Trader Joe's Pumpkin Spice Caramel Corn

Labor Day is usually considered the cultural end to summer here in the US. School starts, summer schedules end, and most folks have taken whatever summer vacations they're going to take. The technical, astronomical end of summer is most definitely the autumnal equinox, this year falling on September 22. 

But personally, I consider fall officially underway when two things have happened: I've consumed a new pumpkin or pumpkin spice product from Trader Joe's, and the weather gets a little cooler. After a high of 92 degrees yesterday, yet a high of only 78 degrees today here in South Jersey, I'd say there's been a marked shift in air temps. That's not to say there won't be a few more warm days ahead, but for the most part, it's time to wear heavier clothing—both to keep warm, and to cover up the extra pounds I'll gain sampling most of the 60+ new and old seasonal pumpkin products arriving at TJ's.

As for our first new pumpkin product of the season? We're off to a pretty good start. 

Highly reminiscent in appearance and texture to June's Mango Coconut Caramel Corn, this is TJ's fall-themed follow-up to that summery treat. We enjoyed that previous product quite a bit, as did most of our readers. It's still crispy, crunchy caramel corn—not too waxy or stiff. But this version has a few tricks up its sleeve.

First, the taste is nice. The pumpkin spice flavor is there, but errs on the side of subtlety. It's sweet more than spicy, and slightly more caramel than pumpkin, I'd say. Pumpkin seeds add a nice nuttiness to the product and blend well with the salty aspects of the corn. 

The packaging alleges there are walnuts in this product, but neither Sonia nor I have seen much of them. I do think I've tasted hints of walnut from time to time. Maybe the walnuts are crushed into tiny bits and have simply eluded identification thus far. Or perhaps these reclusive nuts have congregated at the bottom of the bag. We'll let you know when we get there. (You won't have to wait long.) 

Rather than floating freely, the pumpkin seeds are "glued" to the corn pieces with sugar and caramel, so you don't need to worry about mixing seeds in with your mouthfuls of caramel corn in incorrect ratios. Trader Joe's has already measured them out for you, and they did a pretty good job of it in my estimation.

All in all, it's a well-balanced flavor. If anything, Sonia and I think it could use just a tad more pumpkin spice taste, but we won't complain about it as is. Double fours on this product, and happy fall to all of you.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Ginger Turmeric Herbal Tea

"It's kinda weird to drink something that smells like Indian food," Sandy stated the other night before sipping her first steaming mug of Trader Joe's Organic Ginger Turmeric Herbal Tea.

Yeah...ginger tea? Of course. But turmeric? That's a pretty classic staple for most Indian chow I'm familiar with. So how's this going to work?

First off: it's very aromatic. Not in an overly flagrant or fragrant kinda way...but when you cath a whiff, there's a lot going on. The aforementioned ginger and turmeric, of course, but there's a good citrus essence as well. There's a little something else, too, a "darker" element to give the aroma some depth, which I presume are the licorice and pepper...

...so yeah, it kinda smells like what the ingredients says the tea is made of. Nice thing is, while all components can be individually detected, it comes across as a very nice, balanced cuppa tea.

Wish it tasted that way as well.

The sips start out pleasantly enough, with the dominant taste being a fairly mild ginger dose. The turmeric is there more in a support role, with the orange peel adding a nice arc. But then...it hits. That aforementioned licorice and pepper. Listen, I love licorice and anise and all that much more than the average guy, but it just seems a little out of place, perhaps, and gets punctuated by the pepper. It's not harsh at first, but about halfway through the cup, it's about all I can taste, as if my mild cuppa tea slowly got polluted by a flavor overstaying its welcome.

It probably doesn't help that I'm more of a coffee than tea kinda guy...I rarely drink anything other than black coffee, water, or whiskey in fact. So, quite literally, this just might not be my cup of tea. Sandy, though, enjoys it quite a bit. More power to her. "It's a great fall tea," she said last night after the kiddos went down and a cool almost autumnal breeze blew in the kitchen window. "I dig it." After I finish my current cup (gave it a second taste to confirm my thoughts) I'll probably be done with it. But for $2.49 for a box of 20 bags, and the possible health benefits of turmeric, I can give it a little more appreciation.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Ginger Turmeric Herbal Tea: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coffee Mochi

Trader Joe's can and will turn anything into a mochi ice cream flavor—from basic flavors like chocolate to double mango to pumpkin pie, we've seen them run the gamut. We haven't seen mushroom mochi ice cream yet, but just to be clear, we're not asking for it, Big Joe. Not at all. Cookie butter mochi, on the other hand...

Now let's shift gears and focus on the product at hand, shall we? My major problem with this mochi is the same problem I have with traditional coffee ice cream: it actually tastes like coffee. I mean sure, it's kinda sweet and creamy, but the overwhelming flavor is that of dark, earthy coffee beans. I'll drink coffee, if I must, for its caffeine content, but I much prefer energy drinks (ones without high fructose corn syrup) for my morning wake-up beverage. Among coffee drinkers, that fact generally arouses suspicion, outrage, and indignation. Why would a non-coffee-drinker even review a coffee-flavored product?

Because I'll defer to my coffee-appreciating wife's opinion on this one. She liked these a lot. The texture is just like any other mochi we've reviewed: a soft, chewy, rice-based shell, a layer of smooth, cold ice cream below that, and similar to the aforementioned mango mango mochi, there's a glob of liquidy goo in the middle. I personally didn't feel like the "saucy mocha center" added much, but Sonia thought it added a nice rich flavor and extra creaminess to the product.

She loved the taste of this product because she loves the taste of coffee. The flavor of the mocha filling reminded her of Original Roast Coffee Rio Candy, which is apparently sold at some Trader Joe's locations.

Even though I didn't appreciate the taste quite as much as my better half, we do agree on one thing: this mochi is rich and intense enough that just one or two pieces at a time is more than sufficient for one sitting. Sonia gives this product four stars. My disdain for coffee might have led me to give this product a fairly low score, but I did say I'd defer to my wife on this one, for the benefit of all you sophisticated coffee connoisseurs...so I'll go with three and a half to make sure this falls squarely in our "really darn good" category.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Marinated Rack of Lamb with Herbs

After yesterday's review slightly toeing the line of religious imagery. today's review will steer clear. There's a lot of lambs in the religious pasture. But to be fair, Sandy and I also partook of those three cheese wafers, and also came away with the unshakeable impression of communion wafers. The only thing I'd like to add is, I've been to Communion performed, by a very serious, straight-faced pastor...with a hot dog bun. There was a slight miscommunication that week for who was bringing the bread. Classic.

Sandy and I also tried out the new Trader Joe's Marinated Rack of Lamb with Herbs this past week. There's also the oddly placed and/or punctuated "fully cooked" part of the product name...are the herbs the fully cooked part? The lamb? The whole shebang? Well, let's drop the slightly premium price of $15.99 a pound to find out!

As much as we both love lamb...a lamb rack is not a cut of meat we're overly familiar with. See: that price point. The few times we venture into lamb, we're more lamb chops/lamb roast/gyro kinda folks. So what I'm about to say about the meat itself, not sure how much it is intrinsically indicative for the particular cut versus this TJ branded box. But...there's not very much meat at all. Once we got it on our dinner plates, our meat looked like mostly bones, with a lot of fat and sinew intertwined in there. I'd say we each got maybe three or four reasonable bites of lamb meat, then the rest was picking and baby bites before kinda surrendering. At a certain point, the visual analysis showed that the effort wasn't worth the payoff.

But what meat was on there...soft, tender, pink, delicious. Despite its nearly raw appearance, the lamb was fully cooked via the sous-vide method before we ever got our hands on it. Very savory, and the herbs added a great little smidge of flavor, especially some mild garlic, without overpowering the natural goodness of the meat. You can't have that much fat without some natural juicy goodness, which really shone through.

There's a couple oddities I think are worth note. First: So. Much. Packaging. The lamb comes vacuum packed...inside a box so relatively large I'm surprised it didn't say "Some Settling May Occur"...that is in turn shrinkwrapped. The conspiracy theorist in me thinks that's to give the impression that there's much more meat in there than there actually is, so as to make the price point more appealing. Could be true, can't prove it's not. Also, the prep method: Heat in oven for 35 minutes (on a hot summer night? No way) or microwave then pan sear? Odd. We went the second route, and though not the nuke wizards the Rodgers are, I think we succeeded.

This probably won't be a repeat buy. Which is kinda a shame. I get that it's lamb, fancifully (and may I add skillfully) prepared, with some major convenience factor built in, and it's delicious, so I appreciate it all...but for paying $13 and change for what amounts to a few bites, can't say I'm completely satisfied, either. Wife is in the same boat. Oh well. At least we had a quiet small fancy dinner together, just the two of us, before it quickly devolved into some animalistic bone gnawing. Three each.   

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Marinated Rack of Lamb with Herbs: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 3 Cheese Wafers

Holy Eucharist. The Lord's Supper. Body of Christ shed for you. "Thin & crisp for cheese & snacking..." and maybe for Holy Communion as well.

The only thing about these crackers that doesn't scream "communion wafers" is the very faint cheese flavor. And honestly, I'd be surprised if there isn't at least one church using these during worship services somewhere in this country. I've seen everything from homemade white bread to animal crackers serve as altar bread—and at least one group thought of using Doritos for a similar purpose. 

Apparently, the three cheeses present here are cheddar, parmesan, and mozzarella. But the three titles that come to mind when eating these crispy critters are "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

Sonia was raised Roman Catholic, and I was raised Lutheran, or "White Catholic," as we're known in certain Latino circles, so it's really hard not to think of those bland yet sacred discs of...I-don't-know-what that we had when we partook of that blessed sacrament. Even the little raised pattern on these crackers is reminiscent of what we both remember. TJ's version displays little triangles all over them, which arguably could represent the Holy Trinity.

Texture-wise, again, I almost feel silly saying it, but they're exactly like communion wafers. I would have guessed that the ones I grew up with were rice-based, although these crackers are apparently made with wheat flour. They're very soft, yet brittle and crispy, and they melt in your mouth quite quickly.

Flavor-wise, I mentioned there is only a subtle hint of cheese flavor in my opinion. They're virtually flavorless by themselves. I felt that they went well with the recently-reviewed Jalapeño and Honey Chevre, but only because they didn't try to compete with the amazing flavor of that cheese. On their own, as a snack, these crackers aren't much to speak of. The three distinct cheese flavors are so subtle that you have to have a bit of faith to believe they're really there.

I'm tempted to leave you with some play on scripture that starts, "As often as you eat these crackers, eat them in remembrance of me," or something like that, but even though I'm not as churchy as I used to be, I'm still not a huge fan of blasphemy in all its colorful modern forms, so I'll steer clear of such wordplay out of respect for the Big Guy. No, not Big Joe. The other big guy.

Four stars from Sonia, who's anxious to try these in a big bowl of tomato soup. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jalapeño and Honey Chevre

This might be my favorite cheese in the world right now. The taste zings across your tongue like a bolt of lightning. I feel like I hadn't ever truly tasted a jalapeño pepper until I had this cheese. The tang from the chevre, the sweetness of the honey, and the heat from the peppers set one another off so perfectly—in a manner I'd never have imagined. 

But beyond just the heat of the peppers, you can taste the green, planty, earthy part of the peppers, too. There's a miraculous way the goat cheese allows you to taste it separately from the spice of the jalapeno. Yet the cheese is surprisingly sweet. It does taste like real honey.

Although I don't want to downplay the heat, because it is significant. This cheese is not for the faint-of-heart. The fire is there right from the first bite, but it also builds up on the tongue in a subtle, yet powerful way. After a number of bites in a row, you need to breathe through your mouth for a moment to cool it down, maybe take a swig of whatever beverage you're enjoying, and hold for a few beats before going back to the cheese. But don't get me wrong, it's not too hot. It's just right if you ask me.

We had it with some nice light crackers, neutral in flavor. I wouldn't want to pair this cheese with anything too strong because the main attraction should most definitely be the flavor of this amazing chevre. Sonia thinks it might go well with some kind of lightly-sweet honey bread. I'd eat this stuff with anything as long as it's relatively muted, flavor-wise. 

Once upon a time, I may have slapped a different TJ's chevre product with an unusually low score, and it may have been suggested that I don't appreciate goat cheese. Au contraire. I'm just not huge into goat cheese for dessert. Despite its sweetness, this cheese, at least in my mind, is a complex, savory side dish or appetizer that deserves a perfect five stars. Sonia gives it four and a half.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs

There's really not a whole lot to Trader Joe's Semi-Dried Green Figs. Nothing added or subtracted, but simply a fig, partially dried, and frozen. That's it. That could be the end of the review pretty much right there. But that's not how we roll...because while they do "taste...similar to fresh fruit" they do feel a little different. Had to leave out the "amazingly" because that's a bit too strong of a statement.

Anyways, if you're already familiar with their tried and true semi-dried formula first tested out on apricots, you can expect something similar here.  Those particular fruity tidbits have become a family snacktime favorite around here for 75% of our clan - I don't care about them one way or another, but Sandy, and particularly the kids, can polish off a bag for lunch. In fact, it was those apricots we were looking for when we found the figs and figured to assess them instead.

For taste...yes,  a fig. What we you expecting, a rutabaga? Tastes like a fig. The feel, though? I'm a dried fig aficianado - everytime we go to Costco I need to get me a bag, it lasts me maybe 10 days. I'd say these are much more similar to fresh figs, except I had those recently...too soft, too fleshy, too wiggly, too...I don't even know the word. That was another Costco purchase, and we made our way through the Montana-sized package, but with much less gusto. So I guess these fall fairly squarely in the middle. There's not the tough, chewy, fibrous bite of dried, but not the super soft mouthfeel of fresh. The seeds maintain their crispy qualities as well for a nice textural variant.

Sandy prefers these semi-dried guys straight from the freezer, because she's a little odd, but even when thawed a bit they retain a lot of their middlin' qualities. The kids seem to like them to, maybe not as much as the apricots, but their little chompers have less work to do than with dried, and I couldn't get them (or Sandy) to eat their fair share of fresh. Not a bad purchase for $2.99, we bought two bags and will happily finish them and likely go back for more.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Semi Dried Green Figs: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Blended Scotch Whisky

There's no such thing as vacation with small kids. It's just taking the show on the road.

I'm not sure where (if anywhere) I got that from, but those were the words I uttered a little over a week ago when my younger, kidfree boss wished me and the family a happy vacation. And that's pretty much how our extended weekend trip to Chicago went - four full days of family fun, sure, but all sorts of little kid hijinks, some with bodily fluids and byproducts involved, frustration, and weak moments. But overall, very good, highlighted by our family's first trip to Wrigley Field, despite the Buccos losing YET AGAIN and us buying tickets for seats that don't exist.*

Coincidentally, when booking a hotel, I didn't aim to find one right around the corner from a Trader Joe's, much less one we had to walk by everytime we hit up the Metro. But as Big Joe have it, there it was. And in an even bteer turn of fate, thank God for the sensible lawmakers of Chicago and Illinois who make buying things like Trader Joe's Blended Scotch Whisky readily available for sale, because man, after a vacation like this, Sandy and I both really needed a drink.

Blended Scotch whisky isn't all too fancy a drink to begin with. I've yet to find one that's silky smooth, sweetly palatable, and not overtly medicinal, like one of their pricier Highland single malt brethren. Such is the case here - harsh, burny, strong, very alcohol-y tasting. Some other quick takes I've read mention noting flavors ranging from apples to gasoline - I can't speak to those specifics, but, well, sure. Even while fully anticipating a strong inital encounter, I had to cough one or twice after the first sip or two. yes, you can clip off the corner of my man card.

I do prefer to drink my hard stuff on the rocks, so I will note there is a significant mellowing out as the ice melts. But there's still a significant residual burn, and perhaps this is now me being officially in my mid-30s...this is strong stuff. 80 proof. I swear I've had just as stiff if not stiffer beverages, but on both occasions I have partaken of this bottle, I feel like I've felt it a little more than I should.

I will mention another plus: it's cheap. Back here in good ol' Pennsylvania, I'm accustomed to paying at least $15 for 750mL's of the cheapie stuff. This? A full, vibrant liter, in all its metric system glory... for only $11.99. Now that's something I can stand behind. I'd pay that for some whisky to sip once or twice a week for sure, even with the tradeoff for not quite topnotch quality.

Sandy took a small sip or two and, surprisingly to me, didn't spit it right out. "Not awful," she said, although she's looking up some good lookin' mixed drink recipes for herself. Me? I'll just keep drinkin' it straight, because it is kinda growing on me a little bit. Not great, not awful, and tough to argue with the price - all for an inexpensive way of getting the job done. That pretty much sums it all up right there.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blended Scotch Whisky: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* I bought tickets from an online broker. Section 509, row 9, seats 13 thru 16. We get to Section 509, row 9...there's no seat 13. They stop at seat 12, and the seat next to it is renumberred (112, I think) denoting it is in a different section. I asked fans, seat ushers...there's no seat 13, 14 15, or 16 anywhere. We ended up sitting in a relatively empty row and no one bothered us so it turned out okay. Still...

Trader Joe's Smoked Salmon Bacon

For the most part, Sonia and I both love salmon, and we both love Trader Joe's. But when unusual salmon products pop up at TJ's, we've found that they're always a bit of a gamble. The WG@TJ's team has seen everything from two kinds of salmon jerky to bagged pasta with salmon to salmon pastrami—and that's just scratching the surface. Some of those products got the thumbs up, and some went straight back to TJ's for a no-hassle refund.

Now I love turkey bacon, and I was quite eager to try yet another "meat" turned into bacon, so this seemed like a logical purchase, despite a spotty salmon track record. No, not spotted salmon...I meant...ugh, nevermind.

As far as traditional bacon lovers go, they're probably not gonna love this. Most "normal" bacon fanatics tolerate turkey bacon, at best. And this is yet a step further from pork bacon.

But on the plus side, it's not revolting. At least we didn't think so. This might be a pescatarian's dream come true.

This bacon has a peculiar texture, both crispy and slightly chewy. Sonia thought it seemed like a synthetic mouthfeel—almost like a plastic intended for eating. The cooking instructions call for heating in a "lightly-oiled" pan, so the grease-factor of the finished product will depend on just how "lightly" you oiled that pan. I may have erred on the side of "moderate" oiling since the fish is significantly leaner than most bacon. If traditional bacon is naturally fatty and greasy, it's far less dependent upon added oils for flavor. I think the couple extra drops of olive oil I added helped the taste and maybe the texture, too. Also, I wouldn't say the product ever "browned" per se like the packaging suggests it might, but rather, it simply turned a darker shade of pink.

The "smoked" flavor in the salmon does approximate that of traditional smoked bacon to some extent. I actually found it quite pleasant. There's not a tremendous amount of fishiness, but I mean, it's salmon, so there is some, particularly at the finish. The product smells like fish, too, but not overwhelmingly so. It's salty and savory and again, in my case, a bit oily.

Sonia said she wanted to try the product raw and treat it like salted, smoked lox and have it with a bagel or something just to see what it was like. To date, neither she nor I have actually been adventurous enough to do this, though.

At five bucks per package, it's not cheap, but then I guess they aren't exactly giving away regular bacon these days, either. Score-wise, I think we'll slap this puppy with double three and a halfs.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

(Projected score for traditional bacon lovers: 0 out of 10)

Trader Joe's Vanilla Almond Spiced Chai

I've reviewed a lot of chai products these past few years. Chai here, chai there, chai, chai everywhere. Before her untimely departure from this earth last year, my mother even jumped on board the chai bandwagon. Like a good Oprah-ite, she dutifully sought out Ms. Winfrey's offering at the local Starbucks and proudly declared herself a fan of chai tea and chai lattes. My wife claims the Oprah Chai isn't even that good. I'll take her word for it.

Of all the chai selections I've tried, only one has ever fallen drastically short of my expectations. As far as I can tell, it's pretty hard to screw up chai. Although...um...one good way to do that might be to try to turn it into a protein shake.

Granted, I don't really drink protein beverages, so I'm not sure if they all tend to have that nasty, powdery, chalky essence about them. But for me, having that bizarre taste and thick texture present in what I was hoping would be a smooth, sweet, spicy chai beverage was quite an unpleasant surprise. 

Sonia, who's far more of a chai aficionado than I am, genuinely liked this drink. She liked that it "wasn't too sweet" and really enjoyed the flavor, although her one complaint would be that it "lacked a bit of kick" in the spice department. 

I know black tea in general has a decent amount of caffeine, so this beverage packs a significant punch in that way. I had already had my daily dose of caffeine when I tried this, so it made me a tad jittery. I think the label-putter-onner guy was drinking some too, because as you can see in the pic, the sticker on the bottle is slightly crooked.

This is one Sonia and I will agree to disagree on. I found it mostly unpleasant and would file this under "not so great." Sonia would lean more toward "really darn good." So we'll meet somewhere in the middle and say it's "not bad."

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

The Nosh Show: Best Trader Joe’s Snacks That Come in Plastic Tubs

Hosted by Marvo from The Impulsive Buy, we made our debut as guests on The Nosh Show sharing our favorite Trader Joe's snacks that come in plastic tubs. Thanks to all the readers and listeners that also shared their favorites on our social media.

Check out the show notes.

Subscribe to The Nosh Show on iTunes, Google Play, Stitcher, TuneIn or via RSS.

Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops

"Meh, these taste like Smarties" Sandy said after crunching through her first mouthful.

Wait...what?

Smarties?

Those cellophane-wrapped chalky straps of crunchified sugar, that parade candy classic, that stuffer of all things pinata, that cheap neighbor Halloween pass out? Those Smarties? How in the world do Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops taste like that? You crazy?

"No...the other Smarties...you know...the European ones...c'mon now...seriously? Never heard of them? What kind of food blogger are you anyways?" she stated with that slightly smug worldly glance that reflected very nicely off my blank stare.

I am a very 'murican amateur hack foodie, never been shy about it either.

So the natural thing would be to compare these TJ candies to the ubiquitous melt-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hand empire out there, which I for one have not only heard of but also have sampled of multiple times. To be honest, the first go-around I had with these choco-drops kinda tasted more or less like those to me, close enough for government work. But I have a tendency to inhale and not really taste chocolate, so on a second pickup (courtesy of a coworker who didn't like them), I decided to actually slow down and try to taste.

Aha. There are a few small differences. The chocolate here seems slightly sugarier and as a result a little less "intense" (such a relative term for milk chocolate) than the nationally known. It also seems maybe a tad bit creamier too. And the candy shells - I swear, they seem not exactly tougher but perhaps crispier, so a slight different mouthfeel to them.

Obviously there are also the different colors too - the somewhat muted purple and green and yellow and orange and whatnot. No Red 40 or Blue 82 or whatever here, folks. Naturally colored! With things like spuirilina (which is a health superfood in some circles) and beets and whatnot - hey, does that make this a chocolate salad? Kind of? No? Well, I'll settle for the no artificial colors - can't hurt, might help.

These choc drops are good, not great, but worth a pick up here or there if having a easily transportable choco supply on hand is an attractive idea to you. Certainly is to me. The half pound sack cost only about $3 if I recall right, so not a bad price. Sandy was happy enough with them, and she says they taste like those fancy Euro imports, than so be it. Although she said she likes the most famous brand more...USA! USA! USA! Sorry, Olympics over, still decompressing. Matching 3.5s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Candy Coated Chocolate Drops: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Raises the Bar

The birds here in our neighborhood are absolutely ravenous for birdseed. They can clear out our moderately-sized feeder in a single day. It's mostly finches, chickadees, and sparrows—and of course, those ugly, ubiquitous grackles. The squirrels would normally be a problem, too, but the birds eat up the food so quickly that the bushy-tailed, tree-dwelling rodents often don't even get a crack at raiding the feeder before it's empty.

In light of all that, it's pretty obvious that our backyard buddies would love a shot at one of these birdseed bars. It would be gone in minutes, maybe seconds. I'm not sure how good tapioca syrup, cane sugar, and maple syrup are for birds, but I am sure they'd happily deal with the consequences for just a taste of all those yummy seeds and grains.

Channeling her inner-bird, Sonia, too, makes short work of these Raises the Bar bars. I liked them okay, but I think I've had too many other granola bar type selections from Trader Joe's that I liked the taste of better. The Fruit and Nut Trek Mix Bars come to mind—and the much more recently-reviewed Organic Chia Bars do as well.

Appearance-wise, Raises the Bar are very similar to the chia bars but are square, rather than rectangular. There are bunches of seeds and tiny ingredients all smooshed together, united by the aforementioned syrups and honey. The base is most definitely oats, and accordingly, they taste quite "oaty." They're also very mapley, with a significant sunflower component as well.

They're chock full of whole grains and are conveniently individually-wrapped. Five bars for $2.79 makes this a pretty decent value, too. If you're looking for a super simple breakfast option or even just an easy afternoon snack, these bars are worth a purchase. In the end, it all comes down to taste, and Sonia just appreciated these a bit more than I did. Four and a half stars from her. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pinks & Whites

"Pinks & Whites" sounds like something you might read on the front door of a racist establishment. The "whites" would obviously be, you know, normal Caucasian folk. And the "pinks" would be, well...people like me. And Jim Gaffigan. And possibly Russ, too. You know, gingers. People like poor Sonia would walk up to the door and the xenophobic host would say, "Sorry, ma'am. Pinks and Whites only," gesturing to the sign on the door.

But make no mistake: these pink and white cookies are intended for all colors and ethnicities, even in these times of high racial tension. These flower-shaped snacks are all-inclusive. Well, except maybe for the gluten-intolerant. And the lactose-intolerant (yogurt coating is the number one ingredient). And those with allergies to soy, egg, peanut, or coconut. And vegans.

But other than those unlucky folks, these cookies are super-unifying and good at bringing people together. Because they flaunt a delicate shortbread taste, a milky-sweet frosting, and a generous amount of happy, colorful sprinkles that just about anyone can enjoy. They made Sonia and I feel like kids again.

Because we both had ginormous bags of pink and white cookies when we were young—except they were animal-shaped back then. No, not Barnum's Animals. They were Mother's. No, not my mother's. Ha! My mother never baked anything in her life. Mother's brand. Apparently, they're still on the market. 

A quick glance at TJ's ingredients versus Mother's ingredients reveals that Trader Joe's is once again far less deadly. Mother's infused a little vitamin B into their cookies to make them seem healthy. I mean, B1 and B2 can't hurt, but they probably won't offset the hydrogenated oils and high fructose corn syrup they snuck in there too. Jeez.

At any rate, the Trader Joe's version tastes just as good as, if not a little better than, those old-school animal cookies. Buttery, sweet, and highly-snackable, they're everything you've ever wanted in a yogurt-coated shortbread cookie. Both Sonia and I wish these had been around when we were kids. 

Truth be told, I'm not often in the mood for such cookies these days, but since they're as good as this kind of cookie gets, I can't go lower than three and a half stars. Sonia will give them an even four.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins

Nothing chocolate is safe in my house.

Oh, it's safe from the kids. As much as the girls love their "CHAAWWK-let" (as they say), we can more or less control their intake because we have longer limbs and defter hiding skills than them.

And it's safe from Sandy, too - she has the self control of a meditative master. That, coupled with this odd capacity to just hold on and on to snacks and whatnot until she is "fully ready to enjoy that snack" (whatever that means), results in her still having Easter candy from five years ago. How you gonna like that Peep now?

So, it's me. I'm the threat. Not sure what it is, but pretty much always (and in some ways in an even more acute sense over the past few months, I've wanted chocolate. It's some kinda odd man-craving. That sounds awkward. Anyways, because of this, and because we bought this right before Sandy and the kids were out for a week visiting my folks, Sandy ought to be proud of me that I didn't touch "her" Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins once  while she was gone.

Once this got opened, though? She'd be less proud then for sure.

Listen: it's not my fault. These bark thins aren't particularly fancy, but they make a pretty darn good little chocolate snack. Somehow we neglected to snap a pic of them, but if you ready the description on the front of the package, it explains exactly what they look like: odd sized and shaped shards of this 65% dark chocolate (tastes like the typical TJ dark choc variety) with some little teeny almond bits in here and there to add a little texture and crunch. By "thin", they absolutely are - no more than a few millimeters, to about the point wherre any thinner would call the structural integrity into question.

As could be reasonably expected, the dark chocolate and almonds pair well together, with the salt being a nice little touch. So nothing unexpected one way or another...except there does seem to be a little something extra. I think it's the thinness adding an extra snacky element. A regular chocolate bar would be a veritable slab requiring lots of commitment compared to a few wedges of this treat. For a quick sneaky hit of chocolate here or there, a little piece or two of this bark hits the spot, more so than a Hershey kiss to me.

It's a pretty good little pickup for the $4-ish it set us back. With a little control, the tub lasted us a few days of us both grabbing a piece here or there. Sandy only had to smack my hands away one or three times. As stated, nothing fancy or twisty or unexpected, but a smidge more snacktacular than anticipated. Matching fours. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Almond Bark Thins: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips

Everything changed the day I discovered...

...I'd be a dad.

...that there is such thing as playing Pearl Jam too loud while in my car by myself.

...that the lead singer of Hanson was a guy. That made for awkward teenage feelings.

...Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips? Hardly, no matter what that crazy pseudo-lepruachaun ginger-mopped lookin' doofus says on the package. I can only say that because I'm sure similar pictures exist of me growing up. See "awkward teenager" comment above.

But I sure as heck discovered one heckuva interesting chip.

To get it out of the way, kettle chips are my go-to chip choice. I may have an occasional fling with lattice cut, and don't get me started on baked varieties (stale Styrofoam, anyone?), but kettle cooked? With the super-extra-crunchilicious hearty bite? Yes, no doubt, and as would be expected, these are spot on.

As for flavor, though? Hmm. They're tough to quantify. The chips taste more than "somewhat" spicy, but it could be all the pickle flavor amplifying the spices (not exactly stated on the ingredients, but presuming cayenne and garlic). There's an odd mingling interplay between the spice and the picklish bite, that's tough to draw a line between. So here's a new word. Spicy + pickley = spickley. That's not to say it's a completely seemless taste - there is some differentation - but where exactly is a good question. I can't make quite make it out after repeat tastings.

In some ways, the chips taste like barbeque chips crossed with salt and vinegar ones with dill weed on the outside for a distinctive pickle flair. That "awkward teenager" that still exists inside of me wanted to crack up at that last sentence. But it's there. There's some heat, with a pickle twist, for a taste that lingers on for quite a bit afterwards. It'll make your breath reek, for sure.

Both Sandy and I tend to enjoy them, although I'm still confounded by them. it doesn't help that Sandy thinks the chips could be a lot more picklicious. "they're more spicy than anything," she said. I don't entirely agree, but don't know how to counter in a productive manner either. Eh, here's to somethfing we can enjoy together enough. Neither one of us recall the price offhand but they're in the typical price range of $2 or $3 a bag. She likes them a little more than I, and she gave a four, so I'll go a small step behind.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Somewhat Spicy Dill Flavored Kettle Cooked Potato Chips: 7-5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

  

Trader Joe's Tomato Lentil Soup

Maybe it's that "chocolate gum theory" Russ is always talking about, but I'm a fan of both tomato soup and lentil soup, so logically, I was expecting to love this mash-up of the two classics. But Sonia and I both agree it's less than the sum of its parts. And it's a shame, because we were quite ready to fall in love with another unique soup from Trader Joe's.

The broth was very thin—thinner than traditional tomato soup and certainly much thinner than my long lost TJ's Organic Tomato Bisque. That fact, in and of itself, wouldn't have been enough to ruin the "tomato soup" element of the equation. But the fact that it wasn't super-tomatoey was. I mean, it was just kinda watery. There was a tomato essence, if you will, but it wasn't the flavor extravaganza it could have been.

Even the lentils seemed to lack the richness of most traditional lentil soups. And there weren't enough of them. Any herb combinations present were too subtle to influence the taste in any meaningful way. And rather than the lentil flavor and tomato flavor working together and reinforcing one another, it felt as though they were struggling to suppress each other.

Although this will wind up sounding like an extremely negative review, I want to make it clear that I'm not saying this is a terrible product. It's not. It's a perfectly edible soup with a subtle earthy flavor, and it's certainly among the healthier products we've reviewed recently. If a bowl of this stuff magically appeared in front of me right now, I'd eat it without complaint. The point I'm trying to make is that I'd always choose traditional tomato soup or plain old lentil soup over this mixture of the two. I just feel like it's a little too bland and blasé. But that's just me. Well, Sonia too. If anything, Sonia was even more down on this product than I was.

In other news, one of the ingredients is "clarified buffalo milk butter." Yep. I don't even know how to elaborate on that. Just...yep.

Two and a half stars from me. Two from Sonia.

Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn

I wish I had something intelligent to say about Indian cinema and all the Bollywood classics that I'm sure exist. I simply don't. Closest I come is being able to say I was in the same room once or twice when Sandy was watching "Bend It Like Beckham" (I was probably writing a half-witted review, much like this one). And how representative that particular movie is of most Bollywood fare...I have no idea, because I don't know any better.

And I won't admit to knowing much about Indian cuisine, either. Most (okay, all) of my exposure has been either at Indian restaurants or the frozen food aisle at Trader Joe's, and how authentic that experience really is...I don't know, either.

But I can say I've eaten a lot of popcorn, and that whenever I've had any version of tikka masala I've loved it. Finally, those two classics have come together in Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn.

Ripping open our bag took some persistence and care. It probably didn't help we were pretty eager to chomp some down for a night of Olympics watching...but this was a tough bag to crack, to balance the force necessary without causing a popcorn micro-supernova. The payoff, though, was amazing - a big, aromatic cloud of cloves and cumin and garam masala, which quickly laid to rest how potent the seasoning might be on a simple popcorn base.

Potent is an understatement. My goodness. The best way I can explain it is a "happy heat." If you're a tikka masala fan at all, you know what I mean - it builds slowly but surely, with a lot of warmth, and it just lingers on and on, but it's never overbearing. I'm kind of amazed it comes from popcorn and not an actual dish with chicken or paneer and rice.

Combine all that with perfectly munchable popcorn kernels - solid, fluffy, crunchy, well popped, without many (if any) widows. It's a perfect snack. And it's been a long, long time since we've done this, but Sandy and I housed the entire bag in about an hour's time - that's what we get for keeping it within reach on the couch. And for once I can claim we were equally guilty.

To be honest, I'm trying really hard to think of anything even remotely critical to say about this popcorn, and I'm coming up empty. No deductions at all from these two American judges. And only $1.99. Perfect 10.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Bollywood Popcorn: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Thai Yellow Curry Sauce

Since the drive to a decent Thai restaurant is a relatively long one from our current home, Sonia and I have gotten into the habit of picking up what Thai-inspired products we can from Trader Joe's. Here's a good example of one. It's been on the shelves of Trader Joe's for many, many years. And those of you familiar with TJ's know that not every product stands the test of time there. Those that do tend to be pretty good.

This product is no exception to that rule. It's got a great sweet oniony, garlicky flavor with a coconut milk base and hints of ginger. But like its Thai Red Curry Sauce cousin, it's a little wanting in the heat department—if anything, this yellow selection is ever so slightly spicier than the red, but make no mistake, neither product will scorch your tongue by any means. Fortunately, lack of heat does not translate to a complete lack of flavor.

It coats food well and flaunts a nice thick, creamy texture. We served it with white rice, roasted potatoes, and the previously-reviewed Trader Joe's Tofu. It worked pretty well with those comparatively neutrally-flavored foods. The yellow sauce was definitely the most flavorful element of the meal, but even so, I wouldn't say it's particularly pungent. Even the garlic and onion essences don't really knock you in the teeth. They're there, but not overwhelmingly so.

I think this sauce could be quite versatile if you wanted to get a little more adventurous than we did. The bottle mentions it works well with meat, poultry, or veggies. I can totally see that. We just might pick it up again and do some more experimentation with it. Our only complaint is that it could use a little more "oomph."

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.