Trader Joe's Pumpkin Seed Brittle

And now, it's time for something pumpkin. Puuuumpkin. <shamelessly drools and makes Homer Simpson-like gurgling noises> Orange autumn harvest-time delectability. I could link each instance of the word "pumpkin" in this blog post to a different pumpkin-flavored product review...but alas, I shall be lazy. You'll just have to type the word "pumpkin" into the search bar if you're really that interested. I think we have 18 or 19 posts about pumpkin at this point, and by the end of this season, we may have double that. 

Near the end of October last year, I received several death threats via email from readers who were sick and tired of pumpkin reviews. So I took a brief reprieve from the pumpkin-mania, only to receive an even larger number of death threats from fans who enjoyed the pumpkin reviews and demanded that I persist in writing them. I told those pumpkinophiles "Sure, but you have to protect me from the pumpkin-haters." They agreed. This Pumpkin Protection Agreement (PPA) carries into Pumpkin Season 2014 by default, just FYI. By reading this blog post, you agree to do everything in your power (which, realistically, may be nothing) to protect me from the pumpkinophobes.

Mmhmm. And on to the review. This really isn't a pumpkin product, strictly speaking. There's no pumpkin "fruit" in it. Just pumpkin seeds. And pumpkin pie spices. I'm sure this product would be absolutely revolting if it had significant amounts of actual pumpkin in it. But as it stands, it's a pleasantly sweet, salty, and spicy snack. If you're into pumpkin seeds and pumpkin pie spices, you pretty much can't go wrong with the taste. The pumpkin seeds are salty and crunchy, the way they should be. The pumpkin spices are definitely there, but not overpowering. There's enough nutmeg and cinnamon to pick out both of those flavors in the mix, but this treat is sweet more than anything else. You folks who are into "salty and sweet" should dig the essence of this pumpkin seed brittle just fine.

On the down side, I wasn't a huge fan of the texture of this product. It's crunchy and brittle, the way this stuff's supposed to be—and the seeds were perfect as far as I could tell. But the candy part was just a little too sticky, if that makes any sense. When touching it with my fingers, there was a noticeable stick-factor. And while chewing the product, that stickiness was even worse. It almost felt like biting down on a piece of hard candy like a Jolly Rancher or something—like it wasn't intended to be chewed. It stuck to each and every crevice in between my teeth and prompted a massive tongue workout as I tried to dislodge the wads of partially-chewed candy from my molars. If I'd had any exposed fillings or dental work, this snack would have certainly instigated an emergency trip to the dentist. If you have caps, crowns, or shoddy fillings, take heed! I realize all brittle candy is like that to some extent, but I felt that this stuff was particularly sticktastic.

But other than the risk of incidental oral calamity—and an overwhelming desire to immediately brush my teeth after consumption—I enjoyed this product. I give it 3.5 stars. Sonia gives it 4.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Salt and Pepper Pistachios

"I eat because I'm unhappy. I'm unhappy because I eat. It's a vicious cycle." - Fat Bastard

Well, for me, that's not entirely true...but I definitely still "stress eat," one can say. Recent case in point: the other night, sitting in Section 315 at PNC Park, having plopped down  a couple days' pay for the wifey and I to witness the NL Wild Card Game, our beloved Pirates vs. the San Fransisco Giants...just to watch our Buccos go down in flames. Not long after Brandon Bleepin' Crawford hit his fourth inning grand slam I grabbed the half pound bag of gas station pistachios I bought on the way to the game and promptly pretty much demolished them. Then I was so desperate for a beer I gave a vendor $9 for a Miller Lite (which I rank as only slightly better than this swill). If only that Yuengling hawker came by 5 minutes sooner...

Did it make anything better? Of course not. Pirates ended up losing 8-0, with half the crowd leaving in the seventh inning (excuse me, but that's seriously lame, Pittsburgh). And to much a smaller and less disappointing extent, those pistachios, although tasty, weren't Trader Joe's Salt and Pepper Pistachios.

These TJ pistachios are awesome. Although I must warn you right out front: you must really, really, really like-a ze pepper to stand a shot of being able to ingest these. It's not a light little sprinkle of some table variety pepper; it's more like this kinda thing being pushed on your taste buds. The first couple nuts I had, I thought I just picked a particularly strong few by chance - nope. Each pistachio is handily sea salted and black-and-red-peppered with a powerful spicy dose that will clear sinuses and knock out the unsuspecting. Heartburn warning. Yet, despite the potent spice, the taste of the pistachio still shines through in all its natural nutty glory.

Gotta pick a small quibble, though. The 13 ounce bag cost $7.49, which if my math is right (we've never really hit it off) equates to a little over $9.20 a pound. The aforementioned convenience store pickups I wolfed down? Four bucks for the half a pound (so $8 for a full pounder). Granted, the TJ's were better, but if you'd assume a more reasonable price at a historically inexpensive grocery chain versus the gas station mark up, you'd be wrong here. Pepper isn't that pricey...is it? Seems like other TJ nut prices have gone up - don't think I didn't notice that extra buck this past time, cashew butter.

"These get kinda intense," Sandy said as we both munched a couple handfuls down, noting how they made her tongue burn. "It's not exactly what I think of when I think about pepper - it's just really, really strong." Ah, but it's a burn so good, I say. She's going with a three, while I'm going for just a notch below perfection.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Salt and Pepper Pistachios: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Distinqt Tequila Reposado and Trader Joe's Margarita Mixer

Since Sonia and I moved out of California and crossed the country, we haven't been able to get our hands on any alcoholic beverages from Trader Joe's...until now! To celebrate finally selling our old condo, we decided to check out the Princeton, NJ Trader Joe's, which surprisingly has an extensive selection of not only Three Buck Chuck, miscellaneous wines, and Trader José beers, but also Trader Joe's brand hard liquor! It's a bit of a trek from our new home—right across the river from Wilmington, Delaware—but we had to go up there for business anyway. We were completely overwhelmed with choices. But since it's still warm-ish and still September, the month of Mexican Independence, we decided that margaritas wouldn't be out of the question.

We were hoping to find some TJ's brand mezcal, a liquor native to Sonia's parents' home state of Oaxaca, Mexico. It's a smokey-tasting alcoholic drink made from a plant in the agave family. However, we selected another fine Mexican beverage: tequila! It wasn't cheap: $22 for the bottle. But tequila isn't something you can "go discount" on even if you wanted to. I'm no expert when it comes to hard liquor, but I couldn't tell the difference between Trader Joe's Distinqt and any other major brand I've ever tried, like José Cuervo or Sauza, which are all in the same ballpark price-wise.

Tequila's always a little harsh as a shot, but it mixed together beautifully with the margarita concoction. The best thing about the mix was the absence of high fructose corn syrup and weird artificial stuff, unlike a lot of other major brands. And unlike the tequila, the margarita mixer was very affordable at $2.49. We added a little salt on the rims of our glasses, poured both liquids on the rocks, and stirred. We skipped the triple sec this time around. It was delicious!

As with most margarita mixers, the sweetness of it offset the bitterness of the tequila. Along with the salt, it made for a wild rollercoaster of a ride for our taste buds. It's been over a year since my last visit to Margaritaville—and this will undoubtedly be my last until next summer at least, so I enjoyed it while it lasted. Since I lack the expertise to critically score a tequila, I'll go with a positive, yet not-overly-exuberant score of 4 stars. Sonia will match that. I think the margarita mixer deserves a little more since it meets the taste and quality standards of the other brands I've had, but does so with better ingredients. 4.5 from me. Sonia gives it 3.5, stating that it's a little too sweet for her tastes, and that it burns her throat slightly. (I think it was the tequila burning her throat.) 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Distinqt Tequila: 8 out of 10 stars. 
Bottom line: Trader Joe's Margarita Mixer: 8 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer

It's been several months now, since Sandy's sudden evolutionary epiphany, that we've bought any cow milk for ourselves. Our dairyfree beverage of choice has been almond milk, though I'll admit, about the only one of us who really drinks it is our toddler, who drinks cupful by insistent cupful every day. Sandy will have some from time to time, especially if it's some flavored variety, but aside from the occasional inclusion in a smoothie, since I've given up cereal on my Paleo quest, I rarely if ever have any. Coffee creamer, though, has been the exception - well, not for me, I've gotten used to enjoying my coffee in the manner consistent with the infamous Airplane line - but we've just been buying regular half-and-half all along, and haven't thought much about it.

Until now. Here it is, an answer to dairyfree coffee creamin' dreamin': Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer. Unlike some other coconut milk creations TJ offers*, this seems, to my (limited) knowledge to also pass the Paleo test. No dairy. No soy. No gluten. Just some water, coconut, sugar *ahem* "dried cane syrup", and some chemical stuff which I don't know what they really do but I suppose it's important and hopefully not caveman-adverse.

And it works too. There is a definite yet slight coconut taste to it that does come through, so you have to plan a little bit for that, especially if you're planning to enjoy a flavored coffee. Sandy and I made a pretty vibrant "symphony" coffee (light and dark) over the weekend, and while I personally felt that the creamer dulled the flavor a little, the coconut still made a decent flavor accompaniment. Perhaps that "flavor dulling" is more due to it being the first coffee with creamer I've had in weeks, not sure. Generally, it seems like it'd work fine with regular roasts, but if your coffee has a taste that wouldn't mingle with coconut, then I'd say definitely avoid. The creamer won't get your coffee quite as tannish-brown as the regular moo juice will, but it gets the job done pretty well.  Sandy, who enjoys her sugar and creamer with coffee and not the other way around, had absolutely no complaints.

For a $1.49 for the pint, I'd imagine this being a regular pick up going forward. While I've now gotten to the point where I'm much more partial to black coffee than I'd ever thought I'd be, TJ's coco-creamer is still a nice little product option for anyone looking to avoid some dairy for whatever reason, or even just for a nice change of pace from the same ol' same ol'. I'll dabble from time to time. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Stupid maltodextrin AKA processed corn sugar junk.

Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets

It's been an even more interesting than usual past couple of weeks come dinner time in here, at the Western PA homefront of the WGaTJ's crew. In one corner, there's me, trying to stick true as best as possible to that pesky Paleo diet, making only occasional concessions for you, our readers. Great results so far - haven't weighed as little as I do now since the Bush administration, and by that I probably mean not the W one. Still got some work to do, though. In the other is my wife Sandy, nearing 8 months pregnant, after a long day of wrangling other people's kids at her preschool before tackling our own sweet little toddler for a couple hours while trying to make dinner while waiting for me to get home from work. Is she entitled to be hungry for whatever and that just has to be okay with me? No question, absolutely. But do I want to keep watching what I eat to keep on track? No doubt. Add in tiredness from work, lack of willingness from either of us to make two separate dinners, and pressure to maintain the appearance that we know what we're doing and not psychos less we equally confuse and confound our aforementioned two year old and  teenaged foreign exchange student we're hosting, and, well, it's been a delicate dance at times. At least neither of us is losing.

How do Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets fit in? Not in my caveman diet - oh, that pesky breadedness with all those yummy, crunchy, metabolism-killin' carbs. But, they're a good example of the compromise we've brokered - I eat Paleo for breakfast and lunch (not too hard during the week) and at dinner, we make reasonably healthy choices (these were a "one of those nights" bagged dinner nights) and I watch my portion sizes. Dropped a couple more pounds this week, so it doesn't seem to hurt too bad.

Besides being a symbol of peace thankfully made of chicken, not doves, these nuggets are pretty darned tasty too. That is, if you can call them nuggets - they're more like huge chunks of white chicken. Seriously, I'd say almost half the mega-nuggies we got were several bites each, and huge. Even better, it was actual chicken too, not the stuff that Snopes swears doesn't compose your McNuggets (jury's out if you ask me). I kinda liked how the bag proudly proclaims that the chicken contains up to 15% of a solution, implying that being 85% problematic is fine. Sorry, lame joke. As a small nod towards my 'lithic-classed leanings, the breading is also gluten free, relying instead on cornmeal and the like. While that still DQs this from any stone-aged supper, the cornmeal does add a pretty nice crunch, and a certain almost homemade flair. None of the seasonings particularly stand out, but instead keep themselves balanced nicely that make this chicken ideal for chunky-dunking into a dip of your choice, such as some barbeque sauce.

Overal, I gotta say, both the wife and I are fairly pleased. There's something a little fishy about them, though, which I can't quite figure out. Somehow, when eating these, I thought I was tasting something a little seafood-y. It's nothing unpleasant - I won't call fowl play on it - but I still couldn't quite shake that thought. Maybe it was the salt (trying to cut down that, too), I don't know.

Regardless, we liked 'em.  The birdy bits were a reasonable price ($5 for the sack) and will probably be a repeat purchase soon. Matching fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Rio Red Grapefruit Juice

Ah, the amazing grapefruit. It's not exactly season-appropriate, but there weren't any new pumpkin products on the shelves during our last TJ's run. Just as well. October is definitely the best month for a pumpkin blitz. That is, if we can find something pumpkin-flavored that we haven't reviewed yet.

At any rate, it's still fairly warm here in South Jersey these first few days of fall. So a spring/summer beverage isn't too far off the mark. Some might say grapefruit and its derivative juices are year-round treats. I certainly wouldn't argue with that, either. 

I grew up eating grapefruit halves at breakfast time. I'd put Sweet'n Low or Equal on it and spoon out the sections one by one. **Please note: I am not advocating the use of artificial sweeteners. My parents had them on hand and told me to use them. I was a just little kid and didn't have a say in the matter.** Then at the end, I'd pick up the grapefruit, hold it over a glass, and squeeze it as hard as I could. Actually up until the age of seven or eight, I'd have my dad do it for me. It was a kind of coming-of-age when I finally developed the upper body strength to match my father's grapefruit-squeezing skills. And man, there was only about a quarter cup of liquid that came out of the mostly-consumed grapefruit, but that juice was always amazing, despite a trace amount of artificial sweetener. Now, as an adult, I don't eat fresh grapefruit as often as I used to, but I still do the same thing when I finish half a grapefruit—and the juice is just as amazing as I remember it. Fresh-squeezed is always the best. Since then, every glass of bottled grapefruit juice I've ever consumed has had to stand up next to that pristine quarter cup of heaven that I'd produce myself at the end of my breakfast—and pretty much every glass of bottled grapefruit juice has been found wanting.

And while I want to say that's the case with this beverage, it's really like comparing apples and oranges. Or grapes and grapefruits, if you will, because the number one juice ingredient here is white grape juice. This is a grapefruit-flavored juice blend, not unlike Ocean Spray's famous Ruby Red. In fact, Ruby Red uses white grape juice to sweeten their cocktail as well, but it plays second fiddle to the red grapefruit. In TJ's mix, there is apparently more white grape juice. If you try really, really hard you can taste the white grape, but by and large, all the extra white grape juice does is make the blend slightly sweeter, and in my opinion, perhaps a tad less tart. That's the best way to describe this juice: like Ocean Spray's Ruby Red Grapefruit Juice, but leaning toward sweet rather than tart. And that, in my book, makes a pretty decent, refreshing juice drink. I give this beverage 4 stars. Sonia gives it 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning

It's a little less expensive than I thought to fly from Pittsburgh to Johannesburg, South Africa: starts around $1400, with a couple layovers (in Toronto and Munich), and takes about 24 hours. It's not a trip I'm planning seriously for any time soon (or quite possibly, ever) but if/when I'd ever go, man, someone invite me to a braai, please. Don't know what that is? I didn't until I saw it mentioned on the bag of Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning and looked it up. Basically, it's a South African style cookout/social gathering centered around lots and lots of meat. There's sosatie and boerewors (two new words for me!) along with chicken, seafood, whatever else...that's my kinda thing right there.

Well, apparently these TJ's chips got invited to the party, but to me, the jury's out on whether they really, truly belong or not. There's nothing really wrong with the chips - good, munchy texture, very crispy, almost worth the diet cheat points for that - and, although salty, I like the seasoning mix - lots of different stuff, primarily featuring smoky paprika and garlic - but there's something lost in translation here, I think. In the end, these South African-inspired chippies taste closer to a run-of-the mill straightforward barbeque chip to me, which is kinda boring and not the exotic kick I was looking for.

 I'm wagering this is not the fault of the spice blend itelf, but because it's on a chip, not a big ol'l chunk of carne. There's no real base for the flavor to blast off from. I've been too busy with some other spices and rubs at TJ's, but I *think* I've seen a South African seasoning blend on the shelf there which, if it's anything like this, would be a terrific pickup to rub on some chicken or fish or sausage or anything that can get all juicy on a grill. Instead, here, we're left with these light little dry crisps without much pop or sizzle. I think a little meaty gristle here could go a long, long ways - there's just not enough here for the seasonings to be able to really, fully express themselves. However, if we were to stay in the chip realm, another chip type may fare better - these are dressed up "Ode to Classic Potato Chip" hombres. A ridged or kettle chip would be a firmer base, with perhaps a little more oomph.

I'm not the only one not tooting my vuvuzela about these chips.Sandy's not too much of an ardent enthusiast either. "Ehhh...nothing too special," she stated with a dismissive tune. "I'll eat them but really, they pretty much taste like barbeque chips." Granted, it'd be a pretty darn good BBQ chip, and the price at $2.29 (at least locally) is a perfectly reasonable buy, but we both can't help but be a little bit disappointed here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cowgirl Bark

I had a hankerin' for some vittles, so I saddled up old Legacy and rode on over to the general store. While'n I perused their stock for something tasty, I came a across this here pink bag of Cowgirl Bark—my left eyebrow lifted up like one o' them there hot air balloons. I'd only ever heard of such a thing once before, in the classic western writings of a Mister Russell Shelly—a legend 'bout a man by the name of Cowboy Joe—a man so ruggedly adventuresome that the mud scraped off his boots made an unusual snack for regular folk like you and me. And while some say it ain't such tasty eatin', others say Cowboy Joe's mud is the stuff of dreams—more still say he's a lost man; a man with good intentions, yet a drifter with a broken compass. I had to find out if his cowgirl counterpart was just as unhinged, or if the bark from her boots were something just a little more special.

I sauntered over to the clerk, an impish young lass by the name of Josephine—Trader Jo, they called her—and placed my wares on the counter. She eyed me coolly. "You know they sell Cowboy Bark," she quipped. I stood there for a moment, eyeing her in return, taken slightly aback by the affront to my masculinity. "I've heard of it," I said. We stared each other down like gunslingers at high noon. She picked up the bag. "You like white chocolate?" she asked. Now, it's well-documented in these here electronic logs that I'm a huge fan of white chocolate. "It's for my wife," I lied. At least on most occasions, the little missus prefers dark chocolate to white. As Trader Jo shot me a look of disbelief, I went ahead and conceded "But I'll probably eat half the bag...and yeah, I do like white chocolate," as if the confession would offset my untruth. And with that, I quick-drew my wallet out of its holster, clicked the plastic action down through the reader, punched the green button, and laid that transaction down in no time flat. I snugged the card back in its sleeve as Jo handed me a receipt.

Impressed by my skills with the plastic, she waved me aside from the checkout, sat me down on a barstool, and took off one of her boots. It was covered in white mud, with a conglomeration of brown and red clay caked below her spurs. It was her. She was Cowgirl Jo. "Me 'n Cowboy Joe used to ride together," she said. "We'd rustle almondolopes as a team." She could tell I was impressed. "We both set out for the Big Rock Candy Mountains together, but...well, we both got a little lost along the way."  She continued, "I was with 'im through Pretzel Prairie, all the way past Peanut Pond..." she trailed off and got a little teary-eyed.

"And then?" I asked.

"And then, I—I just had to follow my own heart. We went our separate ways when he went up Joe-Joe's Mountain. I continued south through the Ginger Hills, and eventually I came upon a field of Cranberry Cattle. I wrangled them up and returned 'em to Rice Ranch." As she recounted each leg of her journey, she showed me the corresponding ingredient in her "bark." Triple ginger cookies, dried cranberries, and Rice Krispy-like grains were all tasty ingredients, but...where was she headed with all this?

"Finally, I wound up on the Great White Flats of Chocolate," she said. "I have sweet, sweet memories of that place." Glancing round her store at that point, she noted that it had filled up with locals and dudes, so she excused herself and sent me packin'. 

My encounter with Cowgirl Jo resonated with me for hours as Legacy and I lugged our goods back home to the missus—who surprisingly enjoyed the Cowgirl Bark more than I did! Sweet as Cowgirl Jo was, I still think she's just a-wanderin'...out there driftin' in the wilderness, just a bit lost like a tuft of tumbleweed. But if'n you like white chocolate—and ONLY if'n you like it a lot—then I say this Cowgirl Bark is worth a whirl. I give it three Sheriff Stars. The missus gives it four.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Strawberry Chia 100% Juice Smoothie

A few months ago, I was whining and pining for my long lost Jamba Juice after being unimpressed and underwhelmed by a $5 juice product from TJ's. Looks like they've stopped stocking that pressed juice at our local store, at least for the time being. I certainly wouldn't miss it if it disappeared forever. But I'll be danged, believe it or not, this strawberry chia stuff is a product I can get behind. It's thick, sweet, tasty, filling, and each bottle has way more omega 3 alpha-linolenic acid than I ever knew I needed. $2.99 a bottle won't break the bank, either.

With 48% of your daily fiber and 340 calories per bottle, this is a beverage that "eats like a meal." I can make this work for lunch all by itself. Some of you weight watchers might be horrified by the calorie count and the presence of 8g of fat, but look at it this way: wouldn't you rather be taking in calories from good sources like fruit and chia seeds than most other snacks? 

There are exactly three ingredients in this drink: apple juice, strawberry puree, and chia seeds. None of those things are going to show up on my gut the way 340 calories worth of bad carbs would.

I'm certainly no nutrition expert, but circa 7 years ago, I was 25 pounds leaner because I had a smoothie every night for dinner. In truth, the bottle claims to have two full servings in it, but I just don't see it that way. By drinking the whole thing, I feel very full, and I honestly don't want to eat anything else for quite a while. By drinking half of it, I feel like I need a bit more food in my body, and the little devil sitting over my left shoulder whispers something along the lines of "Go ahead, you've already had your fruit today. Have a slice of pizza or a donut," and sucker that I am, I fall for it every time.

But anyway, in summary, this just might be the smoothie that I've been looking for. Strawberry is the dominant flavor, and it's pleasantly sweet. The puree and the seeds blend seamlessly, texutre-wise. And a nice little blend of vitamins and protein make this a must-try for smoothie-enthusiasts and health nuts. I'm torn between an 8 and a 9, so I'll go with 8.5 stars.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips

So these are like dorians, right?

Apparently, I don't know jackfruit.

Fortunately, this website seems to know the difference, and if you're really all that interested, take a read, this post will still be here when you come back. Good to know I'm not the only one who didn't know until my more botanically aware spouse shot me the stinkeye. They're pretty similar in appearance, and I remember holding a durian at a 99 Ranch out in California once - heavy, spiky sucker, looked to be more of a projectile load for a trebuchet than something that was actually somewhat edible. So while durians and jackfruits are not the same, it's the image I'll hold in my mind, and if it's not completely accurate, then blame my blissful 'merican ignorance.

As for these actual Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips....mehhhh. I've had a couple handfuls of them by now, and can't quite make up my mind. Sandy's in the same boat. They're just kinda there and otherwise not horrible but not all that great either. It's not the texture's fault - think dehydrated apples but not quite as sticky-dry with a little more girth and fluffier Styrofoam aspect, and it's about like that. It's not bad for a dried fruit snack (though dried banana chips are still my all time fave). Crispy and crunchy are adequate enough adjectives, not much more needs to be said there.

Really, it's more the taste. Or the lack thereof. Depends on who you ask. Sandy insists the chips taste like nothing. I don't think that's entirely true - there's a subtly sweet flavor, kinda lightly citrus-y and banana-y, which is fine enough until it morphs into some sort of bittersweet funk that grabs hold of the back of your tongue like a toddler in need of consolation. It just won't let go...it's there and it's there to stay, no matter what you do. Seriously, I ate one ten minutes ago, and I can still taste it swimming around in my saliva. Not a fan.

Yet there's something about these fruity chips that I feel like I should like - perhaps because they're fruit so they make a healthy snack and are a possible replacement for chips and Cheetos and the like. Could be true. But still, I'd much prefer just eating a regular ol' apple for a crispy crunchy snack on the go, and if I have the luxury of some cashew butter around to spread on a slice, even better. These just don't cut it for me.

Sandy debated her score a long time before settling on a two, standing by her "they taste like nothing" claims. A two sounds more than fair to me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Spiced Chai

Not to be confused with Trader Joe's Spicy Chai Latte Mix, this beverage is full of black tea and chai spices, and it's every bit as tasty as its previously-reviewed cousins. As soon as hot water hits one of these teabags, there's a smell of fragrant spice in the air—similar to the scent of potpourri in one of those country stores that sells really expensive candles, wooden signs, and Boyds Bears run by mean, ultra-conservative old people that don't like Gen X'ers—but you go in anyway because you know you'll find the perfect Christmas gift for Mom there. That's how it smells. Like that...but a little more exotic.

It tastes like that, too. Just by itself, there's enough complexity and richness to keep your taste buds occupied. Even I, with my child-like sweet tooth, was able to stomach this stuff plain. Add sugar and half and half for a dessertier indulgence. Don't tell me "dessertier" isn't a word. It rolls off my keyboard more easily than "more dessert-like," and it's more appropriate here for some reason. The flavor tingles the tongue, but it doesn't burn the throat at all the way some chai has done to me in the past.

There's a good bit of caffeine in one cuppa this magical tea. I can't give you the exact milligrammage, but according to Chai-Direct.com, it has about 40mg per 4oz. I swear this stuff woke me up better than a regular cuppa coffee, but maybe that's because I drank more than 4oz each time I had it. I like the monkeys and elephants on the box. I'm buzzed with caffeine. Sometimes that gives me little ADD fits and I find it hard to focus.

Sonia loves this chai. And she's a self-proclaimed chai fanatic. She even tried the Oprah Chai, but she likes this stuff much better. This chai even tops her previous favorite, Tazo. She gives it four and a half stars. I guess I'll give it four.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie

Yeah, yeah...I know. Just a post or two ago, I was talking about the success I've had following a paleo diet over the past few weeks, and now, here it is, at long last due to popular demand, a review of Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie. I'm willing to bet our bigger foreheaded forefathers had some sort of prehistoric lime-type fruit but not the means to make into one heckuva tasty pie, so I'm a bad pseudo-caveman. I'd grunt more vigorously and wave my club in self defense with a little more earnest, but it's not worth it. A little cheat, now and then, isn't the worst thing...especially when your nearly seven-months pregnant wife insists on picking up something...for your birthday...what are you going to say, no? I'm not. Diet's still working, thank you very much.

And the great thing is, diet cheat or not, this one heckuva great pie. My goodness. There's so much to like here. First and foremost, this pie resides in the frozen aisle, so it's one of TJ's thaw-and-eat delights. Other desserts in this category have been somewhat hit or miss for texture - a lot of times, even while following or even exceeding thaw specs, there's still that mouthfeel that screams "I WAS FROZEN AND I STILL KINDA AM!!!!" Not so here, oh no. After just an hour and half in the fridge, this pie transmorgified from rockhard icy discus to soft, delectable, inviting citrus pie delight, without any trace of freezer-y-ness. Absolutely perfect.

But that's not all. The lime filling struck an impeccably perfect balance between sugary sweetness and citric tartness, all in a soft creamy goodness. Irresistibly good - so satisfying and refreshing altogether. Perfect. And what this even more perfect was the crust - no, I'm serious. I would have been reasonably happy with a run-of-the-mill graham cracker shell and not given much more thought. Instead of that, TJ's went with a gingery crust - not nearly as strongly gingerish as, say, their Triple Ginger Snaps, but still with a good amount of ginger that was a perfect counterbalance to the rest of the pie. Which is kinda weird, there's no ginger on the ingredients list...eh, whatever, I'll stand by what I said.

How good was this? Sandy ate two slices. My brother and his wife (both of whom are fairly diet conscious) ate two slices. I ate two slices. Then we all kinda looked at each other, shrugged with a "That was worth it" expression, and then stared longingly at the empty tin foil plate.

I gotta go perfect five on this. Hands down, the key lime pie was the best TJ's product I've had in sometime - yeah, maybe it just seemed extra good because of all the other sweets I've been denying myself recently, but I think it was actually that good. Sandy semi-incredulously went with only a four, noting it needed some cool hwip to really top it off. Maybe that's technically true for some, but then, I'd say, go supply your own while I'm perfectly happy with it just as is. For one night, I was one happy caveman.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Polenta Provencale

One thing I love about Trader Joe's is that they've exposed me to dozens of new dishes that I wouldn't have tried otherwise. Polenta is definitely one of those dishes. To the best of my recollection, I had never even heard of it before this. Sonia, who's even more widely traveled than I am, has not only tried polenta in her native Los Angeles, but also in Italy, where the dish apparently originates from. But despite her adventurous efforts, she's never been able to cultivate a deep appreciation for this corn-based dish.

The presence of corn (and absence of wheat) is great news for all you gluten-free folks. But for people like Sonia, it means an unusual texture that, in her own words, "feels like eating soap." I certainly see where she's coming from with that observation. The texture of the actual polenta balls is a little strange, especially if you're expecting it to feel just like traditional pasta. Now you've got me talking about balls and Russ chuckling about nut butter. I swear, people, this is a family-friendly blog.

Other than its lack of gluten and its vegetarian-ness, this product's other great strength lies in its vegetable medley, which includes peas, spinach, and tomato bits. The cream sauce is moderately spicy and lends a nice mixture of herbs to the dish, but its flavor certainly doesn't overpower that of the vegetables.

Flavor-wise, the polenta adds little. I found it to be very neutral in taste. There's a melodramatic spiel on the back of the bag describing Trader Joe's efforts to "liberate" polenta from its traditional Italian niche. So...if this isn't the way traditional polenta is served, then perhaps this entree would have been more successful as something entirely different? Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it. But Sonia and I both agree the least appetizing part of this dish is the polenta itself.

Another surprise was the overwhelming soupiness of the product, as pictured above. The photo on the bag depicts a mostly-dry dish served on a plate. I'm not really complaining, but we wound up eating our "polenta stew" from a bowl.

Since it's something unique and new-to-me—and because it tastes good overall, I'm giving this polenta provencale a 3.5. Despite admitting that she really liked the veggies, Sonia can't get past the texture of the polenta balls. She gives it 2.5 stars.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Salted Cashew Butter

Okay, so I can keep a straight face while writing most of this review, but I gotta admit, I really had to restrain my inner Beavis and Butthead every time I thought about using the phrase "nut butter." Uh huh, huh huh huh indeed.

Anyways, I've been interested in following a paleo (or at least paleo-esque) diet for quite some time, right after I finish my next quesadilla. Finally, a couple weeks back, I decided to give the cavemen cuisine more of an honest try, with almost immediate dividends: With a little exercise mixed in, I've dropped over 5 pounds in the past two-plus weeks. Now, I'm not a paleo diet expert by any means, so I cannot ascertain how closely Trader Joe's Creamy Slated Cashew Butter aligns with it, but I know it's much closer than regular old peanut butter, which I love. So, I figured, why not give it a try as I learn the ropes?

I've gone back and forth about my feelings about this particular nut butter (Stop it, Beavis!) several times. A minus: It's very oily and drippy when opened, closer to a sauce than an actual butter. No amount of stirring will resolve that. Just my preference talking, but me no likey. A plus: After being refrigerated for a good long time, the butter does solidify quite nicely. Another plus: Lots of good, honest cashew flavor. Another minus: Tastes pretty salty at points, especially while swallowing,, would be better without as much. What's good - reasonable price for a pound of cashew butter, $6.99 vs $10+ bucks I've seen elsewhere. But you can make your own, as I have, for cheaper as long as you have a decent food processor. A one pound back of busted up raw cashews cost $5 at TJ's, so the extra two bucks goes towards grinding (easy enough with some patience) and adding extra stuff which like the salt, sunflower oil, and, of all things, almonds for who knows what reason. There's always a price for convenience. The butter tastes about what you'd expect a handful of salted cashews to taste like, overall, so not a bad product, but I kinda like what I can grind myself better.

Initially I thought about retuning for a refund but have since changed my mind.I hate drippy nut butter that much, and what I can make out of my Oster is chunkier, heavier, less oily, less salty, and shows off the natural goodness of a cashew than this jar of TJ nuttiness. The jar's gotten better as I' ve come along, though, and now I've put some in smoothies or dipped some apples into or spread atop some banana slices. I'm not crazy in love all Beyonce-style about this cashew butter, but I don't hate it either. Sandy's in much the same boat - she stated she liked but a half-hearted "ehhhh" is about what she said. Using my spousal translation skills to use, I think that means a 2.5. For me, I think it's a better butter to not be bitter about - it stays in my kitchen with a 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Salted Cashew Butter: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Mango Lemonade

Several of our readers have suggested that this beverage is somehow "Disco Lemonade." Other than the line in the Marcy Playground song, I didn't think Disco Lemonade was a thing. Apparently, I am wrong yet again. There are two ways to make a Disco Lemonade cocktail, and though neither one involves this Trader Joe's beverage, I'm sure a little blue curacao and/or vodka mixed into this product would produce a tasty concoction—and an interesting version of the drink. But we didn't get a chance to find out with this bottle.

This is a highly chuggable, smooth, sweet, sassy lemonade right here. It's been around for quite a while in that TJ's beverage section. Not sure why we never checked it out until now. It has just the right amount of mangoiness. It's very sweet, but there's a hint of tanginess, too. Mango has a great flavor, but it can sometimes be overpowering and unpleasant. See Mango Nectar. Mango Green Tea was similarly disappointing to Sandy and Russ. More successful were the Apocalypse Now Juice and the Orange Peach Mango mix.

This beverage is thin like lemonade, and it's über-refreshing on a hot day. The flavor's a bit more interesting than plain old lemonade, but it has a similar calorie count and sugar content. I really can't think of a single complaint I have about this product. The price is reasonable at $3.49, considering it's "organic." I put quotes around "organic" to satisfy those grumpy people who want TJ's to spend millions of dollars to hire a third party to investigate all of their organic claims, effectively raising the price of every organic product in the store. I'm happy just to take their word for it and shell out less money, though I might pay for that cavalier attitude some decades hence.

On that cheerful note, we leave you with our final thoughts: this is some really good stuff. 4.5 stars from me. 4 stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins

I know, I know...I get it. There's a case to be made that I shouldn't review gluten-free products, seeing as that I have no gluten sensitivities whatsoever, and haven't tried brands and offerings to really fairly stack Trader Joe's offerings against. See my low score for their GF rice mac 'n cheese - I got a lot of flak from the celiac/sympathizer crowd for that. But, the thing is, even for their relatively small amount of product offering, market a lot of gluten free products, most of them for a good price, and somebody has to review them, right?  Why not me? I'm a complete amateur-hack foodie blogger for the best darn TJ's site on the Interwebz, so if I can't, no one can, and perhaps there's only lonely celiac-sufferer out there, wondering to know where they can get something like an English muffin, and doggone it, if this review helps them, it's worth it.

The obvious comparison for Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins is those famous Thomas fellows that all of us grew up on poking apart with our forks, making a mess on the floor much to our dog's delight and mother's chagrin. That's the only other English muffin out there I can rank TJ's against...and it's not close. They're almost completely different, just happening to share the same name, like this poor guy.

First, the TJ ones are much larger than their Thomas counterparts - at least twice, maybe closer to three times larger. That's an absurd size. Second, there's no forksplitting the TJ's, at least not easily - HELLO THAT"S HALF THE FUN GONE RIGHT THERE. There's no nooks and crannies or even crooks and nannies once cut - it's just silly, kinda sad looking bread circle. And for texture, they feel like lovechild offspring from a biscuit and a piece of cornbread - even after toasting, it's a pretty crumbly mess. "Light texture" it says on the bag - riiiight.  I mean, the taste seems about right, but that's about it.

Sandy and I made some breakfast sandwiches one evening for dinner using these, and by halfway through, I kinda regretted it. There was just too much bread and it wasn't that good - I felt like all I was eating was bread and not eggs and sausage too. Even Sandy agreed on that front. She tried one again a day or two later, this time just toasted with some butter and jam, and said it tasted and felt a little better going down, although both she and I rule out the notion of making English muffin pizzas with these - we both doubt the muffin would hold up.

There's one of these left currently, and I'm thinking that chances are good it'll end up as duck food at the local creek this weekend. I've been trying to avoid carbs anyways for the most part, so for me, this is not a worthy indulgence.  Sandy was slightly more in favor of them than I, giving them a three while noting their inherent dryness. I counter with a two. Perhaps for some, this is a viable alternative (if so, leave a comment so we know!), but if there's no need to have a gluten free diet, there's no need to pick up these up.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's BBQ Rub and Seasoning with Coffee & Garlic

Coffee and garlic...together? Unless we're talking about two sanguivoriphobes on a first date, this just can't be a good idea, can it?

No doubt, I was pretty skeptical. I mean, the thought of garlic in my coffee makes my stomach turn. Garlic is good in its own realm, coffee is in its own...this should be a separation so obvious that it shouldn't even be referenced for a case example for my chocolate gum theory.

But then Trader Joe's put them together for their BBQ Rub and Seasoning with Coffee & Garlic...and my brother and his wife tried it and swore by it...and then I saw Nathan get all squirrelly over caramel and cheese popcorn mixed together (granted, not one of my fave combos, either)...so, out of obligation to you, our reader, I decided to take on the burden of trying this out. I mean, if I can choke down a turkey meatloaf muffin or swig nearly a six pack of some gawd-awful swill for you, I can do this, right?

Please pardon my underestimation.

It's good. It actually works. I don't know how, and can't quite explain how, but it works. Sandy prepped some steaks the other night that I slapped on the grill once I got home. Open the canister and the first whiff is unmistakably coffee-laden, seemingly a darker blend but tough to exactly determine what type. Might be all the garlic and paprika in the way, don't know, because those are definitely present. I'll admit that I tried a small pinch or two by itself, and it's, well, unique to say the least. The ground coffee serves as an earthly base which underlies all the other flavors, and is fairly mild itself, which is a good thing. As for the garlic, it also seems pretty tame - I mean, there's no mistaking its presence, and it will make your breath reek - but it's not too out of bounds. There's actually a fair amount of brown sugar which seems to help keep everything in check, while still letting the slightly spicy bite of paprika through. And although a little salty tasting, there's not an overabundance of it, either. When seared into our steaks, I didn't notice the coffee as much as a sweet, somewhat spicy garlic taste which made every bite pretty enjoyable overall. I wasn't expecting that.

I don't think this is an everyday kinda rub or spice. But once a week or so...sure, why not? I'll admit I'm still partial to the 21 Seasoning Salute which goes awesomely on anything I put it on thus far - my favorite's been sauteed peppers and zucchini straight from the garden with some chicken. My brother and his wife swear when they made some grilled pork with this rub, it was the best chunk of meat they'd had in some time. We're not huge pork eaters (exception: bacon) but I could see that working well, along with chicken and maybe certain kinds of fleshier, milder fish. My only issue is it is kinda weird, and my stomach felt a little odd afterwards - not uncomfortable, no, but I was glad to have a couple bites of TJ's newest ice cream sensation to help placate the ol' Russ tank. Plus, that wasn't necessarily the rub either, and maybe I'm just being a little too sensitive for once. It's only a $1.99 for the canister, so it's worth a try if you're on the fence. Both Sandy and I waver between a three and four, so let's call it one of each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's BBQ Rub and Seasoning with Coffee & Garlic: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chicago Style Popcorn Mix

I am and always have been a food separatist. I'm not an extreme separatist, mind you. I don't dislike turkey mixed with stuffing mixed with gravy or anything like that. But cheese mixed with caramel is a little weird to me. I thought I got that "food separatist" terminology from Seinfeld or some other popular TV show, but when I Googled the phrase, all that came up were obscure blog posts about picky eaters and recent news articles about the Ukrainian separatists that just happened to contain the word "food" for one reason or another.

I like caramel corn, and cheddar popcorn is okay, but I'm not thrilled at the idea of eating them together. The bag says it's the perfect combo of salty and sweet. If you could just take yummy sweet things and mix them up with yummy salty things all willy nilly like that, then why doesn't Trader Joe's sell Cookie Butter Ice Cream and Curried Chicken Salad together in one tub?

You remember those giant tins of plain popcorn, cheese popcorn, and caramel corn that you'd get from Aunt Edna at Christmas time? They had little paper dividers in between the flavors. There was a reason for those dividers. Food separation. It wasn't a big deal if you ate plain with cheese or even caramel with plain. But the one thing you always had to be careful to avoid was mixing the caramel with the cheese. Now I'm sure many of you will chime in and be like "I've always eaten cheese popcorn with caramel corn..." Well, good for you. Maybe you're just a bit more open-minded than I am when it comes to mixing races of popcorn together. I may be a little old-fashioned in that way. But to put them together in one bag with no dividers on purpose?

Does everyone in the Windy City have such flagrant disregard for proper food separation? Folks 'round here love their cheesesteaks and their water ice, but Rita's has had the good sense to avoid a beef and cheez whiz flavored gelati. Now, I'm probably getting a little carried away with my food separation hang-up and putting a negative spin on an otherwise perfectly decent product. After all, there are large, puffy pieces of popcorn, and individually, the coatings are quite tasty. And it's not the end of the world if you have to pick out all the brown pieces and eat them first before you start on the orange pieces, or vice versa. But in the end, there's really not enough in this product to elevate it above the myriad brands of flavored popcorn that already exist—except for maybe some spiffy packaging and reasonably not-bad-for-you ingredients. When it's all said and done, I can't go higher than three stars. Sonia gives this product three and a half stars. She's fine with this bizarre combo. If you're into the whole Trader Joe's popcorn thing, check out Cocoa Drizzled and Herbs and Spices varieties too, assuming they are both still available...

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken

After all that cookie butter ice cream you've no doubt been cramming down since Nathan's last post, you surely think you oughtta go get a salad, right?

I wish I could say the stomach volume displacement value of Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken was at least some variant of equality, but it's not. There's a lot of promise - beans, cheese, tortillas, spicy chicken, all of which are right up my alley - but in actuality, the spork on the front sticker should've been a key tipoff: this is one salad that can't decide what it is or what it wants to be. Kinda like freshman year, I suppose. It's an okay lunch pick-up, but there's too much that's off to make it worth a regular rotation spot.

Let's count the ways. First, the chicken. The word "flavored" in the title should have been another hint that I whiffed on. The chicken is not barbecued, nor is it, technically, BBQ flavored. Instead, the BBQ flavor comes from a mini bucket of some invented product called "BBQ Vinaigrette." Let's be serious here - have any of you ever encountered the existence of such a product before? There's no such item listed for sale on Amazon, which means, to me, it's not real. It's kinda tangy and BBQy but definitely tastes like watered down sauce, but watered down with vinegar. Okay, but not that great. The ranch dressing is only semi-awful and doesn't add a lot. And the beans? Well, they're mixed in with some corn and diced red pepper, which is okay, but instead of being at least somewhat fresh, it's more of the canned variety, with some sort of goop coating them that makes them taste a little pickled, almost. With the two different dressings and the beans etc, that makes for not one, not two, but three (!) little cups inside that take up a lot of space in both the salad container and your friendly local landfill. Seriously, there's got to be a better way.

On the plus side: Lettuce is fresh and crispy, has that "just chopped" feel to it. The MJ cheese seemed particularly good (though perhaps an overstatement - first cheese I've had in a while) and the tortilla chip strips add a good little crunch. If you happen to like the dressings, a little goes a long way - I barely blipped mine in, gave it a good mix, and still had a couple small pools at the bottom. That helps cut down the more unsavory nutritionals too, of course.

Getting back to that point of "not knowing what it is": it's just a weird mix. If it wants to be a BBQ chicken salad, then put in actual BBQ chicken, some greens, some cheese, maybe a pepper or two, and skip the black beans and corn and whatnot. If you want to keep the beans and corn, nix the BBQ and go for a chipotle ranch dressing. Or maybe even better, just skip both dressings, or maybe just skip this salad altogether. Perhaps I'm being harsh after a long, frustrating day, but I'd prefer more tastiness for something that looked like it held enough promise for me to drop a hard-earned $4.49 on it - I could have gotten a buffalo chicken salad from the work cafe for the same price and been much happier. I'll try to be kind, but in the end, best case scenario to me, it has "meh" stamped all over it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons