Trader Joe's Brookie

"What dessert should I get from the grocery store, honey? Chocolate chip cookies or brownies?" asked Sonia.

"Brownies," I replied. "No, chocolate chip cookies. No, brownies. Ah, darnit...If only someone would smash a chocolate chip cookie on top of a brownie and sell the resulting conglomeration as a single dessert treat, then I could die a happy man. They could call the concoction a 'Crownie,' since it's a brownie crowned with a cookie."

"Actually, they do sell that. But it's called a Brookie," she explained.

Then my head exploded.

As you may have guessed, this conversation never happened in our household, and as far as I know, it is entirely fictional. We chose this product out of a sense of obligation to review all new popular Trader Joe's brand items like we've been doing for a long time now and no other reason. Plus, we like excuses to eat junk food. Why they call it a Brookie and not a Crownie, I'll never know. Maybe the guy who invented it had a girlfriend named Brooke. That's sexist. Maybe the girl who invented it was actually named Brooke. Or had a daughter named Brooke. Or maybe they made the dough with water from a magical brook. Who knows? I, personally, like "Crownie" better. And I'm well aware that the concept of a Brookie pre-dates Trader Joe's iteration of the dessert. They could have distinguished themselves from the herd by changing the name up a bit and making it Trader Joe's Crownie (Brownie Crowned With Cookie = Crownie). But whatevs. At this rate, Trader Joe's will never make me head of their product development team because I "lack experience," I'm "arrogant," and I have "terrible ideas."

Nobody from TJ's ever actually told me those things, FYI. That's just my own personal assessment of the situation. Imagine me saying those things with big air quotes for comedic effect.

Now, getting down to business here, I must say I'm really not sure what all the fuss is about with this Brookie. It's an adequate dessert if you're craving a chocolate chip cookie or a brownie or both, I suppose. But beyond that, I don't think there's anything particularly magical going on here. Neither element was unusually flavorful or soft or fresh—though, conversely, neither was particularly stale or unpleasant either. They both just felt like typical grocery store fare to me—like a Ralph's or Giant or HEB bakery made some cookies and brownies and then crowned the brownies with the cookies and stuck them all in the same box. Not bad, not bad. But not earth-shattering, either.

I'm apparently the minority here, because Sonia loved them. She dunked hers in coffee and acted like she'd never had a brownie or cookie quite so delicious in her life. I just feel like I'm missing something now. If they were fresh out of the oven, I might feel differently. But as it stands, I say they're more or less run-of-the-mill brownies crowned with run-of-the-mill chocolate chip cookies.

In the past, we've seen outstanding brownies from Trader Joe's and outstanding chocolate chip cookies. If they could have combined those two incredible products into one, I might be singing a different tune, but as it is, these get three stars from me. Four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mushroom & Company Multipurpose Umami Seasoning Blend

First and foremost...Happy New Year everyone! Here's to hoping your 2019 will be full of enough golden spoons to make it pantheon worthy.

Second off...umami. It's a word that's always been a little full of mystery for me. It's a word to describe a taste along with salty, sweet, bitter or sour, all of which I feel I have a basic grasp.

But umami? Please. I had my suspicions that Google confirmed: it just means savory. That's all. It's goofy to me, using a word then immediately having to include a much easier to grasp definition. Why can't we just call it "savory" and skip the whole "umami" deal? Granted, it's more fun to say, and makes me feel a little sophisticated, but still. In the food description family, umami is the hoity-toity cousin that tries just a little too hard to stick out.

All this to say if anyone ever asks you what "umami" tastes like, for whatever reason, it wouldn't be a bad idea to pick up Trader Joe's Mushroom & Company Multipurpose Umami Seasoning Blend.

It's, well....savory. Duh. But there's quite a bit going on here too. There's a good salty bite, but also a little spice, a little heat, a little herby earthy type vibe...and comfort. It tastes like comfort. Like a warm broth washing over all the ills of the world. There's just something extra to it. Maybe somehow it's the mushroom powder, as I have no idea what it really does, but man, it's there. It's something to really kinda experience instead of being easily describable.

Except maybe in this regard: it tastes like what makes chicken soup good. Or a good gravy. Or some nicely roasted meat. Or...stuff like that. I can somehow only think of the seasoning through a carnivore lens, though I'm sure it'd work on veggies and potato soup and all that kinda stuff too.

My only complaint is it seems a lot has to be used to make the flavor really noticeable. We made some New Years pork roast that I had to shake a bit much of this on top to really release the umami tsunami. Eh well. No matter. More comfort, one shake at a time.

No real complaints. It'll be a pantry staple as long as TJ's can be bothered to carry it, which will hopefully be all of this year. That'd really make 2019 one to savor.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Mushroom & Company Multipurpose Umami Seasoning Blend: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Champagne Gummy Candies

Well, 2018, you've been an interesting year. You were certainly better to us than 2017, but that one wasn't hard to top at all. 

Sonia and I are loving life on the open road so far, and 2019 will be our first full year of nomadic living. Bring it on.

We found this fun bag of gimmicky gummies at a Trader Joe's in Austin, Texas. I don't think it ever would have occurred to me in a thousand years to turn champagne into gummy candy. But fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—somebody did.

Each candy is shaped like a champagne bottle. Imagine that. Sonia thinks they resemble...well, I won't tell you what she said about their suggestive shape on this family-friendly blog. Just suffice it to say that I had to tell her to get her mind out of the gutter. Although, well, she kinda has a point.

The flavors are very subtle. There's rosé and brut. I want to say I can detect the difference between the two, but I wouldn't want to put money on guessing which was which in a blind taste test. They're not overly sweet or sour or flavorful. I suppose champagne is supposed to have a "dry" taste and feel to it. These do too in a way, although the dryness of champagne doesn't really lend itself to gummy candy particularly well, in my opinion. And there is actual champagne in there—but all the alcohol is burned off in the manufacturing process. I'm guessing if you were inclined to pair a gummy candy with a glass of actual champagne for some reason, this would be the product to reach for.

Texture-wise, Sonia and I both found the candy to be somewhat leathery. The "best by" date on our bag is in 2020, so it's not like they should be stale. It's an odd mouthfeel. There's no melt-in-your-mouth quality here at all. They require a tad too much masticating, if you ask us. Sonia thinks they might even pose a choking hazard, since they're "slippery" as well as overly-chewy.

If you're too cheap to spring for an actual bottle of champagne, you could probably skate by with this $2 bag of clever candies as your contribution to the NYE party refreshments. As long as people are on their way to Happy Town, they likely won't even notice that these gummies aren't that good. Meh. They're not that bad, either, I guess.

Happy New Year!

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.