Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Bean Paste

For some crazy reason I was thinking this would be, you know, a paste. It's not. It's a syrup. In case you were wondering, yes, this is my first vanilla bean "paste" purchase. I realize Trader Joe's didn't invent this stuff. But a paste is somewhere in between solid and liquid. This is just a sticky fluid with bean bits in it. I dunno, man. That's my story and I'm sticking to it: vanilla bean paste is a syrup, not a paste. I'll die on that hill.

Not that it matters. It's still thick. It's still yummy. It's like vanilla extract but sweeter, thicker, tastier, and beanier—with way less alcohol flavor. Yes, it's much thicker than vanilla extract but not so thick that you'd call it a paste. But whatevs.

Apparently all vanilla bean "paste" is like this. It's very much on par with chocolate syrup in terms of thickness and sweetness, but with a distinctly vanilla aroma and essence. I guess it's kinda odd to review chocolate syrup and vanilla syrup in such a short span of time, but hey, what's done is done.

The best part about this product: the little vanilla bean specks. You can change regular boring vanilla ice cream to vanilla bean ice cream with just a teaspoon or two of this stuff. Or add it to smoothies, coffee, whipped cream, overnight oats, French toast, or cake mix. We did all of the above. Well, not the cake mix. Not yet. If there's any of this bottle still left in two months, I'll request a birthday cake with vanilla bean paste in the batter.

Five bucks for a tiny bottle of potent vanilla, complete with beanage. Comparable bottles from other brands apparently go for $20-$25. I like it. Sonia likes it. We would buy Trader Joe's Organic Vanilla Bean Paste again...even though it's clearly a thick syrup, not a paste.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peas & Carrots Sour Gummy Candies

This is, like, totally the worst way to get your vegetables. But hey, there is some spirulina in there for color. So maybe that counts, right?

I don't think these candies are very sour at all. The carrots have some of that "sour sugar" on the outside but are otherwise just normal sweet gummy candy. Sonia says the peas are sorta kinda approaching an acceptable level of sourness but not quite attaining it. They're the opposite of the carrots: their insides are sourer than their stiff outer shell.

Made of mainly glucose syrup and sugar, the texture of the candy is hard to describe. The carrots are softer than the peas. It's a mouthfeel similar to that of Sunkist Fruit Gems, slightly different than your run-of-the-mill Sour Patch Kids or Swedish Fish—firm but gelatinous at the same time. Sonia says they're more dense than your average gummy candy.

The peas have an almost plasticky outer layer. The outside part almost feels like one of those old school glossy gumballs. The insides are soft and slightly chewy, and they taste moderately tart I guess.

$1.29 per 3 oz bag. Bring back the Ts & Js, TJ's. Sonia and I both like the Sour Scandinavian Swimmers more than these. I'm not saying I wouldn't eat a few peas and carrots if I had low blood sugar and somebody tossed me a bag of these guys, but neither Sonia nor I would buy these again. Two and a half stars from me. Three stars from Sonia for Trader Joe's Peas & Carrots Sour Gummy Candies.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.