For some reason, during high school and college in particular, I was very much in that "breakfast all day" mode. A big plate full of carbs seemed appropriate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I'd supplement with fruits, veggies, and meats here and there, but by and large, I was in the mood for pancakes, waffles, cookies, toast, granola, and Pop-Tarts constantly.
It might have something to do with my metabolism changing, but lately I've generally been feeling the opposite. Like, I'm rarely in the mood for breakfast foods, even at breakfast time—so I just eat lunch and dinner type fare for my morning meal.
This morning, however, I wanted breakfast for breakfast, and I remembered we had some Trader Joe's Organic Silver Dollar Pancakes in the freezer. I'm not sure what I can attribute the unusual-for-me craving to, but it might have something to do with the changing seasons and the weather going from utterly frigid even up until April to downright summery and hot right now at the end of May. We barely had spring.
Anyway, the pancakes went from frozen to ready-to-eat in 65 seconds. That's pretty freaking convenient. I mean, they're not as good as ones you'd make from scratch and cook in a pan, obviously, but considering the significant difference in effort between the two methods, these tiny silver dollar sized dealies aren't bad to have on hand for mornings when you're pressed for time.
Of course, there's a heating option that involves the oven or a toaster oven. I'll see if Sonia wants to go that route when she wakes up. Otherwise, you can tell us in the comments if you've made these that way and how they turned out.
They're pretty plain until you slap some butter and syrup on them. But most pancakes are like that, unless of course you've got fruit in them or chocolate chips or something like that. I'd buy again for the convenience factor alone.
$3.29 for about 30 mini pancakes. Kosher. Organic. Not a bad value, either. Trader Joe's Organic Silver Dollar Pancakes are nothing to write home about in the flavor department, but they're a nifty product to have in the freezer in case you need to ready up a breakfast spread in a matter of minutes. Three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me.
Bottom line: 7 out of 10.
Fruity wine coolers have always struck me as an unsophisticated alternative to craft beer or actual wine. I in no way advocate underage drinking or taking advantage of inebriated young ladies, but wine coolers just kinda seemed like a cheap way for a guy to get his high school girlfriend drunk enough to get to second or third base after the homecoming dance, and very little more than that. Know what I mean?
So I grabbed this product thinking something along the lines of "This stuff must be awful. Might make an entertaining review making fun of it."
But even just reading the spiel about it on traderjoes.com and refamiliarizing myself with this very blog's review of Simpler Wines Rosé makes me think my initial assumptions were pretty far off base. It's not a low-brow wine cooler. It's "mango-infused Italian vino frizzante." Shoot. Sounds downright fancy when you put it like that.
I mean, mango wine seems like a bit of a gamble in any context, but if anybody can pull it off it's Trader Joe's and whatever Italian wine exporters they're working with. That's right. This wine is actually from Italy.
I poured my Mango Simpler Wine into a stemless white wine glass—obviously an unnecessary step, since these beverages are optimized for drinking straight out of the can. But I thought it would be nice for folks to see the color and maybe even some bubbles just for reference.
So...it's fizzy. In general, I love carbonated beverages. From water to wine, sodas and soft drinks, I'm just a bubbly kinda guy. Great effervescence level here.
Flavor-wise, it's fruity and lightly syrupy. Definitely sweet enough to be a dessert wine in my book. Tastes like mango enough. There's a bit of a harsh alcohol taste at the finish that's a little odd, and there's a whisper of an aftertaste that I'm not a huge fan of...but all in all, it's not bad. Sonia likes it more than I do. She's a girl. This drink is a bit girly. No judgement if you're a dude that likes it...or a chick that doesn't like it. Just sayin'.
$4.99 for the four pack, though I understand that varies from state to state. 8% ABV. Three stars from me for Simpler Wines Mango. Sonia will go with four and a half.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.
Insert immature "mother dukkah" pun here. Or don't, you know, in case that sort of thing is beneath you. I get it. Not everybody is a forty-something man-child that still appreciates middle school toilet humor.
Ahem. I heard about this stuff a long time ago but never tried it until now. It's apparently a Middle Eastern condiment made with spices, nuts, and seeds. This particular variety has tiny almond bits and sesame seeds as the main ingredients.
There are two other types of seeds in the mix, but everything is pretty well pulverized into teeny tiny specks, rather than big crunchy bites. I mean, obviously sesame seeds are very small to begin with, but I don't think I've ever seen a whole fennel seed or anise seed, so I couldn't tell you what they look like normally.
Trader Joe's Dukkah basically looks like gravel, but it tastes pretty good. As you'd expect, it's seedy and nutty, but the spices bring a lot of flavor to the table as well. There's something almost licorice-esque about the taste. I guess that's the fennel. Or could be the anise. I guess they both vaguely taste like licorice, but spicier and with a whisper of something minty.
It's a complex taste that works well with olive oil. The little round container says to dip "crusty bread" in olive oil and then dip it in the dukkah. I tried it with plain pita chips and it made them significantly more interesting. I also tried coating some pan fried chicken breast with the dukkah. Not bad. Like breaded chicken, but with more flavor and texture. We'll try with salmon next.
$3.29 for the small cylinder. Would buy again, although there's just a tad too much licorice flavor to make it something I'd reach for on a daily basis. Four stars from the beautiful wifey. Put me down for three and a half for Trader Joe's Dukkah.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.
To my surprise, there were at least three or four different varieties of meatballs in the frozen section at Trader Joe's during my last run. It's been a hot minute since we've reviewed any kind of meatballs on this blog, so I thought: what the heck?
I chose this bag for two reasons: these are all beef meatballs, unlike the others which all contained pork. And it's brought to you by none other than our old Italian friend Trader Giotto. Buongiorno, Signor Giotto! Why they don't call you Trader Giuseppe, I'll never know. But whatevs.
I got lazy and opted for the microwave heating instructions. Ready in four minutes from frozen? Yes, please.
The texture was still quite pleasant after being nuked for a spell—not unlike fresh-made meatloaf. It was just a smidge chewier than your average melt-in-your-mouth hamburger, but still very pleasant.
The spice blend wafted out from our magical radiation machine as the meat reheated, and it made our kitchen smell like an Italian restaurant. I tried the large meatballs just by themselves, no fixings. Delicious. They tasted just like they smelled: rich, meaty, and full of peppers, garlic, onion, and parsley. I'd have happily eaten four or five meatballs by themselves for an easy protein-rich lunch.
But in the end, we heated up some pasta and marinara sauce and topped the whole thing with parmesan cheese. Perfetto!
I'm far from a meatball connoisseur, but I've gotta give Trader Giotto's Italian Style Meatballs a fairly enthusiastic thumbs up. About five bucks for a dozen full-size meatballs. Four and a half stars from me. Sonia will go with four.
Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.
Dangit. Thought I would make it two weeks without reviewing more cookies. I've mentioned recently that our cookie review count is in the ballpark of 100 just on this blog alone. And that's no exaggeration. We've literally done about a hundred reviews of Trader Joe's brand cookies here. And I don't mean "literally" in the way the youngsters use it: like "OMG when he said that, I LITERALLY died!" I mean it like the way it's supposed to be used.
Why is it always cookies? Why can't Trader Joe's make more donuts? I think we've reviewed about four types of donuts over the course of nearly thirteen years. They could call them Joenuts. That's way more clever than "Joe-Joe's."
Anyhow, I'm sick of cookies, and I'm not a huge fan of molasses, so naturally, I picked up a box of 12 Trader Joe's Molasses Cookies on my last Trader Joe's run. Why? Because I was hoping they tasted more like brown sugar than molasses. Fortunately for me, they do.
Trader Joe's Brown Sugar Cookies are soft and chewy enough, not crispy. They do have a faint molasses flavor underneath the brown sugar, and there's a nice blend of throat-warming spices like cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. They're nearly gingerbread-esque, but if you put the word "gingerbread" on a product outside the month of December, Santa's elves will slap you with a hefty Christmas infringement fine.
Sonia liked these, predictably, a little more than I did, but we both agree they're good. Maybe even a little better than we expected. Four stars from the beautiful wifey. Three from yours truly for Trader Joe's Molasses Cookies.
Bottom line: 7 out of 10.
If you're one of those hamburger and French fries for every single meal kind of folks, I think you're gonna wanna sit this one out. Nothing wrong with hamburgers and fries. Nothing at all. It's a classic American meal. I like burgers as much as the next guy.
But variety is the spice of life, as they say. Also, spice is the spice of life. In this case, it's "togarashi style seasoning." Well, that sounds very Japanese. A quick glance at Wikipedia confirmed that suspicion. I'm excited now. Let's break open this very bright yellow bag, shall we?
It's not just seaweed snacks. It's seaweed snacks coated with tempura and spice-ified with Japanese pepper. There are little bubbles in portions of the tempura batter that almost look like tiny octopus suckers. And the seaweed itself looks like fish skin. If you wanted a kid to eat this for some reason, you could tell him it's dried meat from a sea monster and he might believe you.
Although it is fairly spicy. Not sure if young kids would tolerate the spice level here. It's like maybe a 6 on a scale of 1-10. Perfect for my taste. I might have even tolerated a notch or two beyond what's here, but the heat builds up on your tongue the more and more you eat. Trader Joe's Spicy Tempura Seaweed Snack might pair nicely with an ice cold Sapporo or Asahi. Man, I haven't had either one of those in a long time. But I sure do wish I had one right now.
The main weaknesses of this product versus traditional seaweed snacks are: the price. You can get a couple dozen seaweed sheets for half the price of this product. And regular seaweed snacks are pliable enough that you can wrap them or roll them up with other foods inside them. These are too brittle to be used that way.
$3.29 for the two serving bag. Product of Thailand. I just got this a couple weeks ago and I see no evidence that it's still being sold at TJ's. Anybody have any inside intel? I'd consider buying again, especially if I had a particular craving...and a Japanese beer to go along with it. Three and a half stars from me for Trader Joe's Spicy Tempura Seaweed Snack. Four from Sonia.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.
I freaking love garlic. I've sung its praises on this blog numerous times in the past. I mean, I'm not a huge fan of what it does to one's breath, although if you and your partner both have it at the same meal, it's never quite as offensive as when only one of you has partaken of the potent plant's pungency.
It's delicious raw or cooked, in sauces, salsas, dips, chips—you name it, it works. I know they even have garlic ice cream. I think I'll pass on that, though.
You'd think I'd have heard of black garlic a long time ago, but its existence has only recently come to my attention. The easiest way to describe the flavor is with the following analogy:
black garlic : plain garlic :: caramelized onions : raw onions
Black garlic is to plain raw garlic as caramelized onions are to raw onions. Yes. It says right on the shaker it has a "caramelized-like flavor." It might sound a little awkward to put it like that, but it's not wrong. Trader Joe's Black Garlic is actually a little sweet. It's a rich, dark, earthy sweetness, but it's definitely kinda sweet.
Texture-wise, it's like large grains of salt. It makes food just a little crunchy and gritty, but in a good way. I added it to a bagel with plain cream cheese, and black garlic made every aspect of it better. I even tried it on hamburgers, and it worked better than I'd expected. I imagine you could use it on just about anything salty or savory.
$2.99 for about one net ounce of the condiment. Kosher. I'd buy it again. It has rice hull as an "anticaking agent" in the ingredients, but you still might find the grains are stuck together. Just break them apart with a fork before shaking.
Four and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me on Trader Joe's Ground Fermented Black Garlic.
Bottom line: 9 out of 10.
How cute. Cheesecake slices for dolls. I mean, I'm a dude, so you know...cheesecake slices for action figures. When we were kids, we'd take our G.I. Joe toys and set them up with my friends' sisters' Barbie dolls. They'd fraternize, eat tiny cheesecakes together, and then they'd get a little amorous, you know? Things might have gotten a little frisky between the Joes and the Barbies. But then Sergeant Slaughter would realize his pants were fused onto his legs, so things never really got out of hand.
Anyhow, tiny cheesecake slices. They're "truffles" that are "cheesecake-inspired." I've always been a big fan of cheesecake. Truffles? They're kinda hit or miss. I don't generally gravitate towards them. But cheesecake-inspired truffles are worth a whirl, I figure.
And yes, the morsels in Trader Joe's Cheesecake-Inspired Truffles Collection are awesome. They do indeed taste like cheesecake. Texture-wise, they're close to real cheesecake. It's like cheesecake but not as dense. They feel like whipped cream cheese on the inside. The outside is like your typical candy shell or thin layer of chocolate.
I LOVED the two fruit flavors: lemon and raspberry. Sonia agrees about raspberry but not lemon. I have no idea why. I almost felt personally insulted when she mentioned she wasn't as big a fan of the lemon flavor. They're both super tart and super sweet. I guess there's more tartness in the lemon flavor—a bit too much for Sonia, apparently.
She loved both of the non-fruit flavors. I liked them okay, especially the vanilla one. The caramel one was my least favorite, and even it's nothing to complain about. I think the salted caramel flavor just overshadowed the cheesecakiness to some degree.
If they made a box with four different fruit cheesecake flavors, it would be a shoo-in for this blog's Pantheon. They should keep lemon and raspberry. I'd also add orange cream, cherry, strawberry, and/or blueberry.
$4.99 for eight miniature cheesecakelets. Would buy again. Perfect as a gift or to substitute any occasion you might buy one of those boxes of chocolates with mystery truffles. Eat your heart out, Forrest Gump. I give Trader Joe's Cheesecake-Inspired Truffles Collection four stars. Sonia does too.
Bottom line: 8 out of 10.
A long time ago, I had a colony of Sea-Monkeys that lived for at least 5 years, spanning from my tweens until well into my high school years. It got to the point where they could survive on the algae naturally growing in their little aquarium. Generation after generation spawned and lived out their uneventful lives right there on our kitchen counter. Once a month or so, my dad or I would check on them. "Yep, they're still alive," we'd announce, despite their water getting murkier and murkier with each passing season.
Sonia was recently lamenting the fact that she had been deprived of Sea-Monkeys as a child, so we got some of the novelty pets off Amazon and hatched them about a month ago. We had to laugh at the ridiculous art work on the packaging that anthropomorphizes the brine shrimp and depicts them as a typical human family but with tails and weird spikes on their heads.
In a similar fashion, my overactive imagination can't help but picture probiotics as little people-like creatures swimming around in my guts every time I partake of yogurts, dietary supplements, or in this case, a beverage with "live cultures" or "probiotic" microorganisms.
I figure they have parties and play games with each other down in my belly. It's a bit disturbing when I think about it too much, but everything I've read insists that they're good for me. So...bottoms up!
Trader Joe's Tangerine Probiotic Sparkling Beverage not only provides a hundred billion little Sea-Monkey-esque people to swim around inside your tummy and promote gut health, but it doesn't taste half bad, either. It's a very refreshing, light, fruity flavor. It's sweet, but not too sweet; tart, but not too tart.
The carbonation level is perfect. It's actually surprisingly bubbly. I feel like it's a tad more fizzy than most of Trader Joe's sparkling juice beverages. Maybe it's just the probiotic critters splashing around having a good time. I dunno.
$1.99 for the 12 oz can. I would absolutely buy this again for the refreshing taste and carbonation alone, and any health benefits that might come with it are just a bonus in my book. There's a ginger version, too. I'm going to have to try it now. Four stars from Sonia. Four and a half stars from me on Trader Joe's Tangerine Probiotic Sparkling Beverage.
Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.
Give us this day our daily bread.
Notice it doesn't say "give us this day our daily fish" or anything like that. And you know the Bible's all about fish, fishing, and fisherman analogies. But not here. It says "give us our daily bread."
But you know what? I think if I had absolutely nothing but bread to eat on an average day, I'd be perfectly okay with it—particularly if the bread was as tasty as Trader Joe's Butter Croissants. I'm sure that's not the type of bread he had in mind when Jesus taught us how to pray, but hey, we can always ask for something special even if we don't get it all the time.
I'd ask for bagels one day, brioche toast the next, then buttermilk biscuits, ciabatta bread, pita, naan, and finally croissants: a different gourmet baked good for every day of the week.
And while Trader Joe's Butter Croissants might not beat out something freshly made from a Parisian bakery, they'd be pretty high up on my list for what to order on croissant day. We had ours with butter and strawberry jelly, as seen in the pic above. Delicious.
We also made croissant sandwiches with egg, cheese, and Trader Joe's Bomba Sauce. Ahhh-mazing. The croissants are indeed buttery to the core. They're flaky, soft, and surprisingly fresh (if consumed before the "best by" date.)
You probably won't have much trouble eating three of them in short order, although Sonia wishes they did have a resealable package just in case you can't eat all of them right away. Our family is just the two of us, but a larger household shouldn't have any problems in that department.
$3.49 for three large croissants. We would buy these again. Four stars a piece from Sonia and me for Trader Joe's Butter Croissants.
Bottom line: 8 out of 10.
Trader Joe's is really running with this ube thing. Weird, right? Purple yams. Apparently they've been popular in Filipino food since time immemorial. TJ's has done ice cream, pancakes, tea cookies, pretzels, and spread so far. Why not make ube-flavored sandwich cookies?
Well, I can think of one reason: nobody is asking for them.
Ahem, but nevertheless, Trader Joe's will go ahead and give it the old college try and roll out a surprisingly tasty cookie, even if perhaps a bit odd. Let's open our little rectangular box and get reviewing.
What's working in Trader Joe's Ube Joe-Joe's:
1) they used vanilla cookies. Chocolate or coffee or ube or anything else simply wouldn't have worked. Vanilla is neutral enough to let the yammy flavors through.
2) The coating. The "yogurt candy" on the outside of the cookies creates an air-tight-ish seal and prevents the cookie parts from getting stale so quickly. It's also sweet, creamy, and yamtastic.
3) The filling. More violet root vegetable action here. Again, sweet. Again, creamy. Again, yammy as heck.
What's not working: I DON'T WANT ANY MORE SANDWICH COOKIES FROM YOU, TRADER JOE. Stop making sandwich cookies. Stop making cookies, period. Stop making new flavors of Joe-Joe's. Just stop it. Stop trying to make me fat with your organic junk food. Heck, is this even organic??
I'm warning you. One of these days, I'm going to give your cookies a bad review. Just you wait.
$3.49 for the sleeve of eight cookies. Perfectly delicious cookies that I would NOT buy again because I don't need any more dang cookies. Seriously. And even if I wanted to buy them again, they'll be discontinued in favor of Trader Joe's Pawpaw Durian Jabuticaba Joe-Joe's or some other such nonsense. Bloody heaven.
Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me for Trader Joe's Ube Joe-Joe's Vanilla Flavored Sandwich Cookies with Ube Creme in an Ube and Yogurt Candy Coating.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.
Our modern western society has had it so easy for so long, I feel like we need to be aware of our roots a little more. It's just so easy to eat something like a McNugget and not even pause to reflect that what you're consuming came from a living creature. Folks like Sonia's grandparents eat chicken just like we do, but she's actually seen them grab the feathery animal from the coop, place it on its side, and chop its head clean off its body with a hatchet. I don't think I'd eat chicken as often if I had to do that each time I had a hankerin'.
Likewise, can you imagine if we humans were farmed and consumed by an advanced alien race? Wouldn't it be the worst if you gave your life so Kodos and Kang could have a gourmet meal and they decided that your meat was too stringy or chewy, and they cast your corpse aside in favor of some other human with a more savory texture?
Your spirit would be floating there in the ether, looking down at the ungrateful extraterrestrials. "Hey, I died for this meal! The least you could do is show a bit of gratitude!"
In that same way, it seems such a shame when I'm eating an animal and I have to complain about the taste or texture. Trader Joe's Grilled Chili Lime Chicken Strips certainly weren't awful, but neither the taste nor the texture were on point like we were hoping they would be.
The preferred heating method for this product is the microwave. The microwave always yields chewy chicken, and this product was no exception. We tried heating some in the skillet, but it was chewy that way, too. It wasn't stringy or rubbery or gristly per se—it was just a little stiffer than we were hoping it would be.
Flavor-wise, I mean, there was some heat, which was nice. But it wasn't a flavorful heat. It almost felt like we were eating a chicken molé dish, but the peanut butter and/or chocolate was replaced with water. There was nothing rich or particularly savory or piquant or memorable about the meat. It was just plain chicken in a light vinegar sauce with hints of chili and salt. The lime juice wasn't even detectable.
On the plus side, it was low fat, low calorie, and high protein. So...there's that.
$6.99 for four servings of Trader Joe's Grilled Chili Lime Chicken Strips. Probably wouldn't buy again. Three out of five stars a piece from Sonia and me. And thanks to that chicken that died for our sustenance. We appreciate you.
Bottom line: 6 out of 10.
Peanut butter makes everything better. Jam and bread is just fine by itself as a side item on a breakfast spread. Add peanut butter to it, make a sandwich, and you've got a whole meal. A banana and yogurt smoothie is great. Add peanut butter, and you've got a hearty, nutritious shake that can serve as a meal substitute.
It makes delicious salsa even better. It makes caramel popcorn even better. It makes chocolate pretzels better. And yes, it makes Crownies...er, Brookies even better.
It's just a peanut butter cookie smooshed onto a brownie. It's not fresh-baked or homemade or worthy of too many accolades, but it's a pretty tasty treat if you ask me. Peanut butter and chocolate always work together. Cookies and brownies together aren't bad.
Both the cookie element and brownie element are pleasantly soft and chewy. There's a fairly decent balance of flavors, too. There are actual pieces of peanut in the cookie part and chocolate chips in the brownie. Sonia and I both prefer Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Brookie to the original, but then, we both like peanut butter quite a bit.
$4.49 for 8 kosher cookie-brownie squares. It's a half ounce less in weight than its predecessor. Not sure if that's shrinkflation or if peanut butter cookies are a little lighter than chocolate chip cookies.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.
