Trader Joe's Distinqt Tequila Reposado and Trader Joe's Margarita Mixer

Since Sonia and I moved out of California and crossed the country, we haven't been able to get our hands on any alcoholic beverages from Trader Joe's...until now! To celebrate finally selling our old condo, we decided to check out the Princeton, NJ Trader Joe's, which surprisingly has an extensive selection of not only Three Buck Chuck, miscellaneous wines, and Trader José beers, but also Trader Joe's brand hard liquor! It's a bit of a trek from our new home—right across the river from Wilmington, Delaware—but we had to go up there for business anyway. We were completely overwhelmed with choices. But since it's still warm-ish and still September, the month of Mexican Independence, we decided that margaritas wouldn't be out of the question.

We were hoping to find some TJ's brand mezcal, a liquor native to Sonia's parents' home state of Oaxaca, Mexico. It's a smokey-tasting alcoholic drink made from a plant in the agave family. However, we selected another fine Mexican beverage: tequila! It wasn't cheap: $22 for the bottle. But tequila isn't something you can "go discount" on even if you wanted to. I'm no expert when it comes to hard liquor, but I couldn't tell the difference between Trader Joe's Distinqt and any other major brand I've ever tried, like José Cuervo or Sauza, which are all in the same ballpark price-wise.

Tequila's always a little harsh as a shot, but it mixed together beautifully with the margarita concoction. The best thing about the mix was the absence of high fructose corn syrup and weird artificial stuff, unlike a lot of other major brands. And unlike the tequila, the margarita mixer was very affordable at $2.49. We added a little salt on the rims of our glasses, poured both liquids on the rocks, and stirred. We skipped the triple sec this time around. It was delicious!

As with most margarita mixers, the sweetness of it offset the bitterness of the tequila. Along with the salt, it made for a wild rollercoaster of a ride for our taste buds. It's been over a year since my last visit to Margaritaville—and this will undoubtedly be my last until next summer at least, so I enjoyed it while it lasted. Since I lack the expertise to critically score a tequila, I'll go with a positive, yet not-overly-exuberant score of 4 stars. Sonia will match that. I think the margarita mixer deserves a little more since it meets the taste and quality standards of the other brands I've had, but does so with better ingredients. 4.5 from me. Sonia gives it 3.5, stating that it's a little too sweet for her tastes, and that it burns her throat slightly. (I think it was the tequila burning her throat.) 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Distinqt Tequila: 8 out of 10 stars. 
Bottom line: Trader Joe's Margarita Mixer: 8 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer

It's been several months now, since Sandy's sudden evolutionary epiphany, that we've bought any cow milk for ourselves. Our dairyfree beverage of choice has been almond milk, though I'll admit, about the only one of us who really drinks it is our toddler, who drinks cupful by insistent cupful every day. Sandy will have some from time to time, especially if it's some flavored variety, but aside from the occasional inclusion in a smoothie, since I've given up cereal on my Paleo quest, I rarely if ever have any. Coffee creamer, though, has been the exception - well, not for me, I've gotten used to enjoying my coffee in the manner consistent with the infamous Airplane line - but we've just been buying regular half-and-half all along, and haven't thought much about it.

Until now. Here it is, an answer to dairyfree coffee creamin' dreamin': Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer. Unlike some other coconut milk creations TJ offers*, this seems, to my (limited) knowledge to also pass the Paleo test. No dairy. No soy. No gluten. Just some water, coconut, sugar *ahem* "dried cane syrup", and some chemical stuff which I don't know what they really do but I suppose it's important and hopefully not caveman-adverse.

And it works too. There is a definite yet slight coconut taste to it that does come through, so you have to plan a little bit for that, especially if you're planning to enjoy a flavored coffee. Sandy and I made a pretty vibrant "symphony" coffee (light and dark) over the weekend, and while I personally felt that the creamer dulled the flavor a little, the coconut still made a decent flavor accompaniment. Perhaps that "flavor dulling" is more due to it being the first coffee with creamer I've had in weeks, not sure. Generally, it seems like it'd work fine with regular roasts, but if your coffee has a taste that wouldn't mingle with coconut, then I'd say definitely avoid. The creamer won't get your coffee quite as tannish-brown as the regular moo juice will, but it gets the job done pretty well.  Sandy, who enjoys her sugar and creamer with coffee and not the other way around, had absolutely no complaints.

For a $1.49 for the pint, I'd imagine this being a regular pick up going forward. While I've now gotten to the point where I'm much more partial to black coffee than I'd ever thought I'd be, TJ's coco-creamer is still a nice little product option for anyone looking to avoid some dairy for whatever reason, or even just for a nice change of pace from the same ol' same ol'. I'll dabble from time to time. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Original Coconut Creamer: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* Stupid maltodextrin AKA processed corn sugar junk.

Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets

It's been an even more interesting than usual past couple of weeks come dinner time in here, at the Western PA homefront of the WGaTJ's crew. In one corner, there's me, trying to stick true as best as possible to that pesky Paleo diet, making only occasional concessions for you, our readers. Great results so far - haven't weighed as little as I do now since the Bush administration, and by that I probably mean not the W one. Still got some work to do, though. In the other is my wife Sandy, nearing 8 months pregnant, after a long day of wrangling other people's kids at her preschool before tackling our own sweet little toddler for a couple hours while trying to make dinner while waiting for me to get home from work. Is she entitled to be hungry for whatever and that just has to be okay with me? No question, absolutely. But do I want to keep watching what I eat to keep on track? No doubt. Add in tiredness from work, lack of willingness from either of us to make two separate dinners, and pressure to maintain the appearance that we know what we're doing and not psychos less we equally confuse and confound our aforementioned two year old and  teenaged foreign exchange student we're hosting, and, well, it's been a delicate dance at times. At least neither of us is losing.

How do Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets fit in? Not in my caveman diet - oh, that pesky breadedness with all those yummy, crunchy, metabolism-killin' carbs. But, they're a good example of the compromise we've brokered - I eat Paleo for breakfast and lunch (not too hard during the week) and at dinner, we make reasonably healthy choices (these were a "one of those nights" bagged dinner nights) and I watch my portion sizes. Dropped a couple more pounds this week, so it doesn't seem to hurt too bad.

Besides being a symbol of peace thankfully made of chicken, not doves, these nuggets are pretty darned tasty too. That is, if you can call them nuggets - they're more like huge chunks of white chicken. Seriously, I'd say almost half the mega-nuggies we got were several bites each, and huge. Even better, it was actual chicken too, not the stuff that Snopes swears doesn't compose your McNuggets (jury's out if you ask me). I kinda liked how the bag proudly proclaims that the chicken contains up to 15% of a solution, implying that being 85% problematic is fine. Sorry, lame joke. As a small nod towards my 'lithic-classed leanings, the breading is also gluten free, relying instead on cornmeal and the like. While that still DQs this from any stone-aged supper, the cornmeal does add a pretty nice crunch, and a certain almost homemade flair. None of the seasonings particularly stand out, but instead keep themselves balanced nicely that make this chicken ideal for chunky-dunking into a dip of your choice, such as some barbeque sauce.

Overal, I gotta say, both the wife and I are fairly pleased. There's something a little fishy about them, though, which I can't quite figure out. Somehow, when eating these, I thought I was tasting something a little seafood-y. It's nothing unpleasant - I won't call fowl play on it - but I still couldn't quite shake that thought. Maybe it was the salt (trying to cut down that, too), I don't know.

Regardless, we liked 'em.  The birdy bits were a reasonable price ($5 for the sack) and will probably be a repeat purchase soon. Matching fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Breaded Chicken Breast Nuggets: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Rio Red Grapefruit Juice

Ah, the amazing grapefruit. It's not exactly season-appropriate, but there weren't any new pumpkin products on the shelves during our last TJ's run. Just as well. October is definitely the best month for a pumpkin blitz. That is, if we can find something pumpkin-flavored that we haven't reviewed yet.

At any rate, it's still fairly warm here in South Jersey these first few days of fall. So a spring/summer beverage isn't too far off the mark. Some might say grapefruit and its derivative juices are year-round treats. I certainly wouldn't argue with that, either. 

I grew up eating grapefruit halves at breakfast time. I'd put Sweet'n Low or Equal on it and spoon out the sections one by one. **Please note: I am not advocating the use of artificial sweeteners. My parents had them on hand and told me to use them. I was a just little kid and didn't have a say in the matter.** Then at the end, I'd pick up the grapefruit, hold it over a glass, and squeeze it as hard as I could. Actually up until the age of seven or eight, I'd have my dad do it for me. It was a kind of coming-of-age when I finally developed the upper body strength to match my father's grapefruit-squeezing skills. And man, there was only about a quarter cup of liquid that came out of the mostly-consumed grapefruit, but that juice was always amazing, despite a trace amount of artificial sweetener. Now, as an adult, I don't eat fresh grapefruit as often as I used to, but I still do the same thing when I finish half a grapefruit—and the juice is just as amazing as I remember it. Fresh-squeezed is always the best. Since then, every glass of bottled grapefruit juice I've ever consumed has had to stand up next to that pristine quarter cup of heaven that I'd produce myself at the end of my breakfast—and pretty much every glass of bottled grapefruit juice has been found wanting.

And while I want to say that's the case with this beverage, it's really like comparing apples and oranges. Or grapes and grapefruits, if you will, because the number one juice ingredient here is white grape juice. This is a grapefruit-flavored juice blend, not unlike Ocean Spray's famous Ruby Red. In fact, Ruby Red uses white grape juice to sweeten their cocktail as well, but it plays second fiddle to the red grapefruit. In TJ's mix, there is apparently more white grape juice. If you try really, really hard you can taste the white grape, but by and large, all the extra white grape juice does is make the blend slightly sweeter, and in my opinion, perhaps a tad less tart. That's the best way to describe this juice: like Ocean Spray's Ruby Red Grapefruit Juice, but leaning toward sweet rather than tart. And that, in my book, makes a pretty decent, refreshing juice drink. I give this beverage 4 stars. Sonia gives it 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning

It's a little less expensive than I thought to fly from Pittsburgh to Johannesburg, South Africa: starts around $1400, with a couple layovers (in Toronto and Munich), and takes about 24 hours. It's not a trip I'm planning seriously for any time soon (or quite possibly, ever) but if/when I'd ever go, man, someone invite me to a braai, please. Don't know what that is? I didn't until I saw it mentioned on the bag of Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning and looked it up. Basically, it's a South African style cookout/social gathering centered around lots and lots of meat. There's sosatie and boerewors (two new words for me!) along with chicken, seafood, whatever else...that's my kinda thing right there.

Well, apparently these TJ's chips got invited to the party, but to me, the jury's out on whether they really, truly belong or not. There's nothing really wrong with the chips - good, munchy texture, very crispy, almost worth the diet cheat points for that - and, although salty, I like the seasoning mix - lots of different stuff, primarily featuring smoky paprika and garlic - but there's something lost in translation here, I think. In the end, these South African-inspired chippies taste closer to a run-of-the mill straightforward barbeque chip to me, which is kinda boring and not the exotic kick I was looking for.

 I'm wagering this is not the fault of the spice blend itelf, but because it's on a chip, not a big ol'l chunk of carne. There's no real base for the flavor to blast off from. I've been too busy with some other spices and rubs at TJ's, but I *think* I've seen a South African seasoning blend on the shelf there which, if it's anything like this, would be a terrific pickup to rub on some chicken or fish or sausage or anything that can get all juicy on a grill. Instead, here, we're left with these light little dry crisps without much pop or sizzle. I think a little meaty gristle here could go a long, long ways - there's just not enough here for the seasonings to be able to really, fully express themselves. However, if we were to stay in the chip realm, another chip type may fare better - these are dressed up "Ode to Classic Potato Chip" hombres. A ridged or kettle chip would be a firmer base, with perhaps a little more oomph.

I'm not the only one not tooting my vuvuzela about these chips.Sandy's not too much of an ardent enthusiast either. "Ehhh...nothing too special," she stated with a dismissive tune. "I'll eat them but really, they pretty much taste like barbeque chips." Granted, it'd be a pretty darn good BBQ chip, and the price at $2.29 (at least locally) is a perfectly reasonable buy, but we both can't help but be a little bit disappointed here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cowgirl Bark

I had a hankerin' for some vittles, so I saddled up old Legacy and rode on over to the general store. While'n I perused their stock for something tasty, I came a across this here pink bag of Cowgirl Bark—my left eyebrow lifted up like one o' them there hot air balloons. I'd only ever heard of such a thing once before, in the classic western writings of a Mister Russell Shelly—a legend 'bout a man by the name of Cowboy Joe—a man so ruggedly adventuresome that the mud scraped off his boots made an unusual snack for regular folk like you and me. And while some say it ain't such tasty eatin', others say Cowboy Joe's mud is the stuff of dreams—more still say he's a lost man; a man with good intentions, yet a drifter with a broken compass. I had to find out if his cowgirl counterpart was just as unhinged, or if the bark from her boots were something just a little more special.

I sauntered over to the clerk, an impish young lass by the name of Josephine—Trader Jo, they called her—and placed my wares on the counter. She eyed me coolly. "You know they sell Cowboy Bark," she quipped. I stood there for a moment, eyeing her in return, taken slightly aback by the affront to my masculinity. "I've heard of it," I said. We stared each other down like gunslingers at high noon. She picked up the bag. "You like white chocolate?" she asked. Now, it's well-documented in these here electronic logs that I'm a huge fan of white chocolate. "It's for my wife," I lied. At least on most occasions, the little missus prefers dark chocolate to white. As Trader Jo shot me a look of disbelief, I went ahead and conceded "But I'll probably eat half the bag...and yeah, I do like white chocolate," as if the confession would offset my untruth. And with that, I quick-drew my wallet out of its holster, clicked the plastic action down through the reader, punched the green button, and laid that transaction down in no time flat. I snugged the card back in its sleeve as Jo handed me a receipt.

Impressed by my skills with the plastic, she waved me aside from the checkout, sat me down on a barstool, and took off one of her boots. It was covered in white mud, with a conglomeration of brown and red clay caked below her spurs. It was her. She was Cowgirl Jo. "Me 'n Cowboy Joe used to ride together," she said. "We'd rustle almondolopes as a team." She could tell I was impressed. "We both set out for the Big Rock Candy Mountains together, but...well, we both got a little lost along the way."  She continued, "I was with 'im through Pretzel Prairie, all the way past Peanut Pond..." she trailed off and got a little teary-eyed.

"And then?" I asked.

"And then, I—I just had to follow my own heart. We went our separate ways when he went up Joe-Joe's Mountain. I continued south through the Ginger Hills, and eventually I came upon a field of Cranberry Cattle. I wrangled them up and returned 'em to Rice Ranch." As she recounted each leg of her journey, she showed me the corresponding ingredient in her "bark." Triple ginger cookies, dried cranberries, and Rice Krispy-like grains were all tasty ingredients, but...where was she headed with all this?

"Finally, I wound up on the Great White Flats of Chocolate," she said. "I have sweet, sweet memories of that place." Glancing round her store at that point, she noted that it had filled up with locals and dudes, so she excused herself and sent me packin'. 

My encounter with Cowgirl Jo resonated with me for hours as Legacy and I lugged our goods back home to the missus—who surprisingly enjoyed the Cowgirl Bark more than I did! Sweet as Cowgirl Jo was, I still think she's just a-wanderin'...out there driftin' in the wilderness, just a bit lost like a tuft of tumbleweed. But if'n you like white chocolate—and ONLY if'n you like it a lot—then I say this Cowgirl Bark is worth a whirl. I give it three Sheriff Stars. The missus gives it four.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Strawberry Chia 100% Juice Smoothie

A few months ago, I was whining and pining for my long lost Jamba Juice after being unimpressed and underwhelmed by a $5 juice product from TJ's. Looks like they've stopped stocking that pressed juice at our local store, at least for the time being. I certainly wouldn't miss it if it disappeared forever. But I'll be danged, believe it or not, this strawberry chia stuff is a product I can get behind. It's thick, sweet, tasty, filling, and each bottle has way more omega 3 alpha-linolenic acid than I ever knew I needed. $2.99 a bottle won't break the bank, either.

With 48% of your daily fiber and 340 calories per bottle, this is a beverage that "eats like a meal." I can make this work for lunch all by itself. Some of you weight watchers might be horrified by the calorie count and the presence of 8g of fat, but look at it this way: wouldn't you rather be taking in calories from good sources like fruit and chia seeds than most other snacks? 

There are exactly three ingredients in this drink: apple juice, strawberry puree, and chia seeds. None of those things are going to show up on my gut the way 340 calories worth of bad carbs would.

I'm certainly no nutrition expert, but circa 7 years ago, I was 25 pounds leaner because I had a smoothie every night for dinner. In truth, the bottle claims to have two full servings in it, but I just don't see it that way. By drinking the whole thing, I feel very full, and I honestly don't want to eat anything else for quite a while. By drinking half of it, I feel like I need a bit more food in my body, and the little devil sitting over my left shoulder whispers something along the lines of "Go ahead, you've already had your fruit today. Have a slice of pizza or a donut," and sucker that I am, I fall for it every time.

But anyway, in summary, this just might be the smoothie that I've been looking for. Strawberry is the dominant flavor, and it's pleasantly sweet. The puree and the seeds blend seamlessly, texutre-wise. And a nice little blend of vitamins and protein make this a must-try for smoothie-enthusiasts and health nuts. I'm torn between an 8 and a 9, so I'll go with 8.5 stars.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips

So these are like dorians, right?

Apparently, I don't know jackfruit.

Fortunately, this website seems to know the difference, and if you're really all that interested, take a read, this post will still be here when you come back. Good to know I'm not the only one who didn't know until my more botanically aware spouse shot me the stinkeye. They're pretty similar in appearance, and I remember holding a durian at a 99 Ranch out in California once - heavy, spiky sucker, looked to be more of a projectile load for a trebuchet than something that was actually somewhat edible. So while durians and jackfruits are not the same, it's the image I'll hold in my mind, and if it's not completely accurate, then blame my blissful 'merican ignorance.

As for these actual Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips....mehhhh. I've had a couple handfuls of them by now, and can't quite make up my mind. Sandy's in the same boat. They're just kinda there and otherwise not horrible but not all that great either. It's not the texture's fault - think dehydrated apples but not quite as sticky-dry with a little more girth and fluffier Styrofoam aspect, and it's about like that. It's not bad for a dried fruit snack (though dried banana chips are still my all time fave). Crispy and crunchy are adequate enough adjectives, not much more needs to be said there.

Really, it's more the taste. Or the lack thereof. Depends on who you ask. Sandy insists the chips taste like nothing. I don't think that's entirely true - there's a subtly sweet flavor, kinda lightly citrus-y and banana-y, which is fine enough until it morphs into some sort of bittersweet funk that grabs hold of the back of your tongue like a toddler in need of consolation. It just won't let go...it's there and it's there to stay, no matter what you do. Seriously, I ate one ten minutes ago, and I can still taste it swimming around in my saliva. Not a fan.

Yet there's something about these fruity chips that I feel like I should like - perhaps because they're fruit so they make a healthy snack and are a possible replacement for chips and Cheetos and the like. Could be true. But still, I'd much prefer just eating a regular ol' apple for a crispy crunchy snack on the go, and if I have the luxury of some cashew butter around to spread on a slice, even better. These just don't cut it for me.

Sandy debated her score a long time before settling on a two, standing by her "they taste like nothing" claims. A two sounds more than fair to me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Crunchy Jackfruit Chips: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Spiced Chai

Not to be confused with Trader Joe's Spicy Chai Latte Mix, this beverage is full of black tea and chai spices, and it's every bit as tasty as its previously-reviewed cousins. As soon as hot water hits one of these teabags, there's a smell of fragrant spice in the air—similar to the scent of potpourri in one of those country stores that sells really expensive candles, wooden signs, and Boyds Bears run by mean, ultra-conservative old people that don't like Gen X'ers—but you go in anyway because you know you'll find the perfect Christmas gift for Mom there. That's how it smells. Like that...but a little more exotic.

It tastes like that, too. Just by itself, there's enough complexity and richness to keep your taste buds occupied. Even I, with my child-like sweet tooth, was able to stomach this stuff plain. Add sugar and half and half for a dessertier indulgence. Don't tell me "dessertier" isn't a word. It rolls off my keyboard more easily than "more dessert-like," and it's more appropriate here for some reason. The flavor tingles the tongue, but it doesn't burn the throat at all the way some chai has done to me in the past.

There's a good bit of caffeine in one cuppa this magical tea. I can't give you the exact milligrammage, but according to Chai-Direct.com, it has about 40mg per 4oz. I swear this stuff woke me up better than a regular cuppa coffee, but maybe that's because I drank more than 4oz each time I had it. I like the monkeys and elephants on the box. I'm buzzed with caffeine. Sometimes that gives me little ADD fits and I find it hard to focus.

Sonia loves this chai. And she's a self-proclaimed chai fanatic. She even tried the Oprah Chai, but she likes this stuff much better. This chai even tops her previous favorite, Tazo. She gives it four and a half stars. I guess I'll give it four.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie

Yeah, yeah...I know. Just a post or two ago, I was talking about the success I've had following a paleo diet over the past few weeks, and now, here it is, at long last due to popular demand, a review of Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie. I'm willing to bet our bigger foreheaded forefathers had some sort of prehistoric lime-type fruit but not the means to make into one heckuva tasty pie, so I'm a bad pseudo-caveman. I'd grunt more vigorously and wave my club in self defense with a little more earnest, but it's not worth it. A little cheat, now and then, isn't the worst thing...especially when your nearly seven-months pregnant wife insists on picking up something...for your birthday...what are you going to say, no? I'm not. Diet's still working, thank you very much.

And the great thing is, diet cheat or not, this one heckuva great pie. My goodness. There's so much to like here. First and foremost, this pie resides in the frozen aisle, so it's one of TJ's thaw-and-eat delights. Other desserts in this category have been somewhat hit or miss for texture - a lot of times, even while following or even exceeding thaw specs, there's still that mouthfeel that screams "I WAS FROZEN AND I STILL KINDA AM!!!!" Not so here, oh no. After just an hour and half in the fridge, this pie transmorgified from rockhard icy discus to soft, delectable, inviting citrus pie delight, without any trace of freezer-y-ness. Absolutely perfect.

But that's not all. The lime filling struck an impeccably perfect balance between sugary sweetness and citric tartness, all in a soft creamy goodness. Irresistibly good - so satisfying and refreshing altogether. Perfect. And what this even more perfect was the crust - no, I'm serious. I would have been reasonably happy with a run-of-the-mill graham cracker shell and not given much more thought. Instead of that, TJ's went with a gingery crust - not nearly as strongly gingerish as, say, their Triple Ginger Snaps, but still with a good amount of ginger that was a perfect counterbalance to the rest of the pie. Which is kinda weird, there's no ginger on the ingredients list...eh, whatever, I'll stand by what I said.

How good was this? Sandy ate two slices. My brother and his wife (both of whom are fairly diet conscious) ate two slices. I ate two slices. Then we all kinda looked at each other, shrugged with a "That was worth it" expression, and then stared longingly at the empty tin foil plate.

I gotta go perfect five on this. Hands down, the key lime pie was the best TJ's product I've had in sometime - yeah, maybe it just seemed extra good because of all the other sweets I've been denying myself recently, but I think it was actually that good. Sandy semi-incredulously went with only a four, noting it needed some cool hwip to really top it off. Maybe that's technically true for some, but then, I'd say, go supply your own while I'm perfectly happy with it just as is. For one night, I was one happy caveman.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Key Lime Pie: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons