Trader Joe's Mini Chicken Tikka Samosas

I've always been a fan of not only chicken tikka masala, but chicken tikka as well—basically just boneless chicken with tandoori spices. And overall, I've been super impressed with Trader Joe's Indian offerings throughout the years. Plus, I love me some samosa-type appetizers...so purchasing this new-to-me frozen noshable was a no-brainer. And I'm glad I did.

The shells came out of the oven flaky and crispy, if perhaps a tad greasy. No need for pan-frying these puppies—they provided more than enough oil of their own. Taste-wise, the dough was extremely pleasant and flavorful, not to mention structurally-sound for hand-held snacking straight off an hors d'oeuvre tray or...you know, right from the baking sheet if one were so inclined. Note: that structural integrity guarantee does not remain in effect if one were to, say, cut the appetizer in half with a fork to share with a friend, or to, perhaps, take a picture for a blog or Instagram or what have you. In fact, cutting these little triangular morsels caused most of the chicken tikka filling to squish out onto the plate, which brings me to my next point...

The chicken tikka filling was good, but it's extremely shredded, to the point where it's nearly liquefied...okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. I guess I'm trying to say I wouldn't have minded some actual chicken bits, but that's nitpicking on my part. 

Also, the flavor was pleasant, but it just wasn't intense enough for me. The Indian spices weren't as potent as other chicken tikka offerings I've had. There was just enough spice to tell that this was, indeed, an Indian-inspired appetizer—but no more than that. I like my Indian food to boast strong, spicy, vivid tastes. This was a much more mild flavor here.

Sonia didn't seem to mind it as much as I did, but she immediately pointed out that as good as the product was, in her opinion, it would have been much better with a sweet, spicy Indian chutney of some kind.

Even though I'm able to point out a few things that might be labeled as "flaws" in this product, it's still pretty dang snackable. The true test is how long the tray lasts in our household of two after it comes out of the oven. In this case, barely 15 minutes. It could have had something to do with the fact it was close to lunch time, but we can't score this too harshly based on that fact alone. Again, we're looking at twelve pieces for just about four dollars, so it's a pretty standard value we've been seeing at TJ's lately.

I'll throw out three and a half stars here. Sonia will spring for four.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee

Wanna live forever?

Drink more coffee.

Nah, seriously.

Okay, probably not....but if you're anything like most of the rest of us, coffee is essential to morning survival. I need at least one cup, usually two, and little top-me-off most afternoons in that 2:30 kinda range, too. That's when the p.m. sleepies hit, which aren't that great when sitting at the ol' cubicle with a few hours yet to go before heading home to the real job.

So coffee might not make you immortal...but why take chances?

And why not increase your chances with Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee?

After all, the village of Vilcabamba is known for the longevity of their residents, although somewhat dubiously. Might it be their coffee?

Maybe...because this coffee is particularly drinkable. Smooth, even. It's a really nice balance with the medium roast hitting some earthy notes without too much acid or bite. Not bittersweet, but not entirely dull either - there's a little depth to the flavor. Must be from the Ecuadoran climate - grown in the shade up in the mountains, subtropical climate, and so on. You can tell the beans had a good life before being harvested. Makes a good cup if taken black as I prefer.

Still, perhaps I'm a bit spoiled. I mean, this Ecuadoran joe isn't bad, but it doesn't compare to the coffee beans my dad roasts. He gets them from pretty much every country that grows coffee and roasts the beans fresh a few times a week. After just being in town to visit last weekend and being reminded of how good that stuff is, and no matter where from, the depth and vibrancy of each variety, well, this just isn't as good.

But it'll do for an at-home cup in the morning fresh outta the bean grinder and French press. And at a pretty decent price tag too - $8.99 for the 12 ounce bag of whole beans. It'd be a stretch to say this would my every day choice for many years to come, however many I may have, but it wouldn't be the worst option in the world by far, either. If this coffee is somehow the fountain of youth, I'd drink to that.

Double fours from the wife and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sriracha Seafood Potstickers

Trader Joe's 50th anniversary? A rare total eclipse of the sun over the USA? How spectacular on both counts!

Unfortunately, I picked a relatively lame product to review right after the monumental events of the last few days. How anticlimactic.

Sriracha? Seafood? Asian dumplingy things? Doesn't sound too shabby to me. What's not to like? Hmm. Well...

First of all, I thought this was a new product. It's not. It's been around for a while, though it looks like it may have recently been an unwitting participant in one of TJ's infamous repackaging schemes. Apparently, it used to be green and red? I don't know if I have those facts straight, but I have a sinking feeling that someone will correct me in the comments section if they've got better intel than I do.

Anyhoo, I think I heard one of you ask, "What's not to like about this delicious, exotic appetizer, Nathan?" Well, first off, the texture...but before I go on a little rant, let's cover the positives—er, at least the less negative aspects of the product first.

How about we start with the sriracha? I actually think it tastes vaguely like sriracha and does indeed have a little kick. It's not a big kick. And both Sonia and I are always hankerin' for bigger kicks in these foods that are supposed to be spicy. But the spice-level I can live with here. I could certainly stand it stronger, but I personally didn't find a lack of sriracha to be one of the biggest weaknesses in this product.

Likewise, there were little chunks of shrimp that I would have loved a lot more of. They didn't taste bad and their texture was probably the most enjoyable element of the appetizer.

But the texture of the crab combined with that of the wrappers? Weird. It was just a slimy mush. I heated the potstickers via the stove top method detailed on the packaging. I think it was that final steaming step that threw them off. Or maybe I added too much water. At any rate, I drained the water and then fried the remaining pieces in a little more oil. This made them significantly more solid and somewhat more enjoyable, but there was still a gelatinous element to the whole thing that was a little off-putting to me.

I mentioned before that the shrimp wasn't bad and the sriracha wasn't bad, and I'll stand by those assertions. I guess the flavors that didn't really do it for me were those of the crab and the carrot/red pepper wrappers. It really didn't taste like crab to me. Overall, it was a weird flavor—vaguely spicy and vaguely seafoody, but in general, it didn't work. Both Sonia and I feel like onions, shallots, celery and/or actual carrot bits might have served this product well—any kind of actual veggies would have been welcome.

$3.99 for twelve potstickers. Not super cheap, but not the worst value in the world if you're one of the people who happen to like them. In the end, it's not a complete disaster of a product, but neither of us can recommend it very highly.

Sonia: 3 stars

Nathan: 2.5 stars

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley

Seeds and beans...beans and seeds...I love me some beans and seeeeeeeeds.....

No? Don't know that tune? Good, means you didn't hear it bouncing around in my head.

Thank you for not being in my head. It's a scary enough place without you there, too.

Actually, it's just my lame attempt at making a tune for Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley. Other products lend themselves to song parody much more easily. There's not much to really sing about here.

And not that much to really say, either. These kinda snacks must have their own little niche market, with a devoted following, because it seems like every couple months some sort of new dried veggie-type concoction comes up and on shelves and then just as suddenly disappear. Some are hits, others....not.

This one falls somewhere in the middle. Really, the highlight here is neither the seeds nor the beans...it's the corn. Those big, crunchy kernels are reminiscent of other snacks, and are pretty popcornesque sans any trace of fluffiness. I like them, and the flavor of them blend nicely in with the assorted pepitas and fava beans and other stuff that seem more or less  indistinguishable if you're not looking at them.

The major drawback? Again, neither bean nor seed...but the peas. Silly legumes. Really, they're the morsels that stick out the most - there's an almost earthy sweetness to them that kinda stands out unevenly from the rest of the crowd. Not awful...but not exactly terrific either. I jusr didn't like them.

The oily crunchy saltiness is the overarching flavor, as would be expected. But a little something else to them would have been appreciated - maybe a little ranch or something a little spicy - but na, just salt. And why isn't this labelled as gluten-free? Cross-contamination concerns that bad at the factory? Jeez.

Our fam was split on the snack bag o' beans and peas. Sandy and our oldest daughter thoroughly enjoyed the mix, while our youngest and I kinda took a bite or two before dismissing it. Meh. Not my thing, but could be yours. And at only like $2 or $3 for the bag, it can be...for practically a song.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Purple Carrot Juice

I'm aware purple carrots are a thing. I've seen them, heard about them, and have even eaten them cooked on one occasion. But somehow, my fleeting experience with them didn't quite prepare me for the taste of this beverage.

If you're someone who's a huge health nut, eats organic, and is quite familiar with purple carrots and their flavor, I'm sure this juice will be far less disappointing for you than it was for me. For a foodie-hack reviewing his way through Trader Joe's offerings—everything from organic quinoa to cookie butter cheesecake, I must say, this product was on the more unpleasant end of the spectrum. If I'm going to pay four bucks for one liter of juice, it's nice to know that it's good for me, but I was also hoping I could stomach the taste a little better, too.

Both Sonia and I immediately noted the similarity to beet juice. No, not beetlejuice. Beet juice—which thanks (or maybe no thanks) to Trader Joe's, we're familiar with as well. Must be the purpleness that makes it taste like beets. Am I right?

It also does taste vaguely like traditional carrots, but not quite as much as I expected it to. The splash of lemon is barely detectable. A bit more of that tartness might have helped, but I doubt it would have done much to influence the overall essence of the drink.

The WG@TJ's team has encountered carrot juice in the past. Even purple carrot juice once before. But in each of those previous cases, the beverage was heavily sexed up with more palatable juices like grape, apple, and/or orange. I think that's what we need here. I'm happy this beverage is organic and healthy and all, but the drinkability factor needs a little help.

Sonia's been trying to do that thing where you drink like two teaspoons of apple cider vinegar a few times a day for weight loss and heath, and she thinks this product is barely more drinkable than raw vinegar. However, she wants to like it and assumes that the taste will grow on her. It won't. I know her. But she gives it a generous three stars anyway.

I kinda want to like it, too. But I don't. I'll give it two stars since it's organic and "good-for-me." 

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps

Somebody please explain the appeal of hot soup in the summer time to me.

In the fall when the leaves are turning and there's that cool crispness in the air? On a blustery cold wintry day? Even in the springtime, when it's not all that warm yet? Sure, soup to you on all those kinda days? But summer? Precisely what makes soup great on all those other kinda days is what makes soup awful for the summer - that warm, full, salty, brothy feeling in your stomach. That's the last thing I want when it's pushing the 90s for both degrees and humidity.

Yet I see people eat soup all summer long. Even when complaining how hot it is outside. Even when living in a 100 year old brick house with no AC. I don't get it.

Yet...I've never wanted to make a big ol' crock pot of chili or potato or chicken noodle soup in August like I do right now. All thanks to Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps.

These better be around come autumn, or me and Big Joe will have some words. Serious words. These chips are all the classic comfort taste of high quality cornbread in a highly snackable form. If you have bad impulse control, you may want to avoid - there's some serious binge-eating potential here. Think cornbread, with it subtly earthy sweetness and salty, greasy vibe, mixed with a crumbly Wheat Thin, and that's about what we have here - but better. Crispy, crunchy, and light, but with every bit of cornbread essence, even down to the grittiness of cornmeal in the last bite or two. Delectable, delicious, delightful....devine even? Not that far of a stretch. At first it felt odd to make the Wheat thin comparison, but then I saw wheat flour was the first ingredient - apologies to the gluten-free crowd - so it's not too far off base.

These crisps are begging for soup to be crumbled atop. They'd be perfect alongside my chili. Sure, there's some other, much more summer friendly applications possible, like tossing in with a salad, eating straight, serving with some cheese, or even smushing some up to use as a pie crust. My only disappointment is that the crackers didn't match quite as well with either my family's new favorite fruit jam or my favorite store bought salsa as I would have hoped.

Definitely try them out, and maybe some stock up on some for when it's crockpot meal weather. Can't say there's much wrong. Double fours from the Mrs and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mango & Sticky Rice Spring Rolls

To be fair, I've only ever had sticky rice one other time, and even that instance was just snagging it off a friend's plate at the end of a Thai meal we had in Los Angeles, circa ten years ago. After doing a little Google research, I stumbled upon this informative article that not only refreshed my memory about the fun Asian dessert, but also illuminated much about its history, origins, and typical methods of preparation. Among other things, I learned that sticky rice is also known as "glutinous rice," and despite the sound of the name, it does not contain gluten. This product does contain gluten, however, since there's a wheat-based covering on the spring roll. 

Not surprisingly, there's nothing about sticky rice spring rolls in that article, nor have I ever heard of such a thing before.

But as Trader Joe's is well aware, just because something doesn't exist, doesn't mean it shouldn't exist.

Enter: Trader Joe's Mango & Sticky Rice Spring Rolls. The photo on the box makes it look like the filling is mostly a mango-based jam-like substance. The filling is mostly sticky rice, but there's plenty of actual mango in there, too. And the mango gets slightly gelatinous, surrounded by all that yummy stickiness, but not to the point the cover art would have you believe.

And that's just fine by me. There's plenty of authentic mango flavor as it is. The sticky rice is nice and sweet, and the "wrapper" on the spring roll gets warm and crispy when heated on a skillet with oil.

While the spring roll version of sticky rice isn't necessarily traditional, it apparently is traditional to serve the sticky rice covered with coconut milk and mango, both of which are present here. It's a great combination, and I look forward to having it in its more traditional form next time I find myself at a decent Thai restaurant—or Laotian restaurant, should I be so fortunate.

This dessert (or appetizer, as the case may be) is dense, heavy, and filling. The rolls are surprisingly structurally-sound, as they never completely disintegrated as I ate them with my hands. Even the mango pieces stayed right where they were supposed to, in the middle of the rolls.

$2.99 for five rolls—more than enough dessert for two. I'd definitely consider purchasing this one again. It's got a great, unique flavor, quality ingredients, and it's easy enough to prepare. Double fours here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips

Alrighty, confession time: it had been weeks, perhaps even months, since I'd last stepped foot inside a Trader Joe's before I went there a few days ago. Kinda surprising, but kinda how we roll, too. My lovely wife, in all her semi-stay at home mama madness, already goes to TJ's probably three or four days a week and makes a regular route to scout out anything new or exciting. I (and you, the readers) reap the spoils.

Anyways, she and the kiddos left town for a few days to visit my folks, leaving me here by myself and in need of sustenance and supplies. Off to TJ's for me! Off to wander and frolic along the aisles once more, foodstuffs untasted, yearning to be brought home with me in my week of bachelor mayhem....

Nothing. Nothing new, exciting, interesting, or untried. I looked hard, everywhere. Maybe I'm off my game. Or maybe TJ's is in that weird "prepare ye the way of pumpkin spice" mode they seem to do every August and so there's not much new til then.

While I briefly considered picking up a big hunk of some cheese so my Week of Russ could mirror the Summer of George, I settled on a jar of Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips. Woohoo. See, dear, I told you I was behaving myself.

I like 'em, quite a bit. There's few simple little simpler pleasures than a good pickle sometimes. Kosher dills that are closer to cucumber than overly pickled ones are the best IMHO, and that's the case here. Fresh, firm, fleshy, with a little crunch - yum. The heat level is pleasantly a little spicier than anticipated - imagine a fairly feisty banana pepper, and that approximates the heat level emanating from pretty much every chip. Of course, they are decidedly more pickle-y and vinegar-y than a pepper, but it's close enough. The heat blends well with the garlic and dill to make a smooth, even, pleasant taste.

Anything that you'd like pickle chips on, these would work. Burgers, sandwiches, straight from the jar like I did for dinner last night...hey, don't judge, not my fault there was leftover pizza at work and I needed something to go with my Mountain Dew...bachelorhood for the win. And for only a couple bucks for the jar, it's a quality pickle chip too. Good times. I have nothing overtly critical to say about them one way or another - I'm not in love with them, per se, but I certainly recognize their goodness and tastiness. Just me, so I'm doubling my score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Organic Strawberry Lime Agua Fresca

Ah, with all this rain we've been getting here on the east coast, we haven't had quite as much need for refreshing beverages as of late, but here and there we still have hot days, and lawns still need mowed, and shrubbery that's been left to grow wild, untrimmed, and unchecked by unruly tenants still needs clipped, and houses with no air conditioning and cat urine-soaked carpets still need cleaning on the inside...so needless to say, we still work up significant cravings for liquid refreshment on those days.

Sonia's very happy we reached for this flavor of agua fresca to quench our thirsts. I'm still not blown away, but this is my personal favorite flavor so far.

In case you missed either of them, our crack team of Trader Joe's product-reviewing extraordinaires has already reviewed the Hibiscus variety as well as the Pineapple Mango Mint flavor. As for this Strawberry Lime edition, it seems to me one could just take a sweeter beverage—say, the now-defunct Trader Joe's Pomegranate Limeade or Trader Joe's Organic Strawberry Lemonade and simply dilute them with one part water for every one part juice and come up with a very similar effect...or maybe just leave a glass of one of those beverages out in the rain for an hour or two. 

You could come back, and be like, "Oh look! God has miraculously multiplied my delicious fruit juice and given me twice as much!" And then if a friend pointed out the obvious fact that it was the rain and not necessarily a miracle, you could act all injured that your friend was insulting your faith and then point to the additional miracle that not only did your beverage grow in quantity, but it changed from a sticky, sugary-sweet diabetes trap to...you guessed it: agua fresca!

Sonia likes the lightness of the flavor but does add: "It's not like Mexicans don't like sugar." That's her way of admitting that the flavor could be a little more intense and sweet. Nevertheless, she gives it four and a half stars, an impressive score indeed. In light of her very high score, I'll match this product with the last agua fresca we looked at and throw out three stars.

Finally, here's a short video "review" that plays more like a spec spot for Trader Joe's. Wanna hire us for some TV or internet ads, Big Joe?

 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni

Let's see...Ravioli. Pot stickers. Won tons. Gyoza. Dumplings. Pierogi. Samosas. Bao. Tamales. And the undoubtedly all-American addition, the Totino's Pizza Roll.

Yes, there are all sorts of stuffed dough pocket-type constructions from all over the world. Obviously that's a short top-of-the head list. There's some differences, of course, from dough to stuffing material to size and prep methods, but it's a very common concept. Mostly because it's tasty. But until now, I've never heard of the Russian contribution to this realm, pelmeni.

Well, here's Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni on my dinner plate. All these little bite sized little dumpling deals all up in my bowl. Please God, no borscht in here....not that I have any idea what borscht really is.

Whew. No borscht! We're already ahead here!

As for everything else, it's a tasty enough bite. The dough is thin and kinda eggy but good in a comforty, nondescript way. As for the middle filling, the chicken and mushroom and whatever else gets rolled up up in some sort of soft meatball-type morsel that, strangely, doesn't taste all that much like either chicken or mushrooms. It's just kinda there. And it tastes good, again with a comfort type-vibe, but I wouldn't be able to tell you what it was. It's kinda salt and mild seasonings.

That's kinda the issue, I think. Again, nothing all that wrong with the pelmeni, but in a crowded field with so many similar products (most of them more familiar to the presumed typical consumer palate), there's nothing settting these apart. I wouldn't mind eating them again, and I'm not upset we still have a bag and a half of them in our freezer. But I'd never make a big fuss about getting them again, either.I couldn't tell you what the difference between these a regular bag of potstickers except maybe the pelmeni are more square.

Sandy and I both liked them for a midday lunch date at my work place. Our kids stuck to their cheese pierogi, because God forbid they ate something out of the usual. Then again, I can't say we really did, either. Eh well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pollo Asado Burrito

As much as I love the English language and champion its practicality among all the tongues of the world, I've always admired Spanish for placing the noun before the adjective. Just think about it. The noun is generally more important, therefore, should come first. In this case: chicken grilled. Those of you from the west coast will know El Pollo Loco, or as I like to call it, "The Chicken Crazy," which by the way, never offered a chicken burrito quite as tasty as this one, in my humble opinion.

Sonia might disagree, and while nobody's personal assessment is more or less valid than another's, hers goes quite a long way in terms of deeming what is "authentically Mexican" and what is not. Like offerings from Qdoba and Chipotle, this burrito is highly Americanized, but still brings some distinctive Mexican, or at least "Tex-Mex," flavors. For that reason, I liked it. It had plenty of peppers, black beans, corn, and rice, and I noticed a decent amount of shredded, grilled chicken, too. Sonia didn't think there was enough of that pollo—or at least that it wasn't flavorful enough to be noticed. 

The burrito was surprisingly sweet. I'm not sure where that was coming from, although "sugar" is listed on the ingredients in at least three places. See what I mean? Americanized. Muricans gotta throw sugar into everything.

My biggest complaint, though, was a decided lack of heat. This burrito wasn't spicy at all—which was disappointing because "salsa" is mentioned right on the wrapper. I know not all salsas are five alarm fires, but I generally hope for at least a little extra kick. Not here, unfortunately. 

At just about four dollars, this isn't the cheapest grocery store burrito you'll find at Trader Joe's—or any other marketplace, for that matter. However, when compared with those above-mentioned "Mexican grill" type restaurants, you'd be hard-pressed to find anything this cheap. And quality-wise, I'd say this offering should be compared to those restaurant burritos, not the average frozen thing at the grocery store—primarily because this burrito does not come frozen, but rather, refrigerated. For that reason, I think it tastes a great deal fresher than frozen burritos with similar ingredients.

I was lazy and crass enough to heat this item in the microwave rather than the oven. But neither Sonia nor I think that would have made much difference here. Any way you slice it, I was gonna wind up liking this burrito con pollo asado, and Sonia was gonna wind up going "meh." Four stars from me. Two and a half from her.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes

"Open your mind...harmonious convergence...Transcend the ordinary..."

From a breakfast cereal? Seriously?

That's what the back of the box says about Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes. I get the punny Hendrix connection and motif, and there's always been a hippie/hipster vibe to TJ's (at least in ym area), so it kinda works, but still. A breakfast cereal. It's corn flakes. I can understand folks looking for a transcendental expereice in a bowlfull of something or another, but...cereal? Well, alright...I guess.

The obvious draw, Woodstock-era connotations aside, is the fact that these are purple corn flakes. Oooooh, pretty, right? My kids like purple, maybe they'll eat them. Organic is, as always, a plus. That "harmonious convergence" the box speaks of is between purple maize and brown rice flours, additionally making this cereal gluten free. All well and good. Kinda groovy. Cereal for the people, man.

As with anything, there's plusses and minuses. Let's start positive. These flakes are seriously crispy. I'd even say almost downright crunchy to the last spoonful. Seems to be due to the basic flake construct being a little thicker than most typical flakes I've had, which easily get limp and soggy quickly. Not here. And there's nothing too funky about the taste - the fact that it's purple has no bearing, and corn and rice usually work well together, except....

Salt. The corn flakes are downright palpably salty. It's enough that if TJ's were to market these as tortilla chip cereal, I would think it appropriate. I kinda want to dump some salsa on the cereal to give it a try. it just might work. Granted, the saltiness does kinda dissipate once milk is poured on and a little sugar added, but still...there's no reason to get 1/7th of my daily sodium in one cup of breakfast cereal.

And no, the flakes won't turn your milk purple either. I'm alternately gracious and disappointed.

Overall, though, it's a decent enough cereal. Both my kiddos liked it enough to have multiple bowls, while both Sandy and I snacked on a few extra handfuls. I don't do cereal often, and neither does Sandy, so this is definitely on the fence as a repeat purchase. Not that there's anything too horrendously wrong, but once our girls' fasconation with purple cereal goes away, it'd take forever to get through a box. Not terrible, not awesome, and certainly not transcendental. Maybe the purple maize isn't all in my brain. Good.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Purple Maize Flakes: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Filled Crêpes

Long before we met each other, Sonia and I both had opportunities to travel to Paris, independently of one another. We each did the Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Notre Dame, Champs Elysee touristy thing and had a lovely time in the City of Light. Someday, we hope to return as a couple, but for now, it's fun recounting the few days we had there and comparing our experiences.

We both found Parisians to be kind and helpful, despite the many stories we'd both heard about how rude they were to American tourists. We both ate at a French McDonald's—because, you know, it doesn't get more authentic than French fries in France, complete with mayonnaise and very vinegary ketchup. And, of course, we both ate chocolate crêpes from street vendors, because they're everywhere, inexpensive, and scrump-dilly-icious.

These Trader Joe's crêpes aren't too far off from the authentic street cart crêpes we both had all those years ago, but there are a few distinct differences. First, the flour portion of the pastries is a little too thick here. When heated according to the instructions, the bread winds up just slightly stretchy and almost chewy—not to the point where it's unpleasant, but we both remembered a thinner, crispier crust on our crêpes. 

Straying from the printed directions, Sonia proceeded to heat one of the crêpes on the stove top in a little butter. The texture became significantly more crispy, and the flavor a little more indulgent. We preferred them that way, although heated in the oven, as per the instructions on the box, wasn't bad by any means. I even ate one straight out of the box after thawing for an hour or two. Honestly, taste-wise, there wasn't a whole lot of difference from the ones we heated in the oven. 

The shape of the crêpes is a little strange to us. The crêpes we'd always had before—not just in Paris, but most of the offerings we've tried stateside—were like thin pancakes folded over in a semicircle. These are more like little rolls, folded over multiple times. It's nothing to complain about—just a difference we noticed.

The filling here is a nice thin Nutella-esque chocolate creme—not too sweet and not too bitter, either. Just about perfect.

With a price point of $2.69 for seven crêpes, this is one of the more accessible international snacks from Trader Joe's. Four stars from me. Sonia was going to go with three and a half until she tried her own stove top butter-fried heating method. After trying them that way, she's ready to give a solid four.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Reduced Sugar Wild Blueberry Preserves

Here is the easternish part in the ol' U-S-of-A, there's two main types of blueberries, at least as far as I can discern. One I'll call the "New Jersey blueberry." Those are the huge, round ones, can be as big as marbles. No Chris Christie jokes, please.While they can be sweet, more often than not, those berries tend to be a little more bland to downright sour, and can be mushy very easily. There's not a whole lot necessarily wrong with them - as a kid in suburban Philly, we'd often cross the Delaware River and pick a few quarts for pies and whatnot - but they're not the "good ones" compared to their brethren, what I'll call the "Maine blueberry."

Wild Maine blueberries are the bomb. Small, potent, often extra sweet naturally, without anything else added to them. I associate them with Maine because I can recall picking and eating them right on the spot on family vacations visiting my grandparents and traipsing around the south central part of the state.

Seeing as that Trader Joe's Organic Reduced Sugar Wild Blueberry Preserves is both very sweet, with smaller looking berries in here, it seems a no-brainer that some berries akin to my preferred Maine blueberries are used. It's also a Canadian product, so probably Canadian berries, and NJ is a bit further away from Canada than Maine, so...there's that, eh?

As one should expect from preserves (as opposed to jelly or jam), this is some think, chunky stuff, with the emphasis on the fruit. I swear there's whole berries in almost every bite. It's simplistic enough of a recipe for sure, almost bordering on what you Aunt May would do while canning her own. No hint of anything fake. Except...probably less sugar. It seems odd that a concoction that is composed of 7/18ths added sugar is considered "reduced", and I think I just got a cavity thinking of how much must be in normally sugared jam. Ugh. Anyways, as I said, it's thick and chunky, and almost bordering on a high quality pie filling-type consistency. Yumz.

Delicious stuff, it really is. It's enough that my daughters have asked for "yogurt with blueberry jam" for breakfast every morning for the past week - pictured is our second jar in as many weeks. Seems healthyish enough I don't mind giving it to them so often. And I'll admit to eating it straight off the spoon. Anything else you'd like to do with some good preserves - scones, toast, alongside some cheese, etc - go for it, it'll work. And all for a very reasonable price - only $2.99 for the jar! Nice!

Really can't argue or find many nitpicks - I can't, Sandy can't, our kids can't. Our five year old gave it a perfect score, and I can't argue that. Tastes like summer in a jar - this might be our main jam for now on.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Reduced Sugar Wild Blueberry Preserves: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coconut Cream Greek Yogurt

It was not my original plan to review a second Greek yogurt in a single week. But Russ is holding down the non-yogurt fort with wit and swagger, as he's known to do.

Neither was it in my original plan to take a single picture of the product at hand in soft focus with my crusty phone camera. I took nutrition pics as well, but they were perfectly unreadable—so here's a link for those if you're interested.

Lord knows if you knew what Sonia and I went through yesterday, you'd be in awe that a review is being posted today at all. I won't go into the details, but I will tell you that our misadventures involved not one, but two, calls to the local police, both of which resulted in officers and squad cars on the scene, a house with no electricity and no water, a shady eviction case, multiple sleazy lawyers, and a national crime syndicate bent on benefiting the elite at the expense of the middle class and destroying all that's good in the process. I admit that last point may be a bit open to interpretation, but you'll understand when the epic novel comes out next year...or maybe I'll just blog about it somewhere other than here.

At any rate, at some point during the course of those events, I opened up the fridge in our RV to find something refreshing to snack on and stumbled upon this, which was undoubtedly purchased along with the avocado yogurt on our last TJ's run.

Cool, creamy, and super coconutty, this variety is the perfect Greek yogurt flavor. It is the antithesis of avocado yogurt—as surprisingly tasty as the avocado version was disappointing. I've had plenty of coconut yogurts in my day, and plenty of coconut cream flavored desserts, and the flavor of this product is on par with the best of them, in my opinion.

It isn't quite as sour and tangy as other Greek yogurt flavors, but there is still that distinctly Greek essence somehow—it's just more subtle here. It combines with the sweetness of the coconut in a unique way. There are coconut slivers/shavings throughout the product, which provide a nice little something to the texture.

In short, if you enjoy coconut flavored desserts, I can't see you not liking this stuff.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Cheese Pizza with a Cauliflower Crust

A few weeks back, we put out a review of a TJ's cauliflower pizza crust, and had kinda mixed review. Haven't had it since. Main issue was the texture - it just didn't feel like actual pizza crust. Too wet and dense and soggy. Since then, from what we understand, the prep instructions have been revamped to baking before topping the crust, then baking again. Seems like a high likelihood of that working out - we just haven't seen it in stores to try for ourselves. Have you? Let us know.

Semi-relatedly, here's Trader Joe's Gluten Free Cheese Pizza with a Cauliflower Crust. Pizza with all the guesswork taken out of it - slide out of box, insert in oven. No fuss, no muss.

Now, I have no need to follow a gluten-free diet - I have a preference to, when convenient, just out of occasional adherence to a semi-paleo friendly diet.* Helped me lose a lot of weight, helps me keep it off. That being said, it's hard for me to not compare gluten free products to their glutenfull counterparts, and usually, I find them a little "lacking" or "not to my taste" or whatever simply because of what I'm used to.

But...I'm really surprised by this cauli-crusted pizza here. I am going to make the comparison to a "normal" cheese freezer pizza, and feel very comfortable doing so. Mostly because, side by side, i don't think I could tell them apart. Seriously. The crust here gets crispy, a little crackery, while browning up easily and keeping all together. Must be the rice flour and all mixed in. It tastes and feels as "normal" as it can.

Nothing too special about the cheese or sauce - it's the standard fare. One can easily top the pizza with whatever kind of toppings you'd like, and it'd work for sure. Nothing to really stand in the way - it's just a cheese pizza. Which is a compliment, I think.

The pizza cost $4.99, which sounds maybe a little high at first, but for what it is versus comparable products, it's a reasonable enough value. I'm not sure Sandy and I will make a huge deal out of making a repeat purchase of it, but we all liked it enough. Even our now five year old, who easily turns up her nose at anything she doesn't like - she ate almost half the pizza herself. Not too much else to say - a good pizza that's not quite upper crust.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Cheese Pizza with a Cauliflower Crust: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

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* Yes I realize there are very few things less Paleo friendly than a plain cheese pizza.

Trader Joe's Avocado Citrus Greek Yogurt

Avocados are simply delicious. When they're just ripe, there's nothing like 'em. We're huge fans of putting them in salads, sandwiches, burgers, quesadillas, or anything else we can justify throwing them into. And who doesn't like chips and guacamole?

But yogurt? That seems just a little weird to me—almost along the same lines as putting bacon in a chocolate bar or elephant dung in candy bites...well, okay, that last one isn't actually a thing...yet. But you get the picture: it almost seems like certain products carry a bit of shock value just by stating their name. And if it works, great. But if it doesn't...everybody's like, "Um yeah, I didn't think that would work, so why did TJ's?"

Case in point: avocado yogurt. It doesn't sound like it should work, and in my humble opinion, it simply doesn't. The best part about this product is that it doesn't really taste that much like avocados. It's much more citrusy than avocado-y. But there's enough avocado to make your mouth a bit confused. It's sweeter and more citrusy than yogurt-based guacamole, but it's sour and tangy like most Greek yogurt, and then there's still that distinct, earthy, almost nutty essence of avocado—and at least my personal taste buds insist that it just doesn't belong in yogurt.

I gave it the old college try, but I'm not feeling it. Two stars from me. If it had been "Citrus Greek Yogurt with a Hint of Avocado," then maybe, just maybe it could have worked. Interesting concept though, I guess. And I don't feel super let-down, because my expectations for this product were much lower than the ones I had for, say, the PB&J Greek Yogurt. 

Sonia's only comment: "I don't hate it, but it's just weird." Three stars.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Puff Dogs

"I want you to review these just for all the Puff Daddy references you could make."

Love ya, sweetie, but Puff Daddy/ P. Diddy wasn't my jam back in the day. I'm familiar enough with the work of Mr Combs, but enough so that I could off a bunch of references in relation to Trader Joe's Puff Dogs? Nah.

I mean, "Puff Dog" does sound like a mid-to-late-'90s rapper. Probably was one, or could have been like a super dup between the aforementioned Diddy and Snoop Dogg.

As the story goes, the only reason we bought these was at the behest of one of the local TJ's employees, who knows who we are and what we do, and we were strongly advised to buy them. Why that is, I'm not sure, as I wasn't there. I personally wouldn't have. I have nothing against a quality hot dog wrapped up in a buttery biscuit type deal, but...it's easy enough to do on your own if the mood hits. Which for us is pretty rare...I don't think I've done this since college. Maybe even before. Aside from micro hors d'ouevres, of course. Those are tasty.

And yeah...that's what these puff dogs taste like. A fully grown hors d'oeuvres. There's nothing special, unique, or all that interesting about them, to be quite honest. I mean, yes, there's quality to be had here - the smoky beef hot dog in all its uncured goodness is rather tasty, admittedly - but, there's not much to be had otherwise. The puff pastry is standard, run of the mill flaky and a little buttery, and that combined with the beef dog do have a little greasy comfort food vibe that would taste even better after a few beers, I'm sure.

But there's nothing else, really. There's no "Trader Joe's-y" twist to them, like an unexpected seasoning or fancy cheese or some other novelty to them. It's tough to even argue a convenience factor, and at a somewhat premium price ($4.99 for five dogs - a buck per pup), you can get more bang for your buck by buying a pack of frankfurters and a tube of crescent rolls seperately and get much the same result.

Plus - this is probably silly - I hate the picture on the front. That yellow stuff hanging off the bitten-off hot dog? Is that supposed to be nacho cheese or day old scrambled egg? Yes, I know, probably mustard as evidenced by the cutesy mustard bottle up top, but still...there's something unsettling about it to me. Especially with the word "buttery" in close proximity. Yes, I'm weird.

Can't nobody hold me down. It might not be all about the Benjamins, but for the mo' money for these, I don't want mo' problems. Come with me or I'll be missing you...ugh, I can't do this any more. Probably not a repeat buy. They're okay, but what they'd best for is what P Diddy was best at: Sampling.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Puff Dogs: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crunchy Nutty Rice Bites with Quinoa & Cranberries

The little description on the back of the bag states: "When a lack of snacks is what ails you, a handful of Crunchy Nutty Rice Bites with Quinoa & Cranberries is the cure." How appropriate after having just watched A Cure for Wellness last night. What a disturbing film—I mean, genius in many ways, but thoroughly psychologically disturbing. What's even more disturbing is that I can readily identify with characters in such films far more than, say, anything that might be considered a normal family film. 

But if you've seen the movie, you'll know why I was immediately reluctant to consume something that a random quack medicine man claims is a "cure" for what ails me. The cover art, featuring one of the crunchy nutty rice bites levitating supernaturally over a pair of hands and radiating some sort of angelic rays, didn't help the case for these mysterious snacks.

But try them I did, and honestly, I'm not sure if I'm relieved at this point, because these things are so addicting, I'm a little worried there's more to them than their constituent parts listed on the ingredients. I mean, I've tried plenty of crispy ricey snacky things before, and plenty of treats laden with cranberries and quinoa, but none have had quite the same appeal as these sweet, crunchy bites—at least nothing in recent memory.

At first glance, some of the nuggets resemble little square pieces of sushi, with multiple muted colors resting on bite-sized beds of rice. But the similarities to sushi end there, as these rice bites flaunt a brittle crispness and surprising amount of sweetness. Tartness from a generous amount of cranberries tends to shine through in most of the pieces.

There's also a nuttiness in the majority of bites which I'd attribute to the pumpkin seeds before either almonds or cashews, or quinoa for that matter. I mean, there's definitely quinoa in there, but the fact that it's mentioned in the title of the snack seems more of a gimmick than anything else. I guess "pumpkin seeds" or "pepitas" just doesn't get the granola crowd riled up like "quinoa" apparently does.

I'm gonna go with four and a half here. 

According to Sonia, they're kinda like "healthy, dry Rice Krispies Treats." That about sums it up. Four stars from her.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.