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. :)

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Nibs

Courtesy of the Hershey Chocolate World factory ride, which I've done roughly 5000 times where their song still haunts my dreams occasionally (think "It's a Small World After All," only about chocolate), I didn't even have to look up what a chocolate nib is. It's the cocoa bean, before being ground and smushed down to cocoa liquor or butter. It's sorta like chocolate in its purest form that's in some type of edible state. All there is, there ain't no more. But I had to look up up again why dark chocolate is good for you - some, in moderation, is acceptable on my interpretation of the paleo diet (close to 50 pounds dropped now!), and I've heard that there's benefits but have forgotten what they were. Well, about to drop some science on ya here: theobromine. Not related to actual bromine. What it does: Lower blood pressure. Helps you pee. Can even (maybe?) help prevent tooth decay. And it means "food of the gods." Not too much else you can ask from it, except for maybe some tax advice and to make Justin Bieber disappear forever. Darker the chocolate, the more theobromine, and since nibs are pretty much 100% dark chocolate, you can't do any better.

Though you can buy and consume just straight cocoa nibs, that doesn't sound overly appetizing, at least not to me. So what can you add to pure chocolate to make it taste better? How about....more chocolate? Brilliant!

Hence the existence of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Nibs - nibs in a form that's palatable to the masses.  Take a nib, bathe it in some 65% dark chocolate, put it in a tin by the checkout, charge $1.99, intrigue guys like me who'll gamble a couple bucks on a whim - good strategy. If you've done the chocolate-covered coffee bean thing, these aren't too far off that mark, they're just a little smaller, like the size of a large Nerd. Once your teeth sink through the cocoa-coating, it's just the crunchy nibby middle. Though it can feel a little gritty with a large mouth full, just a couple at a time are texturally pleasing enough.

Now, 65% dark might seem like some pretty dark, bitter chocolate for some, but that outer layer is downright sweet compared to the actual nib. It takes a couple bites to really flush out the nib taste, and though there's not a lot, it's potent, the very definition of bittersweet. On one hand, I'm kinda surprised how much flavor can come from a toasted cocoa bean before adding milk and sugar and all that jazz - there's a slight nutty/fruity thing going on. Very slight. On the other, I'm not sure how much of just that taste I really want, so that little hit of "chocolate chocolate" from the outer layer adds a nice balance that helps smooth it all over. As an added bonus, the nibs come in a little pocket sized tin that I will have absolutely no practical use for, but will insist on holding on to anyways, much to the wife's chagrin.

Speaking of the wifey, Sandy tried a small handful and wasn't overly impressed. "They just kinda taste like crunchy choco-bits, and I could eat all of these at once and not mind," she said. While I agree on the first part of her statement, I couldn't disagree more on the second. This is coming from a guy who loves dark chocolate and is still learning about things like "self control", but only like five or six of these bitty bits are enough for me when I need a hit. Seriously, I've had the tin for about a week, and there's still about a quarter of it left. Maybe the nibs have struck the balance of "good enough to keep eating, not good enough to do all at once" for me, or perhaps they're just a little too potent as is. Not sure. Matching threes from the two of us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Nibs: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Broccoli Florets

It's time to check out Stoner Joe's Crunchy Chronic Cannabis Kernels, rushed overnight from the Denver TJ's. Just kidding. They're broccoli florets. Not quite as creative as "Inner Peas" or anything like that, but I suppose "broccoli" doesn't lend itself to that kind of play on words. I racked my brain for something to prove I'm nearly as creative as TJ's marketing department, Russ, and reader **Tammy**, but all I could come up with is a new kale product that might have Caesar dressing instead of zesty nacho, which of course would be called "Kale, Caesar!" 

Which conveniently brings me to my first actually-relevant point about the product itself—taste and texture-wise, these aren't all that dissimilar from the aforementioned kale chips, the biggest difference being the lack of a "dressing" type flavor in these broccoli florets. And if you go back to that kale chip review, you'll find that it's a highly polarizing, love-it-or-hate-it product. The comment section reads like a death threat followed by a love letter followed by a death threat, and so on. 

So my advice to you now is, if you hated the kale chips, you're probably gonna hate these bad boys and should consider avoiding them. You may still issue death threats via the comments section if you feel they're warranted. Love letters are also appreciated, but do note that I am happily married.

I thoroughly enjoyed the kale chips. And I'm enjoying these happy broccoli bites. I do wish that they had some kind of dressing, as well, though. They're weird, brittle, and crumby. They're also "planty," but they really don't taste or feel like broccoli to me, except for maybe the aftertaste. They're salty, and there's almost a nutty quality about them. 

They're surprisingly fattening for broccoli, which I guess can be attributed to the presence of palm oil. They're chock full of dietary fiber and vitamin C, so I think we can still declare them "healthy-ish." At $2.79, we're looking at a significantly lower price point than the kale chips. Plus the florets are filling and satisfying, so I'd call them a success in the "value" department. 

On the flip side, I'm dubious to declare that they could ever be a staple in our household or a regular TJ's purchase. So I think a 3.5 is an appropriate score. If you liked the kale chips and the idea of dried, crunchy broccoli doesn't turn your stomach, I say give 'em a whirl. Sonia echoes my sentiments with a matching 3.5.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jumbo Raisin Medley and Trader Joe's Just Mango Slices

Particularly astute readers may notice that thus far in 2015, we've been persistently (perhaps overwhelmingly) positive and glowing in our reviews. I mean, in the four previous reviews this month, there's been not one, not two, but three new pantheon entries? Those are some hallowed halls there, and we don't just hand out that badge to just anyone. For proof, it took three months for Nathan and I to give out our last three crested jackets (which seemed a bit quick then, but for primarily cookie butter-related reasons, we had no choice), and I, Russ, once went over a year between giving out pantheon grades (see here and here - again, the cookie butter!) , so three Hall of Fame passes in four reviews is really quite something.

Of course, look at what we reviewed. Salted caramel gelato - how can that not be awesome? Oh, it is. Sriracha bacon jerky- how can that not be awesome? Oh, it is. And organic sriracha and garlic barbeque sauce...well, you get the drift. Listen, if something sucks, we'll tell you. Like this. Or this. Or especially this. Big Joe isn't paying us to spread his gospel, we just picked a particularly good run of products, is all.

So let's take a step back and focus on something not so flashy - like raisins and mangoes!

I can't imagine how different my childhood would be if I associated the word "raisin" with things like Trader Joe's Jumbo Raisin Medley, and not the smushed up dry fruit shards in a tiny cardboard box that the neighborhood jerk gave out on Halloween, or the sinking "oh wait, that's not chocolate chip" feeling of not inspecting that oatmeal raisin cookie closer. I'd probably like raisins a lot more, because man, these are much different. These raisins are big and full and fleshy and full of bite, and the fact there's three kinds in there - what I'd call "regular" dark jumbo raisins (tastes like a raisin raisin), golden (lighter flavor, still plenty sweet) and then the exotic sounding red flame raisins (the most vibrant of the three) - make them a great snack. They work just as well eating as a small or large handful, one type or all three at a time. For $3.69 for a one pound bag, it's not a bad deal.

And as far as Trader Joe's Just Mango Slices go - listen, obviously, if mangoes are your thing, you'll like them. There's nothing funky added on, unlike that well-intentioned fling while chile powder that didn't go over so great, or any extra sugar or preservatives or weird stuff - it's, as the name implies, just mango slices, dehydrated to a chewy, sticky, state. It's like fruit jerky. And beware if you have some intricate dental work or sensitive teeth - once dampened by saliva, these fruity fellas will find a way to stick to any part of your enamel possible. Have toothpicks on hand for extraction missions, you'll need them. $2.99 seems like an okay price, although I wonder why the other mango slices with stuff added to them are half the price.

The jumbo raisins and mango slices are being reviewed together because I feel basically the same way about them both - I'm not overly impressed by either one, yet I've picked them both up several times to keep primarily as a work desk drawer snack stash. It's fruit, it's healthy, it's easily portable, and a bag of each will last me a week for a reasonable price, so while not overly special, they're worthy enough to be considered a staple, at least for me. Good to know Trader Joe's can do that kinda stuff well, too.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Jumbo Raisin Medley: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Just Mango Slices: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Salted Caramel Gelato

If I were reading somebody else's review of this product, there is no way—no matter how much praise they gave it, no matter how desperately they begged me to try it—that I would believe it's as good as it actually is. This was the biggest pleasant surprise we've seen from TJ's in a very long time. Make no mistake, cookie butter ice cream and cookie butter cheesecake were like heaven on earth, but it's hardly a surprise when the words "Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie Butter" are on the product. TJ's does the salted caramel thing pretty well, too, but this one's definitely my favorite so far.

Although this was our first ever strictly gelato product from Trader Joe's, I must note that I've reviewed a number of other delicious gelato flavors. And I should point out that my intrepid blogging accomplice, Russ, was sharp enough to note that those S'mores he checked out years ago were actually filled with gelato rather than ice cream. Still, TJ's brand gelato is relatively uncharted territory for the WG@TJ's team.

Some might say it's strange to review gelato in January—and a particularly cold January, at that. Those people wouldn't be wrong. Truth be told, I never would have picked out this product had it been me shopping on this TJ's run. Sonia found this little gem all on her own, and I sure am glad she did. She thought it would be ironic and weird to review it in this coldest month of the year.

It tasted like butterscotch. Kinda almost like Werther's, but really probably more like those discs in gold wrappers. Now, I know what you're thinking: those butterscotch candies are okay, but they're not that good. Well, really I guess what I'm trying to say is that this product tasted like what butterscotch should be...like the best butterscotch ice cream topping ever, but in gelato form. I guess I can see how salted caramel might be a close relative of butterscotch, but for both Sonia and I...this was most definitely butterscotchishness maximus.

The whole thing was smooth like buttah, which for most folks would probably be a plus. But I'm always craving chunks of delightful and delicious chewy, chunky things, even in the creamiest of ice creams and gelatos. So that would be my only complaint. We experimented by adding leftover Christmas cookies and candy bits, but in the end, we couldn't come up with anything better than the original smoothness.

It still gets 4.5 big stars from me. Sonia gives it a perfect 5. Don't take our word for it. Wait for the spring/summer if you must, but this is a product that needs to be tasted to be believed.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sweet Sriracha Uncured Bacon Jerky

Combine my last product review of 2014 with my first of 2015 and voila! It's like I knew this was gonna happen.

Actually, truthfully, I first became aware of the existence of Trader Joe's Sweet Sriracha Uncured Bacon Jerky through our good buddy Marvo at The Impulsive Buy. How he, on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean enjoying 70-plus degree weather, can be first tipped off about it before I can is amazing. Must be all the time I spend grooming the icicles out of my beard here in the 'burgh. No matter, once I had the good news proclaimed unto me, I immediately became like the dogs in the Beggin' Strips commercials - "Bacon! Baconbaconbaconbacon! Bacon!" - complete with the deep doggy snuffs and all, and as soon as my master, I mean my wife, allowed me to go to TJ's to procure some, I came home with two fresh sacks.

Sandy I just devoured our third. Yes, I made another trip to TJ's just to get a couple more packs, all under the guise of "refamiliarizing myself with the taste before writing my review." The things we have to tell ourselves....truth be told, it's just that darn good. Be aware, you gotta like spicy - really like spicy a lot - to have a chance of ingesting this jerky. This sriracha's coming atcha' and is not playing any games. It's fully, peppery, fermented heat that will warm your insides through and through. Yet there's an initial sweetness that, although shortlived, is enough to ever-so-slightly play off that heat for a little nuance and character that will help convince your brain that your body isn't trying to digest straight napalm.

All of that is in the thicky, sticky, litte-bit-goopy glaze that coats all of the glorious, thickcut bacon. It's meaty, with only a little fat here and there, and is easily chewable - much more like bacon bacon and not actual jerky. The doneness straddles a good line between floppy and crispy, with a little bit of both here and there, like any good bacon should be. Fortunately, even with all the spicy sriracha all over the place, the taste of the meat pokes through as well, which really kind of binds the whole product together.

This is gooooood. Really really good. But, as jerky tends to be, kinda pricey. Most TJ's jerkies are in the $6 range for about 3.5 or 4 ounces. This bacon jerky? $5.49...for a measly two ounces. I mean, really, for that price you can't put in a couple more slices? There's some print on the bag stating "best if consumed within three days after opening." That's silly, TJ's - try making this last three minutes, let alone three days.

I guess, though, judging by my purchasing habits of the past couple days, my price complaint is only pretty minor. Other than that, this bacon jerky is something I feel is made especially just for me. Sandy loves it as well - she prefers her bacon to be cooked to be crispier than these slices were, but she loves that the bites aren't as chewy or stringy as most jerky is, and how this easily could have been. I'm pretty hesitant to start off the New Year with two straight pantheon reviews - that is an honor that's neither taken lightly nor given out often - but sometimes, you just gotta call it as you see it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Sriracha Uncured Bacon Jerky: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cinnamon British Style Crumpets

I'm comfortable enough with my masculinity, or perhaps my 'Murican-ness, or whatever it is I have to be comfortable with, to admit that I watch (and love) Downton Abbey. In fact, Sonia and I recently visited the Downton Abbey exhibit at the Winterthur estate in Wilmington, DE. Fun stuff if you're in the area.

And maybe it's the few drops of English nobility in my blood, but every once in a while I get a thirst for a spot of tea. I've often proclaimed in my best British accent—imitating Lord Grantham—that it's "time for tea and crumpets," but until this fateful first full week of 2015, have never actually had crumpets on hand. Generally, I had to substitute toast for crumpets, but now, thanks to Trader Joe, that's changed.

I'm pretty sure the traditional English crumpet isn't necessarily cinnamon-flavored like these muffins are, but the cinnamon was very subtle in this particular instance. They still tasted good with grape jelly, but I preferred mine heated in the toaster and eaten plain with butter—or even with a bit of maple syrup, which I suppose is more Canadian than British, but hey, I'm international like that.

They were almost like a hybrid of traditional pancakes and English muffins, but doughier than either of those. They were similar to little round sponges, soaking up whatever we put on them very quickly. We ate them for breakfast, served with TJ's Earl Grey Tea, and it was wonderful—enough to keep me speaking with an obnoxious British accent for hours, which by the way, is an excellent way to drive away strangers seeking small talk at bus stops and such, just in case you're tragically introverted and antisocial like I am.

At $2.49 for six, this product is simply brill. Sonia gives them 4.5 stars, and I give 'em 4. Really, really darn good.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Sriracha and Roasted Garlic BBQ Sauce

Talk about starting off the new year with a bang.

Just look at the name of the newest products to hit the shelves: Trader Joe's Organic Sriracha and Roasted Garlic BBQ Sauce. Daaaang. The first half is uber-hipster-buzzword-happy ("Trader Joe's," "Organic", and "Sriracha") while the second half just promises to be full of flavor. Add the two together, and it sounds like we got the makings of one very potent, very flavorful, very intense condimental companion to your next dinner time. Tastebuds, consider the gauntlet thrown.

That is not an understatement.

This one very serious, pretty boss sauce. Not any where in my recent memory have I had anything quite like this. There's some burning heat. There's smokiness. Lots of garlic. But even then, there's some tanginess and sweetness that all kind of balls up together in one solid, succinct yet complex flavor wave. It's tough to describe exactly - the first taste starts off relatively sweet enouh, with a little garicky crescendo - must be that roasted garlic goodness. But once the heat hits, it hits - there's no dillydallying here. Habaneros are listed as an active ingredient, after all. Although intense, the spiciness is a somewhat nuanced one, offset by some classic smoky barbeque flavor, with still a little bit more garlic poking through. And naturally there's a lingering hot peppery aftertaste which only grows with each successive bite.

As far as consistency, the sriracha barbeque sauce is a good, thicker, goopier kinda of concoction, with little bits of minced garlic floating around. That was a minus for Sandy - it seemed a bit too weird of a textural offset for her.

She and I are on our second bottle already. Our first go-around with the sauce was on New Year's Eve, when on a last second audible we switched the plan from grape jelly meatballs to simmering said meatballs in the crockpot all slathered up in this instead. Good call. The time in the slowcooker seemed to cancel out the heat a tad, though, while accentuating the roasted garlic - pretty good, nonetheless, and made the second time a pleasant surprise for its heat and potency. Tasted awesome with chicken, terrific with some peppers and carrots dabbed in, although (probably not suprisingly) not so wonderful with pineapple - the heat, yes, the garlic, no. Something independently propelled both Sandy and I to do that, though, so perhaps we're not too crazy.

No question about it: the TJ's sriracha-garlic BBQ is going to end up as a new favorite. It warms our hearts as much as it warms our bellies. Other than the small bits of garlic interfering with an otherwise smooth-as-can-be delivery, there's no complaints here. None.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Sriracha and Roasted Garlic BBQ Sauce: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Fully Cooked Pork Belly

Mmmm.... bacon bacon bacon. Bacon. Bacon!! I've consumed a lot of bacon over the past few months - at least a couple times a week. That's part of the glory of a paleo diet - eat bacon as often as you want! It works, too - I'm down nearly 45 pounds since August, even after pillaging my mom's and mother-in-law's holiday cookie spreads in a couple days of unbridled Christmassy sugar gluttony.

But dare I say it but - bacon gets kinda old after a while. Like, it's still delicious and all, but a good change up is needed. Fortunately my dad cures and smokes his own bacon, and is only too happy to share (Maple bourbon bacon? Yes please!) but when that runs out, well, a little variety would be welcome.

Fortunately, there's an alternative to get my inner Gimli all fired up again - Trader Joe's Fully Cooked Pork Belly. There's a train of thought that fresh pork belly, when prepared properly, is better than any salty, cured bacon. This being my first foray into pork belly world, I'm not ready to stake that claim, but I can see where it comes from.

Pork belly is, of course, the slab of meat from which bacon is made. Our particular cut seemed to be almost more of a pork roast/bacon hybrid, as it was certainly meatier looking than most bacons I've ever had. And by cut, I mean it's a solid piece - despite the thick cut slabs pictured on the completely unnecessary box, it's a solid chunk that you must cut yourself either before or after cooking. Since we wanted it for a potato soup topping, and I wasn't sure what to expect, I sliced up a few pieces then started dicing the remaining bit once my fingers were beginning to get in potential harm's way.

My goodness, the end result was delicious. It took a while over some low heat, but eventually we got crispy, chunky, savory, melty-in-yo'-mouthy baconlicious bites that even our normally meat-averse toddler couldn't help but gobble right on up. The thicker cut chunks that got crispy on the outside but remained tender on the inside - oh man, oh man. I'm not sure if there was just more greasy gristle, or the meatier girth, but whatever it was, this pork belly had it. If you even remotely like bacon, you'll probably love this. Just be careful during cooking - the extra fat makes some extra-aggressive spatter when provoked - wearing one of these Quailman style might not be a bad idea. 

A quick Google search of pork belly recipes seems to imply that cooking and prepping your own from raw to edible takes quite a bit of work and/or time (couple hours, minimum from what I see) so this is definitely a fully cooked convenience pack, perhaps not made for the connoisseurs but instead to introduce the masses. Well, consider me hooked - I think I just might start trying to make my own. In the meantime, if I get a real hankerin', this TJ's version will make a quick sub at a fairly reasonable price of $6.49 for the package. The wife and I agree: deeeeeeeeeeelish. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fully Cooked Pork Belly: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Petite Fig, Pear and Cranberry Tart

So far this holiday season, I've seen some incredible Christmas lights, had some excellent beer and great food, played some fun games, watched some classic movies, and read a great, inspiring book. And unlike certain eventful Christmases past, my family members came and went without anyone wishing eternal hellfire on anyone else. 

It's been a whirlwind of awesomeness, and it's not over yet. At the moment, I'm so content, I'm not overflowing with that cynical, sarcastic sense of humor that graces so many of my reviews here on this blog. It's a weird feeling, actually—but not entirely unwelcome.

This year was the first year my wife and I hosted Christmas at our house, so naturally, we tried to impress people with decent food. This tartastic little product was one of the desserts we had on hand. It's not exactly what we expected, but it's certainly not bad.

It's spongy, not flaky. In my mind, and apparently in the minds of Sonia and my parents alike, the word "flaky" signifies a pie crust-style breading. However, this crust is more like a sponge cake than a pie crust. And that's our biggest complaint. It was tasty enough, but we felt the description was a tad misleading. "Buttery," yes. Soft, yes. "Flaky," not so much.

The filling was pleasantly tart and sour. It's also slightly sweet, but nowhere close to a traditional pie filling. Even the sweetness of the pears is overshadowed by the tartness of the cranberries. And there's not much "jelly." It's mostly actual fruit. The overall effect is satisfying, yet lighter and subtler than most desserts.

My dad seemed to like it a bit more than the rest of us, but we all settled on a consensus of 8 out of 10, which puts this squarely in our really darn good category. In our humble opinions, it's worth checking out.

If I don't get another review out before 2015, let me say "Happy New Year!" and thanks for reading!

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mini Gingerbread Men

In the South, they say "y'all." In Pittsburgh, they say "yinz." Here in Jersey and most other places, they say "you guys" or some variation of that. Let's face it: "you people" is somehow offensive. But every once in a while, when I use the phrase "you guys," I get criticized for leaving out the women folk. So let's just agree right here and right now that "you guys" currently means "you persons," "you humans," or "you (plural)." Just as Spanish words like "niños" can mean both male and female children together, or it can mean just boys.

In that same vein, Sonia wonders why there can't be gingerbread women included in this box of merry holiday cookies. Why is it always gingerbread men? Or are we to assume they're genderless gingerbread persons? 

Sonia's whimsical musing isn't necessarily out of a desire for political correctness. It's more because she wishes to see happy cookie couples pairing off with one another to face the excitement and uncertainty of being consumed together, rather than solitary male cookies heading off to the great beyond all by their lonesome, like so many brave soldiers being whisked away to war. However, I sense that this metaphor will very quickly devolve into absurdity within the next few sentences here, so I'm going to abruptly transition to the actual food review. Ready?

Here goes. The cookies are covered in white fudge icing. I like that. Finally, something NOT covered in dark chocolate. They're not too hard and not too soft. I like that, too. Their flavor is gingerbready, sweet, and spicy. There're enough gingerbreadish spices to warm the back of your throat slightly, thus prompting you to clear your throat excessively, which in turn may cause some slightly awkward social situations. Yet the cookies are good enough that you'll continue eating them, which may cause said awkward social situation to escalate into a nightmarish episode of outright public embarrassment. Not really. I'm exaggerating. But no seriously though, they really do kind of tingle at the back of your throat a bit.

I'm not sure what it is about cookie butter that makes it so amazing. It tastes very much like gingerbread, but so much better. If we had any on hand, I would definitely try making gingerbread sandwich cookies with two of these little men and some cookie butter in between. As tasty as these cookies are, I can't really even put them in the same ballpark as most of those cookie butter products, score-wise. They're good, but they're not that good. Plus, I get hyper when I have too many cookies. Three and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia. 

You guys excited Santa is coming next week?

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.