Trader Joe's Honey Mustard & Onion Seasoned Pretzel Pieces

This is not meant as any undue attack or unforward critique of one of the all time classics...but there is a serious need of innovation here.

Yes, we are talking about Trader Joe's Honey Mustard & Onion Seasoned Pretzel Pieces. If anyone could have magically pulled this off, I would have counted on TJ's to Wonka-fy it into existence. They didn't. I can't really be disappointed, because it just might be impossible, but still...I had hopes, only to be in vain.

You see, there is a fundamental issue with many snack food items, and honey mustard onion pretzel pieces are probably the best, clearest example. It's such a strong flavor, right? You know it when you taste it. The sweetness and bite of vinegar, the saltiness of the onion, the goodness of whatever other odd spices are sprinkled in...you know what I speak of. If you've ever had a honey mustard onion pretzel, you'll know exactly what this taste like.

That's not precisely the issue, of course.

Instead, it's this question: how many bites of a perfectly balanced flavored snack do you actually get, per bag? It can be frustratingly few.

Alas, there's no exception here.

The first few portions out of the top of the bag are surprisingly bland. Like, they look like they should taste like something, and they kinda do...but not really. All that flavor dust went south for the winter and never came back.

Work towards the equator and there's a couple great bites in there, that taste like a little bit of everything and not too much of anything. Snack time bliss, that's what that is. Yum.

But then there's the bottom third or more. It's where everything settled. A little bit is good, but then for such a strong flavor like honey mustard and onion, it gets way too powerful way too quick. It's hard to have too much, unless you're really hungry.

I was really hopeful for some sort of innovative solution that TJ's would bring forth to the masses here. Maybe it'd be a scientific break though, in that some sort of edible, tasty glue or adhesive would hold on more tightly to the flavor crystals, so all would arrive in factory perfected form. Or that the delivery driver would bring them in a rented out concrete truck, tumbling the packages all the way from distribution center to retail. How about a paint-shaker type contraption in the stockroom? Or, like, maybe like the stockperson would give them an expertly vigorous shake before putting on the shelf, with the cashier giving an instructional DVD to purchasers to ensure even flavor distribution and snack food satisfaction all the way to the point of the consumption, so that if a consumer didn't fully love a balanced, even, delicious morsel of honey mustard onion pretzel that'd be squarely on them as some sort of societal outcast worthy of weeping and gnashing of teeth? It's not like TJ's employees are doing anything else these days.

I kid, of course, but alas, it was not to be. Here we go instead from predictable palatal progression from mediocre to delicious to "a bit much." Sigh.

But apparently I like them, enough to have devoured more or less the whole package myself with a few bites spared for the kiddos. It took a few days to be sure. My lovely bride didn't even try them - she's not opposed, she technically had opportunity, but in her opinion the window of time afforded her was too short -  so I'm flying solo here, which is dangerous. So, uhh...seven spoons? Sure. Need a breakthrough to get to that next level.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Honey Mustard & Onion Seasoned Pretzel Pieces: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Fruit Spread

Nothing says summer—or at least warmer weather—like watermelon: the fruit, the flavor, the culture. It brings to mind memories of more carefree days. It's a reminder that no matter how long the winter, spring and summer are sure to follow. 

2020 has been quite a ride so far, and I'm sure the fun's not over yet. But even in unprecedented and uncertain times like these, there will be unique moments of discovery and joy. Sitting out in the green grass and opening up this jar for the first time was one such moment for me.

I'm not saying this product is so good that it will universally provide transcendent moments of bliss for all who partake of its goodness, but it might do that for some. I'm sure a few of you have tried another version of watermelon jam, jelly, or fruit spread before, be it homemade or some exotic brand I've never heard of. But this was a first for me. Leave it to Trader Joe's.

It's exactly as sweet as I want it to be. It might be a little too sweet for some and not sweet enough for others, but to me, it is juuust sweet enough to be a dessert-like treat, but not so syrupy that I feel a sudden urge to compulsively brush my teeth immediately after consuming.

It truly tastes like watermelon, by virtue of "organic watermelon puree" being the main ingredient. "Cherry juice" is pretty high up on the list, too, and it provides a subtle kick of sweet-tart sass, but you'd never mistake the dominant flavor of this fruit spread. It's absolutely delectably watermelony.

There are no seeds or grit here. Fruit pectin and watermelon puree yield a very smooth consistency. As far as thickness goes, I think it's on par with a strawberry jelly type vibe, but again, with no seeds, fruit bits, or chunks of any kind. A version with little pieces of real watermelon might be interesting, but I'm not complaining about the texture here at all. The smoothness works perfectly.

I've tried it straight from the jar as well as on toast with a little cream cheese. I'm thinking there has to be a way to incorporate this product into a watermelon-flavored smoothie, but I'm not sure what else I'd throw in there. If we had any vanilla wafer cookies on hand, I'd try dunking them straight into this fruit spread. A topping for vanilla ice cream? Plain yogurt? Possibilities abound.

If you like the flavor of watermelon with just a hint of extra tartness and sweetness, I don't see how you'd hate this product. I think it was $2.99 for the jar...? It's unique and very tasty. I give Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Fruit Spread four stars. Sonia will go with four and a half.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Nut Duo

Pearl Jam has long been a favorite band of mine. Classic grunge and rock - it's hard not to like. Have never seen them live unfortunately, but that'll change...sometime...I hope. I've had my chances and have whiffed on them thus far.

That being said...they got some real crappy stuff they put their name on. No, I'm not just talking "Spin the Black Circle" that somehow won a Grammy, just for having the Pearl Jam name on it when they were one of the hottest things around. Have you heard their new song, "Dance of the Clairvoyants"? What in the heck is that?

It's kinda the same deal with Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Nut Duo.

EBTB! So hot right now! It's a seasoning! It's a salmon! It's...probably at least five other TJ's products I can't recall right now. Thanks, beer. And now it's on a pair of nuts.

Could be hot. Could be great. But more likely than not, like those Pearl Jam tunes, it'll skate by on the premise of its name instead of its merits.

It's that aforementioned Everything but the Bagel Seasoning, which is great on everything, including, ironically, bagels,  but on almonds and cashews. That's it. That's all. Must be have been a slow week for the product developers to come up with this.

First, almonds. As far as base nuts, almonds are definitely a step above peanuts, but man, they're still kinda dull. And it's disappointing that by looks our bag is roughly two parts almonds to one part cashews. Need me more quality nuts in this bag!

And for whatever reason, the seasoning blend doesn't translate well onto nuts. It just doesn't. Whatever makes it resonate well on meat and veggies and eggs and, ironically, bagels, just doesn't work here. Yeah, it's there, but not exactly delicious. It's more of a "meh" than an "oooh."

In short, nuts make a great snack. Flavored nut mixes make an even greater snack. But there's so much better out right now - looking at you, Olive & Herb Mix - that makes this mix not too inspiring, with a twinge of feeling like it was kinda mailed in. For $3.99, it's an okay deal but one we are likely to repeat. Feeling charitable, so my lovely bride will hit it with a three each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Nut Duo: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Onion + Chive Cream Cheese Spread

"How about that sour cream spread?" I suggested, fishing for other blog post ideas from my better half.

"Sour cream? It's cream cheese," snapped Sonia. 

I often take it upon myself to correct the wifey when she misspeaks, so it's only fair when she returns the favor. 

And I mean, she's right. It's a tub of cream cheese, like for spreading on bagels. It's not technically sour cream, nor is there any sour cream in it. And it's great for toast, bagels, English muffins, etc. But I've also used it as a chip dip. It's a little too thick for most chips just straight out of the tub, but if you nuke it for a bit, it gets nice and soft. Neither of us have topped a baked potato with it, but I bet it would work for that, too.

If such as thing as sour cream cream cheese ever existed, I'm certain it would taste a lot like this stuff. I don't know if you'd need to keep that redundant "cream" right there in the middle of the product title, but I think it would work either way. "Sour cream and onion" and "sour cream and chives" have long been favorite flavors of mine for chips, dips, biscuits, and loaded baked potato toppers. It makes a great breakfast bread spread as well, in case you were wondering.

There are visible green bits of chives throughout the cream cheese, although the overall texture is nice and smooth. I wouldn't have minded a "chunky style" with even larger and more ubiquitous onion and chive chunks, but then I'm weird like that, and I looove me some onions and chives. There is a scrumptious tangy, oniony flavor, and it's plenty creamy, too.

It's not going to go with most fruit-flavored bagels or jellies. It pairs best with plain or everything style bagels and breads, or maybe even something with a bit of asiago cheese. We can definitively report that it does indeed go well with EBTB seasoning also. 

Sonia's gonna try glazing some fish with it this week, and then covering with panko crumbs. Four stars from her.

Repeat purchase? Perhaps. $1.99 for the tub. Four stars from me too.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah

When all this is finally behind us, and if you're then planning to go to Philadelphia for whatever reason, be sure to make a stop at Reading Terminal Market, especially if you've never been. You won't be disappointed.

It's amazing. There's all the Amish vendors selling baked goods, the best pork sandwich you will ever eat, some rather interesting food oddities, and food from across the world, all in a tight, crammed little space. As a bonus, it's only a short and safe walk away from Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell, which are naturally pretty darn historic and a bit awe-inspiring as well.

It's also pretty much the only place I knew where to buy halvah.

What's halvah? I had no idea either until Sandy picked some up there on our last trip around Christmas time. It's delicious, is what it is.

And now, of course, perhaps Columbusing halvah to the masses, is good ol' TJ's with Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah. Find it stashed right next to the cash registers for an interesting litle pick up.

So, halvah...okay. Imagine like almond or sunflower seed butter, all dried up into a kinda crispy mass. Now, instead of those, it's tahini, or sesame seed butter. Yup, the same kinda stuff that gets put into hummus, except I guess that might be more oil? Anyways, yeah.

Halvah in general, and TJ's in particular, has an interesting texture. It's firm yet soft, dry yet not arid, chalky yet not crumbly. You can tear yourself a chunk at ease, yet it falls apart nearly instantly when bitten. It's kinda like magic, and that's how a good halvah tastes.

The TJ's type, in comparison, does seem a bit more firm than the couple bites we have left of the "real deal" from Philly. There's more similarity than not, so I'd say it veers towards authentic in terms of texture, but it's not all the way there. Sandy says it more closely tastes like a halvah candy bar which she's had somewhere - seriously, where that girl gets her treats sometimes, I just don't know.

Naturally, there's a zillion varieties. What Sandy got at Reading Terminal was pistachio halvah - tastes like heaven. In comparison, a cocoa vanilla swirl flavor from TJ's is bit not too exotic-y. But I get it. Playing safe with a familiar flavor might be more enticing for the otherwise ignorant shopper (which I fit the mold of more times than not). It's pretty basic chocolate and vanilla too, even a little plain to be honest. I would have loved another flavor, like more pistachio or honey or other traditional flavors.

It's also kinda odd to me the way the TJ's halvah is packaged. There's ten little individually fun size wrapped pieces inside the bag. Seems kinda wasteful, unless you want to be the neighborhood oddball to hoard these to distribute to all the lil Tiger Kings and Carol Baskinses that'll be trick-or-treating this fall (God willing).

Anyways, the halvah's worth the try for the $3 or so. Like other TJ's selections, it just might help you discover something new to enjoy. It's good enough and approximates the real deal close enough, and dangit, I'm a man of many things, and a halvah snob isn't one of them. I'm just hoping for some more flavor variety. Our kiddos didn't seem to enjoy it much so it may be more of a grown up treat, for what it's worth. Between the two of us purported grown ups we'll hit with a seven.

Trader Joe's Organic Marbled Halvah: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Giotto's Glaze and Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts

Here's a fun, exciting review to leave you with over the weekend: Brussels sprouts. Hooray. Joy. Elation.

Honestly, I don't think I ever had Brussels sprouts as a kid. My parents loved to make me eat weird stuff that I didn't like, so I'm not sure how I avoided these salubrious spheroids of sustenance. I truly don't think I ever ate a Brussels sprout until just a few years ago. In that first instance, I had them with a balsamic glaze that absolutely blew me away. Also, they were cooked to perfection—slightly charred and crispy on the outside; warm, dense, and planty on the inside.

Sonia grew up with a French family as neighbors. When she'd visit their daughter Natalie to play, her mother would often provide snacks or meals, occasionally in the form of steamed, salted Brussels sprouts. While Natalie would happily pop the sprouts into her mouth like candy, Sonia, secretly disgusted by the greens, would choke down one or two and then slip away from the table under the guise of not being hungry.

Her view on sprouts has changed dramatically in adulthood. She now loves them when prepared correctly and served with the right condiments.

Since these True Belgian Brussels Sprouts came frozen, we might not have left them in the oven quite long enough. They weren't raw or cold on the inside, but they might have benefited from another 10 minutes or so in the heat. I like my veggies well-done.

Still, the glaze made them pretty tasty, at least on the outside. Trader Giotto's Glaze is moderately sweet and has a fermented essence from the "grape must." It's not unlike a port wine, but a bit thicker in texture. It's less vinegary than a typical balsamic dressing, but there's still a hint of vinegar underneath the grapey goodness.

We found that the glaze wanted to slide off the sprouts and wind up on the baking tray, so we reapplied it a couple times during the heating process. The finished product was definitely more flavorful that plain Brussels spouts, but we both wished we had found a way to get more glaze to stick. We applied some post-baking, and it helped a little, but the portion that had baked on to the sprouts was more flavorful and beneficial to the vegetable within. All in all, the glaze paired well with the earthy, nutty bitterness of the sprouts. We'll probably try it with oil and bruschetta in the future, and maybe some tilapia, too.

We both liked the glaze and think the price is fair at $2.99 for the bottle. Sonia may have been even more enamored with it than me, as I feel like any old balsamic dressing would serve as a flavorful condiment in instances such as this. At 99 cents, the large bag of Brussels sprouts is an even better bargain. That's a lot of nutrition for less than a buck. Your personal score for a bag of sprouts will largely depend upon your feelings about Brussels sprouts in the first place. I'm well aware many people are disgusted by them, no matter their age. In our case, Sonia will give it four stars, and I'll give it three. Sonia will throw out the same score for the glaze, and I'll go half a star higher.

Trader Giotto's Glaze: Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hand Twisted Cinnamon Sugar Bread

Remember Karen, one of our favorite Trader Joe's employee at our family's usual McCandless Crossing location located just a touch north of Pittsburgh, PA?

Obviously, there's little that's consistently the same these days. It's just an odd, confusing world out there right now. There's a few things that help me through, and one of them is finding the little, small things that were the same as before to give me something to hold on to.

Grocery shopping certainly isn't the same these days...but Karen is. Really, pretty much the entire crew there is. But Karen, with the way she continually greets either my lovely bride or I and asks how we're all doing, by name, and points out new products and "must trys" no matter how busy she is, will always stand out.

So when she tells me we have to try out the new Trader Joe's Hand Twisted Cinnamon Sugar Bread while she tosses it in the cart for me, I'll listen. Yes ma'am.

Judging by the complete lack of yeast and flour pretty much anywhere these days, most of you must be enjoying some homemade bread on the regular. We've had some on occasion. And I'll hold that homemade is almost always better than store bought if given the option.

That being said, this cinnamon bread is downright delish. It's an absolute treat.

The outside of the loaf is coated over with a sticky cinnamon sugar glaze like what you'd find inside a cinnamon bun. Unlike most of my home paint jobs, there's not a spot missed anywhere. 100% coverage. Off to a terrific start.

Inside as you can see there's a swirl of that same glaze permeating the entire bread. It's tucked in nice and sweetly under some heavy bready blankets - you can tell just by looking it's that thick, dense, crumbly type that exudes comfort with every bite. It does well to balance all of the sugar and spice and everything nice to keep it more on the side of viable bread than dessert, but man, that line gets straddled. Tastes awesome.

My one complaint: I wish it came presliced. Now, I recognize the arguments and advantages of slicing your own: portion control. Some like it thick, some like it thin, some like to Goldilocks it right in the middle. I get that. But the hand-twisted nature of this bread dictates that unless done with expert care it's pretty tough to make a precise slice that's 100% intact. I'm not a bread-slicing machine. We ended up enjoying too much of the bread more as narrow slice/chunk hybrids that would wouldn't preclude the load from being turned into scrumptious French toast, but kinda makes something like a sandwich hard.

Other than that, as always before, karen was right. This is some pretty fantastic bread. As someone who's taken up cooking and food prep these days as a stay-at-home hobby of sorts, I'd still opt for a homemade version of the cinnasugar loaf from TJ's, but this could fool me, almost. The perfect glaze job on the outside gives it away. Yummy stuff, my kids loved it and loved making a mess with it even more. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Hand Twisted Cinnamon Sugar Loaf: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Just the Clusters Chocolate Almond Granola Cereal

I used to get on really big cereal kicks where I'd eat the stuff every morning for breakfast. I mean, sometimes for years on end, I was just into cereal. Then for a while I'd move on to something else like donuts, or oatmeal, or yogurt. I've even been that guy that would eat Doritos and Mountain Dew at seven o'clock in the morning on occasion. And yes, if it was the weekend, or if I called in sick to work, I'd spend the morning playing video games. There's not much else you can legitimately do if you choose Mountain Dew and Doritos for breakfast. 

I can't handle the HFCS anymore, so I haven't done that in a while. But also, oddly, I haven't been on any major cereal kicks lately. I feel like ever since I've been married to Sonia, for some reason, every time I've felt like cereal, we either have none on hand, or we don't have any milk in the fridge. Once a month or so, all the stars will align and I'll actually feel like eating cereal and we'll have all the necessary elements to prepare a bowl. Such an alignment occurred just yesterday.

Opening the bag of Trader Joe's Chocolate Almond Granola Cereal, there's a pleasant whiff of chocolatey goodness. It's reminiscent of Cocoa Pebbles, but not quite as ricey or sweet, and perhaps a tad richer. 

The granola chunks are the perfect size for a cereal—not too big, not too small. There's a fair amount of almond slivers, too, although I don't think a significant boost in that department would have been outrageous. Even doubling the presence of the almonds couldn't have hurt in my humble opinion. Fortunately, the granola is pretty decent on its own.

Like the smell, the flavor is chocolatey and sweet. It's not over the top sugary, though. The chocolate is satisfying and errs on the side of rich cocoa rather than chocolate candy. It's just strong enough to taste like a flavorful treat without completely overshadowing the nuttiness of the almonds. The granola and nuts are both crunchy, even after a prolonged period of submersion. 

The granola dyes the milk nice and brown by the end of the bowl and yields wonderfully chuggable chocolate milk. In a way, I think I enjoy the residual liquid in the bowl more than the cereal itself, although I'm thinking I'll reach for this box again tomorrow. If by some chance we wind up having this stuff on hand regularly, as well as some cold milk, I just might wind back up on a lengthy cereal kick.

$3.49 for the box. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings

Comfort.

What brings you comfort?

There's a lot of ways to answer this, of course, and there's even a few ways I can answer this right at the time of writing. I'm sipping on a cold beer, which almost always seems right, and listening to a Facebook Live concert from the lead singer of my favorite local band, called Good Brother Earl. I think I first saw them back in about 2003 or 2004 and, no lie, a few hundred times. Helps they used to play at the Pittsburgh Rock Bottom on Wednesday nights, no cover, with $2 beers and half price appetizers. Since corporate pulled the plug on their shows about 7 years ago, after at least a five year run, I haven't been back.

But anyways, through the many stages and changes in my life over the past 15-plus years, their music has been a constant. Jeff, the singer, has been a good friend as well. And in these times, I'm thankful that he and his band's music is continuing to be that constant that they have been.

Long, not entirely connected lead up to a review about the new Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings, eh? Sorry, couldn't think of much better. It's that beer I'm telling you.

But food brings comfort, right? And what's more comfort-in-edible form than a warm soup dumpling? I can't think of much.  So there ya go.

Find 'em in the freezer section, bring 'em home, steam 'em up, chow 'em down. These dumplings are pretty darn good. There's the soft, typical noodle shell holding the whole thing together. Inside, of course, is a light broth and the pork/ginger/whatever else filling. The meat itself is mild, soft and a bit crumbly, like a meatball bent on falling apart. That's not a bad thing. There's not more than a mildly aggressive hit of ginger - there's nothing near the searing bite ginger is capable of. It's more a soft warmth feel, and is complemented nicely by a little soy and garlic.

It'd be great if it ended there. But nah.

Instead, right at the end, this sweetness kicks in. At first I thought maybe it was some soy sauce trickery, but no. It's too cloying. It's got to be added sugar. Why would you add sugar to this? Makes no sense to me, not with flavor profile. We're going for savory here. Why sugar? Can't be sugar. Nah. Let's just go check the ingredients, I'm making this up...

Nope. Added sugar. As confirmed by the ingredient list and nutrition label. WHY???

Fortunately all the good flavor business in the front makes up pretty well for the lame wannabe sweet party in the back, but still, it's a knock. Would be much better without IMHO.

Otherwise, great dumplings, bordering on being down right umamilicious. That's not a word but it shoukd be. Umami + delicious = umamilicious. Say it aloud. It's fun. There's absolutely a comfort element at work, and in these times that's not a bad thing at all. My lovely bride, our squad of shorties and I all enjoyed them pretty well, and will likely pick up again soon, even with my faint quibbles.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons