Podcast Episode 5: Favorite Summer Products

In this episode we share the products that have helped us tolerate the Dog Days of Summer. Visit us on iTunes and Stitcher. And if you like this podcast, be sure to also check out The Nosh Show and Candyology 101. 

Download: MP3 (23.1 MB)

Show Notes: www.letstalktjs.com/5/

Opening Music: www.bensound.com

Thanks for listening!

Trader Joe's Brownie Crisp

It started off innocently enough last week, and devolved pretty quickly from there. Who knew the question of "Is a Fig Newton a cookie or not?" could be hotly debatable? Generally, we try to avoid controversy and be some lighthearted fun here, but...In my review last week of Trader Joe's Fig Bites (basically, Fig Newtons), I referred to them once or twice as "cookies" which a few readers didn't agree with that classification.  Now, granted, when I think of the word "cookie," Fig Newtons aren't the first thing that comes to mind....maybe it's something like these or these, but if the word "cookie" can encompass decadent treats like these, well, there's room for a Fig Newton or two, too. I was about to laugh about it with some coworkers when I found that there's nearly a 50/50 split at my workplace, with those disagreeing with cookie classification agreeing more towards "pastry bar" because they were akin to NutraGrain bars, just smaller. This was despite the fact that Fig Newton packages say they are "fruit chewy cookies" and the Nabisco website even states that Fig Newtons are, in fact, cookies. I'm glossing over a lot here. This is how we make it through our nearly 50 hour weeks every week. Just glad we weren't called into the principal's office for all the ruckus this caused.

Well, if a Fig Newton could cause so much controversy, what can be wrought by Trader Joe's Brownie Crisp? God only knows.

These can be classified easily as a brownie based solely on their taste. To be honest, it's fairly surprising how much rich flavor gets packed into each bite - these are some powerfully chocolatey bites, in both the batter and the chips that are fairly sprinkled throughout. In fact, Sandy and I though we'd be clever and spread a little knockoff Nutella on them, and the brownie flavor completely overpowered it. Fierce cocoa here. But isn't part of the brownie experience texturally based? Whether cakey and dry or a little wet and smushy (the way I prefer), there's a little somethin'-somethin' to make a brownie a brownie, which these dry, crunchy, crispy critters just don't have. They're not even like the slightly burned edges you invariably get in a brownie pans - it's more like every drip of anything moisture related got slurped off, leaving behind only a crunchy, hard shell. That makes them lean more towards cookie but I'm not quite comfortbale calling them that, nor would I called them "crisps", per se. Crisps imply to mean thin crispy-crunchy bites, like a potato chip, while these are decidedly thicker and crunchier.

So...I don't know what I'd call these brownie-ish bites, except good. Really darn good. There's some added bonuses which kick them a few notches on up. First, check out the nutritionals: That's not that bad for such a decadent treat! Just one or two crunchy cookie crumbles get me my chocolate fix. Plus, these are both vegan and gluten-free, meaning even more folks can enjoy them. Fairly inclusive, mostly guilt free, and pretty tasty? Yes please! These facts make me happy enough to rate them a little higher than I would otherwise.

We've gone to TJ's a few times a week, and thus far it seems like these fellas may have the nasty habit of mysteriously jumping into our cart. Sandy's enamored with them enough to give them a perfect five. I'm close to that. The chocolate, although pretty good, seems a little one note on repeated bites, so I wish these had a little more variation, or had some nuts or mint or sea salt or some other kind of flavor put on in. Also, the brownie flavor was enough to make me wish I were eating an actual slightly goopy moist brownie, and I just couldn't shake that.

So are these brownies? Or cookies? Or crisps? Something else? Let's discuss this below in the comments. Much like the second package we got this week, I'm open for a good time.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Brownie Crisp: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons





  

Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral

Every once in a while, someone makes the assertion that I am a talented writer. Even more every once in a while, that someone is not my mom. And then, yet even more every once in a while, I get the question of why I basically only write about Trader Joe's products, and not things like politics or social issues or other weighty, important muckity muck like that.

Easy. We all need a break from that. Just check your Facebook newsfeed. And just consider me pretty hesitant to add yet another clamoring voice to that festering noise pile of opinion, when really, at the end of the day, I'll either agree with you, or we'll balance each other out, so either way we're good in my opinion. Let's talk happy stuff like food instead.

That's why in this review of Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral, I'll avoid all that Greek/EU economic WTFery going on (that's a Greek spiral in its own way). Instead, revisit my classic 5 Cheese Frusta review here, because perfect segue...

Much like that frusta, all the cheeses in this spirally guy just kinda melt all together in an indistinguishable meld. And instead of cheesy, I'd say it tastes more salty and perhaps even gritty. I know for sure what gouda is supposed to taste like - not there. And I've been to enough Greek food festivals to be confident that I'd be able to identify the others, even if I'm not 100% sure what either "semi-hard" (flaccid?) or "blue" (not "bleu") cheese is...and no feta? Hrmmm.

That's not quite all, either. The phyllo roll seems to be one long, long section of dough sheets rolled up, but no base to hold them together, so cutting the pie-shaped section like the one picture on the box front results in multiple crescent-shaped sections. Plus, while baking in the oven, the whole thing was just kinda spewing out grease and stuff, which dampened my enthusiasm somewhat. It's not like that should have been unexpected, but still. The end result is a greasy, crispy, kinda bland, yet kinda salty dish that would be okay alongside some other, more successful Greek-inspired TJ's products, but don't make this one the star of a Greek feast.

 Not too much else to say. Sandy seemed indifferent when we ate this about a week ago, so I was surprised when she decided to give it a four. "Just so crispy!" she exclaimed. I'll give it that....but not much else.  It takes a little more to get my zorbas dancing.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 5 Cheese Greek Spiral: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fig Bites

I like to think I'm pretty good at guessing what's inside packages and wrapped gifts. Sort an annoying habit for all of those around me, I know, but I've just always been that way. There's a whole routine - a little shake, a couple taps or a knock (depending on size), another few wiggles. Usually I'm pretty close - the only significant, way-off guess I can recall is when I thought I was going to get a bike as my big Christmas present one year, but I'll chalk that more up to my then-five year old mind not being able to comprehend the magnitude of awesomeness that a G.I. Joe aircraft carrier is.

This is mentioned in relation to Trader Joe's Fig Bites because on our latest podcast, Sonia mentioned seeing them in store and not knowing what they could be. Sure enough, when I found them a few days later, there's the opaque packaging, with very few (if any) clues on the write up on them. But I can feel a plastic tray....with rows?...yeah, there's rows...with little squares inside of them that most be the aforementioned Fig Bites....

"They're just Fig Newtons," Sandy blurted out. "Stop making a spectacle."

Sigh. Was just about there, but you beat me to it, wifey. Thanks. And I wasn't making that much of a spectacle, either.

Anyways, yes, take a look at the product shot on the left. "Just Fig Newtons" is about the most accurate description possible for them. Now, it's been a long time (years?) since I've had an actual authentic Fig Newton Fig Newton, so I may be a little off base, but there's not too much distinction I can draw between the two. The cookie casing might be a little cakier and not quite as chewy, with the fig portion a slight bit different too...but really, they're just about the same. Nutritionally, they're about the same, as well, but with the Trader Joe's advantage of no high fructose corn syrup. If there's any built-in advantage to a Turkish fig, well, someone will have to fill me in here, I'm ignorant. Really, if someone made me do a side-by-side comparison, I'm thinking I'd be hard pressed to tell them apart.

All of this makes for a kind of "meh" experience for me. I have nothing really against them....but there's nothing for me to loove here either. The best enjoyment I got from these cookies was my eight month old baby girl smacking her lips while she watched me eat them, as if to say "Daddy, pleasepleaseplease, can I have a bite?" I'd be inclined but we're trying to save the sweets 'til her first birthday. Our toddler seemed to like them, enough to ask for seconds (and maybe thirds), while Sandy kinda joined me in the meh-ish middle. For the couple bucks pick up, we'll probably get them again, but we won't go out of our ways, either.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fig Bites: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Salted Caramel Bread Pudding

It's time for the long-awaited sequel to Trader Joe's Pumpkin Bread Pudding. 

As Russ pointed out a while ago, other than some notable exceptions, sequels usually aren't as good as originals. And as was mentioned in our most recent podcast episode, bread pudding isn't necessarily what the WG@TJ's team is craving when it's 90+ degrees and extremely humid. This is definitely more of a fall food in our minds. Yet for the sake of our loyal readers, and to be ahead of the Trader Joe's brand food product reviewing curve, we have boldly decided to check it out right now, in the middle of July...because we're intrepid criticasters like that. I just learned that word this morning. Thanks, Dictionary.com Word of the Day.

The preparation instructions for this product are very similar, if not identical, to that of the above-mentioned Pumpkin Bread Pudding. There's an optional overnight refrigerator thawing period, and then the preferred instructions have you heating this product in the microwave, although the oven is also listed as a viable alternative. 

I think the microwave is preferred because there's less danger of overcooking, and therefore less risk of drying out the product. On the other hand, it has recently come to my attention that some people prefer bread pudding to be crispy on the outside. I've never had it that way—TJ's or otherwise. I think the beauty of bread pudding is its unique gelatinous suppleness from top to bottom. 

And along those lines, this product was moist, soft, and nearly perfect texture-wise, just like its predecessor. That's probably the best feature of this product—that a period of thawing and a few minutes in the microwave can yield such amazingly authentic texture for a dessert that's fairly easy to mess up. I ate one piece straight out of the microwave, and it was great. It melted in my mouth. But like the pumpkin flavor, Sonia and I both agree that refrigerating the cooked bread pudding and snacking on it straight out of the fridge is also legit.

What isn't as legit is this product's flavor. Don't get me wrong, it isn't bad at all. But neither of us think it tastes like salted caramel. Sonia says it reminds her more of vanilla than caramel. I just think it's a vaguely sweet flavor, comparable to other "plain" bread puddings I've had. Maybe we were spoiled by the delectable pumpkin spices in this product's forerunner, or maybe we're just used to being bowled over by salted caramel flavor with goodies like TJ's Salted Caramel Gelato or Salted Caramel Chai, but we think the name of this product is slightly misleading in this case. We just want more salt and caramel. Is that too much to ask? What do you think?

Each of us gives this product three and a half stars.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Podcast Episode 4: Unexpected Cheddar

In this episode we talk about Trader Joe’s Uncured Bacon Ganache Bar, Dark Chocolate Covered Honey Grahams with Sea Salt, Salted Caramel Bread Pudding, and a few other new products we’ve seen on shelves. Plus, Russ shares his experience with TJ’s Ghost Chili Grinder.

Download: MP3 (25.4 MB)

Links to the products we talk about are available at www.letstalktjs.com/4/.

You can also listen by subscribing to Let’s Talk TJ’s on iTunes, Stitcher, or via RSS.

Opening Music: www.bensound.com

Special thanks to Marvo at The Impulsive Buy and thank YOU for listening!

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Honey Grahams with Sea Salt

On our last TJ's run, Sonia and I wanted something dessert-ish. And who knows—it might have been that very tiny part of me that's Jewish exerting some subconscious desire to be kosher again, but a pork candy bar just didn't sound all that appealing to me. Graham crackers, dark chocolate, and sea salt sounded like a much more promising option, so when we saw this brand new product, we quickly snagged it off the shelves. (But if you're a smoked salt and sweet swine fan like Russ, by all means, knock yourselves out.)

The title of this product says it all, at least as far as constituent parts go—but I think it's the sea salt in particular that rounds out this snack in a very special way. There are large granules on the outermost portion of the cookies, embedded in the dark chocolate, but big enough that you can clearly see them protruding from the otherwise smooth surface. In fact, I believe they're visible in our pic of the product. And flavor-wise, the sea salt crystals are very much a part of the attack. Upon first bite, the saltiness is present in spades, and it provides this beautiful balance to the bitterness of the cacao and the sweetness of the cane sugar and honey graham base. We've seen TJ's do great things with sea salt and dark chocolate before—quite a few times, actually—so many times that it would be difficult to link to each one individually. So I'll throw you guys this bone and link to the "Search This Blog" results for keywords "Sea Salt Dark Chocolate."

Sonia shared this product with her co-workers and got pretty much universally positive reactions. I, on the other hand, work from home and have no co-workers I can share with, unless you count the dogs. And they can't have any chocolate. Just as well. I'm selfish and don't like sharing anyway...particularly when it's something this tasty.

Texture-wise, the product is moderately crispy. Even under all that chocolate, the graham cracker still feels like a cracker. The sea salt actually adds a bit of extra crunch into the mix. Sonia tried an experiment with some leftover marshmallows we had, and she sandwiched them between two of these chocolate covered honey grahams to create a makeshift s'more. She enjoyed it much better than a traditional s'more and liked the added soft texture of the 'mallow.

Maybe it's because they were only sitting out on the counter for a few short hours, but the dark chocolate didn't melt that much in this summer heat. I'm not usually a huge fan of any chocolate in the summertime, particularly dark chocolate—but one thing I do crave is salt. I sweat like crazy and I always want salty snacks this time of year. And along those lines, these unique little cookies deliver.

Sonia liked them even more than I did. 4.5 from her. I'll throw out 4 stars.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Ganache Bar

Do yourself a favor, and hear me out on this:

Whatever you do, do not buy Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Ganache Bar.

Instead, allow me to buy each and every one of them out there. Heck, for only $1.99 each, it's at least a somewhat dreamable way for me to utilize the extra bedroom.

Believe me, this would be a service to all of you out there, because in all seriousness, there's only two viable outcomes. You will either: 1) fall totally in love with this candy bar, ruining all others for you for now and ever more, or 2) be totally and completely repulsed by them.

I'm in the first camp, in case that'd be a surprise to any of you. Once I caught wind of these, I knew I had to make a special trip to TJ's just to procure a handful for me, Sandy, and my coworkers to testdrive, and first chance I did, I skeedaddled right on over.

As among the first tasters (as of the time of writing this review, the bars have been available for less than 48 hours), I'm going to guess that these bacon boys will be a true love or hate item, with very few folks in the middle. Bacon and chocolate have been a known combo on the festival/flea market food circuit for years, but this is truly a unique item as far as I can tell.

Here's what I like: First, the dark chocolate. Most bacon/cocoa combos feature milk chocolate instead of dark, in order to play up the sweet/salty dichotomy. While generally I prefer even darker chocolate, 70% is still pretty nib-laden, and goes more for the savory jugular. Love it - it's about time someone pulled it off. Also, the "hint of smoked salt" - it's alderwood smoked salt, at that. That's a pretty nifty little touch that adds a great flourish at the end of the bite to make each nibble even that much more decadent.

What's going to make or break the bacon bar for you is the ganache filling. My original photo didn't do a great job capturing it, so here's a great one courtesy of Facebook superfan Amarantha Medici - each square there's a goopy, caramel-y ganache reservoir that remained soft and fluid even after chilling it in the firdge for over an hour. It's also where the bacon resides, but taste carefully. There's little itty bitty bacon shards, adding a slight, occasionally granule-y crunch, but that's not quite it, either - it's more baconlicious than that. After a few tastes and consulting the ingredients list, it became apparent to me what it is - bacon fat. Chocolate ganache, after all, is basically chocolate, cream and butter - replace the butter with bacon fat, did we? I think so.

The result? In my estimation, there's a well balanced flavor all the way through - savory dark chocolate, a little salt, a little smokiness, with some bacon undertones that hold it all together without overpowering it all. I had some coworkers try it, though, and some were outright repulsed, stating it was too bacon-y/too weird/too out there. There was more love than hate - one of them called his bite "piggy crack", while another one cracked a smile and declared his unabated happiness for the first time in three years I've known him, but I did get a few pretty adamant thumbs down as well.

As for Sandy....she'll be one of the few in the middle, I think. "It's not bad, but I wish this were more like a Nestle Crunch, with bigger bits of crunchy bacon, instead of like a Caramello," she said. I agree, more crunch would have been a welcome addition...but I really, really like how the flavors all came together that it's hard for me to argue too ardently. I haven't been this excited about a debut of a new Trader Joe's product in possibly all of eternity, and by in large, the bacon bar lived up to the hype I made up in my mind. I'm going 4.5, while the wife is going a few notches below.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Uncured Bacon Ganache Bar: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Israeli Couscous

Prior to spying this box on the shelves of a local TJ's, I wasn't aware of the existence of Israeli couscous. Regular couscous, yes. But I didn't know this other special version existed. Otherwise known as "pearl couscous" for it's shiny, spherical form, this type of couscous is popular in—you guessed it—Israel, where it is known as "ptitim." 

And since I'm fond of celebrating my 1/16th or so Jewishness, as I've mentioned before, I decided this inexpensive box ($2) of grain/pasta was a suitable selection for my next misadventure in foodie-hackery.

I was about to heat up the saucepan on the stove top when Sonia stopped me and encouraged me to go tend to our animal friends while she did the cooking. I'm pretty sure that's a subtle commentary on my culinary abilities, but she insisted that she just felt like cooking. And wow. Not only did she cook the couscous properly with a bit of olive oil, but she made a whole lovely Mediterranean-themed meal, complete with cucumber salad, hummus, and meat, as shown in the pic to the right.

Strangely, I enjoyed this "Ben-Gurion rice" significantly more than any normal couscous I'd ever had, while Sonia expressed the reverse. I liked the larger size, chewier texture, and lightly nutty flavor of these, while I've always felt as if regular couscous were just a notch above seasoned sawdust. Sonia just prefers her couscous smaller and less chewy I guess. Or maybe she's just not as in touch with her inner-Jew.

It's cheap, shelf-stable, kosher, vegetarian, and relatively high in fiber. It's most definitely not gluten-free...and it's not exactly a party food by itself. But it goes great with vegetables, hummus, fish, or poultry. If you're looking for a wheat-based alternative to rice or regular couscous, I've gotta say, I'm a fan. Four stars from me. Three from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Inside Out Carrot Cake Cookies

Hrmmm, let's see. Pennsylvania, Ohio, Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Maine, Massachusetts, Indiana, California, Utah, and now Michigan. Sandy and I have started a somewhat odd tradition of checking out Trader Joe's in different states when we have the chance just, well, because, I guess. As Pennsylvania residents under the regime of olden blue laws, there's some obvious privileges to out of state trips (especially NJ), but that's not completely it, either. There's the little, smaller differences, the unexpected stuff that makes it a little fun. Prime example: our trip to the Salt Lake City store seemed like it'd be ho-hum until it turned into perhaps our most memorable ever (you can hear the full story on our first podcast episode here!). Or sometimes it's just finding stuff that the local TJ's don't carry, like my favorite store bought tortillas which every TJ's except Pittsburgh carries, apparently.

We tacked Michigan on to our list with a stop at the Royal Oak store last week right before a Detroit Tigers - Pittsburgh Pirates game to grab a quick bite without being gouged at the stadium* and to procure some goodies to keep our adult and kiddie tummies happy for the night and next day for the way back home. Huuuge store there, biggest I've been in - almost the size of a regular grocery store! A stroll through the baked goods revealed the Trader Joe's Inside Out Carrot Cake Cookies, and having never seen them anywhere else, we couldn't resist.

An excellent call. I've always been a sucker for those Little Debbie oatmeal creme cookies, and these are in a very similar vein, except better. The cookie portion is a pretty classic carrot cake confection - shredded carrots, with some ample raisins and I swear there walnuts in there, too, even though they are not listed on the ingredients list....maybe I'm making that up, but if nuts are a concern, doublecheck before buying these. Of course, since the cookie has to do it's part to hold together with some cream filling, it's a little more rigid of a texture to the bite than regular carrot cake, but still, it's soft and chewy and fairly delectable in its brown sugary-cinnamony-carroty goodness. The sweet vanilla cream filling is pretty good and refreshing, as kind of an odd choice, perhaps. There's part of me that would have really liked more of a cream cheese frosting filler, but that'd make a pairing that's been done over and over again, so I'd like to say that vanilla was an inspired choice...but it's vanilla. Granted, it's really good vanilla, and definitely sweet, and melds well with the carrot cake cookies, but if going for something different than the tried-and-true. go all out. Maybe something like butterscotch and pecans. Vanilla's playing it pretty safe, I guess.

Speaking of nuts, that's what the product name drives me. There's nothing "inside out" about these cookies....because primarily, first and foremost, IT"S A COOKIE. Sandwich cookies are supposed to be exactly of the same structure as these - cookie outside, cream filling. It's cake inspired, and not a cake, where it's the frosting on the outside and cake inside the frosting. Maybe they were just naming these as "inside out" cookies in some sort of weird attempt to get a crossover marketing ploy with Eve 6, I don't know.

Anyways, the wife, the toddler, and I all greatly enjoyed these cookies. The six pack cost us something like three or four bucks, which for a bunch of tasty cookies the size of these is a pretty good deal. I mean, look at the picture...these are big cookies with a huge swath of filling. On a few occasions I had only half of one, which was more than enough. Sandy gives them a four, noting she also wishes the filling was a different flavor while acknowledging its tastiness, while I concur with her assessment completely. just hope we don't have to drive back to Michigan to find them again.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Inside Out Carrot Cake Cookies: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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* Quick note: Comerica Park - what a stadium! I've been to at least a dozen different ballparks now, some of them pretty ho-hum (like Nationals Stadium in DC or Citizens Bank Park in Philly), while Comerica Park rivals maybe only PNC Park here in the 'burgh for overall awesomeness. Loved the tiger statues, and as a family we also really enjoyed the carousel and baseball Ferris wheel. PNC Park has a clear location/viewing advantage - from inside the stadium you can easily look out over the Allegheny River, the Clemente bridge, and right into downtown Pittsburgh where when the evening light hits it just right, it looks unreal. Kinda better than just glaring at Ford Field. - but other than that, and some hometown pride, Comerica is just as good if not better.  

Trader Joe's Vegan Tikka Masala

It's never been the taste of vegetarian or vegan foods that's kept me from swearing off animal products entirely. It's primarily the cost and lack of availability of viable meat-free alternatives. And although arguments can be made that vegetarian diets may even be cheaper than meatful diets, we're a long ways off from being able to purchase meat-free corn dogs from the average street vendor or chickenless nuggets from the Mickey D's on the corner.

That being said, Trader Joe's is one of those rare places where meaty foods and meatless foods are pretty much on a level playing field. There are plenty of options in both camps, and strict vegetarians probably don't feel like they're missing out on all that much. This product is a prime example. TJ's is a great place for meat eaters to discover that Meatless Mondays won't kill them—or that they can be "part time vegans." In fact, we've already reviewed a vegetarian tikka masala dish on this blog, as well as a non-vegetarian one.

Like the previous two tikka masala dishes, this one has some amazing sauce. It's full of Indian spices and flavor, it's creamy, and it's mildly hot. It's almost as good as masala sauce I've had from actual Indian restaurants. The rice is your basic basmati—the kind we usually see in these frozen Indian dishes from TJ's—flavored with oil and cumin, and as always, it blends very well with the sauce and other elements. 

The vegan meat substitute was fairly neutral in flavor, which allowed the sauce to be the dominant taste of the dish. If anything, the vegan chunks tasted just ever so slightly soy-ish, with a breadiness about them as well. It wasn't an unpleasant flavor at all—on the contrary, it was delicate and satisfying, despite a decided lack of potency. 

Texture-wise, the meatless chunks did a decent job of imitating white meat chicken pieces, if but perhaps a mite bit more chewy—certainly not to the point that I would complain. In fact, I've definitely had actual chicken that was far more rubbery than this on more than one occasion. I should note at this point that I did heat my entree in the microwave, although conventional oven instructions are given. Even though I've become far more proficient at traditional cooking in the past few years, my rule of thumb is that if it comes in a plastic tray with clear film on top, I'll go ahead and nuke it...or if I'm really hungry and don't want to wait the extra 20 minutes. In this case, it was both.

$3.49 at our local TJ's, six minutes in the microwave, and a reasonable calorie count for tikka masala...this gets a thumbs up from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Almonds

Marriage is a great thing. Certainly, it can be challenging, but usually, for Sandy and me, at least, it can be pretty funny. Especially the things we squabble about. As of the night I am writing this, we have been married for 2049 days. This means that at least 2000 times, Sandy has glared and me and growled "You know, I WILL organize the pots and pans cupboard, and YOU WILL learn to put them away properly." The only days she hasn't said this: vacations, Christmas, anniversaries, one or two of my birthdays, the days our kids were born, and a random Tuesday in 2012. This morning, when I got the traditional stinkeye yet again for just tossing something in wherever, I can't help but look at her and smile as she got madder and madder. "It isn't funny!" she exclaimed as she walked across the room to give me a well-deserved peg in the arm. Of course this just made me laugh harder, which finally got her to crack. Love it.

Another thing I did that made her mad recently: I ate her baggie of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Almonds. Didn't matter it had been in the fridge for two weeks and I thought I made the safe assumption she had forgotten about it. Didn't matter that, when busted, I was hard at work patching up the plaster on our third floor so it'll soon be the TV/family room. She wanted her bath with her book, her iced water and her chocolate almonds, and HOW DARE I deprive her of that. Guilty.

Eh well. These are some pretty tasty little choco-nutties, well worth the spousal ire I drew. That being said, they're pretty straightforward, without any fancy little wrinkles. Chances are, if you're imagining a typical dark chocolate almond, that's exactly what these TJ offerings taste like. There's a thin soft coat of bittersweet chocolate enveloping each crunchy nut, presenting a smooth bite that's pretty palatably pleasing. To my taste, the chocolate seems a lot more sweet than bitter, but I've grown pretty accustomed to the super dark stuff, going as far as beginning to enjoy raw cocoa nibs, so my scale might be a little off from yours. Regardless, for a potent little snack that satisfies some candy craving with some protein oomph to keep you going, it's tough to beat these, especially for just 99 cents.

Quick word: Nuts + dark chocolate = lots of fat and calories. Including saturated. These are no exception. My take: I've lost significant weight in the past year on a Paleo diet, which these kinda almost fit into, sort of. It depends on what camp you put dark chocolate in - I give it a pass. Not once in the past year have I sat down and counted calories or doublechecked how much fat I'd eaten in one day, and there's been numerous times I've had more than the couple handfuls of almonds or more chocolate than what's covering these nuts in a day. If the fat and calories concern you, make note and choose consumption accordingly. But for me I don't consider them a dietbreaker, or even that much of a cheat, as long as (like anything else) I consume them in moderation.

Anyways, both Sandy and I love them, and to try and keep the peace, last shopping trip I bought four bags of them, two for me, two for her. So far, so good. I might even be nice and share my last bag with her, especially when she starts up about those pots and pans again. Distraction is key for survival. Double fours from us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Almonds: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Podcast Episode 3: The Worst Trader Joe's Products We've Ever Tried

This link will take you to the show notes.

And here's a direct MP3 link.

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Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bars

Here's a question I found myself pondering the other night while chomping through a Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bar: What, exactly, is the divining criteria used to determine whether or not a frozen summer treat will be served on a stick? Is it potential mess factor? Structural integrity? Ease and comfort? I'm not really sure. I get why ice cream sandwiches (whether cookie or wafer ones) are stickless - there's a built-in easy way to hold them that unless you're a toddler (or me) it won't create a mess. Also, Klondike bars with no wooden pole make sense - although the potential mess is through the roof, I think a stick would only exacerbate since it's a big ol' quickly melting rhombus. But, other than that, and excluding ice cream cones (duh) and the cheapie colored sugar water freezy pops, pretty much any ice cream bar or popsicle or anything is a perfect candidate to be plunked on a stick, right?

Except....these TJ mango cream bars don't have a stick. They're prop-less and pole-less. Instead, it's just the bar itself, lonely, in a little wrapper just waiting to get all sticky and melty in your little grubs, unless you actually take the care to try to eat it from the wrapper, which seems silly to me. Really, these should be plopped on a little post.

Thankfully, though, I won't let that skewer my perception too much. In all, these do make a tidy little treat. Each bar is about 75-80% typical frozen mango-esque popsicle, with the a little side section of smooth chilly cream that complements the rest of the bar pretty well. I'd personally like if the cream and fruit part were a little more intermingled so each could be present in each bite. Regardless, the mango tastes all summer-y and sugary and all that enough by itself to work, but the cream really adds a nice touch to tie it all together.

A small side note: Not liking the ingredient list, which I neglected to doublecheck before purchase, mostly because so many TJ's products don't have it that I take it for granted: glucose syrup, with corn in the parentheses. There's a lot of noise online clamoring about glucose vs high fructose corn syrup (here's one link I found - can't vouch for its truthiness) but...I don't know. It sounds too much the same to me, in that tt's added sugar, and in some sort of form that's different from the sugar already mentioned in the list. Seems like a lot of extra sugar, when I think God made mangoes taste the best, personally - nothing extra needed.

Anyways, both Sandy and I, and our almost three year old (time flies!) enjoy them enough as is. They're smallish enough to perfectly sized for the kiddo and to not feel like too guilty an indulgence for us big kids. There are other varieties of these bars out there, like raspberry or coffee ones, that I'm sure we'll try before the summer's up. The box of six desserts cost no more than a couple bucks, making it a relatively painless pick up. It'd just be nice if there were a little something that made them a little more special or unique, but alas, these bars are a pretty solid choice as is. Not bad at all.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mango & Cream Bars: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Coconut Water

When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally bring home whole coconuts from the grocery store. I used to love the water that came straight out of the coconut, and I'd chug it down just as quickly as it flowed from the fruit. Back then, we erroneously called that liquid coconut milk. It was actually coconut water, same as this product. But I swear, in my memories, the liquid was much milkier and much whiter than the beverage now known as "coconut water." I also remember it being much sweeter than this coconut water. 

I'm not sure what I can attribute those discrepancies to. Perhaps it just tasted much fresher since it was literally only seconds out of the coconut. Or maybe it's one of those dimensional shift conundrums I've been reading about. In my home universe, we read Berenstein Bears books, Nelson Mandela died in the 1980's, and coconut milk came out of tapped coconuts instead of coconut water—not to mention Joe Cocker's "With A Little Help From My Friends" intro to The Wonder Years was pretty good, unlike the one that plays during the opening credits now. Actually, I'm pretty sure that's a syndication/copyright issue rather than a dimensional shift, but it's still pretty terrifying nonetheless. Seriously, if you have Netflix streaming, go play the beginning of an episode of The Wonder Years now. I'll wait for you here.

Weird, huh?

Know what else is weird? Sonia LOVES this coconut water stuff. She says it tastes much better than the Maple Water and it does at least as good a job at hydrating her. She often uses the term "sock water" when describing a beverage she doesn't like—as in water that's been used to clean dirty socks. I might be tempted to describe this coconut juice as just a small step up from sock water.

It's not that Trader Joe's offering is any worse than other pre-packaged coconut water. I'm just not really a fan of any coconut water since I transitioned into this peculiar universe—and likewise, Sonia generally likes any coconut water. Somewhere in one of our podcast episodes, I said something along the lines of, "If I were forced at gunpoint to choose between the Maple Water and the Coconut Water, I'd take the Maple Water." It's true.

Anyway, Sonia gives this product 4.5 stars, and I'm gonna give it 2.5. That still yields a respectable score of 7 out of 10, but be advised, if you're not a huge fan of other pre-packaged coconut waters, you probably won't be a fan of this, and vice versa. 

Now bring on the onslaught of "You're an idiot but your wife isn't" style comments that I've become so accustomed to these past 5 1/2 years ;)

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Pot Pie Ravioli

TJ's has done Chicken Pot Pie before, but never quite like this. In the past, we've seen them offer us Bites (please do not read that review) and quite recently, we sampled a delicious British/East Indian pot pie of sorts. As Russ reminded us, it wasn't all that good-for-you. But let's face it, when a dish has more than a whole day's worth of saturated fat in a single serving, it's never the nutrition facts that are going to redeem the dish—it's that rich, delicious flavor.

Thankfully, this product has good chicken pot pie flavor, and it won't send you to an early grave—at least not as early a grave. There are still a good bit of calories, fat, and sodium. But compared to the Balti Pies, this is diet food. And again, it's fairly filling like a real pot pie. It's all there: the carrots, the peas, the chicken, the white gravy sauce. It's like there's a whole balanced meal inside each little square. The only thing different here is the "crust." It's traditional old ravioli style pasta. And somehow, it works. It works quite well, in fact. Each element wound up cooked to perfection by following the simple stove top heating instructions. There was no user error this time. Er, I mean, not that I've ever heated anything incorrectly. (Again, I must remind you all to NOT read that Chicken Pot Pie Bites review.)

When Sonia and I found out they stuck chicken pot pie in raviolis, we started arguing about what sauce to use, if any, before we even saw the package at the store. Sonia was leaning toward a white Alfredo type sauce, while I was thinking a traditional marinara might work. Turns out we were both wrong. This pasta works best with nothing but a little olive oil. Reader Haley suggests butter, rosemary, thyme, and grated parmesan on top. We'll have to try that next time, Haley. Thanks for the tip! Any other serving suggestions are welcome in the comments section below.

Sonia found herself wishing for more chicken inside the pasta, but still really enjoyed the flavor overall. I agree. It's a hearty, all-American type taste wrapped up in little raviolis. Very unique. It's about $4 for a two-serving package. Four stars from Sonia and three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Bacon Cheddar Ranch Dip

Gotta admit, I was having a little fun last week. While Nathan's review subject of the curried chicken pot pie-type things was getting a little gruff (and rightfully so) for the abject dearth of redeemable nutritional value, mine for the super-chic and healthy riced cauliflower was flying high and wide. It's still kinda funny to me, how popular the riced cauliflower is, popular enough to not be available again until July (according to some rumors I have heard) so supply can attempt to keep up with demand. I still have a bag of it in my freezer and I'm wondering how much I could sell it on eBay for right now.

Well, while basking in any sort of perceived glow of eating healthy and all that, I kinda failed to mention to you all, until now, that Sandy and I were currently scooping our way through our second container of Trader Joe's Bacon Cheddar Ranch Dip in as many weeks. Busted, both in my pride and in my gut.

Listen, there's some things that I'd *like* to be able to say in full conviction about this particular dip. As alluded to on our latest podcast (subscribe now!), I never have been, nor will never be, a ranch dressing kinda guy. Or pretty much any salad dressing, or most condiments aside from salsa and hot sauce for that matter. I'm just not. So, the fact that this dip is, not surprisingly, about 90% full-on ranch flavored is kinda a turnoff for me. The ranchiness seems even more ramped up by some factor - not sure if that's the sour cream's doing or not - but it's amongst the ranchiest of ranches I've ever had. It drowns out any flavor from the shredded cheddar, in fact. And as for the bacon - well, it just makes everything taste saltier, even though there's not that much bacon here to speak of. Look closely at the ingredients: it's listed under the "contains 2% or less of the following" part. I'm sorry, but when something says "bacon" as the first word in its name, I expect a lot of it. This is America, dangit.

I'd also *like* to say that Sandy would be responsible for the vast majority of its consumption.

Truth is, I ate pretty close to my fair share with some veggies or plain tortilla chips. Sandy probably ate more than me (I was busy on a few occasions with a pretty tasty guacamole), but to insinuate I ate none of it would be a boldfaced lie. This means I couldn't have held the dip in absolute contempt like I'd like to. I think part of it is, I was trying to like it more than I do. But I just don't. Too much ranch, not enough bacon and there's for all intents and purposes almost no cheese. I wouldn't buy it again, but if Sandy were to get it again, I'd help her out with it here and there.

There's no question in Sandy's mind: it's perfect. "Mmmm" is about all I could make out from her before she almost drooled off Homer Simpson-style. It's kinda funny, I don't think I've seen her be all that enamored with ranch dressing, so there must be something clicking about this particular combo for her. I'm just not picking it up, but, well, it's not as awful as thought, despite how horrible the stats are and how generic Burger King-y the packaging is. I'll give it a half(clogged)hearted 2.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Bacon Cheddar Ranch Dip: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Spring Premier Cheddar Cheese

It's about high time the Rodgers clan reviewed some cheddar cheese on this blog...despite the fact that we don't know anything about cheese. I mean sure, all of us here at What's Good at Trader Joe's? are "foodie-hacks," but I think our 'Burgh-dwelling counterparts have a much higher level of expertise than we do, if only because they've braved cheeses like Chocolate Cheddar, Chile Cheddar, and Cheddar with Caramelized Onions. In light of those selections, I think you can say that Sonia and I played it safe with this one.

It was the "spotlight selection" at the free sample table on our last TJ's run. The friendly gentleman behind the counter explained that the cheese came from the very first milking of the spring season, and that the grass that the cows eat at this time of year is soft and fresh and the cows are happy because the long winter is over and yadda yadda yadda this is a very special cheese. As we inhaled our samples, there was indeed a happy tingling sensation that might have come from the cheese yielded by particularly happy cows.

It reminded me of an ad campaign in California that goes something like, "Good cheese comes from happy cows, and happy cows come from California." My acquaintances from Wisconsin were all thoroughly offended by this ad campaign, because, they argued, their Wisconsonian cows are every bit as happy as these chauvinistic Californian cows. It has recently been brought to my attention that cows from Vermont are also extraordinarily happy—and it dawned on me just today that they must be joyous indeed, since their milk is the milk that brings us Ben and Jerry's delightful treats. Plus, cows in my native Pennsylvania are happy (I know this because I have met some of them), and I must point out that since this product is imported from England, that English cows, too, at least in the springtime, are quite chuffed as well, I say.

But back to the review. This cheddar is soft and creamy as the label suggests, and both Sonia and I felt it was on the sweet side, as far as most cheddars go anyway—but then again, we don't really know much about cheese. It reminded Sonia of the little Babybel cheddar cheeses that come wrapped in red wax. The bottom line is, we liked it. Happy cows = happy cheese = happy humans. Four stars each.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Podcast: Favorite Trader Joe’s Ice Creams

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