Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt

There's a few classic blunders and major pitfalls out there. You know most of them already: reading the comments on almost any Internet article (except here, y'all are great), getting involved in land wars in Asia or going up aginst a Sicilian when death is on the line. No duhs on any of those.

Another one or two is true in our house; Sandy and I have a rule we don't really talk about anything too in depth before we have coffee, and to not nag her for a bite of anything she's eating, especially on a busy morning after she's refueling from a marathon training run, and before she has a long hot day with our kiddos. Plus, please, our kids always want to eat what she's eating, so she doesn't need me to ask her for a bite of anything...

...except a smallish blunder was made on her part, when she bought only one cup of Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt. I needed something to review, and apparently this stuff has been all the buzz on TJ's related Instagram, so I broke all sorts of household rules in order just to get two measly little bites from which I am basing this entire review, along with help from my lovely bride.

This TJ's Greek yogurt is much like others: creamy, a bit tangy, appropriately thick. Kinda par for the course in that regard. In my albeit limited tasting, the flavor strayed a lot more towards coconut than almond butter, which to me makes sense given the general comparative richness of the two. Almond butter has always been a very sublte flavor for me. But, definitely heavy on the shredded coconut. Along with some fruit and coffee, I could see this being a very filling breakfast, though perhaps not one I'd be inclined to do too often. I'm just not cultured enough to be much of a yogurt guy.

Sandy, though, disagrees with me. She said the almond butter is a much stronger flavor, whereas shemore "felt" the coconut. That doesn't jive with my experience, but I'd be more inclined to believe her many spoonfuls to my few.

But we both agree it's good, not earthshattering yogurt. Perhaps it was her endorphins winding down or her caffeination not quite kicked in yet, but Sandy was pretty ho-hum about it. "It's good," she said. "I'd definitely buy it again, but it's not going to be my new go-to yogurt." Make of that what you will, and before any more blunders are made, let's wrap this up.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almond Butter Coconut Greek Low Fat Yogurt: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Almond, Cashew & Macadamia Nut Beverage

If you're looking for a delicious drinkable dessert, look elsewhere. If you're looking for a nut-tastic vegan alternative to animal milk, this might just be the product for you.

On the plus side, the beverage is surprisingly NOT chalky. It's smooth—and it's about as nutty as I ever imagined a beverage could be. Both Sonia and I wanted to call it "creamy" at first, but after thinking about it, we realized it's a much thinner liquid than anything we'd call "creamy." Not a bad thing. Just not as thick as other types of "milk." Maybe that's why it's a "beverage" and not a "milk." Color-wise, it's...well, milky—but perhaps a bit grayer than other milks and nut beverages.

Taste-wise? It's not sweet at all—like regular cow's milk with its lactose milk sugar is significantly sweeter to my tongue than this stuff. No sweeteners in that ingredients list at all. At only 30 calories per cup, I don't exactly think Trader Joe's is targeting the cookie butter crowd with this one. 

I will say that it works well on cereal, especially if the cereal is a sweet one, or one that's already got a nutty flavor to it. It'll tone down the sweetness of a super-sweet cereal, and in the process, the nut beverage will get a little tastier with that cereal sugar on it, making it even better when you slurp the excess from the bowl. Nut-based cereals with this beverage on them shall be elevated to über-nutty status.

I was surprised to see there's very little protein in the beverage, since nuts tend to have a good bit of it. I guess all the protein gets squeezed out in the liquefying process..? 

Soy milk seems to be on the decline as far as alternative milks go. And filling the void are cashew and almond beverages. Combine those two and add macadamias? Brilliant. It's a little difficult to detect all three nut flavors individually. Sonia seems to think she detected macadamia the most. I felt like they all just blended together. At $2.29 for a quart, it's priced comparably to other alternative milk products. I probably wouldn't reach for this after a day out in the 100 degree summer heat, but I'd be perfectly happy pouring it on my corn flakes or in my coffee. Four stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives

You've heard of the summer of love...this summer just might be the summer of olives here.

Years ago, if you would have told me that my lovely bride would like olives that weren't just of the canned and black variety, I would have laughed. That's just not what she did...along with many other foods.  Like meatloaf or steak or most red meats or Thai food or chili or pickles or most veggies or anything. I remember asking with trepidation when we were dating if it'd be okay if I made her chocolate chip cookies. I had a really picky girlfriend, apparently, which really adds to the confusion of why she ever picked me.

Now she loves all that stuff, pretty sure me as well, and when she does something like pick up some olives and other cool goodies off a grocery store salad bar to bring home for dinner, it's just not terribly surprising. We've done that a few times recently. The slightly pickled garlic cloves? Awesome! Time changes you, I guess.

Still, Sandy's pretty hesitant about Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives. She hasn't tried them, still kinda sticking to her claim that she doesn't like green olives.

I'll get her to, though. Oh I will. Unless I eat all of them first.

I've never heard of a "chalkidiki" olive before. Apparently they're named after a region of Greece and are basically just big and green. That's more or less how they taste as well - big and green, and perhaps a little firmer than the smaller, pimento stuffed olives I'm more accustomed to from growing up.

The creamy cheese filling is pretty delicious, too. Took me a second or thrid read when I noticed the lack of usual bleu cheese bite...but it's not "bleu" cheese, it's "blue" cheese." Well, whatever. It's soft and creamy, a lot  like cream cheese, and jives really well with the olive to make a cool, refreshing, salty snack or addition to antipasto platter.

And typing this I just realized the true appeal to me...

Growing up, on occasion, my mom would make us cream cheese and olive sandwiches. Maybe that sounds odd, but they're delicious. Granted, they were made with those aforementioned pimentoed olives and Philadelphia cream cheese, and the ingredients in these Greek-inspired TJ's olives are perhaps a little fancier than that. But there's still a familiar, yet fancier vibe. I dig it.

It's only a couple bucks for a huge jar. I think it's about $3 or $, but I've misplaced the receipt so I'm open to correction. It strikes me as a decent enough value, and something I hope we pick up on a regular basis this summer as we swelter through and hot dinners just don't sound as appetizing while living in a 100 year old, well insulated brick house with no AC. It's like a Thermos. Great in winter, but not right now. Unlike this olives...if it's the summer of olives, bring it on.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blue Cheese Stuffed Chalkidiki Olives: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Grilled Jerk Chicken Thigh Skewers

I know it's kind of juvenile and gross, but I just can't get the idea out of my head that these are somehow gophers or other small rodents just plopped on sticks and fire roasted au naturale—like something you'd see Bear Grylls whip up for supper in a far-flung mountain range. I mean, clearly, they were cooked on a grill (I hope), since they come with grill marks already on them, but their size and shape—and even their texture to some degree—suggests that they could be something other than chicken.

I'm not saying they ARE any of those non-poultry animals. When the ingredients say "chicken," I'm not so cynical YET as to simply disbelieve it outright. I'm just saying there's something foreign about the texture here. It's not a bad texture, it's just an odd texture for chicken if you ask me.

It's mysteries like these that are steering Sonia and I away from meat altogether. Sonia actually sat this one out, proudly waving her newfound pescatarian flag high. At this point in the game, I'm more "flexitarian," happily seizing the opportunity to review jerk chicken for this blog as my only meaty meal in the past week or two.

So yeah. Unusual, but not terrible, in the texture department. The chicken was super soft. It came off the sticks in juicy little bite-sized chunks and didn't need a lot of chewing. Not rubbery in the slightest. Still, there was the suggestion that the chicken was processed along with a good bit of fat, gristle, and skin, and wasn't just traditional dark meat thigh pieces.

Flavor-wise, these aren't nearly intense enough to bear the label "jerk chicken" in my humble opinion. I've only had Jamaican jerk chicken twice in my life, and both times, there was a much more significant kick to the spice. There's just enough here to be flavorful. There is a mild lingering heat to this product, though, that shows up a little late to the party. Especially when masked by the semi-sweet mango chutney, there's very little spiciness up front. For that reason, I would have just as readily consumed the skewers with some good old-fashioned barbecue sauce as I would something so exotic as pureed mango and chutney spices.

Six skewers in the box for $5.49. Decent value. They're better than the other chicken skewers we used to see around TJ's, but that's not saying a whole lot. I doubt I'd get them again, but glad I tried them. I'm torn between 3 and 3.5 stars, so we'll go with one of each since I'm scoring on behalf of Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins

Is it okay to admit that I'm not fully understanding of the entire concept behind the new Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins?

This much is easy to grasp: there's a direct, and fairly easy, comparison to be made between these cookies and the all time classic Girl Scout Thin Mints. As if the "chocolate covered chocolate mint cookie" isn't obvious by its lonesome, the TJ's packaging hones in by showing a campground, tents, a sing-along campfire song on the side (because why not)...and even a cut out "hibiscosity" merit badge of sorts. That's cool and all, I get it.

Seems like the word "coins" throws it all off though. Having never been a Girl Scout myself (and flaking out of Boy Scouts not long after making Tenderfoot class), I'm not aware of any connections between scouting and coins...I could be wrong and ignorant, and perhaps somewhat rationally so, but it seems a better name would be something like "badges" or "try-its" or even just plain "cookies."

Although on the other hand, I do somewhat get the coin label, as the cookies are about quarter sized in diameter, and they were minted at point of origin...it's a bit too confusing. Ayy.

Back to the Thin Mint deal. There's a lot of similarities between them and these TJ's chocolate mint discs, but I'll focus on the differences. First, the size. TJ's minty wafers are definitely smaller and perhaps a bit thicker. They also taste a little different...can I say "fudgier"? That's the word that comes to mind. It may be the darker variety of chocolate. There's also seemingly a small dent/reservoir of extra chocolate in the middle of the TJ's cookies that adds a slightly richer element. So while I'd say the two are close, I wouldn't say they're completely identical.

Although both are really good frozen, which is especially nice this time of year.

One knock: the packaging. Inside the TJ's box, these cookies are kept in a little plastic bag, as one would expoect. Thing is, the bag looks only half full. Listen, I get the "sold by weight, not by volume" and "some settling may occur" but it's like these are fragile cookies that got smashed into bits, freeing up previously filled space. Nah...instead, whether fair or not, the half baggie of coins gives the perception of getting shortchanged.

Regardless, these are pretty delicious cookies, as one would expect. At only a couple bucks, these coins won't set you back a lot of change. Glad to have scouted them out for you.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mini Dark Chocolate Mint Coins: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Camel Milk Soap and Trader Joe's Mouth Wash with Tea Tree Oil & Cool Mint

We're just taking a brief break from food here and trying something different. If you like it, click the Facebook "like" button below and share the post with your friends. If you don't like it, click the Facebook "like" button below, share it with your friends, and leave a comment letting us know what a stupid idea it was.

In all honesty, I'm very picky about mouthwash. I like Listerine—or more accurately, generic Listerine that comes from Dollar Tree. If it doesn't burn my mouth like crazy, I'm highly skeptical of its antiseptic and breath-freshening abilities. I'm not saying my breath wasn't minty after using Trader Joe's Mouth Wash. But it left an odd aftertaste long after I rinsed and brushed my teeth.

The soap had a faintly sweet odor. I thought it was reminiscent of oatmeal soap with a hint of honey. It left Sonia's skin silky smooth. I didn't feel like it made much of a difference on mine. Another interesting property of the soap: it dried off very quickly. Other soaps remain slippery and slimy for a long while after being wet. This soap felt oddly drained just moments after being wet—still waxy and smooth, but with a complete lack of that slippery slime.

For Sonia's thoughts, check out the short video below.



Bottom line: Camel Milk Soap with Olive Oil and Honey: 7 out of 10.
Bottom line: Mouth Wash with Tea Tree Oil & Cool Mint: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte

So..anyone have an interesting story or anecdote or joke or anything about a peach tart?

No?

Me neither.

So that makes the kickoff of this review of Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte a little more difficult and less fun...until the Internet came to the rescue, yet again.

Here I was, just brushing up on the differences between pies and tarts, when I came across this potentially interesting info burst: this tart (pardon moi, tarte) is really more a gallete than anything else.

Rounded, kinda non-defined in form, fruit filled with crust folding over a bit and baked on a sheet? Yes to all of the above. Call it what it is, TJ's - this is a gallete.

Aside from the inadvertant culinary education and cultural refinement, there's not much this peachy pie parodist really offers. I mean, it's okay and all. The crust seems the right amount of flaky and firm, the peaches won't be confused for picked fresh or canned, and the cream portion (if I can even call it that) is a bit underwhleming. Sandy actually wondered aloud about the last part - really, it's just a thin spread between the fruit and crust, and it can be easily overlooked.

The fruit filling borders on a bit too syrupy sweet, though. I've had this weird lingering aftertaste for the past while after having a slice, and it's not entirely pleasant. Maybe it'd be dissipated if served with a little vanilla ice cream or something.

But yeah, not that special, not that great. The TJ peach and cream tart cost about $5 and took half an hour in the oven to warm up, and for that, I'd say it's probably not worth it. I'd hate to ding too much, but I'm struggling of outright positive things to really say. Sandy can't muster any more than a middlin' three, and I feel compelled to be a little lower. I mean, if it can't even be called the right thing...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peaches & Cream Tarte: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Peach Bellini Jam

It's the new PBJ that you put on your bread. No, not peanut butter & jelly. Peach Bellini Jam.

As you might have heard in the recent Repeat Customer podcast episode, it has real Prosecco wine in it...you know, like an actual peach bellini cocktail. Sonia and I had a friend back in California that made a mean peach bellini drink, with real peaches and a nice peach wine. I don't think I've ever had one at a bar or restaurant or anything like that, but Jenny, if you're reading this, know that I miss those peach bellinis.

This jam is full of pureed peach bits, giving it a nice fruit base, but it's closer to the texture of marmalade than that of the similarly-packaged and marketed Apple Cider Jam. It's sweet like a real peach, but honestly, I was pretty surprised at the lack of cloying, syrupy stickiness. It takes some restraint to make something this well-balanced, relying on the true flavors of the peaches and the wine, rather than just dumping loads of sugar in the jar and appealing to a consumer's sugar habit. Don't get me wrong, cane sugar is the number one ingredient—but it's just exactly as sweet as it's supposed to be, IMHO.

For you Puritans who steer clear of spirits, don't worry. There's just enough white wine flavor to be detected, but there's absolutely nothing to suggest even a hint of harsh alcohol taste in the product. 

It goes well with butter and bread, and you could probably use it as an ice cream topping, smoothie ingredient, basting sauce, and Trader Joe's website even suggests drizzling it "on a salad of summer greens." Neither Sonia nor I have many complaints. I'm cheap, and I have trouble justifying the purchase of a gourmet condiment that will possibly be gone in just a day or two, but $3.99 is a very reasonable price for a product with such high-quality ingredients. You do get what you pay for. And this product is just peachy.

Double fours on this one.

As a friend of mine used to say as he exited the room, "It's time to make like jelly and JAM."

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.