Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Seasoned Smoked Salmon

Used to be my lovely bride wouldn't dream of touching something such as Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Seasoned Smoked Salmon. No way, no how. I mean, when we first started dating she had all these picky rules and barely ate any meat aside from maybe chicken, and once tried to convince us to go vegetarian (which I for some reason bought into to her face while sneaking beef jerky at work).

Not any more, thank God. Good smoked meats like my dad's pastrami or my patented smashburger have convinced her that meat is perfectly acceptable. Still...salmon. She likes fish just fine, but fish that stays pink was always weird for her. Wouldn't touch it.

Notice all that past tense? Not only did Sandy alert me to the existence of this new TJ's smoked salmon, she dragged me to the store to buy it, and spotted it when I couldn't, and completely insisted we have it for dinner, forgoing bacon out of all things. Dang, girl.

And it's well worth it. This salmon is pretty dang good. Is it the seasoning? As previously reviewed, the Everything but the Bagel seasoning is absolutely delish. It's everything from an everything bagel, except the bagel. Duh. And of course it goes well on almost everything, including bagels, but in this case also on salmon, which we placed, namely, on a bagel, nova lox style.

It helps that the salmon itself is really mild, non fishy Atlantic salmon. As good as Pacific? Nah...but good. The fish gives an excellent base for the ample amounts of garlic an onion and everything else to really kinda spread out and express itself. It's really almost creamy too, and soft, as opposed to fleshy or even meaty. It's closer to, say, prosciutto than a sliced fish filet.

It's $5.49 for the smallish two serving package, which is about the going rate for these type of deals. So savor it a little bit, eh? We sure did, even though our nearly seven year old scowled through almost every small bite we gave her. That poor child, she doesn't know any better....yet. Her mama sure learned though. Go get it and don't regret it. Thumbs up all around.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Seasoned Smoked Salmon: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Spiced Chai Black Tea Concentrate

As long as I've known her, one of Sonia's go-to beverages has been Oregon Chai. It's kind of appropriate to mention it now, since we'll be traveling through Oregon in just a few days. But anyway, she's been on a bit of a chai kick lately, even before spotting this new chai concentrate at TJ's. 

Although I rarely seek it out above other beverages, I generally enjoy chai and I've tried plenty of different varieties and brands throughout the years. Just from Trader Joe's alone, we've seen pretty decent chai tea bags and powdered chai mix, among others. So what sets this product apart from the pack?

Well, it's concentrated, obviously. The bottle asks for two parts milk or non-dairy beverage to every one part chai. We used almond milk. That 2:1 ratio seemed right on the money to me. I usually have to get rebellious when it comes to preparation instructions, but not here.

Also, this stuff is actually spicy. There's a warmth you can feel as you drink the beverage, and it lingers in the mouth for a bit after you're done. Neither of us found it unpleasant, but I could see some folks seeking out something a little less feisty. You could always just dilute the mixture a tad more if you're in that camp.

The black tea flavor, too, is strong. Sonia thinks the biggest differences between this product and Oregon Chai is the bolder black tea flavor and stronger spiciness in this Trader Joe's offering. The Oregon version is a little lighter on both counts.

Despite its intensity, the wife and I both found it highly drinkable and don't have any major complaints. When asked if she preferred this over her beloved Oregon Chai, she said neither one is head and shoulders above the other, but her preference would depend on her mood on a given day. She said this one reminded her of a certain Tazo chai she used to drink many years ago, but hasn't had in a while.

$2.49 for a pint of concentrated chai. Along with TJ's concentrated cold brew coffees, this product is a winner in our books. Four stars a piece. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Juice

Well, last week's summertime-ish cold drink experiment was a disaster, wasn't it? I mean, caramel spice...for summer? That's not exactly classic and a sure set up for, if not added scrutiny, then failure.

So let's go tried-and-true this week with Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Juice.

Watermelon. The classic shirts off, hose 'em down, seed-spittin' taste of summer from youth. Nothing's better than a cold wedge of watermelon on a hot day. Can't argue that away from me.

And now, here it is...in a can!

Well...sort of.

It's undoubtedly watermelon flavored. Part of me wouldn't be surprised if the juice were the delicious byproduct of previous TJ's watermelon experiments. Wish I had some of that "jerky" still around to see if it'd puff all back to life like one of those sponge dinosaurs...oh well. life is tough.

Still, I'm not the hugest of fans. I guess it's because it's simply just so watermelon and not much else. The packaging states there's "plenty of bubbles" or something to that effect, so there was some hope there'd be some carbonation to help cut through all the sweetness. There's not, as it's more a back-end, scratch your throat on the way down kinda deal. All the watermelon taste is upfront and has a flat feel.

I guess one could pour over some ice, put a spring of rosemary, maybe even splash in some adult spirit, and that'd make a coolish drink, and that'd be good. But for me, I judge the refreshing power of a summer drink based on, "would I reach for this after mowing the lawn?" You know, when all hot and sweaty. And the answer is not really. Given the choice between this beverage or a slive of actual watermelon, I'd go for the real deal.

Of course, if on a picnic or had some other need for a portable hit of watermelon, the TJ's sparklin' stuff makes a much more convenient option, so I won't rule it out completely. Maybe it's just not totally for me.

That would make Sandy pretty happy. She loooooves this. One sip, and she was oohing and smiling as if Lin Manuel Miranda just came in the room. More for her, if she wants to pick this up I'd have no complaints. I love the receipt so need a price check, but I'm thinking it's in the general $3 range, please correct me if needed. I'll be nice and give it a 3 (maybe more for not being funky....looking at you, last week!) whereas Sandy will go a bit higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sparkling Watermelon Juice: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Oat & Greek Yogurt Sandwich Cookies

Blah. More cookies. I think three out of my past five reviews have been of cookies. I mean, all in all, they haven't been bad cookies. In general, Trader Joe's does cookies better than others. But I'm all cookied out right now. 

So why review these cookies today? There are far more fascinating new items on the shelves of Trader Joe's currently.

Allow me to explain...

As I mentioned last week, I have a nasty spring cold that I contracted from my lovely wife—and I can't taste anything at the moment. These cookies were the last thing I remember eating before getting the cold. Also, they're review-worthy, if only for the Greek yogurt gimmick they've got going on.

They vaguely resemble Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies, but lighter in color, a little fatter, with a slightly smaller diameter. They were soft when I first opened the box—maybe not quite as soft or as oily as a classic oatmeal creme pie, but pliable enough that one would call them "chewy" before he'd call them crispy, crunchy, or even crumbly. Those first couple cookies were excellent. It was warm out at the time, so the filling, too, was super soft and creamy—gooey almost.

Now this was back a week ago. Daytime highs were hitting near 90 degrees in southern Idaho, the sun was out, and even with air conditioning on, a class C RV can get pretty toasty in no time flat. So I made the mistake of putting the cookies in the refrigerator. I thought, hey, we don't want the Greek yogurt to get all rancid in the heat, right? I asked Sonia if that made sense to her, and she informed me that the cookies were most definitely NOT refrigerated in TJ's. I still felt like the heat wouldn't do them any favors.

But since that time, they haven't tasted or felt nearly as fresh. The filling is much better when it's kinda viscous. When it's firm—like straight outta the fridge—it's meh. The cookie part, too, just tastes better at room temperature, though the difference isn't as noticeable. Don't get me wrong, they're still edible. 

Fresh or not, the flavor is sweet, tart, and tangy. There's almost a hint of lemony essence by virtue of the yogurt's tartness, but it doesn't look like there are any lemon ingredients. The cookie parts are moderately sweet, oaty, and satisfying enough. There are notes of honey and vanilla in the mixture, and they work pretty well.

Sonia's taste came back some time between the last review and this one. She likes these cookies at least as much as I do and thinks I'm exaggerating the difference between when the box was first opened and after it emerged from the fridge. Had it been up to her, they would have stayed in the pantry, but she thinks they're tasty either way. 

Even being thoroughly saturated with cookies lately, we still can't hate on these unique Greek imports. Three and a half stars from each of us.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cold Brew Caramel Spice Coconut Cream Latte Coffee Beverage

With Memorial Day right around the corner, it's officially turning into that time of year: cold brew season!

Hot coffee when it's hot weather is gross. Can't convince me otherwise. I want to be less hot, not more. Ingesting copious amounts of hot liquid when it's hot is inane. But you still need coffee. Hence the brilliance of cold brew.

So here's how we get an item like Trader Joe's Cold Brew Caramel Spice Coconut Cream Latte Coffee Beverage. Holy cow, what name. Except there's no cows involved here, because, well, coconuts. Dairy free, vegan, cold, caffeinated coffee, with a potentially interesting flavor combo...gotta try.

Except: don't. Believe me. This stuff is grrroooosssssssss. 

I was thinking it's just me. I'm Mr. Drink Black Coffee 99% of the Time Guy. But I can appreciate stuff with cream and sugar and whatnot if it's done well. This isn't.

What really throws the whole brew off the rails, I think, is the caramel spice. It tastes fake and cloying sweet and kinda tinny, and it doesn't jive one bit with the coconut or the coffee. And the "spice"? God knows what it isn't, I really don't. But...it just doesn't taste good. It doesn't taste right. I tried letting it linger around a little longer, but goodness no. As soon as I tasted it I wanted it gone.

That's kinda too bad. I think something like a coconut cream cold brew has a lot of potential if done right. Coconut cream is delicious and debatably healthyish, depending on your dietary approach. There's potential here, but it gets thrown all away.

As I said, I was thinking it was just me. Nope. Sandy hates this stuff, too. Hates it. Which is really difficult for her to do with coffee...but she echoed almost everything I just said. "If it were just caramel, or just the spice, it could work with everything else, maybe," she said. "But together...blecch."

And get this: its not even sold cold. I'm not even sure where in the store it is. Sandy found it, not me. It's not in the refrigerated section. So it's not an impulse, drink right away kinda deal: you have to chill it and plan when to drink it, set your whole caffeination schedule around it. That makes it even more disappointing in my opinion.

We both detest this caramel spice abomination. It's so hard to say that about coffee...but here we are. Gross. Don't buy it. Just don't. Don't encourage this kinda stuff. Sandy mustered a one for it having caffeine, and I'll match that score and reasoning with the added hit that at least it's not pumpkin spice. That'd be a awful fall coffee whether served hot or cold. Blahhhh brew.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cold Brew Caramel Spice Coconut Cream Latte Coffee Beverage: 2 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 5 Layer Dip

"Dip."

It seems too simple, too trifling a word to describe the layers of lusciousness held within. 

It's a product that can turn ordinary tortilla chips into a filling, well-balanced meal. In the flatly-delivered words of David Puddy from Seinfeld: "Hey how come people don't have dip for dinner? Why's it always a snack? Why can't it be a meal, you know?" 

We've got vegetables, dairy ingredients, and multiple high-protein elements...and they're all ridiculously delicious. "Dip" is a many-splendored thing, isn't it? And in my opinion, it deserves a moniker worthy of its versatility...

But not all dips are created equal.

That gross yellow cheese that comes with movie nachos—a snack that costs seven or eight dollars but is clearly worth less than one—that stuff's "dip." 

I mean, adding the words "five-layer" to the product title helps a little. But it's still not a grandiose enough term to capture the wonder of this choice concoction. 

There are five basic elements to the condiment, but a good multi-layer dip is more than the sum of its parts, right?

Of course. Such is the case here. Any of the five layers would be a fine chip-topper in and of itself, but the resulting conglomeration yields at least five times the deliciousness of any one single element.

The game-changer here is the hummus layer. I don't know that I've had a multi-layer dip with hummus before. And it's not just chick pea hummus...there's black beans up in the mix. Either ingredient would have made this dip a winner. But both? Yes, please. The multi-layer dips I've had in the past all had a refried bean layer instead. And I like refried beans just fine, but I feel like hummus just works better.

Guac, pico, sour cream, and four kinds of cheeses? Are you kidding me? This is nearly the perfect mixture of every wonderful thing you'd want to put on a tortilla chip all in one tub—all fresh, flavorful, and in perfect ratios to one another.

Sonia only tried a bite or two of this dip because she's got some odd spring cold she's fighting. She was all stuffed up and couldn't taste anything. Since I was kind enough to share the dip, she was kind enough to share her cold, and I got sick, too—but not before devouring this entire tub myself. I guess I'll just have to score it on my own. I give it four and a half stars out of five. The only thing that would improve this stuff is a little heat. A single picante layer would make this the perfect food. I experimented with random hot sauces we had around: Texas Pete, Cholula, and packets from each of Taco Time, Del Taco, and Taco Bell. They all yielded tasty mixtures. 

Feel free to disagree with me...I mean, if you're comfortable with being dead wrong. A spicy version would be a shoo-in for the Pantheon. Four and a half stars (times two) for Trader Joe's Cinco Strata Magical Mosaic. 

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix

Really, the faces said it all.

I was first. I imagine I squinted my eyes, pursed my lips and had a somewhat perplexed look. That it is to say, even more than usual. Others then followed suit on the quixotic quest set forth. A few wrinkled noses. A few shaking heads, with a little air of uncertainty. Some of the kids took a bite then promptly looked for the nearest trashcan. There was an absolutely palpable mix of uncertainty and mild acceptance at best.

Such as it is with Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix.

I baked a cake up precisely according to package instructions last week for a little potluck dinner we attended last week. It was extremely simple - mix with a little water, half a stick of butter, and a couple eggs. Bake for something like 45 minutes. So easy I could do it with the "help' of a couple four year olds.

But yeah...I won't say it went over well at our get-together. It's definitely a supremely odd cake. Really, it's the texture - you hear the word "cake" and think soft and crumbly and whatnot. It's so not the case here. If you're familiar with mochi at all, you know how it is: Chewy. Rubbery. Kinda dense. Moist. And in a thickish cake form, the word "slab" comes to mind instead of "slice."

I guess all that really ought to be expected...but expectation and experience can be two different things. Just weird, odd texture. Took some getting used to for sure.

Really, that's the novelty selling point for the mochi cake mix. Otherwise, it's pretty nondescript for its flavor. Some might even say basic. It's slightly sweet, and with the amount of added eggs and butter it's, well, kinda eggy and kinda buttery. Go figure. Kinda boring. I suppose that's why I've read on other forums to experiment some with the mix, like...adding berries. Making with pineapple juice instead of water. Cinnamon. Chocolate. And so on. It's probably a good base for all those, and probably many more ideas...if you got 'em, share 'em.

It's $3.99 for the mix, which from what I understand isn't an awful price for something like this. Gluten-free, of course. I'm on the fence about buying it again, but not Sandy. She loves oddball stuff like this and insists we will and will experiment and report back. Fine, yes dear. My pic of the nutritional facts and ingredients were potato quality so check here for that info. May as well just face it now and give the mochi cake a mixed seven.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mochi Cake Mix: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Benne Wafer Cookies

I had to look up "lowcountry." I was thinking it was a nickname for the Netherlands or Belgium or some other sea-level European nation. Turns out it's actually South Carolina...or several counties in South Carolina, at least—mostly the area around Charleston. 

I lived in North Carolina for a year, and during my time there, I only made it into South Carolina once—to the Myrtle Beach area. But fortunately, Sonia and I got to visit Charleston briefly a couple years back on our trip through the South. I don't remember hearing the terms "lowcountry" or "benne wafers," but I do remember the city having a certain colonial seaport charm as well as a unique look and feel. We didn't get to spend a ton of time there. On our way back north, we opted for a path that took us through Columbia, another fascinating, and perhaps less touristy, locale. Like the Georgia Pecan Cookies, these too are produced in Savannah, GA. Close enough to the lowcountry, I suppose. 

Apparently that whole southern coastal region has been snacking on benne wafers for centuries. They're basically the offspring of salty sesame crackers and sweet sugar cookies—a fact I was oblivious to up until the moment I popped one in my mouth. No, I didn't read the bag first. I like to dive in blind with no expectations if I can.

The sesame flavor is significant, detectable immediately when you bite into the cookie. I almost wrote "I'm surprised how much I like these" just now, but what I really mean is I'm surprised how much I don't dislike these. If I had read the bag before the purchase, I probably wouldn't have even bought them. I don't really think of sesame seeds as dessert-ish. I'm fine with a few of them on crackers or rolls. They work well on salty foods, generally. But in a cookie?

Yes, I must admit that somehow sesame seeds work just fine in these particular cookies. It's another unexpected sweet+salty combo that I probably wouldn't seek out unless I had a particular craving, but Sonia likes them significantly more than the pecan cookies. Between the two of us, we probably won't have much trouble finishing this bag.

Texture-wise, they're very similar to the pecan cookies. They're brittle, crispy, crumbly, and it might just be a psychological thing, but I feel like they're a little crackery, too—as in, you know, cracker-like. 

Score-wise, we're looking at three and a half from me and four from the wife.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.