Trader Joe's Rolled Corn Tortilla Chips--Chili & Lime Flavored, revisited

When this Top-Ten-list product first came out last December, I had never even heard of the Takis that people immediately said it was ripping off. Yesterday I was at WalMart and happened to see a display of Takis. I knew that I already had a bag of the TJ's in my cupboard, so I could finally do a direct comparison taste test. And by happy coincidence, it was the day Nina was coming over for dinner, so she could join me in this important quest.

As you can see from the picture above, the Takis are much more brightly colored. This is probably due to their willingness to use artificial coloring, which Trader Joe's eschews as a blanket corporate policy. The TJ's version uses vegetable juice, paprika extract, turmeric extract, and beta carotene for color.

While I'm looking at the list of ingredients, I notice that Takis use palm oil, which you may wish to avoid in things you buy. (Says Scientific American, "Today palm oil production is the largest cause of deforestation in Indonesia and other equatorial countries with dwindling expanses of tropical rainforest. Indonesia’s endangered orangutan population, which depends upon the rainforest, has dwindled by as much as 50 percent in recent years.") Trader Joe's uses sunflower, safflower, and/or canola oil.

I paid $2.68 for the 9.9-ounce bag of Takis. Trader Joe's charges $2.49 for 9 ounces. That's a very slight edge to the former on cost.

My first impression after sampling a few of each was that they're very similar. Nina's was that they're quite different. We agreed that the Takis are hotter, but we both preferred the slightly toned-down TJ's. Nina thought the corn flavor of the TJ's was more natural and more prominent; I didn't pick up on that. I had to strain to detect lime in both products. The textures are virtually identical; I can't tell any difference in the crunch factor.

Verdict 

Nina and I both preferred the Trader Joe's overall. TJ's has made better choices on ingredients, and turning down the heat by a degree or two was an improvement on the original. But I'd be happy munching on either one. If you blindfolded me and fed me one when I didn't also have access to the other for an immediate comparison, I couldn't confidently tell you which I was eating.

When Trader Joe's comes out with a knockoff of a well-known name-brand product, it's hit-or-miss if they'll make it better. Sometimes they clearly do--e.g., the frosted toaster pastries are superior to Kellogg's Pop Tarts in every way. But TJ's Triscuit imitations are just as clearly inferior, whether comparing the original or the reduced-fat versions. I'm happy that these rolled-corn tortilla chips are in the former category.

Trader Joe's X-Tra X-Tra Sharp New York Cheddar Cheese--Revisited

When Nina and I reviewed this the first time (see here), I opined that it wasn't much different than, say, Cracker Barrel. Nina went further: "Meh. This is not at all 'extra extra-sharp.' Cracker Barrel's extra sharp is much sharper, and—if memory serves—more flavorful too."

Two readers challenged this assertion (see the comments on the original post). Ever since then, I've thought that we should eventually get around to doing a side-by-side taste test of TJ's and Cracker Barrel. We finally did.

My conclusion: TJ's is indeed a little bit sharper, but it's not better. In fact, I was surprised to discover that I had a strong preference for the Cracker Barrel Extra Sharp. I found it just generally more flavorful, more enjoyable, less one-note.


Will I buy it again? 

Now my answer has to change from "Sure" to "Probably not."

Nina's View

Cracker Barrel is sharper, not TJ's. But only by a smidge. What it is, however, is markedly more flavorful, with a nicer mouthfeel, and more nuance. I've always liked Cracker Barrel's extra sharp cheddar and I'm pleased that my sense-memory was absolutely spot on. I was able to identify which was which in a blind taste test, no problem. 

[Bob notes: That's true. I gave her chunks of each, same size and shape, and she confidently identified the CB within seconds.] 

Trader Joe's Social Snackers

If these crackers look familiar, it's probably because you've seen them before here:

Though the boxes and names are nothing alike, the crackers themselves are visually hard to distinguish. The Keebler Clubs are a little more browned on top, but other than than, external appearance is effectively identical, down to the size and the number of holes. Probably just a coincidence, right?

How about taste? To be honest, if I have on them anything with decent flavor of its own--cheese or some sort of spread, I have a hard time telling one from the other. When I taste them alone, however, they are really very distinct. Specifically, the Keeblers are saltier and have a much more pronounced butter flavor. I like both of those qualities, and thus prefer them to the Trader Joe's. But as a vehicle for toppings, either works just fine.


Will I buy it again? 

Probably once in a while--but if you look through the crackers label on this here blog, you'll find reviews of several TJ's crackers that I think are even better.

Trader Joe's Reduced Guilt Woven Wheats Wafers--revisited

As I mentioned in a previous post, I was interested in comparing these against brand-name Triscuits. So a couple of weeks after that post was written, I did just that. I bought another box of TJ's knockoff, plus one box each of original Triscuits and their reduced-fat version. When Nina was next over for dinner, our appetizer was some nice gruyere cheese with a few of each of the three crackers. There was no blinding; we knew exactly which crackers were which. But the results were so clear and definitive that I can't imagine that doing the taste-test blind would have made any difference. 

First, the TJ's crackers had the same stale taste that we had noticed in the first box, so I have to conclude that it wasn't a one-off problem. 

Second, the reduced-fat Triscuits were much tastier than TJ's, and the regular Triscuits were much better than the reduced-fat ones. Neither comparison was even close. 

Is the reduction in fat content worth the reduction in taste? Not to me. But you can look at the nutritional information and judge for yourself: 

Will I buy it again? 

No. The stale taste in two out of two boxes was enough to put me off of them. But the side-by-side comparison seals the deal. These are hugely inferior to the name-brand product. In my experience, that is not usually the case with TJ's products, but it is unquestionably so here. This second box is going back to the store for a refund, while I happily nom on both versions of Triscuit. 

Trader Joe's dried banana slices

We've been presenting a bunch of brand-new Trader Joe's products in recent days, and there are more to come after this brief pause. But I needed to move this post up in the queue for reasons that will become apparent tomorrow.



Trader Joe's now sells three different varieties of dried bananas. The one pictured at the top I reviewed here. The other two were new to me.

The first two--regular and organic--are very similar. I had to go back and forth between them a few times before I started homing in on the differences.

The regular is a little sweeter and has more banana flavor. However, looking at the ingredients lists, I conclude that that extra banana flavor is added in processing, not intrinsic to the underlying fruit. I sufficiently confirmed this suspicion to myself by discovering that I could basically lick it off. It's a coating which, after being removed, leaves the chips tasting pretty much like the organic ones, which lack that treatment.

So I should prefer the organic, right? The thing is, I don't. I like that little extra flavor and sweetness, even when I know that it's something they've either sprayed on or dipped the chips in. I also found the organic slices to be harder and tougher, more difficult to bite into. If you think you'd like super-crunchy dried banana slices, go for the organic version. But I don't like that quality.

So for both taste and texture, I prefer the non-organic variety. It has the added advantage of being cheaper.

As for the freeze-dried, well, that's a whole different animal. You really have to try them to appreciate how radically different they are from the other two items. There's zero oiliness, zero moisture. (The others have a bit of both.) They are dry like Death Valley. But as soon as you pop one into your mouth, it transforms.

Upon first trying them, Nina exclaimed, "They reconstitute in your mouth!" My experience is not that, exactly. Sometimes they do--but I found that with just a little pressure between the tongue and roof of the mouth, they don't so much reconstitute as disintegrate.

But either way, you definitely get a powerful burst of banana flavor unlocked basically all at once, in a fireworks-like burst. There's no chewing of these; they're fragile and they fall apart.

Do I like them? Yes and no. I find myself going back and forth. As I said, they release a more intense banana flavor than the others, hands down. But it's not quite the banana flavor I expect after a lifetime of eating bananas. This is probably because we're used to what is essentially a monoculture of commercially available bananas, with one varietal having been selected decades ago for American consumption, and all the others neglected. Trader Joe's says on the package that they're using an uncommon variety for the freeze-dried product, selected for its super-sweetness.

I also find the reconstitution/disintegration mouthfeel a little off-putting. It's just odd, and I haven't gotten used to it, even after eating nearly an entire bag of these things--all except for the few that Nina had. It limits how many I want to eat, whereas with the more conventional chips I'll munch happily until I'm full.

The freeze-dried ones are, then, for me both better and worse than the more conventional products. Unless you absolutely hate bananas, you should probably try them once, just for the novelty of the experience. But ultimately I think I would choose the plainest, cheapest of the three for my snacking.

And what I said about that product when I originally reviewed it remains true: None of them are as good as simply eating a banana (which TJ's will sell you, famously, for just 19 cents apiece).


Will I buy it again? 

The original, occasionally. The organic and freeze-dried, probably not.

Nina's View

The freeze-dried bananas are a freakin' revelation. As Bob has so thunder-stealingly revealed, I did describe this as reconstituting themselves in your mouth. It is a very surprising and, to my mind, quite awesome experience.

I will really never bother with the other dried bananas, because they are exceedingly meh—stale, overly sweet, mealy, and not very bananalike, like every other banana chip I've ever had. I like regular bananas. And with the freeze-dried chips you get regular bananas minus the water. All the flavor, none of the spoilage: great for on-the-go portability.

Give them a try.

Special report: Is Trader Joe's shells and cheese made by Annie's?

Nina and I thought that Trader Joe's Organic Shells and White Cheddar Macaroni and Cheese was the best boxed mac and cheese we had ever tried. In the review, I said that it was, among other things, "Better than Annie's." Some readers piped up in the comments to say that it is, in fact, made by Annie's, and is the same product.

I was skeptical at first, because the closest match in the extensive Annie's mac & cheese lineup that I found in my local supermarket did not look like an especially close match to the TJ's product, judging by the nutritional information. But then I looked at the Annie's web site, and discovered that I was not looking at the closest matching version. I was looking at this one, when I should have been looking at this one. I went to a different store (Earth Fare) and found it.

Thus prepared, Nina and I did a comparison taste test.

The contenders:

First we check the nutritional information:

The numbers are identical. The ingredients lists use slightly different wording, but I think they're describing the same items. Notice the oddity, however, that the two products use different organic-certifying organizations. That's peculiar, because if they're the same thing, made in the same factory and just put in different boxes, why would you use two different certifying agencies? Hmmm.

Cooking directions:

The saucepan directions are essentially the same, though TJ's adds a microwave method, and Annie's adds a suggestion for a variation made with yogurt.

I cooked up both as close to identically as I could (though I messed up a bit; I got in a hurry and didn't drain the TJ's shells quite as thoroughly as I should have, which made that one come out a little more watery). We put half of a serving of each on our plates: they looked identical. We tasted them. I thought they were completely indistinguishable (except for the water factor), even after going back and forth between them ten times or so.

The price comparison? Well, a few months ago when I made these purchases, I saved both receipts just so that I would be able to include that important information. And now I can't find the darn things. I'll try to remember to go back to both stores to look. Just on general principle, I'd wager that TJ's is about a dollar less.

Verdict: 

They're the same product.

Special report: Milanos versus Crispy Cookies--the jury verdict

Editor's note: You may have heard last week that Pepperidge Farm is suing Trader Joe's for trademark infringement. See here and here for details. 

Using our exclusive time machine, we here at Exploring Trader Joe's have traveled to the future to obtain a copy of the verdict form from the ensuing trial, with questions written by the judge and answered by the jury. We present it here in the public interest. 


Does the defendant's product name duplicate that of the plaintiff's product? 

No. They are not even both called "cookies." The only word in common is chocolate. We find that the word chocolate is not covered by the plaintiff's trademark.


Does the defendant's packaging duplicate that of the plaintiff's product? 

No. They are both sold in bags. So what? The bags are not made of the same material, and are only approximately of the same size. No reasonable consumer could mistake one for the other.


Is the defendant's use of a photograph of a fluted paper cup on its product's packaging meant to suggest "Pepperidge Farm cookies" to the average consumer? 

Yes, without question. We base this conclusion on (1) the fact that the Trader Joe's cookies are not even packaged with such a paper cup, so there can be no other purpose to showing one on the package, and (2) everybody knows that Pepperidge Farm's Milanos and other cookies are so packaged. Therefore, the Trader Joe's photograph, labeled as a "serving suggestion," means that Trader Joe's is telling its customers, in effect, "Buy our cookies. Then buy some Milanos. Throw away the Milanos, put the Crispy Cookies in the Milanos paper cup, and serve them that way."


Do the defendant's cookies physically resemble those made the plaintiff? 

No--or, more precisely, only in the broadest possible terms. They are both pale-colored cookies, longer in one dimension than the other, sandwiching a layer of chocolate. But that's about it. The plaintiff's claim that the defendant's product is "mimicking an overall oval shape" is absolutely refuted by the photographic evidence submitted by the defendant:

We the jury respectfully suggest that counsel for the plaintiff review a grade-school math textbook and re-acquaint themselves with the definitions of "oval" and "rectangle."

As the picture shows, the two products are also distinguished by differences in color, with the Milano being both more uniform and more yellow, while the Crispy Cookie is closer to white, with distinctly browned edges.

Furthermore, we note that even in profile the two products are readily distinguishable, as shown by the photograph we ourselves took during jury deliberations:

The chocolate layer in the defendant's product is so much thicker that anybody could tell them apart at a glance, from any angle of viewing.


Does the defendant's product duplicate the taste and texture of the plaintiff's product? 

Again, only vaguely. The Milano is more of a traditional shortbread, more floury than sweet, while the opposite is true of the Crispy Cookie. The latter is crunchy; the former more powdery and delicate. But what most readily separates them is the prominence of the chocolate. In the Trader Joe's cookie, it is thicker, richer, creamier, and generally more pronounced than in the Pepperidge Farm cookie. In other words, the chocolate is the selling point for TJ's; the cookie is the selling point for the PF.

We note, incidentally, that exactly one-half of the jurors expressed an overall preference for the defendant's product, and one-half for the plaintiff's. The difference split cleanly between those with a stronger versus weaker general liking for chocolate and sweetness, which are both more prominent in the Trader Joe's product. We conclude that this variety in preference proves that the two products are indeed substantially different, despite some superficial similarities.

With the indulgence of the court, the half of the jury that prefers the Trader Joe's product would like to put into the record a small gloat, by noting that the TJ's product is only $2.79 for 7.5 ounces of cookies, while the Pepperidge Farm product is $3.69 (according to the evidence presented at trial) for a measly 6 ounces of cookies. This half of the jury adds, respectfully, neener neener neener.


Did the defendant intentionally attempt to imitate the plaintiff's product? 

No, not as that question is worded. We believe that the defendant did, in fact, note the commercial success of the plaintiff's product, and set about to come up with one that would be comparable, but not identical; one that would appeal to consumers who had already found that they liked Milanos. However, in creating its cookie, Trader Joe's introduced sufficient elements of distinction in the name, packaging, appearance, texture, and taste to make it a substantially different product overall. No reasonable consumer could mistake one for the other, after having been exposed to both.


What is your final verdict? 

We unanimously find for the defendant.

Trader Joe's grapefruit juices

I was pleased and intrigued by how the grapefruit juice I tried in yesterday's post was so much better than any I had purchased in a grocery store before. I wanted to try it in a direct test against other products. 

I went to the juice aisle of a standard grocery store, and could find only one item--the Ocean Spray "Ruby Red" pictured above. (It is of no small significance that they don't even use the word "grapefruit" in the name of the product.) 

At TJ's, I found three, including the superb "Grapefruit Sunset" reviewed yesterday, which costs $4.99. 

Trader Joe's 100% Pure Florida Grapefruit Juice Ruby Red comes in a carton and is found in the refrigerated section. Its list of ingredients is one long: "Pure Florida ruby red grapefruit juice." Like Grapefruit Sunset, it is pasteurized and not from concentrate. It appears that the only differences between the two products is that this one is not organically sourced, and is derived from ruby red grapefruit, instead of pink grapefruit. It costs $3.69. 

Trader Joe's Rio Red Grapefruit is, like Grapefruit Sunset, in a 64-ounce plastic jug, found in the non-refrigerated juice section. But that is their only similarity. Sadly, it's like so many other TJ's juice blends, with a base of grape and apple juice, and just enough of what should be the main ingredient to allow you to get some vague sense of its presence. Specifically, white grape juice concentrate is the first ingredient (after water for reconstitution), followed by red grapefruit juice concentrate, lemon juice concentrate, then flavorings and colorings. It costs $3.49. 

The Ocean Spray product does a little better than that, with reconstituted grapefruit juice as its first ingredient, followed by reconstituted grape juice, reconstituted apple juice, grapefruit pulp, and colorings and flavorings. I didn't keep the receipt from that store, so I can't tell you its cost. 

When Nina was here for dinner, I set up a testing procedure that allowed us to taste them with neither of us knowing which juice was which, but the numbers were as shown above. Here are the notes that Nina jotted down, which combine both of our observations: 

1. Insipid, sweet but uninteresting. Concoction doesn't taste very grapefruity.
2. Ruby red grapefruit flavor. Not too acidic. Not fresh squeezed.
3. Barely identifiable, intermittent bitterness.
4. Grapefruit, but sharp and a little bitter. Acid. Tastes pasteurized. Canned? 

There was absolutely no question that we both liked them in this order: #2, #4, #1, #3. Perhaps more importantly, the gap in quality between #4 and #1 was far larger than the gaps between #2 and #4, or between #1 and #3. Put another way, we would both willingly buy #2 and #4, but would not want to bring home #1 or #3. 

#2, the Grapefruit Sunset, was head and shoulders above the others, but #4, the TJ's 100% Pure, was a decent second-best. Given its significantly lower cost, I might choose it more often than Sunset. 

Since the taste test, I've been drinking all of them in kind of random order, a few ounces at a time. Doing so has reinforced the initial impressions from the blind testing. I'm happy with both the Sunset and 100% Pure. I can stand the other two, but they don't make me feel like I'm drinking real juice, and the overall impression is one of true mediocrity. 

Will I buy it again? 

Yes to both of the real juices, no to both of the sad blends. 

Trader Joe's kettle-cooked potato chips

This is becoming an unplanned "new product" week on the blog. Trader Joe's has released a spate of interesting new items recently, and it's hard to keep up.

The first image above is a brand-new Trader Joe's product: Organic Potato Chips Kettle Style. (See here for TJ's own description.) It becomes the third kettle-cooked potato chip in the TJ's lineup. Nina and I have previously reviewed the Kettle Cooked Olive Oil Potato Chips, both of us finding them tasty but needing added salt. Finally, there's the Reduced Guilt Kettle Cooked Potato Chips, which is not a new item, but it's one we have not tried before. I figured that as long as we would be trying the new one, we might as well sample all three side by side and compare them. So we did.

I thought the new one was the standout. Big chips, flavorful, cooked just right, just the right saltiness, crunchy without being brittle. Outstanding in every way. I think they're the best potato chips TJ's sells, and among the very best I've ever had from any manufacturer.

TJ's web site carries this warning:

Organically grown potatoes are only available in limited quantities. Do the math, and you’ll realize the same must hold true for these chips. The bottom line is, there will be times you won’t find Organic Kettle Style Potato Chips on our shelves. 

We don’t want to start an ‘organic chip panic,’ nevertheless, we will advise hoarding while you can—especially for those with high levels of chip compulsion. You know who you are.

I'm well aware that this might be nothing more than marketing hype to sell more product. But I loved them enough that I decided to act as if the warning might be true--and I bought three more bags before I had even finished the first one.

As my final demonstration of endorsement, I'm adding this item to my Top Ten list. It earns this distinction in my book not for being an innovative, unique product, but rather for being a simple, common type of product executed perfectly.

The olive oil chips remain a top contender, though they still need salt added to the bag, as I described in an update to our original review.

As for the reduced-guilt chips, well, that's a whole nuther story, as they say. They are, in fact, quite bad. Flavorless. Overcooked. Dry. Brittle. Just not good. One will allegedly ingest 33% less fat with these. I say pick one of the good ones, and eat 33% fewer of them. You'll be much happier that way.

Will I buy it again? 

I'll buy the new organic ones every chance I get. If they really do go through periods of being unavailable, I'll buy the olive oil ones, add some salt, and be nearly as happy with them. I'll have no more of the reduced-guilt variety.

Nina's View

I concur with Bob about most of this, except: this current sample of Olive Oil chips was salted just right for my taste. I found the Organic ones too salty, and didn't like that they tend to clump together. Therefore I prefer the Olive Oil ones. 

Trader Joe's no-pulp orange juices

Nina was fighting a nasty cold, possibly influenza, and asked me to bring her some provisions--among them, orange juice. The only TJ's OJ I had bought previously was their frozen concentrate, which is just about the only way I've had orange juice all my life. Oh, sure, once in a while if I'm having breakfast at a restaurant and they offer fresh-squeezed, I'll have some, and it's the nectar of the gods. But the cost of non-concentrate juice and the difficulty of lugging home heavy jugs from the store have caused me to settle on frozen concentrate as good enough most of the time.

Nina's request, however, presented a nice opportunity to try a couple more TJ's products. When I looked over the options, I noticed that they offered two different no-pulp versions: one from concentrate, one not. There was a substantial difference in price: $1.99 versus $3.29. Would we be able to tell a difference in taste? And if so, would the difference be worth the extra cost? It is to answer precisely such questions that this blog exists, so I jumped at the opportunity.

Nina poured a glass of each juice for me, and I tried them without knowing which was which. One small taste of each was all it took; I was left with zero doubt about what I was drinking. The comparison test was only a contest in the same sense as it's a "contest" when one boxer comes out of his corner and knocks out the other with one punch. Here it took just one sip for the referee to whistle the end of the bout.

My palate is untrained and, I have to admit, a rather blunt, unsophisticated instrument. When I can instantly recognize a marked difference between two similar products, well, then they're not really very similar after all.

The from-concentrate juice tastes pretty much like what I've come to expect when I reconstitute my own. It's OK, but it's nothing to make you stand up and take notice.

The not-from-concentrate juice was superior in every way: richer, more complex, sweeter and yet with more citric tartness all at once.

As to the second question--is the better product worth 65% more? That's a much harder question.

This experiment has alerted me to a mental mistake I've been making my entire adult life. I have assumed, without ever checking, that I was saving money by buying frozen concentrate instead of having the manufacturer reconstitute the juice for me. I see now, however, that that assumption was false. TJ's frozen OJ concentrate costs $2.99 for a 12-ounce can, which makes 48 ounces of juice--about 6.2 cents per ounce. The not-from-concentrate product here costs just 5.1 cents per ounce, while the from-concentrate product is just 3.1 cents per ounce. So for decades I have been paying more for an inferior product. Of course, I haven't done a direct taste comparison of the frozen versus fresh. I probably should.

I would certainly be willing to lug the carton home to get better juice at a lower cost. On the other hand, since I'm already used to reconstituted juice, maybe I'll go for the cheapest option of all, with the from-concentrate version. I'm not sure yet.

Will I buy it again? 

I'm still pondering that. But I might be on the verge of changing a lifelong habit here.