Trader Joe's Gluten Free Egg Fettucine Pasta

As a family that has no gluten sensitivities or celiac concerns, there's invariably and irrefutably one factor that makes or breaks a gluten free product for us: the texture. Most GF items we've had taste fine or just good enough, but if it feels wrong, ugh. Or conversely, if the texture is just fine, that's an absolute bonus.  A recent family snack favorite (non-TJ's division) has been Snyder's of Hanover Gluten Free Mini Pretzels. Not only do they taste awesome but they have a terrific, tight crunch that's even better than a regular pretzel. We gobble them down, and are an absolute winner.

And yes, we are aware that TJ's has a gluten free snack pretzel option. I don't believe they've been reviewed, but we've had them. We just like the Snyder's better, so there's that.

But what Trader Joe's does have is Trader Joe's Gluten Free Egg Fettucine Pasta.

Egg noodles really are the best, aren't they? A little firmer, a little doughier, some more girth and whatnot. They're classic, and you don't mess with classics. That's why I never acknowledge that Jack Sparrow was also once in a chocolate factory...point being, here's a little bit of a risk. Making an all out, long thick noodle that will undoubtedly be at the center of any dish it's prepared for leaves little wiggle room for error....

Nailed it.

I'd be hard pressed to notice a difference AT ALL between these gluten free noodlers and the plain ol semolina variety. It's nearly a perfect copy. Even more impressive considering the first ingredient is rice flour, which I typically liken to making stuff taste and feel like wet newspaper. I would think might some sort of corn conglomeration would do it, but nope, rice. Amazing.

I wish I could really go into more detail, but think of a really good egg noodle, and that's exactly what these guys are like. What more can I say? What higher compliment? I can think of none.

Even our kiddos loved them. M, our oldest, enthusiastically gave them two thumbs and 10 toes up, and she's normally the first to grimace about anything. It may have helped we had these for dinner in butter sauce with shrimp, which are two of her favorites. We all wolfed them down. Which brings to one slight negative - it's only three servings per bag, which is kinda an odd number. For our fam, and perhaps yours, two bags would have to do it for dinner, especially when our kids' appetities will rival ours. Regardles they were fairly inexpensive and readily available in the refrigertaed section, as these are fresh noodles that cook in literal minutes. Which makes them even better for our busy fam. As ones who choose to forego gluten when possible, these will become a staple I'm sure. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Egg Fettucine Pasta: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Green Goddess Salad Dressing

When Trader Joe's offers up female-themed, gender-specific products like this one, I always have to do a self-induced Man Card check. 

I mean, one could argue that Trader Joe himself is a dude, and that nearly every product in the store has a dude's name on it. But a chick purchasing Cowboy Burgers or Cowboy Caviar? Nobody bats an eyelid. I buy Cowgirl Bark—and the female clerk that rang me up actually called me out on it. Other parts of that classic review were indeed fictional—and me calling my own review "classic" is absolutely meant to be as tongue-in-cheek as you were hoping it was. But the part about the Trader Joe's employee wondering why I was buying Cowgirl Bark instead of the "boy" version really, truly, honestly happened.

So now, when "goddess" type products pop up on TJ's shelves, to prove to myself how secure I am in my masculinity...

I send my lovely Sonia in to purchase them while I wait in the car.

I mean, I'm well aware that food-blogging about salad dressing isn't quite as manly as, say, felling mighty cedar trees with a hacksaw or driving a monster truck through a massive, fiery explosion, so I'm demonstrating some level of security here anyway, right? I've reviewed mango, pumpkin spice, and even light beer products. I'm secure as heck...right? I guess if I even have to ask you, then I already have my answer. Oh well.

Insecure or not, I must say I do like this dressing. It's super thick, but relatively smooth, and it tastes as green as it looks. It coats everything it touches, so you don't have to use much with each serving. 

It's decidedly avocado-y. There's a bright citrusy zing from the lemon juice, too—and underneath those dominant flavors is a subtle, but remarkably unique blend of garlic, spices, and apple cider vinegar. It worked very well on salad, but I think there are plenty of other applications here.

It certainly doesn't taste exactly like guacamole, but it could probably serve in the same capacity. It's delicious as a chip dip, and I imagine it would be stellar as a sauce for fish tacos, sandwiches, baked potatoes, or nachos.

$3.69 for the small bottle. Even with teeny-weeny serving sizes, it'll go fast, because you'll want to eat it with everything. No weird ingredients, low in calories, vegan. Definitely avoid if you hate avocados or guac. I wish they made a version with some heat. I'm not sure what will pair just right with it... jalapeños? Tapatio? Cayenne pepper? We'll just have to experiment. Four stars from me. Four and a half from my "goddess," Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup

Congrats, it's been done. It was bound to sooner or later.

After eight years and hundreds of reviews, I've been thoroughly stumped as to how to otherwise start a review of a TJ's product.

Usually I have a slice of life or dumb joke or mini info-burst about something that at least tangentially has to do with something, but not this time with Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup. I've been mulling it over for close to a week, but I got nothing.

Nothing new to say about snacky nuts or bourbon or maple syrup or anything that has to do with these nuts. No great stories. No puns or jokes or anything. Just me and a bag of nuts that sound pretty amazing.

I'll grant that these bourbon maple glazed walnuts are good...but odd. There's a definite added buttery taste (it's the second ingredient) that adds an unexpected creamy blast, with all sorts of added sugar too. And not maple syrup-kinda sugar...just sugar.

So these are some pretty sweet walnuts, practically candy. There's some sweet maple taste at the end, for sure, but it's really tough to pick up on any bourbon aspects. The package says something along the lines of "earthiness" which isn't there, either, aside from the inherent nutty taste. It's some pretty good quality walnuts, by the way - nice and chunky, definitely munchy, a little roasty.

They're tasty by the handful, and would probably be good in things like brownies. The package recommends atop salad as well - in the right kind, that could work. Still, I feel as if the buttery coating holds back the product from it could fully be - some more straight up bourbon-y maple would be fantastic. Eh well. Still pretty tasty, and both Sandy and I had to hold ourselves back from chomping down the whole bag - they're pretty snackable for sure, so watch out.

For $3.99 for a half pound bag, it's a fairly respectable value as well. I'd get them again for sure, and maybe by then I'd think of some sort of wittier intro...but right now, it's just driving me nuts.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Glazed Walnuts with Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Coconut Water with Pineapple Juice

It seemed to me I'd heard once that, in a pinch, one could use coconut water as IV fluid. I opened up Google and started typing "use coconut water" and sure enough, an auto-fill option popped up that read: "can you use coconut water as IV fluid". Apparently, the answer to that unpunctuated question is... "kinda."

There are actually multiple anecdotal reports of doctors successfully administering coconut water intravenously in cases of extreme dehydration when traditional IV fluids were absent. For some reason, I'm thinking these were cases of final desperation, rather than calculated medical maneuvers, but hey, I'm no doctor. I guess the bottom line here is that coconut water is just really darn good at providing hydration to the human body.

Now I'm guessing the addition of pineapple juice is a big "no-no" when attempting to inject the liquid directly into a vein, but when ingested orally, it makes coconut water a moderately enjoyable beverage, as is the case here. And when I say "moderately enjoyable," I mean that as a relative term. I mean that people who just barely tolerate the taste of coconut water (like me) will tolerate it with significantly less of a grimace on their face now that it's available with pineapple juice mixed in—unless, of course, said person is also not a fan of pineapple juice.

Sonia generally enjoys regular coconut water and thinks this mix is even better. "It's like a really watered down pina colada," she says. I won't argue with that, though I'd emphasize the "really watered down" part. It's about $4 for four small cans, which isn't cheap. Sonia would like to point out, though, that while sick with the flu, she used this beverage to stay well-hydrated. Not only that, but there's a good bit of vitamin C in there, too. So if you think of it as medicine, the price point seems more reasonable.

Sonia gives this coconut water 4.5 stars. I give it 3.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers

My wife doesn't always believe everything I tell her.

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a concise, simple example of this that I'm openly willing to share. And I'm not talking about a nefarious, relationship-straining kinda doubt. It's more the "have to hear it from someone else" kinda deal. In all, it's pretty harmless, and it's never been over something too deeply serious.

I'm gonna use Trader Joe's Crwamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers for an theoretical example, actually.

This actually didn't occur this way...but if I were somehow to get my hands on a boxful and try them out before she would, and told her that they taste like pizza, she'd probably be reluctant to try and may not even. She's not a tomato fan at all, and abhor tomato soup, so this is a product that would take some convincing for her to try.

But, I guess these soup-flavored crackers made their way on a TJ's fan page somewhere, where a few people all said "These crackers taste like pizza!" and so with that, she made sure to get them, probably mostly for a snack for our tomato soup lovin' girls, but she was pretty pumped to give them a try without any prodding from me.

I disagree, though. These crackers do NOT taste like pizza.

Sure, there's a vague similarity. The earthy soup flavors with a zesty spice flair (pepper, garlic, etc) could be construed as marinara-esque. I didn't pick up on it much, but folks with more attuned taste buds *might* be able to pick up on the asiago cheese. Primarily composed of rice flour, these crackers are light and ultra crispy with a sizable crunch, with the bonus of being gluten free.

But like pizza? Nah, not quite...it's something else...

Pizza Combo filling.

Obviously, in a different form and all, but to me, the similarity is there. Well, maybe less salty. But everything else? Yup. I'm not talking about the pretzel tube part or whatever else, but just the filling in the middle. Tomatoey with generic spice and a hint of cheese. It's there, and it's not necessarily bad, but if these crackers taste like pizza Combos, but if pizza Combos really don't taste all that much like pizza, the transitive property states that these crackers don't taste like pizza. Although I can see why people would think that way...

Am I mad? Crazy? Would this argument hold up in court? I have no idea. You tell me!

In all, our family enjoys them just fine. I like them as a snack that I feel no need to binge on, as does Sandy. But like pizza? Nah. Maybe you'll just to believe me...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy

It's a rare condition that I link to the same seven-year-old post twice in a single week, but that's what we're gonna have to do here. Because in that post, Mr. Shelly states that the Mount Rushmore of Ice Cream would include Ben & Jerry's legendary Cherry Garcia. At the very least, the Vermont-based, Penn State-educated duo set the bar for cherry-flavored frozen desserts with their famous offering. Russ and I are both far too young and drug-free to be considered true Deadheads, but I do appreciate the ice cream as well as its late, great namesake and his music. By the way, Ben and Jerry, when will Bob Weir get an ice cream named after him?

But seriously though, as I scour the web for some background info during my brief prep for writing this post, I am dumbfounded by two revelations: 

1) Ben & Jerry's offers a non-dairy Cherry Garcia made with almond milk, and... 

2) This particular product was available at Trader Joe's at least A DECADE AGO. See: this blogspot food review.

In cases like this, it's anybody's guess as to whether this product was discontinued and then re-released, or whether it's been available all these years, somehow eluding our sights there in the frozen aisle. This recent tweet made me assume it was a new product.

If it has been there all these years, quite frankly I'm shocked that we didn't hear more about it, because it's pretty fantastic. In some ways, the slight nuttiness of the soy milk blends with the chocolate and cherry flavors even better than traditional dairy milk does. I'm eager to try B&J's almond milk-based version now, as that might work even better still. But as it stands, I'd hold this Soy Creamy flavor in higher esteem than the vanilla flavor we tried a while back.

There are plenty of chocolate chips, and the cherries are pretty awesome. They're basically just sugared cherries—as sweet as maraschino cherries, but without the formaldehyde and radioactive Red 40. Plenty of 'em, too. The overall flavor is sweet, but not too sweet, with very little aftertaste.

Sonia is a little under the weather right now and admittedly can't taste very much. She did like the bit of flavor she could detect, and of course she enjoyed the texture. Four stars from her. As someone who generally prefers dairy milk over soy milk, I think this product is worth 4.5, especially if you're lactose-intolerant or vegan.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito

Oh, fast food breakfast sandwiches. They will always be my vice. A few years back, I'd eat two of them a morning a few times a week, and wonder why I was about a hundred pounds overweight. Those days have passed, and I'm in a better place and all, but still...can't quite give up the breakfast sandwich. Fortunately I'm down to usually only one a week now, on Fridays as a treat. Seems reasonable enough a prize for lasting thru a long week up to that point, with a little added something to get me the rest of the way home.

I have my usual go-to spot, but anytime I hear anything new about a breakfast sandwich somewhere, my ears instantly perk. So only naturally, when I heard of the new Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito, I had to give it a try.

Not that TJ's exactly has a sparkling history of mornin' wraps. I'm with Nathan on those - gross and nondescript. The burritos, I mean, and not Nathan. He's a pretty good guy.

As with most things, there's plusses and minuses here. First, it's in the refrigerator section, and not frozen. This means there's a definite fresher quality to the whole shebang that plays out through things like tortilla and egg texture, and there's no chance of any frozen little chunks here or there which torpedo any decent shot at breakfast. Indeed, everything's pretty on point in that regard. To heat, there's both oven and microwave options, which Sandy and I tried both - the oven, unsurprisingly, is the superior option by far, with the tortilla getting nice and crackery-cripsy, as opposed to soft and flaky and crumbly and kinda limp. Of course, you might not always have half an hour to heat a breakfast burrito, and if you did, you could probably easily make a better one yourself, so there's that.

Each element is good and solid in its own right - tortilla is representative, the eggs of decent quality, the cheese present but lacking much distinction, and the chicken sausage and potatoes holding up their end of the deal. Problem is, there's kinda an overall lack of flavor. Nothing is good enough to really stand out on its own, and there's not even enough spice added to really do too much. Granted, this just means you could easily doctor with your favorite salsa or hot sauce or whatever else you wanted, if you wanted to. I kinda just wish there was something more to it - more sharpness to the cheddar, or more savoriness from the sausage, or a little peppery kick, or something - but nope.

Then there's the price. It's $3.99 for the burrito. That doesn't strike me as great bargain for something I have to heat myself and probably add more stuff to. Heck, my go-to breakfast sandwich of choice costs less and I can pile high with veggies and customize to my heart's content. Man, I love touchscreen menus...

Overall, the sausage breakfast wrap is a good, not great, bite. It fills a void and uses up a lot of your discretionary nutritional values for the day. Sandy and I shared a burrito both times we had it for breakfast, and with some fruit and coffee it was more than adequate to hold us over til lunch. But I struggle to see the point of its existence - it's not often I'd find going to TJ's more convenient than a drive-thru or convenience store for a bite. Plus, I've learned through too many embarrassing shirt stains that burritos are absolutely not meant to be consumed on the go, which this seems tailored to...just odd. Maybe I'm completely whiffing on something here. Can't seem to muster more than a halfhearted three for it, while Sandy goes in a little higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Deep Dish Chocolate Chip Cookie

In addition to fraternity hazing deaths, sports victory-inspired riots, and a few other things too heinous to even mention on this blog, my alma mater, Penn State, was well-known at least regionally, if not internationally, for a number of less controversial things—at least while I attended. There was the famous Berkey Creamery, mentioned previously several times on this blog. There was THON, the largest student-run philanthropy in existence. And then there were colorful—although some might use the term "legendary"—long-time residents like Mike the Mailman, Zam Man the zamboni driver, and Gary the Willard Preacher. 

And in between painful morning gen ed classes and those mandatory phys ed credits that manifested themselves in the form of underwater basket weaving or, in my case, squash, we'd duck in to the cafeteria at West Halls for some grub. Everybody knew they had the best food of any of the half-dozen or so dining commons on campus, and it was close to many of the larger classroom buildings. The food was always warm and fresh and somehow tasted less "institutional" than the other cafeterias. You'd meet your friends outside Waring Commons and then head in out of the cold for an hour or so to recover your strength and inhale a chicken cosmo or two...and it was all building up to one grand moment:  when the lunch ladies put a tray of piping hot, fresh-baked, ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies out on the dessert window.

Eighty percent of the room would hop out of their seats and rush to claim their cookies. In most cases, students would have prepared a glass of milk beforehand to have on stand-by. In other cases, they'd rush to the soft-serve machine to top their cookies with some vanilla ice cream. For a few minutes, we'd all commune in a moment of pure bliss greater than that following a win at Beaver Stadium, an aced mid-term, or finding out that your favorite band just booked a show at The Crowbar. Chocolate Chip Cookie Nirvana.

This offering from Trader Joe's is the closest thing to that particular brand of ecstasy since those days at Dear Old State. It's got the perfect amount of smooth chocolate chips and soft, chewy sweet cookie goodness. Like the West Halls cookies, this one is best served fresh out of the oven, accompanied by generous quantities of milk and/or vanilla ice cream. The "deep dish" breading is much thicker than any traditional chocolate chip cookie I've ever had, but that's just another reason this confection rocks. The box includes microwave directions...but I'm going to go out on a limb and tell you to just go ahead and fire up the oven for this one.

It comes with an oven-safe tray, and it's very easy to heat, slice, and prepare. Despite its extreme softness, the cookie still maintained enough structural integrity that I was able to pull most of the slices out fully intact. The product melts in your mouth, goes down nice and easy, and would pass for restaurant-quality with flying colors.

The cookie sells for $3.99—a fair price, considering you're paying for quality ingredients and unadulterated scrumptiousness...but good luck getting 10 servings out of it. It's probably more like four.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip

So this weekend is the Super Bowl!

Whoop-de-doo.

A couple years ago, I could plop down, turn any old football game (much less the biggest one of the year) and be reasonably entertained. These days? Not so much. Not exactly sure why, but pigskin doesn't have the same appeal to me in the past few seasons. I didn't even watch the Super Bowl, opting for a date out with my wife including going to emptiest Cheesecake Factory ever. I've watched maybe five games over the past three seasons. My guess is, watching a bunch of big guys in tights run around, fight over a ball, smack each other senseless with concussions, only for every play to be dissected in slo-mo for ten agonizing minutes on "instant replay" with continued live look-ins to whatever funny grimace the head coach is making just doesn't hold the same appeal to me, and for my small amount of attention I can give the sports world, I choose to devote it to baseball.

It's kinda the same for Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip. I'm not sure how this blog has been around for like eight years and we've never mentioned this product...but it's true. If the TJ queso would have come up in review rotation years back, I'd probably LOVE this stuff. I mean, it's semi-spicy-salsafied cheese, how can it go wrong?

Well, for whatever reason, it just doesn't cut it for me any more. Sandy and I picked up the diminutive jar for a recent taco night in the name of trying something different. Shoulda sticked to the classics. The cheese is kinda runny and gloppy and absolutely needs to be warmed to be palatable. I tried some cold just now to revisit the taste - cold, clammy, and kinda booger-y. Not recommended.

It's apparently some sort of cheese blend that's primarily cheddar according to the ingredient label. I will grant that it's better quality nacho cheese than the stadium standard yellow sauce. But not by all that much. There's still a fake, salty taste to it. The spices and peppers do convey a little warm heat, but is generally inoffensive. If anything, it tastes a little more towards pickled and vinegar than actual heat. Overall, it's just not an impressive product.

Anyways, if you need a dip for the game, go for it. You could do worse, I'm sure. But I'll be looking for something else, as I am planning on watching at least some this weekend. I grew up an Eagles fan and am watching more out of obligation than anything, even though I can't tell you in 100% certainty if Doug Pederson is the head coach or quarterback after that Wentz guy got some sort of big ouchie. Won't have too much feeling about the outcome either way, I'm sure. Kinda the same for the TJ queso dip - mehs abound.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda and Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda

Rhubarb. 

I know you can make a pie from it, though I don't think I've ever had one. I know it's celery-esque and looks like a vegetable. 

And that's about it. That's a comprehensive summary of my personal knowledge of rhubarb up to this point. Sure, I Googled it and informed myself a bit more just now, but I never had any idea what it tasted like until I tried this soda.

Elderflower is a similar mystery to me. I assumed it was a type of flower that perhaps grows on the same plant as elderberries..? I'm apparently correct on both of those assumptions, although I'm guessing a good percentage of our readers could elaborate on the elder bush a great deal more than I am able to—and if you care to flaunt your botanical expertise in the comments section, I invite you to do so to your heart's content.

But evaluating something brand new with few preconceived notions can be a good thing.

First thoughts on the rhubarb strawberry soda: VERY unique. Like strawberry, but significantly more tart. Perfect amount of sweetness and carbonation. Just different enough from a run-of-the-mill sweet soda that it's worth a try simply for the novelty of the experience.

And the lemon elderflower offering? Similarly unique, but not to the same degree. Like a Wink, Fresca, or Squirt type soda, but with more true lemon flavor and an unexpected flowery essence. I'd generally prefer the classic citrus sodas over this Trader Joe's beverage. Sonia thinks there's something guava-esque going on here. I don't know if I'd put it like that, but I do agree that there's an odd aftertaste vaguely similar to that of guava. It doesn't taste like guava per se, but it confuses the tongue in a similar manner, if that makes sense.

We both like the rhubarb & strawberry soda slightly more than the lemon elderflower one. I wasn't expecting that going into it, since I tend to enjoy any and all citrus sodas, and products like Strawberry Fanta are palatable, but certainly not the first drink I'd reach for on a regular basis.

Considering the diminutive size of these cans, I think $3.49 is a bit steep. Each 8.4 oz can is just barely enough to quench my thirst at any given moment. I could easily go through all four in a single day. The quality here is very high. Good ingredients. Interesting flavors. Sonia and I would both consider buying the rhubarb & strawberry again for a special occasion. Sonia will go with four and a half stars on the strawberry and an even four for the lemon. I'll go a full star less than that on both.

Trader Joe's Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda: Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit

This probably doesn't come as any sort of huge surprise or shocker, but...salad, in general, doesn't really excite me.

Most veggies are perfectly fine. I can eat broccoli, Brussel sprouts, squash, etc all day long. At the continued shock of my coworkers, I'll happily eat plain raw spinach at my desk. Aside from beets, off the top of my head, there's not a single vegetable I can think of that I don't like...still, salad leaves me ambivalent at best.

Maybe it's mixing up veggies. Maybe it's my usual distaste for many salad dressings. Or maybe it's just kinda the boring hum-drum that I find most salads to be, especially of the pre-packaged variety.

All that to say, I was kinda excited to try out Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit. Don't let the name fool you - slaw? Psshhh. It's salad all chopped up in shreds.

I wish I didn't get my hopes up so high.

There's nothing inherently wrong with the slaw kit. But there's nothing overly right, either. It's the same usual base blend of carrots, broccoli stalks, cabbage and kale in roughly equal proportion to one another. That part is good, but formulaic enough now for TJ's kits that it's not exactly meant as a heap of praise either. It's just kinda a given at this point. Fresh, crisp, crunchy, all that excellent stuff...

...but moving on to what should be the exciting stuff, right? The extras and mix-ins! This is where salads make or break it. First up: dried apricot tidbits! Always a fun add...if there were enough to go around. Not this time. We got only a small spoonful which is hard to split up in multiple meaningful portions. A small nice touch, as were the pepitas, for a little crunch and all, but again nothing too remarkable.

And the dressing? Ugh. "Tahini orange" it says. So sesame, with a citrus flair, so it could work, but there's also this vinegar-y presence that kinda muffs it all up. Much like my three year old when choosing between dinosaurs or trucks for her night-night pull-up, it's just so indecisive and kinda frustrating. Like, it should be good, but instead just gets in its own way. Sandy said it kinda tastes like nothing. I disagree - it tastes like something, just I have no idea what it should be. And instead of tying up the whole salad as a nice cohesive dish, it kinda makes the salad a turnoff.

Oh well. It's not a terrible price at $3, and I appreciate the ampersand in the title for what it's worth. They seem to be disappearing from TJ product names, as are the different Joes from around the world. Times are a-changin' I guess. But my general ambivalence towards salads is not. Both Sandy and I give it a pretty middlin' score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's For the Love of Chocolate Mousse Cake

About this same time last year, I waxed poetic about love and marriage, inspired by some heart-shaped cookies from Trader Joe's. It was easy to get inspired both because my wife, Sonia, is pretty awesome, and because those cookies were surprisingly good. I mentioned how I disliked Valentine's Day, and how silly that ubiquitous traditional heart shape is—you know, the one this chocolate mousse cake is in. I'd much rather eat an anatomically-correct heart cake, especially from one of the few stores that might just be quirky enough to carry something that bizarre someday.

In the above-mentioned Raspberry Hearts review, I rambled on about sentimental nonsense and how "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and yadda yadda yadda inspirational what-have-you and "hope is just around the corner" type jazz. And of course the universe seized the opportunity to dish out one of the most challenging and difficult years of our adult lives. 

Well, my friends, I've decided to no longer dispense "wisdom" of any kind and to pout like a toddler until the universe lets up on us for a while. There'll be no "rising above the storm" this year. If things are as difficult this year as they were last year, I'll do nothing but complain and whine and moan like a bratty child, and we'll see if that strategy tricks whoever's in charge up there into giving up the whole "refining them in the fire" business or whatever's been going on lately.

I hope you all understand that I'm mostly just kidding. And of course, our troubles are not unique. I'm well aware of that. I'm frequently reminded of the age-old quote, often attributed to Plato: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Truer words were never spoken.

Ahem, on to the food review. 

There's a pleasant chocolate cake smell that wafts out from the plastic container right when the lid is removed. The presentation is quite nice, and the price is just right for a thoughtful little V-day gift for your significant other—$3.99.

The texture's just a tad stiffer than I would have imagined...and I won't say the cake is "dry" by any means, but it's not particularly moist, either. It tastes like multiple variations of chocolate and chocolate cake layered on one another, and it's pretty sweet, plenty choco-riffic, and would serve as an adequate dessert for the end of an average meal. It reminded us of the Chocolate Mousse Pumpkins we had, which of course are remarkably similar to the Chocolate Mousse Eggs, reviewed on this blog a couple years ago. I think Sandy Shelly said it best when she called them "kinda like a fancy Little Debbie." This product is no different, except it's much larger than a single Little Debbie snack cake.

The overall value and presentation isn't bad, so we won't besmirch it too greatly. A cake isn't a person, but we'll be kind anyway. I promise this won't be the best chocolate mousse or chocolate cake you've ever had, but there's a good chance it won't be the worst, either. Three stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites

Let's have a moment of honesty here, please.

Do you really need me to tell you to go out and get Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites as a big ol' baggie of snacky nom-noms? Look, it's churros. In a snack sack. No baking. No nothing. Just ready to go, rip open and inhale.

Likewise, did I really need to put on that facade around my wife on our most recent TJ's trip? I did a whole "Well I heard these were good so I think just maybe we should try them if only for the blog. You know, for science...yeah...that's it. Science" bit. Honey, please. There was no way I was not leaving without at least one package of churrolicious snackage, and it's not like I really had to twist my anyone's arm over it, either.

It's churros, AKA one of my favorite co-opted delights from our southern neighbors. Probably one of yours too. And now in highly convenient, prepackaged form, because 'merica. That's how we do it.

And true to fom, these churritos are muy delicioso.

Think of warm, soft, crispy outside/doughy inside churros, coated all over with cinnamon, but translated into big, crunchy, nugget form. That's what we got going on here. Tastewise, they're spot on, with strong notes of brown sugar and carmelization and all out comfort vibe. They're delectable as is, but they're begging to be paired with ice cream or fondue dip or whatever else. There's even a little requisite greasiness - no napkin worthy, but a good lick of the fingertips afterwards is the right idea. So it's pretty slight. Speaking of slight, there is the ittiest-bittiest hint of vanilla in the crispified batter, which adds a real nice, wholesome touch. Me gusta.

The nugget form works too, all things considered. When it comes down to it, I do prefer the soft doughiness of fried churros, but these baked guys get it done. The insides are airy and flakey but pack plenty of crunch, with even a little slight creaminess to it, like a good pastry, almost. The texture reminds me of something but I can't quite put my finger on it...maybe it'll come to me. But the corn flour makes a harder outer shell, with plenty of give inside, while still being sturdy all around. I guess kinda like a giant baked Corn Puff...but better.

So yeah, you don't really need me to tell ya about these! Chances are, if this is even remotely your kinda thing, you're on them already. But hey, we need you, our fans. It's where we get some of our best suggestions. One of our Facebook superfans, Ruthie, recommended warming in the over for a few minutes, which I wouldn't have thought of myself...a great idea! Added crunch and carmelization, though be careful, they do burn quick as I found out. And as something new, there's an already pretty great TJ's fan page on Reddit that you can join - I (Russ) just did to share ideas, tips, and fun. Hope to see you on there - I'm WGaTJ_Russ on there.

Enjoy, amigos.



Bottom line: Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coffee Syrup

In May of last year, I was slowly coming down out of a caffeine-induced psychotic break of sorts, desperately trying to regain my grip on reality, all the while dealing with some pretty heavy family and business stuff, weaning myself off bean-based brewed stimulants, and catching precious moments of shut-eye whenever the opportunity presented itself. Sometime during that java-driven haze, I became vaguely aware of this coffee syrup's existence. Neither my body nor my mind could have handled such a product at that juncture, so we steered clear of it last spring. 

By the end of the summer, according to multiple online reports, this product had been discontinued. Part of me was relieved, as the pressure to review such a dangerous substance had been lifted. I didn't want to fall off the wagon so soon and return to my caffeinated coma for many more months. But another part of me pined for the opportunity to taste a product that by many accounts was not only one of the best offerings of Trader Joe's 2017 coffee craziness, but perhaps one of their greatest coffee products of all time.

Well, friends, Trader Joe's Coffee Syrup is BACK, and IT. IS. HEAVENLY. It was prominently displayed on the "new products" shelf at the Wilmington, Delaware store. Nothing but cane sugar, water, and coffee. And that's all it needs.

Yeah, sure, there are other coffee syrups out there...and likely one of them is Trader Joe's third party supplier, though I couldn't tell you which one. And I certainly can't vouch for those other brands, but I can tell you that this stuff is divine.

It pours like a maple or agave syrup, though just slightly thinner. The thinness makes for easy mixing with milk, coffee, or your beverage of choice. It's still thick enough to make an excellent ice cream topping though, and the flavor blends seamlessly with vanilla. I tried a spoonful straight. It's got a strong coffee flavor just by itself, but it's also very sweet. I imagine it's not unlike a spoonful of Cold Brew Coffee Concentrate with equal parts liquid cane sugar mixed in. And yes, if one were so inclined, he could drink this stuff straight out of the bottle, though few would find the intensity pleasant after a sip or two.

I'm not even really a "coffee guy," as I've stated many times on this blog, but I must say this is quite possibly the best-tasting coffee item I've ever sampled in my life. My mochaphile wife was even more impressed. She's not only in love with java, but she appreciates many coffee-flavored treats and desserts as well. Up to this point, her favorite coffee-flavored dessert has been Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream—and she's in awe of this product's ability to approximate the flavor and quality of the Haagen Dazs offering when combined with vanilla ice cream. In this case, we used Humboldt Organic Vanilla, readily available at TJ's in our area.

It's actually awesome on pancakes, in place of traditional maple syrup. We haven't gone there yet, but rumor has it this product mixes well with certain cocktails. Its flavor isn't too far from that of Kahlua, so I'm thinking makeshift White Russians or Mudslides...? The possibilities are endless. Let us know what weird and crazy things you do with the stuff in the comments below...though, um...keep it family friendly, if you know what I mean ;-)

Sonia and I haven't added anything to the Pantheon in nearly a year and a half, so it's high time we bestow that honor once again. Five stars from Sonia. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce

"Hooray for flu season!" - No One Ever.

Huzzah, Here it is again, flu season. I'm writing this review on Day 6 of a Tamiflu dosing regimen. Normally I wouldn't go that far, but poor Sandy had a confirmed case last week, and with small kids and their germs and whatever else in the house, I ain't taking my chances. We've been spared much of the worst symptoms, but the congestion and coughs and everything else...ugh. The temps pingponging between the 50s and 60s back down to the negatives surely isn't helping. We're also doing some nice home remedies...chicken soup, honey, hot tea, warm bathes, all that stuff...

And you know what else helps with those? Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce. Seriously.

I'm not gonna sit here and purport to be any sort of zhoug expert. Heck, I don't even know how to pronounce it - zoog? zog? zawwwg? zowg? - and will admit it's my first go around. But apparently it's a pretty common concoction in Middle East cuisine - the package here says Yemen, some online sources seem to tie zhoug to more Israeli roots. Regardless, if I saw zhoug as a menu option somewhere I'd be reluctant to try it, but this TJ's take has me 100% on board with giving it a further try.

What TJ's zhoug seems most to me like is a cilantro pesto sauce with plenty of kick. That's really the other feel of the sauce - oily, herbaceous, and very, very green. No pine nuts or anything like that, though. It's not as overpoweringly cilantro-y as I thought it'd be, must be some conjuring in there somewhere.

Beware though - it's spicy. And that's an understatement. It's sneaky, though. It might not be on your first bite. And maybe not til your fifth or so. But out of nowhere - BOOM. It will get you. If it's enough to get abrupt notice from me, it's potent as all get out. It hit me on the first shot, with subsequent bites not nearly as powerful. Not sure if it's the jalapenos or chile powder or what - it's not a distinct enough of a heat to attribute the sauce, it's just plain HOT.

But yeah - that was a few hours ago at time at time of writing. And I'd be danged if my sinuses don't feel 100% better. Your mileage may vary.

Sandy and I devoured on crackers as a dip, but I think this would be good on most anything. Our dinner tonight was shrimp and cheese raviolis - that would have worked. Eggs, chicken, other noodle dishes, rice, dips, in a wrap - yes to all of those. It needs to be a little more even to score higher, but as is, both Sandy and I are pretty happy to have dropped the $2 on the tub. Give it a try, it's nothing to sneeze at.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Zhoug Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Vegetable Pastry Puffs

For a moment, Sonia and I were thinking that this product came without the funky red tapenade-esque substance you see on top of the pastries, since the packaging plainly states "serving suggestion." The last time we encountered that little trick, there was no sauce included. But these puffs did indeed come crowned with what is apparently "herbes de provence."

Ours didn't puff up quite as much as the ones on the cover art, and they came out significantly more greasy than what we were expecting, but they were still moderately enjoyable nonetheless. The breading was soft and moist, and the topping was like a thick pasta sauce flavored with sun-dried tomatoes and herbs—French herbs, apparently. The squares were quite small, but there's a 5 x 5 grid in the pack, for a total of 25 of them.

Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three from me. $3.99 for the box, imported from France. It's a lackluster appetizer, presentation-wise, but if you've a hankering for some soft dough topped with tangy tomato sauce, this'll hit the spot. Sonia made a video sharing her opinion of the product, and it features the nutrition info and shots of the appetizer itself, as well:

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies

Hrmm, let's see. Gluten free. Oats. Cranberries. Gulp...flax seeds.

And in a cookie too? What? Jeez oh man, what kinda healthy hippie treehuggin' BS are we about to get suckered into by Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies?

Okay, yeah, that's a bit extrreme. But is it okay if I admit I wasn't thrilled about picking up and buying this sixpack of cookies? I mean, I like cookies in almost every way, shape and form...just ask my family around the holidays...but, this? These don't sound like a treat to me. Instead, these cookies, on first pre-sampling impression, seem to be one of those gimmicky "Well if you're gonna eat snacky doodads, make them healthy ones!" products that seem to always suspiciously spring up right around New Years.

For the two, maybe three bucks, I figured worst case we could throw them outside on a snowy day if we didn't like them. You know, for our winged friends. Bird suet. Because that's how they sounded to me...

Jumping Jack Flash, these are a smash, smash, smash.

Seriously. These are awesome. I can think of no other word. Usually when I think "gluten free" I think stiff and cardboardy (or in the case of most anything made with rice flour, damp newspaper-y), but that is so absolutely not the case here. Soft, crumbly, slightly chewy, as if they're almost pulled from the oven, the texture on these cookies is simply unbelievable. From pure mouhtfeel standpoint, these are amongst the tops I've ever laid my teeth too. And that's saying a lot.

The oats make a good earthy base for the batter, perfect for the slight tartness of the cranberries to stand out. I almost wish there was a nut like some almonds just for a little added harvest-esque touch, but the cookies don't suffer much from their absense. To be honest, I didn't notice the flax seeds much one way or another, so I'll take that as an overall positive. Can't let too much hippieness get between you and a good cookie.

I'm impressed, Sandy's impressed. Gonna stock up on these suckers and try to hide from our growing group of kiddos. These are some of the rare store bought cookies that I know I couldn't make better myself. It's been a while since we've crowned something as an inner circle hall of famer, but it seems due now. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...a perfect score. Now go out and get 'em!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Oat Cranberry Flax Seed Cookies: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons