Trader Joe's Mint Flavored Fudge Brownie Bar

Earlier this week when writing about the roasted cauliflower dip, I wrote that I dislike when I ate a lot of something and don't know if I like it or not.

You know what else stinks? Not particularly enjoying something that it seems like everyone does.

It invites too many questions. Is the product somehow defective? Did I perhaps lose some portion allotment lottery where I just so happened to receive the least choice segment that is so unlike the rest of it? Is there something wrong with me? Am I too picky? Do my taste buds work right? Do I need to see a doctor?

Such as it is with Trader Joe's Mint Flavored Fudge Brownie Bar.

No, I won't be shelling out any copays over it, but, man. Sandy and I picked this up to bring over to our good friends Mark and Emma's to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah. Figured between us and our kiddos we'd all really like it and it'd somehow match up pretty well with Emma's delicious homemade latkes (10 out of 10 Golden Spoons there).

Dessert time! Kids devoured it, as one would expect children with anything chocolate would do. Both Sandy and Emma oohed and aahed over it. I took a bite...and was not impressed.

First, the brownie portion is too small. I neglected to take a picture of the actual product but the pic on front is fairly representative. Vertically speaking, it's maybe half brownie before going into icing. I'm an icing guy. I love corner pieces of cake...but man, there needs to be something that can back that up as well. There's not enough brownie for all that rich icing, and what was there was kinda spongey. I'll give it somewhat a pass as this is a frozen product which we quick thawed in the microwave, perhaps with a different method of warming it'd turn out better.

And then, the icing.

Mint flavored? Puhleese.

Unless my tongue somehow came down with a Paula Deen version of the Midas touch, it all just tastes like butter. Butter butter butter. Where's the mint? There's maybe a scarce hint here or there, but really, it just tastes like rich, thick buttercream slabbed up on top.

The chocolate ganache does add a nice touch and for me brings the whole brownie bar back into the respectable realm, so there's that. It really needed to counteract the butteriness and pick up the brownie's slack, which it did. The ganache doesn't completely salvage the whole thing, but you'll never hear me say anything bad about ganache either.

Both Sandy and Emma admitted it could have been a lot more minty which would have upped their already positive opinion. So it's not all me...they're just more forgiving and tolerable, which is a good thing for Mark and me. Both lovely ladies graced the brownie bar with similar sentiments and scores: "Damn tasty...could have been more minty...rich and delicious though," they both more or less said before plopping about a 3.5 to 4 on it each? Me? I'd go a little lower, but seeing as that I just might be the outlier here, you may take my score with a grain of sugar.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mint Flavored Fudge Brownie: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cookies, Wafers, & Florentines... Oh, My!

A Belgian Cookie Butter Collection!? Oh wait. Nope. My bad. A Belgian Butter Cookie Collection. I read that wrong the first time. Must be the drugs talking...

You see, I just had some wisdom teeth extracted, and I've been out of commission for a couple days. I was pretty much out of commission for a few days leading up to the extractions because of the pain and the over-the-counter meds I was popping...at nearly double the recommended dosage.

Now I'm on the mend. But my mouth is still sore. So my lovely wife helmed another video review. Since we didn't have any TJ's beverages, soups, or soft pastas on hand to look at, we just decided to keep on keepin' on with the Christmas goodies we recently acquired. This one's all her. I may circle back and leave some thoughts here in the comments in a few days after my jaw is a little less sore.

Also, TJ's threw me a bone and made the very title of this product a tagline in and of itself. No creativity required on my part for that Facebook post. Good thing. My brain is still soggy.

Sonia liked some cookies a little better than others. You'll have to watch the video review to find out which ones. In case they're not easy enough to read in the video, you can see the nutrition info and ingredients at this link. You can actually also buy the cookies there, too. But we don't get any commission. Even though we should.



Sonia's overall final score: four out of five stars.

C'mon, Sonia. You give everything four stars...<grumpy face in my direction> okay, okay. Four out of five it is. And thank you for doing this review while I recover, Sonita.

So...we'll just double that score for now...

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip

Listening to the scratch and watching the smear of windshield wipers when you can't get them timed "just right" for the precipitation. Wearing wet socks. Reading something then forgetting it five minutes laster. Hitting the 0 instead of the o on the keyboard.

What do all of these have in common?

Mild annoyances. Stuff that's not even really a deal breaker for having a good day, but something that causes a sigh and crosses your mind that you'd rather not deal with.

Okay, the wet socks is probably an extreme example. That's a day killer right there. But I mentioned it with assumption that either the socks will dry quickly or a new pair will be obtained in short matter, because nobody wants to deal with that.

Oh, another thing on my list: eating almost all of something and not really being sure if I liked it or not.

Such as it were with Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip. Not gonna lie: I smashed this and smashed it hard the other night during a family "snacky dinner" where had some pastry pups and veggies and chips.

But did I like the dip? Tough to say. On a certain level, yes, I must have. "Creamy" is definitely the right word, and there's plenty of onion and garlic and a little herbal goodness. Still, I felt like it could use a little oomph, a little something more, like a hint of Parmesan or little more hear from some pepper. It's good, not great...I'm just glad it wasn't made ranchy.

The mouthfeel though...it could be a deal breaker for some. It's not exactly chunky but it's sure not smooth, either. The cauliflower chunks are small and plenty soft without too much bite, but it ju st kinda feels a bit off, like in the same regard if not the same way as lumpy mashed potatoes. Either all chunky would be fine, or all smooth, but in the middle? Nah.

I'm not sure if this makes sense, but I'm thinking this TJ's veggie dip would be almost better as a soup somehow. Sure, it'd have to be reconfigured a bit...but this could be a really darn good soup IMHO. There's something potentially warm and earthy here which would be better expressed in soup form.

In all, it's not bad, I guess. I'd much prefer the TJ's cauliflower dip as part of a holiday veggie tray over most run-of-the-mill dips, but I'm not sure I'll be going out of my way for it either. It's in the freezer section for a few bucks and needs a couple minutes in the microwave to warm on up. Not bad overall, I'd say. Definitely better than wet socks.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Lebkuchen Cookies

I took three years of German in high school and one semester at Penn State to fulfill my foreign language requirement. One might think I regret choosing German over Spanish since I married into a Spanish-speaking family. I dunno. Even after 9 years of marriage, I'm still struggling to hablo some bueno Español, but all through those school years, the kids who took French, Spanish, and Latin wandered the halls, frazzled and frustrated, trying to cram for their latest vocab quiz, while the German students pranced around singing songs— "Sie liebt dich, ja, ja, ja!" —and looking forward to their next Deutsche Klasse.

There's just something about German that's intrinsically fun. In addition to the language, we learned exciting things about German culture like Oktoberfest, the speed limit-less highway known as the Autobahn, and even some pop culture tidbits via Deutsche Welle—like German music videos. For that reason, I think we retained a lot of what we learned. I don't recall specifically hearing about Lebkuchen, but as soon as I saw them at Trader Joe's, I immediately knew they were cookies—kuchen. According to Wikipedia, the "Leb" part of the equation is less clear, but I immediately assumed it came from the same root word as Leben, the German word for "life." I figured it must have been like the medieval German equivalent to that silliness that Millennials are always saying on social media: "These cookies are giving me life."

And they do indeed "give life." Their insides are vaguely reminiscent of another traditional German treat we looked at on this blog many years ago, but not quite as heavy on the spices. It's similar to gingerbread—soft and slightly chewy—almost spongy. There's a citrusy essence to them, as well, since they've got candied orange peel mixed in—it's not overbearing, though. Almonds, walnuts, and hazelnuts give them a nutty flavor. The chocolate coating is waxy, thin, and semi-sweet. It goes together with the bread pretty well, although the combination of the two textures is relatively foreign to both Sonia and I. The undersides of the cookies are like very thin wafers—yet a third distinct texture to add to the mix—although it's not as noticeable as the first two.

Although she was initially turned off by the sponginess of the inner-cookie, Sonia fell in love after a few bites, since the cookies paired so perfectly with coffee. She was happy to have a holiday snack that's a bit of a departure from the norm. No doubt someday our insatiable wanderlust will take us to international destinations like Deutschland, but until then, we're thankful to have snacks like these at Trader Joe's.

Double fours for these cookies.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Butter Toffee Pretzels

Let's see...don't have the actual spreadsheet available, so this'll all be from memory:

Pringles. Baked cheese curls. Most chips. Sour Patch Kids. Most sugary cereal. Peanut butter cups. Fun sized candy bars. Reese's Pieces. Nutella. Cookie butter. Sliced pepperoni. Other things I'm sure...

And add to it Trader Joe's Butter Toffee Pretzels.

That's my "do not buy" list. Not because I don't like them...it's quite the opposite problem. It's that I like them too much and I feel like I have no choice but to inhale them if given the chance.

My goodness. These are irresistible little buggers for sure. Pretzels are already pretty high on my list, particularly if paired with a little cheese...but these are something else altogether.

Maybe it's the crunchiness of the pretzel (solid) mixed with the crispiness of the butter toffee shell that's semi-caked on. Maybe it's the irresistible combo of butter and sugar...seriously, that glaze is full of amaze. It's rich and sugary without going too far, and when hit with a hefty dose of salt from the pretzel...man, it's like heaven. I love it. The inherent grainy goodness of the pretzel base ties it all together...I could eat the whole bag and have only a small dose of guilt. That'd probably be made up for with a new cavity and/or the diabeetus.

Poor Sandy. We picked up a bag last week before she ran the Philly marathon. For the record, she kicked its bunny tail, and all she wanted afterwards was a couple more of these pretzels ...except I'd already destroyed them. Negative husband points were earned that day. Even now, she got another bag, and I promised her I'd sneak only one or two before writing this review to "remind myself of the taste." I omitted the word "handfuls" though. And I promised her she could have the rest...maybe I'll just have to get my own.

Awesome little snack for sure. Absolutely addictive, so consume with care. I'm not 100% sure of the cost, but whatever, it's worth it. These toffee pretzels are good enough to be holiday tin-worthy in my opinion, provided you'd actually want to share them. Not that I'll get them again....no, really I shouldn't....mustn't....Russell, behave....I think I've made my opinion clear. Good enough for at least a 4.5 in my book. Sandy's not as in love with the pretzels as I am, but still gives them a solid 4.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Butter Toffee Pretzels: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sour Cranberry Ale

Just recently, the WG@TJ's team has looked at cranberry wrapped up in meatballs, cranberry goat cheese, and a turkey dinner with cranberry sauce. We're on a cranberry kick. 

So when selecting our beverage of choice to go with our Thanksgiving meal, we opted for this unique brew, which is certainly new to us. Not sure if it's new to Trader Joe's. 

It's still very novel for us to walk into a TJ's store and see a beer and wine section—this case, in Des Moines, Iowa. None of the Trader Joe's near us carried alcohol of any kind while we lived in the greater Philadelphia area. We're anxious to see what we've been missing out on.

This beer has a witbier base and a good bit of cranberry flavor—but make no mistake, this isn't a "girly" drink. It's an ale. That is, it's not sweet at all. It tastes like a traditional witbier, but with the sourness of cranberries. Witbiers tend to be naturally slightly sour anyway, so the cranberry gives it a double dose of mouth-puckering tartness. If you're not hoping for or expecting any sweetness, it works quite well.

Some of you might remember that Sonia and I decided to do a turkey-less Turkey Day this year... 

Unable to procure the turkey-less turkey on our last TJ's run, we simply opted for fish on Turkey-less Day, which was, to our surprise, available at Cracker Barrel on Thanksgiving Day. We did take-out and ate the meal with this crantastic beverage. We still had some traditional sides like mashed potatoes, corn, rolls, and green beans. This ale paired just fine with most of those foods, providing a sourness in between all our salty, buttery bites. 

As you can see in the picture, it poured with a very large head—no doubt enhanced by the fact we drove with the beverage for a hundred miles or so before opening. It's a pretty light red color, and it smells subtly like tart cran-wheat.

Apparently, there are other flavors of these sour ales available at some TJ's, including raspberry, which I'm now eager to try. These beers originate from a well-known brewery called Petrus—masters of the sour brew, from what I've gathered. The bottle runs $7.99, which is a bit steep for any beer, if you ask me. We splurged since it was a special occasion, but wouldn't make this a regular purchase. 5% ABV. If you're really into SOUR beverages, it's worth a try.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cocoa Peppermint Flavored Almond Creamer

Turkey's carved and packed up, leftovers stashed away in Tupperware, the belt is loosened and the shirt's a little bit snugger...means Thanksgiving has come and passed once more.

I love Thanksgiving. I'm lucky to have much to be thankful for. Sandy and I just marked nine years of marriage, with much more "really darn good" if not "pantheon" moments and not too many "blahhh" times. We have our girlies, who we love and whom I'm pretty convinced they're all smarter than me already. We have our extended family and good friends and a house that keeps standing and jobs that keep paying and cars that keep starting. Do we have it all? No, perhaps we're not that close, at least materialistically speaking. But we choose to fill our hearts with love and hands with gratitude.

It's all part of the reason that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday...and why I dislike it being trampled over by Christmas every single year. Kinda grinds my gears. Shops being open for Christmas shopping on Thanksgiving? Ugh. Nothing like trampling over someone for $30 off a blender the same day you're supposed to be thankful for what you have. Thanksgiving calls for peace of the soul, Christmas as celebrated secularly calls for not having enough...or for buying, buying, buying to prove your love for someone.

Sorry for long preamble, I blame the excess tryptophan flowing through my bloodstream right now. And what does this have to do with Trader Joe's Cocoa Peppermint Flavored Almond Creamer?

When I sat down to write this, I really was thinking of this dairyfree creamer in terms of it being a "Christmas" item. "Cocoa peppermint coffee creamer" just sounds inherently Christmassy, like it should be guzzled by lactose-intolerant Santas all across the land. But of course that's a little bit preposterous, it's more of a general winter/colder weather combo, but explains why even we've had it around for over a week, I'm just getting around to the review now. Save the Christmas stuff for after Thanksgiving, right?

It's a decent creamer, though. I poured some in my coffee the other morning and didn't immediately hate it, which is saying something as I usually just do mine black. There's a pleasant balance of mint and chocolate, without either being too overpowering or cloy or sickeningly sweet or anything. Also, there's a little bit of nuttiness too. It's a good flavor, and it didn't color my coffee too tan either. Sandy is a big fan, as she prefers alternate milks and creamers but usually doesn't like almond ones as they can be too thin and watery. "It's almost as creamy as regular cream," she said. I'd take her word for it.

So maybe instead of bah-humbugging too much, I can choose once again to be thankful, even for something small like a flavored coffee creamer that I'm not completely enamored with. It's good enough, vegan, dairyfree, at a good value ($1.99!), and represents a lot of what is right with Trader Joe's as a store. And I got to write about it for a blog I love and an audience I'm pretty fond of, too. Y'all are pretty great. Hope you had a great Thanksgiving and will have a fulfilling run through your holiday season ahead. Gonna need some coffee to keep ya going, it's not the worst idea to spill some of this creamer in at least every once in a while.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cocoa Peppermint Flavored Almond Creamer: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 
  

Trader Joe's Cranberry Chevre

Crantastic. Tarterrific. Chevtacular.

Move over, cranberry sauce. I don't know how well this cheese would pair with turkey and stuffing, but I'd rather see this stuff on my Turkey Day spread, personally.

In my opinion, this is the best fruit and goat cheese pairing possible. It's the double dose of tartness that gets me. Sure, there's a good bit of sweetness from the cranberries—both natural and added, but by and large, this is a mouth-puckering, tart, tangy, sour patch people, spread-on-bread but preferably water crackers kind of snack here. Pairs nicely with a malbec or merlot. I just looked it up right now and wine people are telling me that it goes best with a Cabernet Franc. If they say so. I've never even heard of it. Cabernet Sauvignon? Sure. 

I'm learning to appreciate sweeter chevres like blueberry vanilla more than I did in years past, but every time I try them, there's still this notion that "blueberry vanilla" should be an ice cream flavor, not a goat cheese flavor. 

When I taste this stuff...I feel like this is why God invented goats. 

There's the perfect amount of smooshed, dried cranberry matter all around the outside of the cheese. If it's straight outta the fridge, it's a bit difficult to spread. I think the flavor comes across a little better, too, when the cheese has been left at room temperature for a spell. Most of the time, the cranberries stick to the cheese pretty tenaciously, yielding a well-balanced cheese to berry ratio in each bite. Water crackers provide the best neutral venue for this chevre to shine—not just flavor-wise, but the crispness serves as the perfect foil to the cheese's smooth creaminess.

Sonia liked the cheese, too, adding that the product has a melt-in-your-mouth quality that she wasn't expecting. "It feels like a fall food since it's so cranberry-ish," she said.

Four stars from her. Four and a half from me. 

Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.