I Shop At Trader Joe's — But You'll Never See Me Buying These 17 Things

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People take grocery stores seriously, and for good reason. We rely on them for affordable prices, dependable inventory, and quality products, preferably with a few fun finds to make meals and snacking more interesting. After all, most of us aren't hunting and gathering so much as wandering the aisles at 7:30 p.m., trying to figure out what we can scrape together for dinner. Finding a store that checks all those boxes is worth sticking with. For me, that's Trader Joe's.

When I lived in Vermont, Trader Joe's was the only grocery store in the city that was reliable, accessible by bus, and offered the perfect balance of whimsical and practical products. So it's fair to say that I've tried countless products over the years, many of which I've loved and recommended to fellow shoppers. But for every Trader Joe's hit, there have been a disappointment or two. I'm sharing the products I think aren't worth your money, from everyday staples to tempting treats, based on my experience as both a professional product reviewer and a longtime Trader Joe's shopper.

Although I consider myself to be pretty immune to gimmicks when shopping, I'm a sucker when it comes to candy. If I see a novel candy, especially when I'm hungry, I almost always add it to my cart. And that was the original appeal of A Gaggle of Gummy Candy, which is a mishmash of gummy candy similar to Haribo's StarMix — though it's nowhere near the same caliber as what Haribo has achieved with its masterful blend of puffy marshmallow-like candy, fruit gummies, and confectionery odds-and-ends. 

I found this Trader Joe's gummy mix weirdly wet, which admittedly isn't a sensation I expected from gummy candy. Each bag is filled with cherries, octopi, cola bottles, eggs, and other shapes, all of which taste cola-adjacent. Eating them feels like diving into a bag of gummy candy you left in your car's cupholder on a hot summer day — the pieces stick to your molars and tongue and don't come out. Plus, the flavors all meld together, and not in a good way. This is especially true of the aftertaste, which hangs around like humidity on the aforementioned peak summer day. I appreciate that this bag of candy is quite large, especially in an economy where everything seems to be shrinking, but it's not a treat I can say I love. 

Now, this one will definitely cause a stir among self-proclaimed Trader Joe's loyalists. The Scandinavian Swimmers are like the passionate lovechild of Swedish Fish and Dots candy, though they are about twice the size and thickness of their nautical parent. The first time I ate them, they reminded me of the 25-year-old gumdrops that used to sit in a glass container on my grandmother's coffee table. They were almost mushy, and their size made them unpleasant to eat. I felt like I had to unhinge my jaw in order to get one in my mouth. 

The weird part is that, aside from the lobsters (which I deem perfectly acceptable and worthy of repurchase), all of the other candy tastes vaguely like blue raspberry. Seeing as blue raspberries don't exist in the "wild," the Swimmers are far from a fresh-tasting candy, nor one that sends me crawling back to the bag for another handful. My advice? Just go for the lobsters (sold separately as "Just The Lobsters"), which are dead ringers for the classic Swedish Fish and much more pleasant to eat. 

I'm not a cold foam drinker (mainly because it floats on top like oil on a lake, which defeats the purpose of creamer entirely, but I digress), but I did try Trader Joe's Vanilla Cold Foam Creamer for my ranking of grocery store cold foams. And, as you can probably guess, this product didn't convert me. 

More than the others I tried, this cold foam stayed completely separate from the cold brew underneath. In part, that's the allure of cold foam. But the fact that this one didn't even settle a little meant my taste buds were getting pin-fired with flavors and sensations: bitter coffee, cloying foam, watery coffee, creamy foam. It didn't do its job, and I didn't feel as though it made a tangible enough impact on the flavor and experience of my cold brew. Stick to a better-quality brand rather than putting it in the hands of a master-of-none grocer like Trader Joe's. 

Like coffee, baked goods aren't a category in which I'd automatically trust Trader Joe's to deliver. That might surprise fans of some of its bakery finds, including its sheet cakes, waffles, and brownies. But when it comes to bagels, Trader Joe's falls short. 

This isn't solely a Trader Joe's problem, either. When one of our reviewers tried and ranked blueberry bagel brands, bagel chains dominated the top spots, rather than grocery store brands. In my experience, the same holds true across flavors. Trader Joe's bagels, whether everything, plain, or seasonal, tend to be dry and lack the chewy texture I'd expect from a bagel that's been boiled before baking. Instead, they're glorified bread, which makes them disappointing, whether you're eating them with cream cheese or as a breakfast sandwich.

One of the only reasons I wanted to take on this assignment was so that I could share my outright hatred of Jingle Jangle. Call me a Grinch, but this is the most awful concept I've ever seen from a Trader Joe's product: Put a bunch of tiny, chocolate-coated bites that don't really go together in a tin, charge an arm and a leg, and watch the customers come in droves. While it's a popular product, I feel as though it's my duty to warn unsuspecting shoppers not to add this find to their carts. 

My main issue with this product is that it is almost entirely sweet — and it's all cheap, poor-quality chocolate. Pair the chocolate-covered pretzels with candy gems, peanut butter cups, chocolate chips, chocolate-covered popcorn, and other cloying candies, and it's just a lot of sugar, sugar, and sugar. 

Like bagels, English muffins are really hard to get right, and Trader Joe's are always a swing — and a big miss. Frankly, I've never gotten any grocery store product that's even remotely close to what Thomas' brand offers with its classic English Muffins. 

Trader Joe's English muffins are particularly dry, and I've had issues in the past with getting packs that are hard and frozen (which makes sense, as Trader Joe's doesn't have an in-store bakery). The quality control on this glorified bread is perpetually off, and even though I'm only paying around $2 for a bag, I'd rather spend that $2 on an English muffin that's enjoyable to eat. 

Overall, the quality and variety of Trader Joe's nuts and trail mixes are impeccable (part of me thinks this is because of the fast product turnover). However, I exclude the Everything But the Bagel Nut Duo from this praise because those nuts are awful. 

Okay, maybe the cashews and almonds that make up its composition are okay. But the seasoning? Well, what little seasoning exists is lacking. So you might get an errant sesame seed or burnt-tasting piece of onion here and there. But really, all you get is glossy egg-white residue on each nut. There are so many better options out there from the grocer — even if you prefer savory over sweet. 

Most folks want more nutrition from their daily staples, and switching from white sandwich bread to Trader Joe's Sprouted Wheat Multigrain Bread seems like a safe bet. For those not in the know: Sprouted breads are one of the best you can eat in terms of fiber, though they also boast other benefits, including improved digestibility and more protein and vitamins. However, all that means nothing if the loaf itself is terrible. 

Every time I have tried this bread thinking it would be a cheaper replacement for Dave's Killer Bread, I end up disappointed by its lack of moisture. It's quite literally cardboard moonlighting as bread — and healthy bread no less. You might get a little more of a nutritional punch, but at the expense of taste and texture. It'll only do your sandwich a disservice.

Sriracha is one of the products that you just don't mess with. Huy Fong makes, arguably, the most iconic version of the condiment, and it really isn't that expensive. I can't say what compelled me to buy Trader Joe's version of it for the first time; I was likely passing through the store, saw it, and thought, "Why not?" But after tasting it and comparing it with Huy Fong, I can confirm that whatever Trader Joe's is trying to pass off as sriracha is not worth buying. 

When our taster tried all of the hot sauces at the grocer, they placed the sriracha in the middle, noting that its flavor isn't inherently bad, but that the difference between it and the name brand is stark. I found it much sweeter than Huy Fong and lacking the characteristic heat I've come to expect. This is kind of odd, seeing as there is a fire-breathing dragon on the bottle instead of the iconic Huy Fong rooster. The sweetness makes me think something less menacing, like a cuddly kitten, would be a better fit.

I am a big home baker, and I take cake very seriously. Despite sheet cakes being a really tough recipe to screw up, since there is no stacking, evening cake layers, or careful and deliberate frosting required, Trader Joe's still underdelivers with its Mini Sheet Cakes. 

I just don't get the appeal behind these cakes, which can serve about six. Sure they're cute, and sure you can upgrade them with any number of presentation hacks, but it's time we hear the music and recognize that these cakes just aren't anything special. I disliked the strawberry one most when I tasted all the Mini Sheet Cake flavors I found at my local Trader Joe's, and I thought the Dark Chocolate Ganache Mini Sheet Cake was an insult to fudgy, dense chocolate cakes everywhere. Given the poor frosting choices on most of these cakes and the overwhelming sweetness of the Chantilly Cream Vanilla Bean Mini Sheet Cake in particular, I can't say I would buy any of these again — especially when I could make a copycat vanilla bean sheet cake at home.

Overnight oats may be one of the easiest recipes to make at home ever. Just toss your oats into a jar, add your milk of choice, and let them sit overnight; then garnish them with your favorite toppings and eat them the next morning. Trader Joe's makes it even easier by peddling Overnight Oats in flavors like vanilla and peanut butter. Given how cheap oats, milk (or a plant-based substitute), and flavoring are, it's easy to see how much of a markup Trader Joe's adds to these $1.99 per-serving cups. 

But being a rip-off alone is not enough reason to include these cups on this list — so it's a good thing their flavor leaves much to be desired. They taste about as good as oatmeal that's been sitting in liquid for days can. When I make overnight oats at home, I won't let them sit more than a day because they taste funky and the liquid turns starchy. The same goes for these oatmeal cups. Save yourself the cash and buy all of the ingredients you need to make them at Trader Joe's instead, including 2-pound bags of rolled oats for $3.99 each and $1.99 for 32 ounces of Organic Almond Milk. 

I really shouldn't have gotten my hopes up for these vanilla bean stones ... I mean scones. This is a particularly hard treat to nail, as it requires the right ratio of fat to flour to liquid so it doesn't resemble a cookie or a hockey puck. Unfortunately, these Glazed Vanilla Bean Scones err toward the latter, meaning they're not ones I would even eat alongside a cup of tea.

I will give Trader Joe's some credit, as the vanilla bean flecks are a nice touch. I just wish that there was a bit more moisture and fat in the scone itself, along with a more pronounced buttery flavor. The sugar level, as I know is true with most Trader Joe's baked goods, is high, and I don't think it does the gentle vanilla essence any favors. Scones can be such a beautiful treat when made well, and these just don't hit the mark. 

I had tried Trader Joe's Chocolate Chip Brioche-Style Liège Waffles before tasting its Pumpkin and Spice version for a review of Trader Joe's fall finds. I was unimpressed with both. These treats have "gimmick" plastered all over them. They come in an attractive bag and are individually wrapped. And at first glance, they look like just what you'd get from a snack shack at a mountaintop ski resort. But both products taste dull. The chocolate chip version is overly sweet — as happens when you add pearl sugar to an already sweet waffle loaded with chocolate chips. The sugar is crunchy, and its texture is welcome, but it doesn't do enough to balance what I read as staleness from the waffle. Despite being wrapped in plastic, these waffles are horribly dry and need to be dunked in coffee to make them palatable.

Conceptually, it's a cute idea, and I'm sure bakery-aisle loyalists adore it. But I would much rather have a soft homemade buttermilk waffle — or heck, a frozen store-bought one heated up in the microwave — instead.

This Pumpkin Pie Spice Bark was another seasonal find I tried at Trader Joe's in 2026, and one I can't say I will ever eat again or recommend anyone buy. I'm perfectly okay with chocolate and chocolate bark, though not when it's mixed with an oddball combination of gingersnap cookies, pretzels, and sea salt. 

My big issue with this product is the pumpkin pie-spiced white chocolate. White chocolate is bad enough; you don't need to load it up with all the dusty sweet spices in your pantry that you've been meaning to throw out, too. There is so much going on in this Trader Joe's find that it's hard to focus on what the components are underneath all of that awful-tasting white chocolate. The spice was so heavy that it became bitter, and the sharpness butt heads with the cloyingness during every bite. I'm hard-pressed to find any redeeming qualities in this seasonal product. 

Oreos are such a wonderful sandwich cookie, and Trader Joe's just can't match the OG. I've tried numerous Joe-Joes over the years, including most recently its Pumpkin-Flavored seasonal Joe-Joes. They're so sweet that you lose the pumpkin essence underneath. The cookies are thick, dry, and lack flavor, and even though I have a penchant for eating just the filling in sandwich cookies, even I can admit that it's only as good as its cookie components. 

I would be remiss not to mention the other Trader Joe's versions of these cookies, which include flavors like vanilla and candy cane, along with more out-of-left-field options like mango. Every version I've tried has had similar issues — namely, they're not Oreos.

When I first prepared this Banana Bread Mix, I was surprised (read: perturbed) to find it didn't call for bananas, since the flavoring was already in the batter. While it makes one thing easier for you (who has stockpiles of overripe bananas for banana bread anyway?), it also makes another harder: It calls for creamed butter. 

When I want a boxed baking mix, I want it to be as mindless to prepare as possible. The fact that I have to take a stand mixer out specifically for a boxed mix, let alone one that doesn't even make that good of a banana bread loaf, is asinine. 

I spent almost seven years as a vegan, so when I first discovered Trader Joe's Red Lentil Sedanini, I thought I should load up on protein. And when you look at the nutrition panel of this legume-based, gluten-free pasta, you can't help but feel inclined to buy it. However, after eating it for years, I can tell you that it's about as much of a skip as skip can get. 

Unlike other chickpea-, lentil-, and bean-based pastas I've tried over the years, this one stinks. No, really — like smells-like-burning-rubber stinks. The bean essence is undeniably strong, and it taints the flavor of the pasta sauce or whatever you serve it with. While it's better than the now-discontinued Black Bean Rotini (which turned the water I cooked it in pitch-black), I'd leave this noodle alternative to the pros, including brands like Banza.