Trader Joe's Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls

Confession time yet again: Unlike Nathan and most of the Western world, I'm not a big pumpkin fan. At all. Truth be told, and I realize how deeply I may offend you by saying so, but I really don't get the big fuss about pumpkin this and pumpkin that this time of year. Wanna know something crazy? You know what a pumpkin all by its naked lonesome tastes like? NOTHING. It's all the pumpkin pie spices y'all love - the cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, cloves,whatever else. I'll enjoy a piece of pumpkin pie every once in a while, but everything else - your lattes, your pancakes, your mochi (for goodness sake) - you can have them. All of them. Consider me the anti-Linus, a pumpkin agnostic not personally believing in any Great Pumpkin and lacking any faith in any sort of all-powerful, all-good gourd. This time of year, give me a honeycrisp apple straight from the tree, and that's what fall tastes like to me.

Another favorite autumn taste: ginger cookies, much like some spiced wafers my dad always seemed to pick up to pair with some apple cider. It was only because of those memories that I was personally willing to give these Trader Joe's Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls a try.

Man, oh man, oh man....am I glad I did.

These ice cream cookie sandwiches are just about the tastiest dessert I've had from TJ's in a while - even better than that key lime pie I was raving about a couple months back. Not a single complaint from me at all. Much like their semi-minty predecessors, the dominant flavor for these beauteous bites is the cookie itself - soft, a little chewy, super gingery. Perhaps not as gingerish as the triple ginger snaps (the bomb) but close. For a guy who likes ginger as much as I do, they're the idea framework for a tasty little treat. The pumpkin-pie-ish ice cream (not too far off from the Pilgrim Joe variety, if I remember right) is a perfect counterbalance, offering a soft, creamy, kinda sweet kinda spiced filling, that in both texture and taste melds perfectly. For a little extra oomph, let the ice cream get just a little bit melty for a little extra soft creaminess - you won't be sorry.

I love the fact that these are are as small as they are, too. For such a rich, vibrant tasting treat, a normal sized ice cream sandwich would have been too much. When TJ's says "mouthful" here, it's meant quite literally - if I didn't have to worry so much about making a good example for my super-observant two year old, I could easily chomp it down without taking the two or three bites I did. Because they were so small, I can also tell myself they were a "not that bad of a diet cheat" to eat just one (a serving size is two), though, really, I know, that's somewhat debatable.

I've tried pretty hard to come up with any sort of reason to dislike these even a scintilla. I can't. Neither can the wife. If every thing with pumpkin tasted this good, I'd be a much different man. I'd be a believer.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pie Mochi Ice Cream

Regardless of whether you're in the middle of a pumpkin blitz or on a paleo diet, there's always time to take a break for newfangled cookie butter. So Sonia and I did, just like the Shellys, and we concur with their assessment of the confection. But now, difficult as it may be, it's time for me to return to my strict regimen of pumpkin-flavored desserts.

In this particular instance, we're looking at an Asian-inspired treat meets country pumpkin patch meets dairy farm meets Hawaiian-themed grocery store headquartered in California: Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pie Mochi. If you're familiar with mochi ice cream, not to be confused with mochi potstickers, you'll know that it's basically balls of ice cream coated with a thin, chewy, rice-based shell. Scrump-dilly. And just like most other mochi I've tried, the exterior texture of this pumpkin pie variety is soft, gummy, and delicious.

As for the taste, well...they're perfectly sweet, pumpkin pie spice-laden, and creamy. Pretty yummerrific. That is, if you like the taste of pumpkin ice cream. It was very similar to, if not exactly like, Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream. And if any of you remember that review—or if you decided to click that link just now—you'll know my main issue with that ice cream was a lack of "pie" texture.

Even though mochi shells are nothing like actual pie crust, they served the same purpose. They added a bit of breadiness to a product that would have otherwise been too smooth for me. Plus there were, in fact, a few crumbs of graham cookie scattered sparsely throughout the ice cream. Even though I would have loved a lot more of the cookie bits, they still added an extra hint of pie-ish-ness. So in that way, I found this product to be much more impressive than its counterpart in a quart cup.

Value-wise, you're getting more ice cream for your buck with Pilgrim Joe's, but in my opinion $3.49 for six mochi is well worth the money. Plus, it's a seasonal item, so it's not like you're going to be purchasing it all the time. All in all, I'm pretty impressed with pumpkin pie mochi, and I have to give it a big thumbs up with 4.5 stars, but with one final note: Try letting them thaw for a few minutes before shoveling them down your gullet, if you can. There's enough texture from the cookie crumbs and mochi shell, so in my opinion, the whole product is better if the ice cream is just a tad melted. 

Sonia gives these little guys 3.5 stars, adding that the pumpkin flavor in the mochi wasn't strong enough, and that she needed to eat three of them before the flavor built up on her taste buds enough to tell it was pumpkin.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cookies & Creme Cookie Butter

COOKIE. BUTTER.

Seriously. Just when you thought the speculoos train had left the station. Nothing new to see here in Cookie Butter Town, folks. You got your regular. You got the crunchy, err, crispy. You got it in chocolate. You got it mixed with chocolate. There's cookie butter ice cream. And for those who like their speculoos unbutterfied, there's the regular ol' cookies. There's nowhere else to go with cookie butter, right? Right?


Haha. Nope. We've only just begun!

As amazing as speculoos cookie butter is....there's more than one fish in the sea and one kind of cookie in the world. Trader Joe's is aready pretty famous for their Joe-Joe's in all sorts of variations. Combine those Oreo clones with the cookie butter concept, and voila! Here it is: Trader Joe's Cookies & Creme Cookie Butter.

For those familiar with the concept (and if you're not, you're a better person than me), cookie butter is made from squished up cookies mixed with palm oil and all sorts of other bad stuff that tastes so darn good that most of us don't really care. The outcome is typically a spreadable, occasionally crispy butter, and this particular variation is much the same. It's only the chocolately parts that are like that as the white is a creamy, marshmallowy filling much like typical Oreo filling.

Pretty literally, imagine eating an Oreo in a spreadable form that didn't require much if any chewing, and that's almost exactly what we got here. What have you wrought, TJ's!?!?!

So, it tastes good...but what do you do with it? That's the big question for Sandy and I. We sampled the good ol' 'merican way by taking our spoons directly to the jar. With some thought, we came up with waffles (maybe), toast (occasionally), pretzels, mixing into a smoothie or some ice cream, or eating from the jar. When I looked at the jar for perhaps some ideas, the label said all of the same. So, as tasty as the cookie spread is, it might be of some limited use, which as much as I enjoy all the other cookie butters, I see that as their weak point. Particularly tasty, not particularly versatile. We're open for suggestions here, folks.

Also, and this just a small thing, really, but when I saw hazelnuts were an ingredient, I hoped the cocoa swirl would be at least a little Nutella-esque. It's not really. Oh well.

If this really takes off, I can only imagine where the next cookie butter frontier will be. Chocolate chip cookie butter? Sugar cookie butter? Peanut butter cup cookie butter (or as I would call it, "buckeye butter")? For the holidays, my mom makes awesome Andes Candies cookies and candy cane cookies, amongst others...can we have holiday variations? Is there any kind of cookie we can't make into a butter? Is this really a road we need to go down? Is this why we're all fat? Is the entire "cookie butter" mania really just a Belgian conspiracy for total world domination? So many questions...

Sandy and I will enjoy the jar we have, and while it's tasty, it's not tempting enough for me to bust loose on my diet for it (down 20 pounds in about 2 months!), and once we're out, that'll probably be that. For the $3.69, though, it's a pretty good little occasional mini-indulgence. Matching fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cookies & Creme Cookie Butter: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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.