Ah, here we have an "Old World Recipe." No doubt these tasty morsels were concocted by The Great Old Ones in their storied city R'lyeh. Perhaps Cthulhu himself combined the delicious flavor of butter cookies with the sweet and tangy zip of juicy Meyer lemons and offered the resulting thins to his demonic brethren as a tide-me-over snack in between devouring hapless human victims.
Or, perhaps, Trader Joe is referring to the European Renaissance rather than characters from a loathsome Lovecraftian lineup. Now that I've scoured the box for clues, it appears that indeed it's the latter assumption that's correct and you can safely disregard all that nonsense in the opening paragraph. Something something something about 19th century sailors and women using lemons for lipstick and kings gifting one another lemons because they were so hard to come by back then. Who knew?
I could see kings gifting each other Trader Joe's Meyer Lemon Cookie Thins even nowadays because they're quite delicious. They're like those really thin and crispy snickerdoodles, texture-wise. They're buttery like them, too. But instead of cinnamon and spice, there's a pleasant wave of lemon flavor.
Lemon always feels like a summer flavor to me, and these cookies are no different. Despite the butteriness, they don't feel overly filling, dense, or oily. They're light and crispy yet also somehow very flavorful.
In general, crispy cookies aren't my thing, but this selection gets a thumbs up from me. I'd almost want to call them "dessert crackers" instead of "cookies," you know, if dessert crackers were a thing.
I've tried these dessert crackers plain, with cream cheese, and with vanilla ice cream. They're awesome in every instance. I'd try my dessert crackers with lemon ice cream or lemon sherbet if I had some.
Sonia likes them a lot, too. $4.49 for the 9 serving box is a little pricey IMO, but as usual, you get what you pay for. These things are high quality. Plus there are two separate sleeves of cookies so one half of the package can stay wrapped up while you eat the other half. Double fours on Trader Joe's Old World Recipe Meyer Lemon Cookie Thins.
I generally prefer tequila reposado or "gold" to the blanco or "silver" version. I guess the main difference is reposado is aged in a barrel and blanco is not, so reposado tends to be a little smoother and blanco just a little more agave-forward.
Not sure why I grabbed Trader Joe's Tequila Blanco on our last TJ's haul. I guess I'd remembered that we reviewed one type of Trader Joe's Tequila Reposado a long time ago on this blog. I couldn't tell you if that one's still available or discontinued, or even if TJ's offers any other types of tequila currently, but I figured why not add a blanco to our long list of product reviews?
Well...I can think of one reason: it's not that good. I mean, I've had other tequila blancos and this one is the harshest one I can recall. It's probably one of the worst tequilas I've ever had. It's like a vague planty notion swimming in a sea of rubbing alcohol. There was also an unpleasant aftertaste both Sonia and I noted that's hard to describe.
It's passable if you dilute it with mixers, juices, and ice, but neither of us would purchase this version again. It's nothing like that Distinqt tequila or the more recently reviewed Espada Pequeña Mezcal. $19.99 for 750 mL. 40% ABV. Product of Jalisco, Mexico. Two and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me for Trader Joe's Tequila Blanco.
To me, the term "rice cake" has always meant a dry, crispy disk of whole grain rice, usually Quaker brand, mostly plain but occasionally dusted with a flavoring of some sort. Growing up with a wheat allergy, rice cakes were a great alternative to wheat-based crackers and even bread. I'd eat mine with peanut butter and jelly or sometimes just plain and I honestly grew to love them. Despite not having a significant wheat allergy any longer, I'll seek out Quaker rice cakes once in a while just for nostalgia's sake or to curb my once-in-a-while craving.
These rice cakes are obviously a little different from those big crunchy pucks I grew up with. Apparently, something similar to Trader Joe's Sliced Korean Rice Cakes is widely available at Asian grocers like H Mart, but this will be the first time either Sonia or I have tried this specific type of mochi-esque side dish.
The little slices of rices are oval-shaped, but otherwise about the size of a quarter. I don't know if you've ever placed a coin on the railroad tracks and let a train run over it or used one of those novelty crank-operated machines that stamps your penny with the logo from some specific attraction, but they're in that ballpark, size and shape-wise.
I followed the instructions to boil them, and they came out quite chewy. They were pillowy and somewhat soft, but honestly, I was hoping for something a little closer to regular rice or pasta in terms of texture. They're surprisingly dense, and I won't say they're leathery per se, but they don't exactly melt in the mouth quite like I was hoping they would.
Still, they're unique and convenient. There's no sauce in the bag, so you can just add them to pretty much any Asian dish. In our case, we had them with leftover sesame chicken, egg rolls, and stir fry topped with sriracha sauce. You can't really see any veggies in the picture we took, but I promise there's some cabbage in that bowl somewhere.
The cakes, not surprisingly, taste like rice, and they add an interesting texture, particularly if you cut them in half for easier chewing before taking a bite. We both like 'em enough. Repeat purchase? Maybe.
$3.29 for the 5 serving bag found in the frozen section. Vegan. Gluten free. Three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me on Trader Joe's Sliced Korean Rice Cakes.
At last, the long-awaited sequel to our review of Trader Joe's Chai Tea Mints is here! For a recap: the last tea-flavored mint got a thumbs up from Sonia and a thumbs down from Nathan. When we last left our heroes, Nathan was coughing from the chalky aftertaste and Sonia was adding the tiny tin to her purse, promising she'd finish the mints without Nathan's help. The high after-dinner refreshment drama continues today...with Trader Joe's Green Tea Infused Mints!
These are a little better than the chai ones in my humble opinion. I honestly love chai flavored things, and green tea stuff is hit or miss with me, so I'm actually kinda surprised. Chai has an almost desserty vibe to me. It should be sweet and spicy and somewhat indulgent. Those mints weren't.
Green tea, on the other hand, I think of as medicinal. It can be refreshing, which I'd say these mints are. It can be sweet, which these mints are as well. But I don't really think of green tea as a flavor extravaganza, generally. What I guess I'm trying to say is I didn't have my expectations up as high for these green tea mints, and I wasn't nearly as disappointed.
Also I think green tea breath is better than chai breath. I don't think I can justify or back that opinion up with any sound logic or rationale...so we'll just leave it at that. Plus these are less chalky by my estimation. Sonia likes them about the same as the chai ones.
$1.99 at the checkout area. About 54 mints per tin. That's three less than the chai version. I should take them out and count them manually, but...nah. Feel free to count them and comment below if you're feeling ambitious. Four stars from Sonia, three and a half stars from me for Trader Joe's Green Tea Infused Mints.
Pretty much without fail, if Trader Joe's puts the word "protein" in the title of a product, it's a safe bet I won't like it at all. I mean I have nothing against proteins. I love fish, eggs, dairy, nuts, and beans as much as the next guy. But when a product has "whey protein concentrate" or "pea protein powder" or anything like that as a top ingredient, it's virtually a guarantee that the protein powder taste will overpower the entire product.
So why try Trader Joe's Buttermilk Protein Pancake Mix at all? Well, firstly because the beautiful wifey wanted to check it out. But also because it's pancakes. They can't possibly screw up pancakes with some protein gimmick, can they?
In short, yes. Yes they can. These are pancakes that taste very much like they were made with whey protein concentrate. No amount of butter and/or syrup can completely save them and make them taste like normal, delicious pancakes. They taste like health food, pure and simple. They taste like protein powder.
Some people, no doubt, can look past it. I, for one, cannot. Sonia generally enjoys products with or without protein powder, and even she can't get past the protein powderiness of these pancakes.
They're soft and fluffy enough, I guess. There's not a ton of chalkiness like some protein products. So the texture's not a complete failure.
We'll eventually finish the box, but we wouldn't buy it again. $3.99 for the 11 serving package. Two stars from me for Trader Joe's Buttermilk Protein Pancake Mix. Two stars from the beautiful wifey.
I hadn't had a decent Asian meal in quite a while, so I thought, what the heck? Let's try some Trader Joe's Pho to see what they've done with the classic Vietnamese noodle soup.
It heats in the microwave from frozen in just six minutes, and unless you wanna get fancy, you can just eat it straight from the plastic bowl for a quick lunch. As the product emerged from the microwave, I detected an unusual potpourri-esque smell. Was that cinnamon and nutmeg in there? I haven't had real pho in a hot minute, but I certainly don't remember the soup smelling like a pumpkin spice candle.
The taste of the soup wasn't as strong in terms of the spices. In fact, it was fairly bland, although there was a hint of fennel. The noodles were slightly chewy, stiff, and mostly flavorless. The meat was excessively fatty for my taste. In a way, the veggies were the best part of the soup, but they were far and few between. I wouldn't have minded more bean sprouts and onions in the mix.
Something spicy was in order. Lacking freshly-sliced jalapeños as the "serving suggestion" depicts, I opted for sriracha sauce. Can't go wrong there. But even generous dollops of my second-favorite condiment couldn't completely redeem this Asian-inspired soup.
I hadn't remembered at the time of purchase, but we did look at a previous iteration of Trader Joe's Beef Pho Soup about 12 years ago. It was packaged differently back then and was likely from a different supplier, as this current cover boasts "Product of Canada" on the box while the previous version did not. We weren't completely bowled over by that last beef pho, but if anything, this rendition is a step in the wrong direction.
Sonia doesn't think this soup is that bad, but then she's never had real pho. She wasn't a fan of the chewy beef either, but she enjoyed the broth and noodles more than I did. Her portion sat around for 5 or 10 minutes longer than mine did, thus causing the rice noodles to soften a bit.
$3.69 for the single serving bowl. I would not buy again. The beautiful wifey is on the fence. Two stars from me for Trader Joe's Beef Pho Soup. Three from Sonia.
I mean Trader Joe's Chocolate Chip Chewy Granola Bars are organic, which is good, but that's where the Trader Joe-isms stop with this classic snack/breakfast-on-the-go.
With whole grain oats, brown rice flour, and unsweetened dried coconut in the chewy, solid base, there's plenty of complex carbs and healthy stuff to keep you feeling full throughout the day. The rest of the ingredients are organic sweeteners like honey, agave, cane sugar, and tapioca syrup.
The bars could probably use a few more chocolate chips. There were definitely a couple bites in each one without any chocolate. The whole grains and sweeteners are tasty enough by themselves that the lack of chips is certainly not a dealbreaker here.
Texture-wise, they're nice and soft. "Chewy" is as accurate a word as any. This box sat in our pantry for at least a month and the bars still felt and tasted as fresh as any pre-packaged granola bar I've ever had. I must point out it is quite warm here now. These types of granola bars tend to get much harder when consumed in colder temperatures.
$2.49 for 8 bars. Each one is individually wrapped, and honestly, they're on the small side. They're just big enough to curb the munchies and keep the blood sugar levels up, but they're on the verge of being so tiny that I'd be tempted to reach for a second.
Three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me on Trader Joe's Organic Chocolate Chip Chewy Granola Bars.
What madness is this? A tiny jar of red threads for six bucks nestled among Trader Joe's more conventional spices? Who would pay $5.99 for two and a half tenths of an ounce of anything? Wait. 0.025 oz. That's two and a half hundredths of an ounce! I grew more and more indignant the more I thought about it.
Enraged, I looked for an unsuspecting Trader Joe's employee to focus my wrath upon as once more I thought, "WHO in their right mind would pay SIX BUCKS for a teeny tiny jar of a mysterious spice from Trader Joe's???"
I would. Of course. The answer to the riddle was ME, naturally, that's who. And I composed and calmed myself once more as I added the tiny glass cork-topped bottle to my cart. We're in this for the adventure, no matter the cost.
The interzones told me to only use two or three threads of this Spanish saffron per serving, otherwise it might overpower the dish. Must be some potent stuff here. Let's find out if it's true.
I didn't find the saffron overpowering per se, even when I used well more than three threads with my food. It's definitely honey-esque, but the sweetness is balanced out by a complex blend of earthy undertones. There's something quite floral about the taste and smell, as well. Experts liken the essence of Spanish saffron to grass or hay. While I can see how they draw the comparison, smell-wise, I find the concept of eating grass or hay too unappealing to mention in the same sentence as this expensive, hand-harvested spice.
Sonia disagrees. She finds Trader Joe's Spanish Saffron decidedly hay-ish. She must have been a horse in a past life. I don't even know what hay tastes like.
I also felt my tongue go numb after bites that contained large pieces of the saffron. It was an interesting sensation—not at all unpleasant, but quite unexpected. It's possible I experienced a mild allergy to the spice. Fortunately the reaction stopped on my tongue and didn't affect my throat or respiratory system. I guess I should exercise a bit of caution when consuming unusual plant matter that my body is unfamiliar with.
This will be a fun one to experiment with. I can't see it not working with any rice-based dish. I feel cultured and worldly just having a bit of this in my cupboard. Hopefully we'll get a chance to impress a few guests with it in the near future. Kosher. Product of Spain. Three and a half stars from Sonia. Four stars from yours truly.
I'm not sure why mackerel isn't more popular. To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time I've ever had it. Every grocery store in America has a section for canned tuna and most have a row or two of canned salmon. Mackerel? I'm not saying it's not there, I'm just saying I've never taken note of it before.
And even though fresh, expertly-prepared salmon is among my favorite foods on earth, canned salmon is a sad substitute for it. Even Trader Joe's Canned Salmon fell short of my expectations.
So Sonia and I went into this purchase with low confidence but were both pleasantly surprised. Trader Joe's Boneless Skinless Mackerel in Sunflower Oil didn't exactly look like a delicacy when I first peeled back the lid of the tin can, with both light and dark meat sections visible, all of it swimming in a tiny sea of sunflower oil.
There were two long, thin fillets of the meat. They forked apart easily enough. The texture was similar to tuna but decidedly firmer. Again, these were actual slabs of natural fish rather than minced into a mush like canned tuna.
The taste was very similar to tuna as well, but slightly less fishy. It was almost like tuna but a step in the direction of canned chicken. The plain unadulterated fish straight from the can definitely received a thumbs up from both Sonia and me. It was even better when served in a salad.
Finally, we chopped up some dolmas, added spinach, mackerel, and balsamic dressing and put it all on water crackers, as seen in the pic above. They turned out messy but surprisingly scrumptious. If we'd added feta, they would have been even more outstanding.
We'll absolutely buy Trader Joe's Wild Caught Boneless Skinless Mackerel again and we'll be on the lookout for other brands of mackerel in other grocery stores. This product had a "best by" date a good three years and some change into the future. I think we found a new pantry staple.
$2.99 for the 6 ounce can. Product of Tunisia. Four stars from me. Four and a half stars from the beautiful wifey.
