Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers

My wife doesn't always believe everything I tell her.

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a concise, simple example of this that I'm openly willing to share. And I'm not talking about a nefarious, relationship-straining kinda doubt. It's more the "have to hear it from someone else" kinda deal. In all, it's pretty harmless, and it's never been over something too deeply serious.

I'm gonna use Trader Joe's Crwamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers for an theoretical example, actually.

This actually didn't occur this way...but if I were somehow to get my hands on a boxful and try them out before she would, and told her that they taste like pizza, she'd probably be reluctant to try and may not even. She's not a tomato fan at all, and abhor tomato soup, so this is a product that would take some convincing for her to try.

But, I guess these soup-flavored crackers made their way on a TJ's fan page somewhere, where a few people all said "These crackers taste like pizza!" and so with that, she made sure to get them, probably mostly for a snack for our tomato soup lovin' girls, but she was pretty pumped to give them a try without any prodding from me.

I disagree, though. These crackers do NOT taste like pizza.

Sure, there's a vague similarity. The earthy soup flavors with a zesty spice flair (pepper, garlic, etc) could be construed as marinara-esque. I didn't pick up on it much, but folks with more attuned taste buds *might* be able to pick up on the asiago cheese. Primarily composed of rice flour, these crackers are light and ultra crispy with a sizable crunch, with the bonus of being gluten free.

But like pizza? Nah, not quite...it's something else...

Pizza Combo filling.

Obviously, in a different form and all, but to me, the similarity is there. Well, maybe less salty. But everything else? Yup. I'm not talking about the pretzel tube part or whatever else, but just the filling in the middle. Tomatoey with generic spice and a hint of cheese. It's there, and it's not necessarily bad, but if these crackers taste like pizza Combos, but if pizza Combos really don't taste all that much like pizza, the transitive property states that these crackers don't taste like pizza. Although I can see why people would think that way...

Am I mad? Crazy? Would this argument hold up in court? I have no idea. You tell me!

In all, our family enjoys them just fine. I like them as a snack that I feel no need to binge on, as does Sandy. But like pizza? Nah. Maybe you'll just to believe me...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Cherry Chocolate Chip Soy Creamy

It's a rare condition that I link to the same seven-year-old post twice in a single week, but that's what we're gonna have to do here. Because in that post, Mr. Shelly states that the Mount Rushmore of Ice Cream would include Ben & Jerry's legendary Cherry Garcia. At the very least, the Vermont-based, Penn State-educated duo set the bar for cherry-flavored frozen desserts with their famous offering. Russ and I are both far too young and drug-free to be considered true Deadheads, but I do appreciate the ice cream as well as its late, great namesake and his music. By the way, Ben and Jerry, when will Bob Weir get an ice cream named after him?

But seriously though, as I scour the web for some background info during my brief prep for writing this post, I am dumbfounded by two revelations: 

1) Ben & Jerry's offers a non-dairy Cherry Garcia made with almond milk, and... 

2) This particular product was available at Trader Joe's at least A DECADE AGO. See: this blogspot food review.

In cases like this, it's anybody's guess as to whether this product was discontinued and then re-released, or whether it's been available all these years, somehow eluding our sights there in the frozen aisle. This recent tweet made me assume it was a new product.

If it has been there all these years, quite frankly I'm shocked that we didn't hear more about it, because it's pretty fantastic. In some ways, the slight nuttiness of the soy milk blends with the chocolate and cherry flavors even better than traditional dairy milk does. I'm eager to try B&J's almond milk-based version now, as that might work even better still. But as it stands, I'd hold this Soy Creamy flavor in higher esteem than the vanilla flavor we tried a while back.

There are plenty of chocolate chips, and the cherries are pretty awesome. They're basically just sugared cherries—as sweet as maraschino cherries, but without the formaldehyde and radioactive Red 40. Plenty of 'em, too. The overall flavor is sweet, but not too sweet, with very little aftertaste.

Sonia is a little under the weather right now and admittedly can't taste very much. She did like the bit of flavor she could detect, and of course she enjoyed the texture. Four stars from her. As someone who generally prefers dairy milk over soy milk, I think this product is worth 4.5, especially if you're lactose-intolerant or vegan.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito

Oh, fast food breakfast sandwiches. They will always be my vice. A few years back, I'd eat two of them a morning a few times a week, and wonder why I was about a hundred pounds overweight. Those days have passed, and I'm in a better place and all, but still...can't quite give up the breakfast sandwich. Fortunately I'm down to usually only one a week now, on Fridays as a treat. Seems reasonable enough a prize for lasting thru a long week up to that point, with a little added something to get me the rest of the way home.

I have my usual go-to spot, but anytime I hear anything new about a breakfast sandwich somewhere, my ears instantly perk. So only naturally, when I heard of the new Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito, I had to give it a try.

Not that TJ's exactly has a sparkling history of mornin' wraps. I'm with Nathan on those - gross and nondescript. The burritos, I mean, and not Nathan. He's a pretty good guy.

As with most things, there's plusses and minuses here. First, it's in the refrigerator section, and not frozen. This means there's a definite fresher quality to the whole shebang that plays out through things like tortilla and egg texture, and there's no chance of any frozen little chunks here or there which torpedo any decent shot at breakfast. Indeed, everything's pretty on point in that regard. To heat, there's both oven and microwave options, which Sandy and I tried both - the oven, unsurprisingly, is the superior option by far, with the tortilla getting nice and crackery-cripsy, as opposed to soft and flaky and crumbly and kinda limp. Of course, you might not always have half an hour to heat a breakfast burrito, and if you did, you could probably easily make a better one yourself, so there's that.

Each element is good and solid in its own right - tortilla is representative, the eggs of decent quality, the cheese present but lacking much distinction, and the chicken sausage and potatoes holding up their end of the deal. Problem is, there's kinda an overall lack of flavor. Nothing is good enough to really stand out on its own, and there's not even enough spice added to really do too much. Granted, this just means you could easily doctor with your favorite salsa or hot sauce or whatever else you wanted, if you wanted to. I kinda just wish there was something more to it - more sharpness to the cheddar, or more savoriness from the sausage, or a little peppery kick, or something - but nope.

Then there's the price. It's $3.99 for the burrito. That doesn't strike me as great bargain for something I have to heat myself and probably add more stuff to. Heck, my go-to breakfast sandwich of choice costs less and I can pile high with veggies and customize to my heart's content. Man, I love touchscreen menus...

Overall, the sausage breakfast wrap is a good, not great, bite. It fills a void and uses up a lot of your discretionary nutritional values for the day. Sandy and I shared a burrito both times we had it for breakfast, and with some fruit and coffee it was more than adequate to hold us over til lunch. But I struggle to see the point of its existence - it's not often I'd find going to TJ's more convenient than a drive-thru or convenience store for a bite. Plus, I've learned through too many embarrassing shirt stains that burritos are absolutely not meant to be consumed on the go, which this seems tailored to...just odd. Maybe I'm completely whiffing on something here. Can't seem to muster more than a halfhearted three for it, while Sandy goes in a little higher.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken Sausage Breakfast Burrito: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Deep Dish Chocolate Chip Cookie

In addition to fraternity hazing deaths, sports victory-inspired riots, and a few other things too heinous to even mention on this blog, my alma mater, Penn State, was well-known at least regionally, if not internationally, for a number of less controversial things—at least while I attended. There was the famous Berkey Creamery, mentioned previously several times on this blog. There was THON, the largest student-run philanthropy in existence. And then there were colorful—although some might use the term "legendary"—long-time residents like Mike the Mailman, Zam Man the zamboni driver, and Gary the Willard Preacher. 

And in between painful morning gen ed classes and those mandatory phys ed credits that manifested themselves in the form of underwater basket weaving or, in my case, squash, we'd duck in to the cafeteria at West Halls for some grub. Everybody knew they had the best food of any of the half-dozen or so dining commons on campus, and it was close to many of the larger classroom buildings. The food was always warm and fresh and somehow tasted less "institutional" than the other cafeterias. You'd meet your friends outside Waring Commons and then head in out of the cold for an hour or so to recover your strength and inhale a chicken cosmo or two...and it was all building up to one grand moment:  when the lunch ladies put a tray of piping hot, fresh-baked, ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies out on the dessert window.

Eighty percent of the room would hop out of their seats and rush to claim their cookies. In most cases, students would have prepared a glass of milk beforehand to have on stand-by. In other cases, they'd rush to the soft-serve machine to top their cookies with some vanilla ice cream. For a few minutes, we'd all commune in a moment of pure bliss greater than that following a win at Beaver Stadium, an aced mid-term, or finding out that your favorite band just booked a show at The Crowbar. Chocolate Chip Cookie Nirvana.

This offering from Trader Joe's is the closest thing to that particular brand of ecstasy since those days at Dear Old State. It's got the perfect amount of smooth chocolate chips and soft, chewy sweet cookie goodness. Like the West Halls cookies, this one is best served fresh out of the oven, accompanied by generous quantities of milk and/or vanilla ice cream. The "deep dish" breading is much thicker than any traditional chocolate chip cookie I've ever had, but that's just another reason this confection rocks. The box includes microwave directions...but I'm going to go out on a limb and tell you to just go ahead and fire up the oven for this one.

It comes with an oven-safe tray, and it's very easy to heat, slice, and prepare. Despite its extreme softness, the cookie still maintained enough structural integrity that I was able to pull most of the slices out fully intact. The product melts in your mouth, goes down nice and easy, and would pass for restaurant-quality with flying colors.

The cookie sells for $3.99—a fair price, considering you're paying for quality ingredients and unadulterated scrumptiousness...but good luck getting 10 servings out of it. It's probably more like four.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip

So this weekend is the Super Bowl!

Whoop-de-doo.

A couple years ago, I could plop down, turn any old football game (much less the biggest one of the year) and be reasonably entertained. These days? Not so much. Not exactly sure why, but pigskin doesn't have the same appeal to me in the past few seasons. I didn't even watch the Super Bowl, opting for a date out with my wife including going to emptiest Cheesecake Factory ever. I've watched maybe five games over the past three seasons. My guess is, watching a bunch of big guys in tights run around, fight over a ball, smack each other senseless with concussions, only for every play to be dissected in slo-mo for ten agonizing minutes on "instant replay" with continued live look-ins to whatever funny grimace the head coach is making just doesn't hold the same appeal to me, and for my small amount of attention I can give the sports world, I choose to devote it to baseball.

It's kinda the same for Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip. I'm not sure how this blog has been around for like eight years and we've never mentioned this product...but it's true. If the TJ queso would have come up in review rotation years back, I'd probably LOVE this stuff. I mean, it's semi-spicy-salsafied cheese, how can it go wrong?

Well, for whatever reason, it just doesn't cut it for me any more. Sandy and I picked up the diminutive jar for a recent taco night in the name of trying something different. Shoulda sticked to the classics. The cheese is kinda runny and gloppy and absolutely needs to be warmed to be palatable. I tried some cold just now to revisit the taste - cold, clammy, and kinda booger-y. Not recommended.

It's apparently some sort of cheese blend that's primarily cheddar according to the ingredient label. I will grant that it's better quality nacho cheese than the stadium standard yellow sauce. But not by all that much. There's still a fake, salty taste to it. The spices and peppers do convey a little warm heat, but is generally inoffensive. If anything, it tastes a little more towards pickled and vinegar than actual heat. Overall, it's just not an impressive product.

Anyways, if you need a dip for the game, go for it. You could do worse, I'm sure. But I'll be looking for something else, as I am planning on watching at least some this weekend. I grew up an Eagles fan and am watching more out of obligation than anything, even though I can't tell you in 100% certainty if Doug Pederson is the head coach or quarterback after that Wentz guy got some sort of big ouchie. Won't have too much feeling about the outcome either way, I'm sure. Kinda the same for the TJ queso dip - mehs abound.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Queso Cheese Dip: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda and Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda

Rhubarb. 

I know you can make a pie from it, though I don't think I've ever had one. I know it's celery-esque and looks like a vegetable. 

And that's about it. That's a comprehensive summary of my personal knowledge of rhubarb up to this point. Sure, I Googled it and informed myself a bit more just now, but I never had any idea what it tasted like until I tried this soda.

Elderflower is a similar mystery to me. I assumed it was a type of flower that perhaps grows on the same plant as elderberries..? I'm apparently correct on both of those assumptions, although I'm guessing a good percentage of our readers could elaborate on the elder bush a great deal more than I am able to—and if you care to flaunt your botanical expertise in the comments section, I invite you to do so to your heart's content.

But evaluating something brand new with few preconceived notions can be a good thing.

First thoughts on the rhubarb strawberry soda: VERY unique. Like strawberry, but significantly more tart. Perfect amount of sweetness and carbonation. Just different enough from a run-of-the-mill sweet soda that it's worth a try simply for the novelty of the experience.

And the lemon elderflower offering? Similarly unique, but not to the same degree. Like a Wink, Fresca, or Squirt type soda, but with more true lemon flavor and an unexpected flowery essence. I'd generally prefer the classic citrus sodas over this Trader Joe's beverage. Sonia thinks there's something guava-esque going on here. I don't know if I'd put it like that, but I do agree that there's an odd aftertaste vaguely similar to that of guava. It doesn't taste like guava per se, but it confuses the tongue in a similar manner, if that makes sense.

We both like the rhubarb & strawberry soda slightly more than the lemon elderflower one. I wasn't expecting that going into it, since I tend to enjoy any and all citrus sodas, and products like Strawberry Fanta are palatable, but certainly not the first drink I'd reach for on a regular basis.

Considering the diminutive size of these cans, I think $3.49 is a bit steep. Each 8.4 oz can is just barely enough to quench my thirst at any given moment. I could easily go through all four in a single day. The quality here is very high. Good ingredients. Interesting flavors. Sonia and I would both consider buying the rhubarb & strawberry again for a special occasion. Sonia will go with four and a half stars on the strawberry and an even four for the lemon. I'll go a full star less than that on both.

Trader Joe's Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda: Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit

This probably doesn't come as any sort of huge surprise or shocker, but...salad, in general, doesn't really excite me.

Most veggies are perfectly fine. I can eat broccoli, Brussel sprouts, squash, etc all day long. At the continued shock of my coworkers, I'll happily eat plain raw spinach at my desk. Aside from beets, off the top of my head, there's not a single vegetable I can think of that I don't like...still, salad leaves me ambivalent at best.

Maybe it's mixing up veggies. Maybe it's my usual distaste for many salad dressings. Or maybe it's just kinda the boring hum-drum that I find most salads to be, especially of the pre-packaged variety.

All that to say, I was kinda excited to try out Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit. Don't let the name fool you - slaw? Psshhh. It's salad all chopped up in shreds.

I wish I didn't get my hopes up so high.

There's nothing inherently wrong with the slaw kit. But there's nothing overly right, either. It's the same usual base blend of carrots, broccoli stalks, cabbage and kale in roughly equal proportion to one another. That part is good, but formulaic enough now for TJ's kits that it's not exactly meant as a heap of praise either. It's just kinda a given at this point. Fresh, crisp, crunchy, all that excellent stuff...

...but moving on to what should be the exciting stuff, right? The extras and mix-ins! This is where salads make or break it. First up: dried apricot tidbits! Always a fun add...if there were enough to go around. Not this time. We got only a small spoonful which is hard to split up in multiple meaningful portions. A small nice touch, as were the pepitas, for a little crunch and all, but again nothing too remarkable.

And the dressing? Ugh. "Tahini orange" it says. So sesame, with a citrus flair, so it could work, but there's also this vinegar-y presence that kinda muffs it all up. Much like my three year old when choosing between dinosaurs or trucks for her night-night pull-up, it's just so indecisive and kinda frustrating. Like, it should be good, but instead just gets in its own way. Sandy said it kinda tastes like nothing. I disagree - it tastes like something, just I have no idea what it should be. And instead of tying up the whole salad as a nice cohesive dish, it kinda makes the salad a turnoff.

Oh well. It's not a terrible price at $3, and I appreciate the ampersand in the title for what it's worth. They seem to be disappearing from TJ product names, as are the different Joes from around the world. Times are a-changin' I guess. But my general ambivalence towards salads is not. Both Sandy and I give it a pretty middlin' score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's For the Love of Chocolate Mousse Cake

About this same time last year, I waxed poetic about love and marriage, inspired by some heart-shaped cookies from Trader Joe's. It was easy to get inspired both because my wife, Sonia, is pretty awesome, and because those cookies were surprisingly good. I mentioned how I disliked Valentine's Day, and how silly that ubiquitous traditional heart shape is—you know, the one this chocolate mousse cake is in. I'd much rather eat an anatomically-correct heart cake, especially from one of the few stores that might just be quirky enough to carry something that bizarre someday.

In the above-mentioned Raspberry Hearts review, I rambled on about sentimental nonsense and how "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and yadda yadda yadda inspirational what-have-you and "hope is just around the corner" type jazz. And of course the universe seized the opportunity to dish out one of the most challenging and difficult years of our adult lives. 

Well, my friends, I've decided to no longer dispense "wisdom" of any kind and to pout like a toddler until the universe lets up on us for a while. There'll be no "rising above the storm" this year. If things are as difficult this year as they were last year, I'll do nothing but complain and whine and moan like a bratty child, and we'll see if that strategy tricks whoever's in charge up there into giving up the whole "refining them in the fire" business or whatever's been going on lately.

I hope you all understand that I'm mostly just kidding. And of course, our troubles are not unique. I'm well aware of that. I'm frequently reminded of the age-old quote, often attributed to Plato: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Truer words were never spoken.

Ahem, on to the food review. 

There's a pleasant chocolate cake smell that wafts out from the plastic container right when the lid is removed. The presentation is quite nice, and the price is just right for a thoughtful little V-day gift for your significant other—$3.99.

The texture's just a tad stiffer than I would have imagined...and I won't say the cake is "dry" by any means, but it's not particularly moist, either. It tastes like multiple variations of chocolate and chocolate cake layered on one another, and it's pretty sweet, plenty choco-riffic, and would serve as an adequate dessert for the end of an average meal. It reminded us of the Chocolate Mousse Pumpkins we had, which of course are remarkably similar to the Chocolate Mousse Eggs, reviewed on this blog a couple years ago. I think Sandy Shelly said it best when she called them "kinda like a fancy Little Debbie." This product is no different, except it's much larger than a single Little Debbie snack cake.

The overall value and presentation isn't bad, so we won't besmirch it too greatly. A cake isn't a person, but we'll be kind anyway. I promise this won't be the best chocolate mousse or chocolate cake you've ever had, but there's a good chance it won't be the worst, either. Three stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites

Let's have a moment of honesty here, please.

Do you really need me to tell you to go out and get Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites as a big ol' baggie of snacky nom-noms? Look, it's churros. In a snack sack. No baking. No nothing. Just ready to go, rip open and inhale.

Likewise, did I really need to put on that facade around my wife on our most recent TJ's trip? I did a whole "Well I heard these were good so I think just maybe we should try them if only for the blog. You know, for science...yeah...that's it. Science" bit. Honey, please. There was no way I was not leaving without at least one package of churrolicious snackage, and it's not like I really had to twist my anyone's arm over it, either.

It's churros, AKA one of my favorite co-opted delights from our southern neighbors. Probably one of yours too. And now in highly convenient, prepackaged form, because 'merica. That's how we do it.

And true to fom, these churritos are muy delicioso.

Think of warm, soft, crispy outside/doughy inside churros, coated all over with cinnamon, but translated into big, crunchy, nugget form. That's what we got going on here. Tastewise, they're spot on, with strong notes of brown sugar and carmelization and all out comfort vibe. They're delectable as is, but they're begging to be paired with ice cream or fondue dip or whatever else. There's even a little requisite greasiness - no napkin worthy, but a good lick of the fingertips afterwards is the right idea. So it's pretty slight. Speaking of slight, there is the ittiest-bittiest hint of vanilla in the crispified batter, which adds a real nice, wholesome touch. Me gusta.

The nugget form works too, all things considered. When it comes down to it, I do prefer the soft doughiness of fried churros, but these baked guys get it done. The insides are airy and flakey but pack plenty of crunch, with even a little slight creaminess to it, like a good pastry, almost. The texture reminds me of something but I can't quite put my finger on it...maybe it'll come to me. But the corn flour makes a harder outer shell, with plenty of give inside, while still being sturdy all around. I guess kinda like a giant baked Corn Puff...but better.

So yeah, you don't really need me to tell ya about these! Chances are, if this is even remotely your kinda thing, you're on them already. But hey, we need you, our fans. It's where we get some of our best suggestions. One of our Facebook superfans, Ruthie, recommended warming in the over for a few minutes, which I wouldn't have thought of myself...a great idea! Added crunch and carmelization, though be careful, they do burn quick as I found out. And as something new, there's an already pretty great TJ's fan page on Reddit that you can join - I (Russ) just did to share ideas, tips, and fun. Hope to see you on there - I'm WGaTJ_Russ on there.

Enjoy, amigos.



Bottom line: Trader Joe's Baked Churro Bites: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons