Trader Joe's Iced Pumpkin Scone Cookies

I recently took a look at some non-TJ's Pumpkin Scones. In the review, I mentioned that those scones were soft, fresh, and just a step or two away from homemade. That's the main thing Sonia and I liked about them. They had a freshness sticker on the container to let consumers know when their "best by" date expired. Beauty is fleeting, and apparently, so is fresh-baked pumpkin goodness.

But these scone cookies feel like they've been in the packaging for a while. And to be fair, they have. They're not meant to be super soft and have a significant shelf life. These scone cookies, in my humble opinion, are just a step up from something you might get out of a vending machine. Now, granted, I've had many a delicious and satisfying snacks from vending machines over the years, and one of my favorite purchases used to be Little Debbie's Donut Sticks. They get a "D-" for their nutrition information, and at first glance, TJ's offering would seem to be significantly less bad-for-you. But if you think about the relative serving sizes, I'm pretty sure two of these little scone cookies don't come anywhere close to one full donut stick. And anyway, the donut sticks are decidedly lacking in pumpkin spice goodness, although I wouldn't put it past Debbie—that saucy little minx—to offer us a pumpkinized version in the near future (if there isn't one out there already).

I must say, though, that texture-wise, that's what these scone cookies remind me of. There's a heavily-iced outer layer that's firm and sugary, and the bread within is dense and sweet—but not as sweet as the coating. Yes, the texture is similar to some other scones, but somehow I think the donut sticks analogy works better here.

Flavor-wise, they're not such a far cry from other pumpkin goodies in recent memory like the pumpkinny pumpkin bites, but the firmer texture of the scone cookies makes them a tad less palatable, in my opinion. They've got the pumpkin puree and signature spices (cinnamon and nutmeg) that we've come to know and love this time of year. But those spices, combined with the cookies' relative dryness, made me cough a bit here and there.

I wish I could give these a sparkling review, but during this autumn season, overwhelmed with Pumpkin Joe's pumpkinny pumpkin parade, only the true stand-outs will get anything close to perfect scores. And at this point, I do have to mention that I finally tried the Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls that Russ reviewed last year. Now THOSE are truly unique and delicious. In that case, ginger is the main attraction and pumpkin plays second fiddle, and I think that's one of the primary things that separates them from the pack, although there's still a uniquely autumnal, harvesty goodness about them. 

All things considered, these scone cookies aren't bad at all—and they're cleverly packaged in multiple sheets so you don't have to unseal the whole package at once—but they're certainly not the first pumpkin product I'd steer you towards in that ever-increasing ocean of orange.

Three stars from me, four from Sonia. She liked them significantly more than I did.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin-y Pumpkin Bites

If you're not sick of pumpkin by the end of October, then we're just not doing our jobs as food bloggers. This product is TJ's way of saying, "You want PUMPKIN?? Oh, we'll give you PUMPKIN!" And they found a clever way to work the word "pumpkin" into the title of the product not once, but twice. I'm certain there's a triple-pumpkin product on its way, but until then, here are some suggestions, Trader Joe, for more ways to work the word "pumpkin," or some variation of it, into the title of a product two times: Trader Joe's Pumpkintastic Pumpkin Cookies, Trader Joe's Pumpkiniferous Snack Bars of Pumpkin, Pumpkin Joe's Pumpkin Puree, Trader Joe's Pumpkin Flavored Pumpkinosity Blasts, etc, etc. I could go on for pages and pages. 

I do question the use of the hyphenated form of "pumpkin-y" over the more obvious "pumpkinny," though. I feel as if when creating fictional pumpkin-based adjectives that hyphenation tends to scream "This is a made-up word!" whereas simply adding a suffix to the previously inalterable word lends the fictitious adjective a bit more credibility—and, yes, perhaps even a bit more dignity. But I digress.

These dessert squares are indeed pumpkinny. But why these are worthy of the double pumpkin moniker and something like, say, Pumpkin Butter, is not, I'm not quite sure. They're about as pumpkintastic as any of the other myriad pumpkin products we've seen from TJ's these past few years. True, they do have "pumpkin flakes" (whatever they are), pumpkin puree, and pumpkin spices, but I'm not sure if I think these are head and shoulders more pumpkincalifragilistic than any other pumpkin product.

They taste like above-average pumpkin cookies. They're nice and soft, and the coating of brown sugar and spices on the top gives them just a hint of a firmer, almost crunchy texture. They're almost like little pumpkin-flavored coffee cakes. The batch we have here at home tastes fresh, without a hint of staleness. You can definitely detect certain pumpkin spices like cinnamon and nutmeg. The pumpkin spice flavor is moderately strong, but certainly not overwhelming. My guess is that it's not a product for "pumpkin agnostics," though. You've got to be pretty heavily into pumpkin and its affiliated spices in order to appreciate these.

But by the same token, these aren't as exciting as some of the other pumpkin products we've seen recently. There's a lot of novelty value plus a huge weirdness factor with products like Pumpkin Pie Mochi. For me, that's a good thing. Here, we just have pumpkin cookies—admittedly, very decent pumpkin cookies—being served to us as "dessert squares." Fun and festive and perfect for fall, this offering is another fine Pumpkin Joe's purchase, but for me personally, they will probably pale in comparison to some of the more peculiar products in the pleasantly palatable pumpkin pasture.

Three and a half stars from me. Same from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Candy

Russ, Sonia, and I were recently guests on another great podcast, Candyology 101, to talk about our favorite and least favorite Trader Joe's brand candies with candy experts Cybele and Maria.

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Podcast Episode 9: Fall Favorites

In this episode, we talk about our favorite fall, pumpkin, and harvest items from Trader Joe's!

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Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels

Listen: it doesn't matter that I, Russ, truly enjoyed every tidbit of the irresistible Pumpkin Pie Spice Cookie Butter to the fullest. Or, as Nathan will be pointing out on an upcoming podcast about our favorite fall products, those Mini Ginger Pumpkin Ice Cream Mouthfuls. I have been, still am, and always will be the self-proclaimed Pumpkin Agnostic, doubting the existence of an all-good, all delicious gourd in all the various/nefarious ways it tries to manifest itself this time of year. Maybe that Great Pumpkin exists for the rest of you, but for me, never. Although I will enjoy the occasional well-executed pumpkin product, I will continue to rail against pumpkin spice this, pumpkin spice that, as a voice calling out from the anti-pumpkin spice wilderness. We don't need pumpkin spice everything this time of year! Enjoy something else fall-related! Like apple cider! Or chili! Or Octoberfest brews!

And these Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels are a prime example of the trend gone wild. Look: there's absolutely no reason why this product should exist. I'll tell you exactly what this is: a nifty little box throwing out as many buzzwords as it can in an effort to part you from $5 in exchange for twelve bites of some of the most awful candy you'll ever try. Even if you like pumpkin spice.

Listen: it just doesn't work. At all. It's not the dark chocolate's fault. As is typical with most TJ's dark cocoa products, it's about 55-60% dark - I prefer darker, but that's a level palatable to most of the masses. It's more everything else> Listen: it's widely accepted fact that caramel and chocolate, and also salted caramel, are perfect matches. Salt and chocolate works. Pumpkin caramel can work for some at least...and Sandy did make a decent pumpkin bread with chocolate chips in it, so all that can work. But when all those elements get tossed all together with no real regard...blecch. The caramel reservoirs hold a smooth, rich, creamy center that tends to ooze a little more than what's in our picture, but it sports a hefty pumpkin pie-y flavor level that hits too hard then leaves a funky, almost chemically aftertaste. I'd liken it quite happily to what a dollar store Yankee Candle knockoff must taste like - just too much, too over the top, with no real attempt at subtlety or restraint that would help rein in everything. Honestly, it made my mouth and stomach feel funny, too.

Funny thing is: that's not even the worst part. Oh no. Look at that salt. No way around saying it: it's revolting. There's entirely way too much. Even knocking some off didn't help. Is this what rock salt tastes like? I'm tempted to try and write a pun with "salt" and "assault", leaving out the "u" but that leaves a hyphenated word that, apt as it may be as to describing the flavor, just doesn't appear to be entirely family friendly.  There's too much, it's too potent, and will completely override any other flavor, from start to finish. It's not an accompaniment, it's the center of attention, not because of it's own merit but instead of it's rude, inept clumsiness, like the awkward uncle at a family reunion. I grimaced at every bite I took before finally giving up. A little too much pumpkin spice. A lot too much salt.

So in short: Take decent dark chocolate. Add molten generic fall-themed candle and a pile of salt from your winter driveway stash. Insert in mouth. Chances are, you'll be happier.

 Unless you're my wife.

Listen: I'm not one to question her tastes - I mean, look at who she married, right? But Sandy said she actually kinda almost liked them. I'm flabbergasted. "I like the chocolate, and I think the caramel/pumpkin centers are just fine, but the salt...." she said as she shook her head. "No bueno." Ugh. I don't know what to say - she's literally the only person I've ever heard say anything remotely positive about these candies. And she'll give them a score just as high as her score for the pumpkin cookie butter - a three. I think we need to schedule her a doctor visit to get her taster checked. Anyways, if you can't tell, I didn;t like these. At all. For once, it wasn't just the pumpkin's fault. Absolute zero from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Spice Salted Caramels: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Autumnal Harvest Creamy Pasta Sauce

Very nice use of the word "autumnal" here, TJ's. Very nice indeed. Now let's see if you can work the word "vernal" into the title of one of your Spring 2016 products...

If you guys have been reading the blog for a while, you know that Sonia and I love pumpkin (especially Sonia)—and furthermore, despite a recent review or two, that Russ is a pumpkin-hater. On an upcoming podcast episode, though, he makes the very valid point that there are many delicious non-pumpkin items that appear on the shelves of "Pumpkin Joe's" this time of year. This quality product is a prime example of something that might slip through the cracks if you're wearing those pumpkin goggles too tightly.

But not to worry, there's pumpkin in it. It's not strictly a pumpkin product, though. Similar to the recently-reviewed Harvest Salsa and some other pumpkin salsas we've seen, our favorite over-sized orange gourd is blended seamlessly with tomato and butternut squash, among other things. Despite tomato puree and pumpkin puree appearing above butternut squash puree on the ingredients, I still think this tastes more like butternut squash than anything else. Flavor-wise, it's savory, subtle, and it's absolutely scrumptious. There's a beautiful mixture of spices rounding out the taste, including garlic, rosemary, cayenne pepper, and sage. It's a very mild spiciness, though.

As far as texture goes, it's not too thick, and not too thin. It's very creamy and smooth, but the creaminess doesn't get in the way of those harvest veggies, in terms of flavor. Sonia pointed out that some "creamy" sauces have too much cream or milk, and they wind up tasting like a dairy product instead of a pasta sauce, but not here. This stuff is well-balanced in every way. Sonia thinks it would make a great pizza sauce. I can see where she's coming from—if you wanted to try a do-it-yourself "Autumnal Harvest Pizza," this would be the right place to start.

But for now, I think I'll stick with pasta. We had it with some non-TJ's cheese ravioli. It worked perfectly, with the majority of the flavor coming from the pasta sauce, just slightly overshadowing the mostly-neutral tastes of the dough and the cheese blend in the ravioli. I'm really anxious to get to some pumpkin reviews, but this was a condiment I just had to tell you guys about. If you're into traditional harvest flavors, butternut squash or pumpkin soup, this is a must-try.

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

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pie Spice Cookie Butter

The conspiracy grows!

On a recent podcast, I espoused the theory that Nathan and I are just puppets for the Belgian world domination, by stumbling upon all sorts of delicious cookie butter products from Trader Joe's, enticing all of you to buy them. You know exactly how mind-alteringly delicious it is, with that sweet, numb sense of contented complacency that washes over.

What exactly are those tricksy Belgians setting us up for? Who knows? But get this: Now the Canadians are involved! Canada, America's hat - they're in on it now too!

True story: Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pie Spice Cookie Butter is Canadian. Lest anything be lost in translation (too many "eh"s) or exchange rate, our Northern neighbors are doubling down by combining the irresistible force of "pumpkin pie anything" with the relentless pull of "cookie butter!" to make me drool over the prospect, and I don't even own any yoga pants, Uggs, or Taylor Swift albums. There's a limit to my basic.

And listen: I'm not even that big of a cookie butter or pumpkin pie spice guy...but this is too good. Way too good. Evilly good. Goodly evil. It's...it's...it's....very orange. I mean, take a look at it. You wanna know what that is? That's pureed pumpkin, blended right in there, with pumpkin powder to boot, with the classic speculoos spread we've all come to love. Good gourd, y'all. This makes for an even smoother than usual mouthfeel, with a little extra stickiness to linger around a little bit longer, with the crunchy cookie tidbits still very present but a little more sparse. I mean, it's so smooth, I'm almost tempted to see if it'll double as a bath and beauty product.

I'd try that but it's just way too delicious to lather around any other part of me. It's almost surprising how natural the marriage between pumpkin pie and cookie butter really is, if you stop to think about it. There's some spice overlap between the two, but the cookie spread has a good bit of the classic nutmeg/allspice/cloves mix tossed in, with enough pumpkin flavor poking through to have this taste almost like a legitimate pumpkin pie filling. Except it's richer, and cookie-ier, with the unmistakable flavor (shall I say "flavour" since it's Canadian?) of regular cookie butter. This spread strattles the line so close between both classic tastes so well, yet is so balanced and nearly seamless that in a lot of ways it's quite an accomplishment.

Not going to lie: Picked up three jars the very morning this was first available, two for a departmental snacky day at work and one here for the fam. After first taste I wanted to hoard them all to myself. I've eaten way too much of this, either on top of graham crackers or right off a spoon. The unnutritional stats are, well, awful. I don't care. Very, very impressed, and I'm hooked...and I'm usually impervious to this kinda stuff. Not this time.

 I'm sold. Perfect five. Sandy's liking it too, but not to the same extent. "I kinda wish it were more one thing or another," she said. Nope, not me, and I'm hoping that her relative indifference will have her be less mad when she'll invariably discover I left an empty, scraped out jar in the pantry. She can muster only about a 3.5. My only reasonable conclusion: The Belgians and Canadians haven't gotten to her...yet.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pie Spice Cookie Butter: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Flavored Dog Treats

Happy Friday, everyone! Here's a bonus review for anyone who has dogs. (It's really just an excuse to throw that hot keyword "pumpkin" out there a few more times before the human pumpkin foods roll in.) I mean, sure, Russ has found a few "harvest" items lately, but they're nothing like the "p-word" in terms of search engine love. So here we go, PUMPKIN!

Like other Trader Joe's brand pet treats, Alfred and Sadie loved these. They're too big for small dogs and they're super hard, but our hounds couldn't care less. Also, they don't taste much like pumpkin at all. Do the dogs know that? Do they care? Probably not. Just watch the video. Sorry for the run-and-gun-style shooting, shoddy editing, and poor sound quality. But hey, there are cute puppies and pretty fall pumpkin treat things. Plus, I eat dog food! Again!

For those of you pining for human pumpkin food, hang on, get ready, and stay tuned. There's a pumpkin storm coming that will utterly blow your mind!

If you're interested in the nutrition info for this product, just click here.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 paw prints.

Trader Joe's Salmon & Vegetable Croquettes

When I was a little kid, my dad brought home some croquettes from the supermarket once. They weren't salmon and vegetable...they were potato and something I think. But anyway, that doesn't matter. And honestly, I don't even remember what they tasted like, but I must have liked them because I remember asking for them more than once. 

I had never heard of a croquette before, but the way I remembered the name was that it was similar to the sound a toad makes: "croak." So the next day I used my (faulty) memory device and asked my dad for another "ribbit."

Silly the things you remember and the things you don't. And one thing I'm not soon to forget is the fishiness of the last salmon product I reviewed or that of the worst salmon product I've ever had. But fortunately for me, this salmon dish is the exact opposite of those fishy salmon dishes. It still tastes like salmon, but with virtually none of the bad kind of fishiness. That is to say, it was quite tasty.

I pan fried mine on the stove top with some coconut spray until they were golden brown on the top and bottom. As per the instructions, I thawed them in the microwave for about 45 seconds prior to the actual cooking. I still think they needed a couple extra minutes in the pan—maybe because my microwave is old and weak. But I trusted my eye instead of following the instructions to the letter, and I wasn't disappointed.

They were slightly crispy on the outside and all the ingredients were nice and soft—almost like crab cakes—in the middle. Flavor-wise, everything was well balanced and delicate. There was a good bit of that high-quality salmon, and it was definitely the main attraction, although the edamame, kale, broccoli, and chia seeds gave it a nice veggie base, with subtle notes of nuttiness.

At first, I thought $5.49 was a bit steep, but if you compare this product to an appetizer at a restaurant, it's not a bad deal. And yes, these croquettes are indeed restaurant-quality, if you ask Sonia or me. The wifey was just as impressed as I was. She really enjoyed this salmon, but also really loved this particular medley of veggies. Double fours here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa

Hrmmm. Just reading the front label of the brand-spankin' new Trader Joe's Harvest Salsa. Pumpkins. Apples. Butternut Squash. In a "salsa." Riiiight.

Sandy, an excellent photographer who doubles as a savvy shopper, snapped this up just this morning on her weekly TJ's run. I had heard NOTHING about this salsa until she sent me the picture at work of the jar front with our new little copyright in the corner. Nice pic, babe! But all I could see was the jar front, and since I hadn't seen any buzz or any news about it anywhere, here's the word that came to mind: Baby food.

Apples and squash are pretty traditional Gerbery glop, after all. Sure, it might be a little fancier - look, it's an "autumnal mélange" after all - but that's more or less what I expected. More savory, no spicy, kinda meh. Doesn't help that I'm not a huge pumpkin guy anyways. I think before twisting the lid off for the maiden tasting voyage I cracked some some joke about it was going to smell like a vaguely Mexican Yankee Candle.

Yet once again...I was wrong.

Don't let it fool you: Even though pumpkin is the primary ingredient, this is a salsa, first and foremost. Look at the rest of the ingredients: Tomatoes. Tomatillos. Jalapeños. Peppers. With the exception of the lime, I could probably grow everything in my back garden...but I'd never think of mashing them all up together into some Frankensalsa.

In a way, the salsa base is a lot like other Trader Joe's salsa - Cowboy Caviar (minus beans and corn) comes to mind, for instance. It's got that same chunky-spicy-sweet tilt to it - a good enough kick, but not enough to easily offend most palates. For this harvest blend, I'd say that the pumpkin and butternut squash add more body and girth than flavor. To my taste, they do add an earthy dimension, but it seems somewhat offset by a little bit of the spiciness being muted. As for the apples - they add a little crispy sweet angle, though it doesn't stand out. I can't quite figure out what type of apple it is, but it's definitely a tamer variety. There's a little touch of honey to amp up the sugar a little bit more, but in all, it's a very smooth, even flavor.

Honestly, both Sandy and I are pretty impressed by this stuff, and how well it incorporated so many different elements. I originally had planned on taking only a few small bites on tortilla chips as an after-main-course tidbit at dinner, which within a couple minutes turned into one of those "We need to put this away now" type moments we are too prone to. It's not enough to have me divorce my still-favorite salsa, and I'm not sold on how well it'd go over at breakfast on some eggs, but for almost anything else you'd put salsa on, go for it. Sandy mentioned a couple times she thinks it'd pair especially well with some grilled chicken, which I'd second. For a little seasonal variety, this is better than what we had bargained for, and well worth the $2.99 price tag.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Podcast Episode 8: Lazy Deli Meat

In this episode of Let's Talk TJ's! we talk about some of Trader Joe’s newest products.

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Trader Joe's Harvest Blend

*Sniff, sniff* Hrmm, what's that smell in the air? Let's see...very late summer, not quite the autumnal equinox, warm days but cool nights, kids back in school...ah yes, must be the beginning on the annual onslaught of what I call "Pumpkin Everything!" season. Ugh. Annual disclaimer time: It's not that I'm anti-pumpkin stuff. I'm just anti- the overabundance of quite literally everything stinkingly possible having some nutmeg and cinnamon tossed on it and it be called a pumpkinpumpkin somethin'somethin'. I get it: basic capitalism. Supply and demand. But still. Let's get a hold of ourselves, people.

Of course, TJ's is no exception. I don't have the time in the day to individually link to everything pumpkin we've ever reviewed, nor the resources to hire an intern to do that menial labor, but there's several dozen, at least. Click here and go scour around if so inclined - chances are, if it's Trader Joe's, and if it's pumpkin, we've done it, or soon will. Thanks, Nathan, for doing most of that.

Despite my gourded enthusiasm about most pumpkin stuff, though, got to admit, I was a little intrigued by one of the newer salad-in-a-bag deals, Trader Joe's Harvest Blend. Maybe it was the success of the kale quinoa deal a little bit ago that whet my appetite, but I can get behind pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin cornbread croutons sound good, and...what the....

Pumpkin vinaigrette? I'm not a big salad dressing guy, but a nice light Italian or regular vinaigrette is okay every once in a while, but is this really something that oughtta be crossbred with anything big and orange that grows on a vine?  I tell you the truth: your entire perception of this salad hinges nearly completely on how you feel about that question.

For me: not sold. Not abhorred either. But...it's kinda weird. As a plus, from what I can tell from perusing the ingredients, there's no cinnamon or nutmeg or any pumpkin-pie like spices added to the dressing itself - it seems to be straight up pumpkin - imagine that! The flavor was kind of uneven - some bites tasted like normal dressing, others tasted like "pumpkin pie on lettuce" to use Sandy's description. Sometimes it even was sharply discordant with the natural greeny bite of the kale and other leafy greens. It's odd, and I probably would have been happier without it, but that'd be disservicing you all.

As for the rest of the salad, it was pretty solid. Good, crisp greens, with some broccoli and carrot slaw for a crunch much like the aforementioned quinoa salad. There weren't quite enough raisins, seeds or chopped dates for my liking, as those added some texture, variety and sweetness, but I didn't feel cheated either. As for those pumpkin cornbread croutons - good enough I'd probably buy just a straight box of them for a snack. They tasted just like a good cornbread, with a little smooch of pumpkin pie taste - I can buy into that. Absolute highlight of the salad right there, though they do get soggy and spongy if you save any for leftovers.

Overall, it seems like a good deal for the $4.49. It's big enough for a dinner salad for two hungry folks, or if used as a side (like we did with some pulled pork using my favorite barbeque sauce), expect leftovers. I'd probably get it again but pitch the dressing - if I'm going to drizzle something on my otherwise perfectly good dinner, I don't want to be indecisive about it. Same with Sandy, who said it could really use some other type of dressing, but other than that, the salad was great. She could only muster about a 2.5 when taking the whole package into consideration. Hrmmm...salad without dressing would be about a 4, with it was about a 2 for me...so let's call it a 3.

Trader Joe's Harvest Blend: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Wild King Salmon Jerky

At about 46:20 of Let's Talk TJ's! Podcast Episode 6, there's a fairly entertaining discourse about the Wild Salmon Jerky Russ reviewed last year. Near the end of that conversation, I volunteered to be the What's Good at Trader Joe's guinea pig for "Salmon Jerky version 2.0." I try to be a man of my word, so yesterday morning I shelled out the $5.49 for the small three ounce bag and "took one for the team," all in the name of intrepid food blogging. 

This uncommon jerky is a new product that no longer uses chum salmon as the primary ingredient, but instead employs the use of regal, fresh, Alaskan king salmon. Some have speculated that chum salmon was also sometimes referred to as "dog salmon" because Alaskan native peoples would only feed it to their sled dogs. Others claim the nickname came from the fish's canine-esque mandibles and many teeth. Either way, it's a fact that chum salmon are commercially undesirable, and so king salmon are a big step in the right direction. And best of all, they're still "wild," or "free range," like the salmon in those fictional breakfast muffins.

But still, this product is amazingly fishy. I mean, it's almost completely made of fish, so I don't know exactly what I was expecting. I guess I was thinking that the jerkifying process would make it significantly less fishy. But no. Still quite fishy. And to add to the fishiness, you can actually see where the scales were on the salmon chunks (see pic). So yeah. Fishy.

Good thing I like fish. My dogs do, too. No matter where in the house I opened this package of salmon jerky, the dogs smelled it immediately and were at my heels, begging for scraps. I mean, sure, they do that for everything, but they seemed especially enthused about this product—probably because of the fairly pungent fishy smell. I'm pretty sure if they were going to score this product, it would get 10 stars. But unfortunately, the humans in the house weren't quite as wowed.

However, I must admit the quality of the "meat" itself is pretty good. There's a nice smoky, spicy, sweet flavor to it. And it does taste like salmon—certainly not the best salmon I've ever had, but not the worst salmon I've ever had either. The texture is pretty close to traditional jerky, although this salmon stuff has a tendency to flake off in little angular chunks, similar to the way a normal fish fillet would. It's also more oily than any other jerky I've had lately. You'll pine for moist towelettes after handling it.

Even if you're a huge fan of the taste and texture, it's a little on the pricey side. I can't see this ever becoming a regular purchase in our house. It's not terrible, though. I'm just glad I'm not the one who tried the version with chum in it. 3 stars from me. Sonia was initially overwhelmed by the fishy smell, but got over it quickly. She gives this product 3.5 stars, and insists that it tastes somewhat like bacon. I'm not sure where she's getting that from. Silly Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Josephsbrau Plznr

Ah, Princeton, NJ. Once known as an Ivy League town, prided on top-notch schooling and producing some of the nation's elite scholars, engineers, educators, and financiers, has become known to my wife and I as a fun place to go geocaching, and more importantly, Trader Joe's Beverage Central—as it is apparently known to quite a few here in the Mid-Atlantic region, including the Pittsburgh-based Shellys (who don't actually drive 5 1/2 hours JUST to buy Trader Joe's brand alcoholic beverages—they apparently have family in the area). I understand those liberal New Yorkers have quite a few options when it comes to Trader Joe's brand libations, but those of us in South Jersey, Delaware, and the Quaker State have one heck of a time procuring the stuff. It's a little over an hour's drive for us, so we only go when we have other reasons to be in the area. But recently, business took us to Tiger territory...and we found a fascinating brew or two.

And so, it's time for a beer review. In 685 posts on this blog, this is only the fourth post dedicated to actual alcoholic beer, and the first featuring Trader Joe's Josephsbrau label. Five years back, Sonia and I took a look at TJ's Corona Light knockoff and found it to be a pretty decent imitation of the original. On that particular shopping excursion, there had been no full-calorie Corona-esque beers available, and their selection (at least at that location in Los Angeles) was vastly inferior to the selection we find currently at suds-friendly TJ's locations here on the East Coast. And fortunately for me, as my taste in beers has migrated from mass-produced lagers to more interesting craft brews over the last five years, so, apparently, has Trader Joe's selection moved in the same direction.

I'm far from a beer expert, but I know enough about pilsners and beer in general to know that, despite the claims made on the can itself, Miller Lite is NOT a "fine pilsner beer." Just like a brew Russ reviewed many moons ago, pilsners are originally from the Bohemia region of the Czech Republic. As I learned on Wikipedia, they were made with soft water, pale malts, noble hops, and bottom-fermenting yeasts. 

Similar to other pilsners I've had, this beer poured a light straw-ish color with a fairly small head of foam. With an average alcohol content (5.4% ABV) the flavor was bready more than malty and there was a sharp bitterness to it. It left a slightly bitter aftertaste, too. It was well-carbonated, but not overly so. If you've been reading this blog a while, you know I LOVE fizzy beverages.

Another interesting note about this product is the peculiar spelling of "pilsner." There are plenty of other acceptable ways to spell the word, but this is the first I've seen "PLZNR." TraderJoes.com claims it's simply because the beer is unique, but I'm wondering if, similar to the band "Chvrches," it has to do with search engine optimization? Both the band and the beer are "not bad" in my humble opinion, but I'd say the unique spellings are strokes of marketing genius. Sonia agrees about the beer, but no so much about the weird spellings.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears

You'll never see me purchase a jar of pickles, even with the recent debut of Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears. It's not me - it's the family. Sandy refuses to touch, let alone attempt to consume, anything like a pickle, or even anything that's even touched a pickle - this had led to some interesting dinner time dill-emmas and dissections when out at a restaurant. Best case scenario: I get an extra pickle! Worst case: Waitstaff eye rolls abound. As for our toddler, Lil Ms. M.? Well, in her words: "I wicked a pick-kull once but I didn't wike it." That's a true story, I wish I would have captured that grimace for all of time. Baby B, who's started eating some table food, has tried a pickle and seemed to like it; then again, she somehow got a hold of a lemon slice and loved it, so I think she's still honing her palate. I mean, she also likes rocks, for goodness sake.

So, I'm grateful for my brother and sister-in-law, and their kiddos, all of them pickle aficionados, for dropping the $2.39 at TJ's for a jarful right before we came over for a Labor Day grill out. That way I got to try them without plopping down the cash, knowing it'd probably ultimately go to waste since I'm the only one in the household who would touch them.

Alright, so anyways....yeah, a jar of pickles isn't as flashy or eye-catching as, say, bags of pickley popcorn that all of you seem to love. I mean, there's not all that much one can do to a pickle to make it stand out all that much, is there? That's probably right, but...these do seem a little different than most I'm used to. There's a little added sweetness that must be from the cucumbers themselves - it's not overpowering, or even completely obvious, but to me, it's there. Most cucumber bases for pickles either taste like a pretty straightforward cuke - kinda bland in a wholesome way - or get over-saltied or vinegaried. Not these. The dill and garlic are also there as a good accompaniment but aren't all that dominant, either. Instead, these pickles just taste good and fresh, with a crunchy, firm bite. Eat right from the jar or snuggle up in a bun with a  hot dog, these guys are good to go.

That being said....There's a particularly perplexing pickley problem here, especially if you're a serving size stickler. Look at it: A serving is 3/4th's of a spear. What!?!?!?! The only reasonable explanation is the sodium - if my math isn't too fuzzy, if 3/4ths a spear is 12% of suggested sodium intake, a full spear is 16%, and just maybe that number would scare off too many potential suitors. I call shenanigans on that. Look: No one's going to lop off a little middling pickle stub. You're going to eat one, if not more. And pickle people know what they're into when it comes to pickles and sodium - there's a lot of it. We deal with it. Don't jerry-rig the serving size to make them appear to be not as salty as they are. It strikes me as dishonest.

Aside from that, no real complaints here. It's as good a jarred pickle as any out there, unless you're one of those silly ones who prefer bread-and-butter pickles (ick) or whatnot. The consensus of the pickle choir around the picnic table, young and old, was that these were a worthwhile pick-up, maybe not quite as good as fresh made deli pickles, but for a shelf-stable-til-opened jar, pretty good. I'll take some liberties in score guesstimating, but I'm probably not too far off base.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Podcast Episode 7: Shopping Strategies and Our TJ's Staples

In this episode we share how we shop at Trader Joe’s and what products we regularly buy. Listen to us on Stitcher.

RSS: letstalktjs.libsyn.com/rss

Download: MP3 (23.1 MB)

Opening Music: www.bensound.com

Show notes: www.letstalktjs.com/7-2/

Trader Joe's Burrata, Prosciutto & Arugula Flatbread

In theory, a guy like me should like hockey. Preseason is only a couple weeks away, I should be stoked like all the other XY-chromosomed humanoids (and half the XX ones too, at least around here in the 'burgh). Yet....I'm not. I've tried to like hockey, and in fact I like the theory of it. I've been to a couple Penguins in person, and no sport translates better to the in-person experience than hockey (worst, by far: football). But when it comes to actually truly liking and embracing hockey....I just can't. I'm not sure what it is, and maybe I'm just missing out on something that everyone else is picking up on, but it just doesn't do it for me.

It's kinda the same with Trader Joe's Burrata, Prosciutto & Arugula Flatbread. In theory, this should be a no doubt winner, a hat trick, a biscuit in the basket. As our local hockey announcer would say, get in the fast lane, grandma, this bingo game's ready to roll.  But in the end.....meh.

Let's start with the positives. This is one exceptional flat thin crust for the pizza base. It's light and airy, yet crispy and crackery, with a little added bite. I could eat crust like this all day then wonder what happened to my waistline. And the arugula makes a nice little touch, too - I like leafy greens as much if not more than anyone (my coworkers stare in disbelief at the amount of raw, undressed spinach I eat almost every day for an afternoon snack) and there's plenty enough to go around to add a good little touch of greenery in most every bite.

This leaves the prosciutto and the burrata and other assorted cheeses. Anything cured meat related is usually right up my alley, but this meat just doesn't cut it. It comes packaged separately in some frozen thin sheets (think Steak-Umm style) which thaw out on your counter as the pizza bakes, waiting to be torn up and placed on top when ready to serve. That method works, but any prosciutto flavor just doesn't really come through except a thin trace of saltiness. I'll blame the cheese(s) - according to the ingredients list (which I'll link to, my pictures came out awful), there's six here: burrata, mozzarella, mascarpone, pecorino romano, parmigiano reggiano, and fontal. It sounds like a nice and fancy blend - I'd butcher half the names - but the outcome just isn't that great. It just tastes kinda flat, without too much flavor except a little olive-oily and salt, with some faint garlic, and more or less feels spongy on most bites. Once again, perhaps my tongue isn't sophisticated enough to enjoy the complexities of a fine cheese meld like the stuff on here, but, once again, meh.

But I guess I'd understand people liking this a lot. Like Sandy, for instance. The fact this was a fairly acceptable white pizza-esque consumable good was a big plus for her- no tomato sauce! Not like that dissuades her from enjoying regular pizza, but, anyways. The arugula and crispy crust were also a hit with her, enough to make this a desired repeat buy for the $4.99 it cost, though she'll admit there wasn't much memorable about the cheese mix except how fancy it sounded. Sandy went ahead and gave it a four. That's just too high for me - not enough flavor to really compel me, and when the absolute highlight of a pizza is the crust, I think it says more about the pizza as a whole than the crust. I just can't muster much more than a perfectly middlin' 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Burrata, Prosciutto & Arugula Flatbread: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Organic Sriracha Ranch Dressing

Roosters, Dragons, BBQ Sauce, Jerky, Potato Chips, Wontons...

The sriracha craze is still going strong, and I'm still learning new things about the mysterious Thai hot sauce. Like...you don't pronounce the first "r" in "sriracha" (Thanks, Marvo!) and that there's a heated East Coast/West Coast debate about whether to always capitalize the "s" at the beginning of the word or not. Since I'm blogging from the East Coast, I'll go ahead and follow the example set for me by The New York Times and not capitalize it in this review. Not that anyone cares or that it at all matters.

What does matter is that this dressing rocks. Finally, good old 'Murican ranch dressing has found its true calling in the form of a sriracha derivative. And I don't even like traditional ranch all that much.

But I do like sriracha...in fact, I LOVE sriracha. "Well, why don't you marry it?" you ask..? Because our country isn't that progressive yet. And as a political moderate, I only support civil unions between man and food.

Plus, I'm already married. Sonia might get jealous. In spite of that, I do have a pet nickname for this salad dressing. I call it "Srirancha." See what I did there? And like Russ, I'll be demanding royalties if that word ever winds up on the label of a future sriracha ranch product.

It's spicy more than it's ranchy or creamy, taste-wise. Although the texture is nice and smooth, like a good quality, traditional, non-sriracha ranch. It was actually hot enough that Sonia had to slow down from time to time and let her mouth recover. I didn't think it was quite that hot—it was just about perfect for me. It had a nice strong kick, but it wasn't overwhelming. It went great with those Portobello Mushroom Fries and even made them quite pleasing to my anti-mushroom palate. It's absolutely perfect with carrots and other dippable veggies, and it even goes great on...you guessed it! Salads!

Sonia loves this product almost as much as I do. It's one of the best dressings I've had in a long time. It's organic, delicious, and reasonably-priced at $2.99. We're gonna go with double 4.5's on this one. Sriracha + ranch = scrump dilly.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Green Dragon Hot Sauce

The 1972 martial arts classic Return of the Dragon used to be in heavy rotation in my DVD player back in college whenever me and the roomies needed a "brews and Bruce" night. I mean, the climactic fight scene between Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris? Invest nine minutes of your life and watch it here. The cacophony of joint crackage, the random cat, the chest hair grab....not to mention plenty of roundhouse kicks and a couple masters going at it in their prime, even if scripted. Great stuff, I love it.

Admittedly, high level martial arts flicks have little to nothing to do with Trader Joe's Green Dragon Hot Sauce, but I thought of the movie title when I first saw this sauce for sale. "Return of the Dragon." We've seen this particular scaly scary hombre before, not too long ago - namely, on TJ's branded sriracha, which I recommended calling dragon sauce - hey, I think some royalties are due here, Big Joe.

Regardless, I thought that this green glop wouldn't be that unlike a salsa verde or the Hatch Valley Salsa, except in saucier form. That's a mistake, as there's a little bit more going on here, despite some similarities. The first ingredient with any real substance to this dragon drool is pureed jalapeños and the last is habaneros, so there's some seriously spicy bookends. The habaneros don't come thru too strongly, though, which is appreciated, but they're still there, even if just slightly. But it's not just heat and nothing else. There's plenty of roasted sweetness from tomatillos with some added flavor depth from lime juice and garlic to add a bite, and cilantro to add a herby twist. All of these flavors seem present and proportionately balanced for a strong but not overbearing spicy sauce with some character to it. There's also "spinach powder" in there....I guess that's present for greenery insurance. Or maybe they're just trying to sneak us some extra veggies. Who knows.

It's all a pretty smooth consistency too, all things considered - not too watery, and certainly not chunky. The sauce definitely pours more than plops, making it ideal to use in most anyway one can enjoy a hot sauce - I've used over various meats, in sandwiches, on eggs, in tacos and so on. I've yet to find something that didn't mesh well with the flavor profile - even with the spiciness (which I'd rate as moderate) and other flavors present, none seem to completely overpower whatever I'm putting it on. Good sauce.

Both Sandy and I seem to be pouring it over any meal we can the past week or so. My mother-in-law who's been staying with us the past few weeks just kind of looks on in amazement. Eh well. The dragon sauce might not be for everyone, but I think it'll be a staple for us going forward because of its tastiness and versatility. Like that Lee-Norris fight scene, this sauce just might be pretty tough to beat.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Green Dragon Hot Sauce: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Portobello Mushroom Fries

There are occasions when I feel like I should role play on this blog—times when I can't fully appreciate a product, regardless of its popularity or nutritional value or uniqueness, yet I feel like scoring it based solely on my own personal hang-ups would be doing it a grand injustice. Sometimes I want to write a review from someone else's perspective. This is one of those times. 

I think I've mentioned it on the blog once or twice before, but I have very strange reactions when eating mushrooms (and not just the "magic" kind—in fact, I've never had those...to the best of my knowledge, anyway). After consuming a food-grade mushroom, my stomach instantly feels like it's on fire, and my heart beats harder and faster than usual. Coincidentally, Sonia has similar reactions to certain varieties of mushrooms, particularly button mushrooms. But apparently, portobello does not produce any reaction for Sonia—which is good for the sake of this review, and good for Sonia, because unlike me, she really enjoys the taste of most mushrooms, despite her unusual response to certain species. And both of us do, on occasion, simply bite the bullet and eat mushrooms—even the kinds that we're sensitive to, and we just suck it up and deal with the palpitations. Such was the case for me in this instance. All that to say, I feel like shafting this product just because I can't fully enjoy it would be doing a disservice to the vast majority of our readers.

I was already starting to notice a buzz about these portobello mushroom fries on Facebook and Twitter, when I received a fascinating email from a reader who pointed out that there are some things that truly make this product unique and progressive in the world of packaged, frozen foods. These mushrooms are harvested, battered, cooked, and frozen over the course of just a few hours—not the usual formula for pre-packaged, fried foods. In that reader's own words, these mushroom fries "could be the start of a trend to reverse our walk toward the edge of the industrial food cliff." He thinks success with these mushroom fries will bring "hope that more (foods) will be brought to us in this most life-sustaining manner." Thanks for your unique insight, James, and thanks for the heads up on this product. Click here to check out more of James's thoughts on this product and others.

When we removed the fries from the oven, some of them were quite crispy, and some not so much. The crispier fries were much better than the others, both in texture, and in my opinion, in taste as well. So I'd say err on the side of "burned" unless you like your mushroom fries juicy and moist, but like most anything you heat in the oven, there's a magic sweet spot in between "soggy" and "burned to a crisp." I think we had ours in for the full 15 minutes but maybe wouldn't have minded another minute or two in the heat.

I did appreciate their taste—at least more than most mushroom products I've tried. They have that subtle, earthy, almost nutty flavor that good quality mushrooms tend to flaunt. The batter was nice, too, though Sonia wishes there were more of it. It's a thin layer of wheat batter with a hint of garlic and pepper—so thin, in fact, that in many spots, it doesn't completely coat the mushroom. But I guess that's helpful if you're trying to keep your carb intake to a minimum. We served them with Trader Joe's Sriracha Ranch and also tried them with marinara sauce. We both agree the Sriracha Ranch worked best, although the hot sriracha flavor dominated the subtle taste of the mushroom fries.

Sonia gives this a four. Despite my aversion to mushrooms, if I were to score it, I'd probably give it a 3 or 3.5 or so for virtue of it being the best mushroom product I've ever tried. But instead, I'll score this product according to the chorus of fans it's already gathered on social media, Sonia's co-workers, and people like readers James and Janice, and I'll go with a 4.5 on their behalf.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Jaipur Vegetables

Here's an item that's been in our cupboard for months and months and we might have forgotten about it, but last time we were at TJ's, they were handing it out at the sample counter. We liked it, so Sonia and I reminded ourselves to heat up the package we already had at home. And boy am I glad we did.

It's really tasty. It reminds me of the filling in the Balti Pies we looked at not too long ago, though not quite as fattening and calorific. Obviously, there's no crust or chicken here, either. The curry is nearly identical to the Balti curry, though maybe a tad bit spicier. There are big chunks of peas, carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes. Plus, there's paneer cheese and cashews—two ingredients TJ's is no stranger to. They all blend together nicely flavor-wise, but I'd definitely say the taste of the curry is the dominant flavor here. And that's just fine with me, because it tastes great.

All of the other ingredients create a nice hearty texture. It's not just a homogeneous mush. There's plenty of each constituent part to keep it interesting. I wasn't particularly thrilled with the cashews, since they were slightly soggy. If they had found some magical way to keep them crunchy, then this already delicious product would have been even better. I suppose they could have separated the cashews into a separate pouch that you could open and pour into the mixture at the end, but that's just me being uber-picky.

And that brings me to my next point: the preparation of this product is insanely easy. You either drop the bag into some boiling water on your stove top for five minutes, or you snip the bag and nuke the contents for a minute or two. I heated mine in the microwave and poured it over rice, and bang! Instant meal. I don't recall exactly what the price is on this one since it's been so long since we purchased it, but if it's anything like the other Indian Fare products, it's probably in the ballpark of $2, which is a really good deal for what you're getting. No complaints here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.