flavor. I have mixed feelings about watermelon. One moment, I feel like it tastes like real watermelon and the next moment, it tastes sorta fake—like a watermelon Jolly Rancher. It's almost as if they mixed real watermelon flavor with fake candy watermelon flavor. All in all, it's much better than the taste and texture of a watermelon Jolly Rancher in my book...or a Jolly Rancher gummy for that matter. This one was probably Sonia's favorite.

Pretty decent selection of gummies. If Sonia and I crave gummies at all, which is rare, we almost universally would reach for something intensely sour if it were available. If I were craving something a bit more tame and traditional, these are about the best conventional gummy candies I've had in a long time. Sonia concurs. Double fours.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Honey Sauce

 Mmmm. "Sauce."

Granted, the use of the word "sauce" in the name "Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Honey Sauce" isn't as intimidating as, say, while cleaning my kitchen for a move years back I found a plain looking packet, on a shelf, with no context or hint or anything for what it contained other than the word SAUCE. Had no idea what kind of sauce or what product it was from. It was....just sauce. And I wasn't gonna find out, as desperate as I may have been to liven up my daily ramen rations at that point. 

Still, it's a bit concerning here. I mean, why "sauce"? What else could you possibly need other than honey and chili pepper for hot honey? Why mess with that?

Apparently, the answer is white vinegar. Go figure. 

Thankfully, the taste of vinegar isn't very apparent in the final TJ's hot honey product unless you're taking a straight from the spoon hit. I tried that and while not overly bad, it wasn't exactly 100% delish. It must not be more than a small splash as the honey itself is still thick and rich, not watered down, and the initial sweet honey hints and the chili afterburn bookend a short but awkward transition phase in the middle that I guess the vinegar helps support somehow. Still not really sure of the purpose of the vinegar to be honest. 

On a final product though? Can't taste the vinegar. Nah. That sweetness rides a whole wave over 'til it's the pepper's turn to take over. It's a very satisfying flavor note that lends itself well to a variety of dishes. First time we tried it, I glazed some over some grilled salmon. The look in my lovely bride's eyes said we'll be doing that again. Dipped some fried right in it, some chicken nuggz to, drizzled some over bacon really just for the heck of it. Can't wait to brush some on some homemade pizza crust, or put some over grilled veggies or potatoes or...the list goes on. Sandy says she'll even put some in some tea. What's your idea? Share away!

Oh, and lest you think that vinegar thing is weird....the ubiquitous Mike's Hot Honey is also composed of the same three ingredients, so there. Don't mess with success. I actually haven't had Mike's in quite a while to really make a direct comparison, though Sandy said Mike's heat hits more as cinnamony-y than pepper-y, at least to her, and TJ's is more the latter.

Good stuff. Whose sauce is boss? Don't care, we'll enjoy 'em both in their turns in our pantry. Double fours.  

Trader Joe's Strawberry & Vanilla Yogurt Pretzels

Vanilla and chocolate ice cream. Vanilla and chocolate cake. Vanilla and chocolate pudding. Why are the first two flavors of everything vanilla and chocolate? And furthermore, why is strawberry so often the third? Of all the myriad fruits on the planet, why strawberry? I guess at Trader Joe's, mango and pumpkin get more than their fair share of representation, but lately we've seen an atypical overrepresentation of strawberry products, too.

That's cool with me. Strawberry is a fine fruit. In many cases, I prefer it over plain vanilla or chocolate. I guess we haven't seen stand-alone "vanilla" pretzels per se, but aren't "yogurt covered pretzels" really just vanilla-flavored? I guess they use the phrase "yogurt candy" because it sounds healthier and more appetizing than "sugary vanilla goo."

Well, here we have miniature pretzels coated in sugary strawberry & vanilla goo, and they're scrump-dilly-icious. In the eloquent words of my beautiful wife Sonia, "They're probably the best pretzels I've had...covered-wise...in something."

I think she added the "covered-wise" part to clarify that they're not better than fresh-baked soft pretzels, but as far as crunchy little dealies that come from a resealable bag, they are indeed among the finest she's ever sampled. I'd be inclined to agree with that assessment.

I actually wish they'd have gone straight strawberry and skipped the vanilla part. The strawberry flavor is most definitely perceivable, but I'd prefer more fruity tang and less generic sweetness. Still, these treats are unique and highly noshable.

The pretzels are described as "teeny tiny" on the bag. I guess they are even smaller than the typical "mini" pretzel. These are like mini-mini. Fine by me. Easier to shovel them into my mouth. MOAR strawberry pretzels! <gurgle>

$2.99 for the 7 oz bag. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Dark Chocolate Half Coated Rice Cake Thins

There's pretty much only word that comes to mind when it comes to rice cakes, and it's this: BOOOOORRRRRRRRRRIIIINNNNNGGGG. 

That's not meant to be taken offensively, actually. I happen to like rice cakes. But I also like painting trim, sitting on my porch for hours, and baseball, so apparently I have an affinity for boring things. Rice cakes are just kinda plain...nutritious-ish, sure...but kinda tasteless and bland...so boring. Gotta add something to them to liven them up a bit. 

Not bad idea here with Trader Joe's Organic Dark Chocolate Half Coated Rice Cake Thins. Now there's a mouthful of a name. 

Now these hombres are t-h-i-n thin. Maybe a quarter inch at most? Probably thinner. But also way crispier and less airy and Styrofoamy then the usual rice discus. It's kinda a fun texture, especially by rice cake standards. It's almost like a regular rice cake, squared and compressed. I dig. 

Add a half dip of dark chocolate though? Now it's a party. 

It's about the same usual TJ's Belgian dark chocolate-y goodness used in nearly all their dark choc products. I'm gonna guess it's between 65% and 72%. There's still enough sugar to add a tinge of sweetness without being overly bitter, and a smidge of creaminess to help soften it up. The chocolate itself seems to add a lot of balance to the grainy goodness of the rice cake, with one side left exposed so as to not overwhelm or be too decadent. 

But still, true to the rice cake roots, a little something more seems needed.

Slather on a dab of your nut butter of choice? Sure, that'd be awesome. Probably some other toppings too! But really, I'd be happy with just a little sea salt sprinkled atop - not a lot - but just enough to pair well with the rice and dark chocolate as somewhat of a bridge between the two.

But yeah, these chocolate dipped rice cake thins are surprisingly decent, and went down the hatch pretty quickly in our household with assistance from all eligible memebers, without complaint. 

I think they were $1.99? Correct me if i'm wrong. Decent snack and one we'll be sure to grab again, lest we get too bored with te current rotation. I'd say between my lovely bride and I we'd give them a seven overall. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Dark Chocolate Half Coated Rice Cake Thins: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Ube Tea Cookies

Ah, ube. We meet again. It's "the popular purple tuber from the Philippines," according to the back of the box. That's about as good a summary as I could ever come up with. In fact, I don't think I knew ube was from the Philippines, specifically. You learn something new every time you read the spiel on the back of a Trader Joe's product.

You might even pick up a new vocabulary word or two. This box employs the use of the word "toothsome." Nice. Haven't heard that word in a while. But how are the cookies, you ask?

Toothsome enough, I suppose. I guess I should preface this post by saying I'm not really a tea cookie guy. Tea cookies tend to be dry as a rule, and that's why they need to be paired with a beverage. 

I'd prefer soft, moist, fluffy, fresh-baked ube whoopie pies or something like that. But you know, as they say, if wishes were buttercakes, beggars would bite.

As these cookies stand, they're buttery, crumbly, and sweet. There's almost too much powdered sugar in the equation. The ube adds a nice, rich root vegetable flair to an otherwise run-of-the-mill tea cookie experience. 

Taste-wise, though similar in flavor, I don't think I'd put them on par with, say Ube Ice Cream or Ube Waffles, but they're another admirable foray into the realm of violet Asian veggie themed dessert foods, as only Trader Joe's can pull off, or likely even attempt.

If you're into ube a lot, or you don't mind crumbly, powdery shortbread cookies, I say give 'em a whirl. Three stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Lemonade Water

 On a hot summer day, what's better for refreshment than an ice cold slice of watermelon?

Not much...except maybe a tall cool glass of lemonade. 

Or, for you Bobby Boucher Jr-inspired purists out there, just some simple sips of water will do. 

Let's make everyone happy and combine 'em all into Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Lemonade Water. Ahhhhh. 

My beautiful bride and I are slamming thru a lot of "fizzy water" as of late. I mean, it's hot. So we're gonna be guzzling case after case, because let's face it. Regular water, while refreshing, gets kinda old after a while. 

In the overarching order of different flavors and brands tried as of late, this TJ's offering falls squarely in the middle. We're getting to be connoisseurs, apparently.

The big issue really is the flavor. While not tinny, harsh and abrasive as some, the flavor just doesn't stick out enough. Not really. There's certainly a mildly sweet hit of watermelon that comes and goes, with a small secondary surge of something kinda like lemon...kinda. It took several sips and "warming up" of the beverage to really taste anything like lemon, and then, it's not really that close to be lemonade. And the watermelon part, while definitely suggestive of watermelon, just isn't quite enough to stand all on its own. 

And I can almost hear it: "how much flavor can you expect out of sparkling water?" Go try a key lime from La Croix. You tell me. 

All that being said, the carbonation is pleasant and on point - not too much, not too little, just right. It adds a nice little something-something for a little extra fulfillment out of a drink, and hits one of soda's satisfaction points without really any of the pop pitfalls. 

An eight can case is less than $3 and will keep ya going for a few days, so there's that. I'm sure we'll buy this again in our never ending rotation. Double threes. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Lemonade Water: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crisp Crunchy Crisps

Inflation is here, friends. I'm sure you've noticed your grocery bill going up lately. Even if you're buying the exact same stuff week after week, the prices keep rising, slowly but surely. Or, in some cases, the manufacturers simply put less of the product in the packaging and keep prices on an even keel. You know, like a bag of chips—they can fill it with fewer and fewer chips and then literally inflate the rest of the bag with air...which may very well be the case here.

I mean, I've never purchased this product before, and I'm pretty sure it's new-ish, but that's what strikes me first about the product before even opening the bag: it's barely even half full of crisps. For $2.29, these things better be good.  Made primarily of pea, potato, and chickpea flours, these chips are unique, if nothing else. At first bite, I thought they were a bit boring and maybe a little bland. I expected them to have a more pungent, earthy array of flavors, but found them to be more like plain rice crackers.

After shoveling a few more crisps down the hatch, I started to taste that pea-ish earthiness that I expected up front. It's there. It's just more subtle than I was expecting at first. They're moderately salty, as well. Maybe even a tad too salty. 

True to their name, they are indeed crispy...er, crisp...and crunchy. Gosh, I mean, these would have been a complete failure if they had been soggy or soft or chewy. The bag says to try pairing them with your favorite dips. I did. They do go well with things like guac or corn and bean salsas. Their subtle taste lets the spiciness of the condiment shine through and provides a nice crunchy vehicle for consumption. Though somewhat airy, they're not as brittle as you might assume, so they can carry a dollop of dip without breaking...at least not every time.

Sonia liked them un poquito mas than I did at first, but they definitely grew on me. By the end of the bag, I was pining for more. I do still wish they tasted a tad more like actual chickpeas. 

Four stars from the wifey. Three and a half stars from yours truly.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Strawberry Shortcake Sandwich Cookies

 Ever take a bite of something and wonder how much butter is in it? It'd be easy to gauge if that something were an actual butterstick (which i may or may not have done in my youth), but, like, anything else?

That was my very first thought with Trader Joe's Strawberry Shortcake Sandwich Cookies. 

Holy moly. There's enough butter in there to make Paula Deen blush. And it's not even that the cookies taste all that buttery - they do, but no overly so - but in that each like crook and nanny of the shortbread cookies exude so much rich crumbliness or creaminess that there's only one possible culprit: butter. 

Take the actual cookie. As my lovely bride described perfectly, they're just the right amount of sandy and crumbly, with a little melt-in-your-mouth crispiness. The little "strawberry studs" interspersed through out do add a small element of occasional chewiness but it all melds together very tastefully. And, wow, the cookies are extremely sweet too - all that strawberry and "natural flavors" (c'mon now) in there, as if one of God's tastiest fruits needed any help. These cookies would be pretty spectacular even by themselves...

But then there's the filling. It's...very vibrantly pink. And super berryful. the frosting is rich and thick and creamy...and sweet. Very, very sweet, almost too much. It'd be pretty great by itself - it's a great buttercream. Super tasty. 

But there's the rub. Together, the cookies and buttercream go just a little too far when combined. It's a bit overkill. Personally, I would have preferred keeping the filling as is but using a more subdued version of a shortbread cookie. Something a little more reserved and toned down - the same texture, of course, but less rich and fancy and delectable. Sometimes taking off a little adds more, and that, in my one only vaguely qualified opinion, would be the case here. 

That being said, my kids loved them as we went for an evening stroll the other night. On a nice night, going on a walk to the local creek with a super sugary treat can't be beat, at least not with my crew. They're the perfect sized treat for a small hand, as long as it's attached to someone who ate a good dinner. And the richness strikes deep enough that truly one seems enough for a grownup too. 

And apropos of nothing, a key lime pie version of these cookies would be ABSOLUTELY KILLER.

When all said it done, it won't take much buttering up to make these cookies a repeat buy. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Strawberry Shortcake Sandwich Cookies: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Vegan Bolognese Style Pasta Sauce

Funfact: when Sonia was young, her elementary school classmates emotionally scarred her by calling her "Sonia Bologna" on the playground. 

Another funfact: her husband would resurrect the nickname many years later, you know, just because. 

Yet another funfact: Sonia and her husband would enjoy a pasta sauce from her namesake city of Bologna even further into the future—in late May of 2021, just yesterday, in fact.

This is actually the second Bolognese sauce we've reviewed from Trader Joe's over the years. The first one was made with turkey. This one is made with "meatless plant-based crumbles." From what I've read, it's a sauce that's traditionally made with beef...but enough cows and octopuses have given their lives for the advancement of Trader Joe's brand online criticism this week. Time for a vegan option.

Although it's not really apparent in the picture, the sauce contains a fair amount of the meatless chunks mentioned above, along with plenty of veggie pieces, too. The pea protein-based crumbles flaunt a mouthfeel somewhere between an actual bite of ground beef and a very small cube of tofu. 

The sauce coats the pasta fairly evenly. While not super thick, it's chunky enough to remain hearty.

There's a rich, tomatoey flavor. The blend of spices is somewhat milder than I expected for an Italian-inspired pasta sauce. I remember tasting lots of fennel in the turkey Bolognese—almost as if it contained bits of black licorice. That's not the case here. The overall flavor is more oniony and garlicky, with notes of less pungent elements like basil and celery.

$3.99 for 18 oz of sauce, easily enough for dinner for two to four people. We ate ours atop some large spiral pasta and were pleasantly surprised. Might buy again.

Three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Wild Caught Cooked Atlantic Octopus

Okay, sorry, story time. It's cute, don't worry. For many nights over the past few weeks, at bedtime, i've had to spend ample time convincing one of my young kids that no, a giant octopus was not going to eat her overnight. I have no idea where she got that idea. I've "locked" the door and put her other stuffed animals on guard. I've made magic protective spells. I've even reminded here that here in Pittsburgh we live nowhere near an ocean. Doesn't matter. She had legit fear that a giant octopus was gonna come eat her. Even if Daddy was bigger and tastier looking, as I also reminded her. Nothing worked...

...until Trader Joe's Wild Caught Cooked Atlantic Octopus debuted in freezers a couple weeks back. "Look, sweetie!" I exclaimed. "Trader Joe's caught the giant octopus! We're safe!"

She totally bought that, then in toddler logic deduced that if the giant octopus can no longer eat us, we should eat the giant octopus. I thought she was joking but she insisted for weeks that we buy it to eat it. Finally, we relented.

And know what? We'd do it again. 

Granted, it can be somewhat of a visually challenging buy. I mean: tentacles, right? Gulp. 

But thaw it out and warm it up. As it says, fully cooked, which saves a few hours of prep from raw. We decided to make a simple "salad" of sorts with red onion, cucumber, and grilled octopus, prepped with just a little EVOO and salt and pepper. The octopus itself is firmer than we thought - sort of like a cross between calamari and a chicken sausage - while being extremely mild. No fishiness or anything. Likely if marinated, it'd soak up whatever flavor it was swimming in. Okay, not sure I like that visual either...my bad. 

And there's no rubberiness or anything, and as my lovely bride stated, even when chewing on a tentacle, it's the same feel in your mouth. Your teeth don't know the difference. If it's just a bit much, though, the tentacles can be removed easily enough which we did for our kids to get them to eat a bite before rewarding them with a hot dog. More octopus for us and happy kids. Win win. 

And our kid who begged for the octopus? We let her have first bite. She popped it in, amde a face, spat it promptly out, then said she loved it but had to twist her arm to eat it the rest of the meal, only for her to state afterwards it was her favorite. Yeah, I don't know either. 

Anyways, the eight ounce package is enough for two servings and costs $8.99. Seems reasonable compared to most seafood, and a buy we'd make again. Would love to hear ideas of how you all may have enjoyed the TJ's octopus, so share away. Double fours. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Wild Caught Cooked Atlantic Octopus: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Carne Asada Burritos

A lot of my gringo friends think I must be eating things like tacos, nachos, and carne asada burritos on the regular since I'm married to a Latina of Mexican descent. While I am treated to an authentic dish from time to time, courtesy of the beautiful wifey or possibly her mom, it's usually a dish native to southern Mexico, specifically the state of Oaxaca. We're talking stuff like salsa de queso and tlayuda topped with quesillo cheese. Yum.

While similar to the cuisine of northern Mexico, the food my wife's family makes only occasionally contains red meat and is virtually never presented in a burrito-type format. All that to say, we're not really carne asada burrito experts or connoisseurs, although living in Los Angeles for seven years and thirty-one years, respectively, might mean we've had more decent Mexican food than the average American. If I have only one good thing to say about SoCal, it's that there's plenty of well-above-par Mexican at surprisingly affordable prices, if you know where to look.

After resisting the urge to heat the burritos in the air fryer, I opted for the oven. 20 minutes at 450 degrees as per the heating instructions yielded a warm outer shell and a nearly-still-frozen center. So I continued heating.

Another ten minutes at 450 seemed to do the trick. I tried the burrito plain at first. The meat was a little gristly. If I'm going to eat beef, I prefer it ground. If it's steak or carne asada, I'm not a big fan of wads of fat and sinewy textures. There was definitely a bit of that here. If you don't mind your meat a tad chewy, at least I can tell you there's plenty of it—at least one or two chunks of carne in every bite. 

Taste-wise, the blend of onions, chiles, and cilantro was underwhelming. There's a very mild heat and just a moderate amount of extra savory flavors. The product needed cheese, salsa, and sour cream to be truly palatable for either of us.

In the end, we each finished our burrito in one sitting, but we wound up giving any beef chunks that floated out of the crispy shell to the dogs, who didn't mind the bit of gristle at all.

$4.99 for two burritos. Two stars a piece on this one. Not a repeat purchase.

Bottom line: 4 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream

 It's May in Pittsburgh. Know why they call it that? It *may* freeze. It *may* rain. Heck it *may* hail or flood. With a little luck it *may* be springlike for a few days...before it *may* get hot and burny and kinda gross. At least it's not awfully humid yet. And I just *may* live in an old brick house that two weeks ago I was pumping the heat in to keep it above freezing and now wish my our stackpipe didn't burst a few weeks ago, kinda depleting our extra funds for some HVAC stuff...including emphasis on the AC. 

Ugh. it just *may* be another long, hot summer we're just starting. Get the ice cream. 

Specifically...get the new Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream. 

Ho. Lee. Sheet. It's been a hot minute since TJ's debuted an ice cream that truly impressed us - we're kinda snobby when it comes to our frozen scoops. the wait is over. Soft and creamy right out of the freezer, and a palty $2.99 a pint, this is gonna be my lovely bride's and my ticket to chill this summer. 

The sweet cream base is 100% on point, and the right call. Vanilla would have been a bit too plain, and while something like a bourbon base would be a bold strategy (and welcomed here!), there's perhaps a bit too much risk for the masses. Sweet cream? Don't mind if ya do! Soft, sweet, creamy, and perfectly delish in its own right. Nom.

Add in some peach puree, though? Great touch! We didn't hit much of a vein our carton, but we had was a great touch. Peachy keen. At certain points, the classic combo of peaches and cream approached the point of perhaps a little too cloyingly sweet, but it never strayed over the line. Even more delish. Nomnom. 

But wait...there's more. 'Crunchy buttery oat crisp"? Shut the front door. YES. Though somehow amiss in my photo, there's ample little pebbles and dust and itty bitty clumps of this around. A little salty, earthy, oaty, buttery, crispy, brown sugar and cinnamony - all classic, and amazing, and really puts the final touch on the whole scoop. It's irresistibly good, and adds the impression of peach pie a la mode...except a lot more ice cream.  Nomnomnomnomnom...I could go on...

Love it. Maybe have bourbon on the side. Awesome ice cream. If this were an option at a local ice cream stand, we'd go often for it. Still gonna support local this summer, absolutely, but there's nothing wrong with having a sure thing at home. No real complaints except maybe a touch more peach, but the mileage may vary in your own respective carton. Go get it, you won't regret it. No ifs, ands, buts, or *may*s about it. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Southern Peach Crisp Ice Cream: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Unsalted Organic White Corn Tortilla Chips

Ever since Sonia's mom had a rather serious stroke a couple years ago, we've been a little more cognizant of the dangers of high blood pressure and too much sodium in our diets. Fortunately, she's mostly recovered and pretty much back to normal now, but it was a long, challenging road to get there.

Shortly after her incident, I realized that my own blood pressure was way too high, as well. I wouldn't say I'm on a "low sodium diet" now per se, but I often intentionally select less salty options when possible.

At the recommendation of a couple of friends, we tried these chips for the first time a while back. At first, I was like, "Who in their right mind would eat tortilla chips with no salt?" But then if you really think about it, most of the time you're eating tortilla chips, you're eating them with something else: salsa, queso, guac, and all of those have their own salt in them. Do you really need to double up on salt? In my opinion, the answer is no. These chips are the proof.

Even though I didn't think I'd like them, I'm totally fine snacking on them plain. Somehow the lack of salt lets the natural flavor of corn shine a little more. And just as you'd assume, all of the above-mentioned fixins provide plenty of sodium content by themselves.

This has become one of our most frequent Trader Joe's purchases of all time and a staple in our household. It's very difficult to find completely salt-free chips in your average mainstream grocery store. We highly recommend you give them a try, even if you're a salt-o-phile like me. It might not be new or super exciting, but it's a classic TJ's product very much worthy of Pantheon status, in our humble opinions.

Perfect five stars from Sonia. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Shrimp Seafood Burgers

This is one of those non-beef products that's definitely not even trying to be a hamburger, so why call it a shrimp "burger" at all? I mean, really, it's shrimp and pollock fish and there's no way to make that combo taste like a beef hamburger. It's much more like a chicken patty in terms of texture, and maybe even a little bit in terms of flavor, too. Well, I can't say for sure why Trader Joe's went this route with the moniker, but I, for one, like the word "burger" better than the word "patty" for reasons I can't quite put my finger on, semantically accurate or not.

Taste-wise, it's about equal parts shrimp and pollock, and both flavors are balanced out by garlic powder and other "spices." I can't tell you what the other spices are, because Trader Joe's didn't tell me, but I can say that they're definitely detectable and also delectable by my reckoning.

The burgers are not hot nor spicy by any means, just flavorful and savory—not fishy at all, either. Another plus: they actually stay together when being consumed and don't disintegrate and crumble like some other patties we've seen from Trader Joe's. Must be the rice flour.

The four little discs come individually packaged. So far we've tried heating them on the skillet and also in the air fryer. Both methods yielded pleasant results and took comparable heating times, although the air fryer method was preferred just ever so slightly by both Sonia and me. The air fryer heating method wasn't listed on the packaging this time. We just winged it. I think it was about 375 degrees for 8 or 9 minutes.

The patties go well with condiments like sweet chili sauce, or you can burger them up and use a mild cheese and toppings like lettuce, mayo, and mustard. I can't see ketchup working too well with something like this, but I could be wrong. In general, ketchup is probably my favorite condiment for beef hamburgers, so it's not like I'm biased against it. I just don't do ketchup with fish, unless we're talking fish sticks, and even then I'd lean toward tartar sauce. Hmm. Tartar sauce might work as a topping for these things, too.

If you like the taste of shrimp, and you wouldn't mind trying it in a chicken patty-esque, puck-like format, then snag a box on your next TJ's run. 

Four burgers for $6.99. Four stars a piece on this one.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.