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Showing posts with label sides. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sides. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie

Ever buy something, thinking it was one thing, but come to find out, it's something else altogether?

Such is the case here with Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie.

Yes, yes, I know, I coulda read the package or description a little better. Heck, even the word "pie" is kinda a big hint. But for whatever reason, my mind stopped reading after "Savory Corn" and my eyes focused instead on the picture on the package. So neat...so clean...so wedgy and delicious and, well, savory looking.

It's gotta be corn bread, right?!?!?!? And on one of the first cool nights of fall, after the end of a long week and about to kick up the feet and relax and watch "Hocus Pocus" with the kids, nothing sounded better than a little easy to make corn bread to go with some homemade chili and beer. Sounds perfect.

Except....corn pie is not corn bread. Doh!

I'll give you this: It definitely tastes like corn bread. There's a certain mealiness to it, just like a good cornbread. The pie also features a lot of whole kernel corn, so there's no mistaking it, it tastes like corn. But also a little cheddar up top, and a little light peppery spice, with ample saltiness...yup, if this were cornbread, it'd be a dang good one.

But...it's corn pie.

In addition to all that, there's eggs and other stuff that make this more like maybe a souffle or casserole. It's not quite eggy enough to border on quiche. So it's kinda wet and a bit watery and super dense. The pie is extremely filling.

Really, I can get over the fact that it's pie and not bread - it was my complete lack of simple computational understanding, after all - and say all in all, I enjoyed this, with one big demerit. I baked in the over for the recommended cook time, and when I yanked it out, the top and edges were brown and simmering. Mmmmm. I cut into it...and the middle was still cold. Thawed, yes. Ready to eat? Nah. I think we ended nuking some (kids were clamoring for their movie) but when I reheated some in the oven a few nights later, I made sure it got burny all over. It was much better that way. Perhaps coincidentally, it also tasted and felt much closer to corn bread....I digress.

Good enough pie, good enough buy. For the roughly $3 it cost, it's a good value which will probably be repeated. It's a good autumnal pickup for sure on a cold day. There's no mistaking that.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Monday, August 12, 2019

Trader Joe's Chocolate Hummus


There are certain things I don't ever really want Trader Joe's to come out with: banana flavored horseradish sauce, caramel baba ghanoush, hot dog ice cream, any kind of kale-based dessert, or elephant dung espresso beans, just for a few examples. I might have added chocolate hummus to that list if we had not, in fact, purchased it on our last TJ's run. 

But purchase it we did, despite both Sonia and I initially reacting with disgust. Could a combination that odd possibly be good? Sure, anything's possible. I was kinda hoping that it would be just one of those marketing snafus—you know something that doesn't necessarily sound good, but actually is good—not unlike purple yam ice cream, I guess. 

Somebody tweeted about this product last week. Of course, I can't find the tweet now, but it said something to the effect of "The chocolate hummus is great. It tastes like brownie dough." Sounded promising. I was thinking, "Well if that's the case, then why didn't they just call it 'vegan brownie dough dip' or something moderately enticing instead of chocolate hummus...?" Then they could just let us discover that it's made with garbanzo beans after we've had a strawberry or two dipped in it and we've already fallen in love with it. Everybody wins.


Dessert hummus just didn't sound appealing to me, but I absolutely love chick peas, hummus, and I don't have any major problems with chocolate, either. So we dove right in. Aaaand at first bite, I tasted chocolate...and hummus. Just in case the first bite was a fluke, I took a second. Again, chocolate....and hummus. They didn't call it "brownie dough dip" because it's chocolate hummus. It is hummus...that's chocolate flavored. And there's just not quite enough chocolate flavor to drown out the garbanzo-y hummus flavor, which, again, I love...just not when it's mixed with chocolate. It's truly very close to the unappetizing flavor I imagined in my mind when I first heard the phrase "chocolate hummus." It's a darker, cocoa-ish chocolate flavor that's not very sweet, but still characteristically very chocolatey, and in my opinion, doesn't blend very well with the earthy, legumey goodness of chick peas. 

Everybody knows strawberries and chocolate go great together. Would you ever add hummus to your chocolate strawberries? Did it ever occur to anyone to mix Gone Berry Crazy with hummus? If your answer to either of those questions is "yes," then go ahead and try this stuff. You might love it. I, however, did not.

Even the texture is identical to traditional hummus. There's a fair amount of grittiness to it. I wasn't a huge fan of the way it mixed with fruit. Strawberries, raspberries. Neither worked perfectly in my opinion. I tried it with pita bread, just because, you know...hummus and pita, right? Wrong. I almost wanted to try it with pita and peanut butter and see if that worked, but we didn't have pb on hand, and I had kinda noped out by that point anyway.


Could it ever replace Nutella or Cocoa Almond Spread? Not in our household. Not that we have Nutella much anyway, but I'd never put this stuff on par with the classic hazelnut spread for any dessert-ish applications.

Sonia? She couldn't make up her mind. The only word she could utter after I demanded she share her impression of the product was "weird." "I dunno. It's weird, it's weird," she kept repeating, as if stunned by the audacity to even create such an enigmatic commodity. If it were up to this guy, the tub would go back for a no-hassle refund. Sonia wants to give it another chance, suggesting that she'll eat it plain, one spoonful at a time, although, even as she says it, it's obvious she's turned off by the notion.

Three stars from Sonia. Two from me.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Friday, April 12, 2019

Trader Joe's Gochujang Chop Salad Kit


I understand the whole Forrest Gump thing about life being like a box of chocolates. But I think life is more like a salad. 

In a box of chocolates, you're basically only experiencing one specific chocolate at a time. In a salad, there's a whole bunch of ingredients mingling around at once. I mean, sure, you could say that chocolates better capture the element of surprise that life throws at you sometimes, but with salads, just because you know what you're purchasing, you still can't be sure exactly what it will taste like when you put it in your mouth. 

That notion intensifies when one travels full time. We generally know where we're headed, but we never know what we'll experience when we get there. We were just in 70 degree weather in Nevada a week ago, and now, in April, we find ourselves dipping below freezing again here in Utah, experiencing snow showers, looking at enormous, majestic mountains out our living room windows, and seeing some sights we've wanted to see for a long time. We're not finding luck with traditional RV parks out west like we assumed we would. We're finding it even harder to purchase wine here than it was in Pennsylvania and South Jersey. Imagine that.


It's a mix-up of wonderful and frustrating experiences, kinda like this new salad kit from TJ's.

Sonia thinks the cabbage and lettuce were just shy of fresh here. I'm not sure it's apparent in the photo we took, but I can't disagree. There was just a slightly sad, soggy quality to the lettuce in our bag—something we seldom experience from Trader Joe's. It wasn't inedible. It was just...not the freshest lettuce/cabbage we've ever had. That's likely to vary greatly from bag to bag, region to region, and week to week. It was likely just a stroke of bad luck. And again, the greens weren't terrible. I almost didn't even mention it. But now I did and it already sounds like I'm complaining.

So I'll just get the rest of my complaints out of the way and then continue on to more positive stuff.

The puffed rice was an odd element to me. It was crunchy, which was nice, I guess. But I just can't shake the notion that it's cereal. I guess if I were forced to pick a cereal to put on a salad, this would be a more logical choice than, say, Count Chocula or Raisin Bran, but I generally wouldn't go putting cereal on my salads in the first place.

It needed more dressing. Sonia doesn't even like a ton of dressing usually, but she totally agreed, maybe because she absolutely loved this dressing. I liked it a lot, too. It's got a bit of spice to it. It's...I dunno...very Asian-tasting—like something you might pair with a Chinese chicken salad, except in this case, it's Korean. 

I must admit, this is my very first Gochujang rodeo. Russ and Sandy took a gander at some Gochujang almonds a while back, but Sonia and I never tried those. Sweet, spicy, and savory red chili paste. That's what I keep reading about it everywhere, and that sounds pretty accurate. This salad dressing was a "Gochujang vinaigrette." It was by far the best element of the mix in my humble opinion.

The black sesame seeds were interesting. They added a distinctive crunch to the mix, and flavor-wise, they lent a slight nuttiness when consumed en masse. They were so tiny, their flavor was nearly undetectable in the bites when only one or two wound up on our forks. Overall, we liked them.

$3.99 for the bag. Plenty of salad for two people. Not sure if we'll purchase it again. Three and a half stars from each of us.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Thursday, February 28, 2019

Trader Joe's Vegetable and Soba Noodle Stir Fry Kit

Warning: a completely predictable review of Trader Joe's Vegetable and Soba Noodle Stir Fry Kit is about to start. Read on at your own risk of spending the next three to five minutes of your life knowing exactly what's gonna be said here.

First, I'm gonna say something about kids and being busy because of kids and work and stuff and life and whatever else that having the time to actually cook a dinner is a rare treat, because when we're not busy we're actually somewhat aware of how tired we are. Because of this, we rely a bit too much on boxed mac n cheese and other super quick meals. But we also want to be vaguely healthy.

So next then is the suggestion to purchase said TJ's soba noodle stir fry kit to give it a try. It features many fine leafy green veggies, which are good for you. Broccoli is good and tasty. So is bok choy, or at least I guess so, because we consume it without much argument (us adults, at least). And everyone likes snow peas, and cabbage, well...it works. Good veggies. Firm. Fresh. Crisp. Yum.

Then the point will be made that the soba noodles are also quite good, in the way that only soba noodles can be. A side note regarding relative lack of experience of consuming soba noodles will be made, because restaurants like that aren't in the family wheelhouse because, well, kids. Though they should be. But whatever. Noodles are good, with good veggies.

And then good sauce. Soy and ginger. There's nothing magic about the combo but dang it's good and a little bit spicy. That sauce really ties it all together, doesn't it? It doesn't matter what anything else is - there could be cardboard strips or mulch in here, but if there's a good tasty sauce on it, it'll taste good.

Then the familiar complaints that some may make: Might be too salty for some. That's true. Soy sauce is super salty. It can't help itself. Then at $4.99 it might be a bit expensive compared to making similar sized servings. That's probably also true but discounts the notion that convenience and ease come at a premium. And then I will note that our kids hated it because it wasn't mac and cheese, mostly because it had an actual flavor, and were relieved when Sandy I offered to take their portions and feed them peanut butter banana sandwiches instead because we were hungry and not in a mood to argue with them. And I will the small quibble that it could use some protein - some chicken or heck even tofu would be a good side, but a little excess sauce would be super appreciated then.

See? You could have guessed all that, right? Right. You're smart. That's why you shop at TJ's, and why you read our blog. That's also why you'll follow our recommendation to check out the refrigerated section and pick up this TJ's stir fry kit the next time you go shop. Because we told you to, and you knew we would.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Vegetable and Soba Noodle Stir Fry Kit: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, December 21, 2018

Trader Joe's Chianti Red Wine Artisan Salami

Excuse us please. We've been drowning in cookies.

Sandy and I got cookies like Scrooge McDuck got coins. We've been swimming in them after a recent holiday cookie potluck we hosted...and there's no end in sight with family coming in next week for Christmas. My mom can't stand the thought of anyone not having a 55 gallon drum full of at least three of their favorite cookies.

So even though TJ's typically shines this year for all sorts of holiday goodies, we've avoided the super Christmassy sugary stuff out there. our bad. A lot seems to be recycled from years past, so almost undoubtedly we've covered if you did a search here.

So how about another kinda treat you might see at a holiday function...like Trader Joe's Chianti Red Wine Artisan Salami.

Gimli said it best, really. Salted pork. So tough to beat. And there's something to be said for a good quality salami, with bonus points for not having to behead any urakhai to get some.

I'd classify the TJ's red wine salami as such. "Artisan" might be more embellished marketing than actual fact, but no matter. The meat is how one may expect - a little greasy, a little gristly, with the pepperoni-esque collagen wrapper to remove before eating. The taste really is almost equal parts smoky and salty, with a little sweetness coming from roasted garlic and/or the red wine powder. The red wine is definitely noticeable and pleasant, and lends almost a certain "lightness" to the overall flavor.

For myself, I appreciated the overall softer bite. Not to say the meat isn't firm - it certainly is. But other similar meats I feel are more gnaw than chew, and that's not the case here. It helps it all go down a little easier.

And as I can presently (as of time of writing) attest to, the salmai pais well with a little bourbon. But put it on a cracker, get a sharp cheddar or smoked gouda...that'd be good. Really good. Holiday charcuterie board worthy good. And naturally, as it is a wine-based product, some adult-style grape juice just might work with it too.

One more pop culture reference, as I can't think of how else to work it in but I must: one of my favorite Family Guy moments ever.

At least be thankful I didn't try to make a "Red Red Wine" parody...I came up with a few lines but it started sounding way too suggestive in a route I did not wish to take way too quickly.

 But yes, red red wine can make a meat so fine. Who knew? And at a respectable $4.99 price tag as well. Double fours from the wife and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chianti Red Wine Artisan Salami: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Trader Joe's Cranberry Chevre

Crantastic. Tarterrific. Chevtacular.

Move over, cranberry sauce. I don't know how well this cheese would pair with turkey and stuffing, but I'd rather see this stuff on my Turkey Day spread, personally.

In my opinion, this is the best fruit and goat cheese pairing possible. It's the double dose of tartness that gets me. Sure, there's a good bit of sweetness from the cranberries—both natural and added, but by and large, this is a mouth-puckering, tart, tangy, sour patch people, spread-on-bread but preferably water crackers kind of snack here. Pairs nicely with a malbec or merlot. I just looked it up right now and wine people are telling me that it goes best with a Cabernet Franc. If they say so. I've never even heard of it. Cabernet Sauvignon? Sure. 

I'm learning to appreciate sweeter chevres like blueberry vanilla more than I did in years past, but every time I try them, there's still this notion that "blueberry vanilla" should be an ice cream flavor, not a goat cheese flavor. 

When I taste this stuff...I feel like this is why God invented goats. 


There's the perfect amount of smooshed, dried cranberry matter all around the outside of the cheese. If it's straight outta the fridge, it's a bit difficult to spread. I think the flavor comes across a little better, too, when the cheese has been left at room temperature for a spell. Most of the time, the cranberries stick to the cheese pretty tenaciously, yielding a well-balanced cheese to berry ratio in each bite. Water crackers provide the best neutral venue for this chevre to shine—not just flavor-wise, but the crispness serves as the perfect foil to the cheese's smooth creaminess.


Sonia liked the cheese, too, adding that the product has a melt-in-your-mouth quality that she wasn't expecting. "It feels like a fall food since it's so cranberry-ish," she said.

Four stars from her. Four and a half from me. 

Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes

Really wish I could, but as close as it comes to actually working, it just doesn't. Cauliflatkes. Get it?

It's almost an apt word to describe Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes. Almost. So close. It's caulifower. It's a wannabe potato pancake, which is more accurately a latke. It's a cauilfower latke.

But a cauliflatke? It just doesn't work.

Oh well.

Which is too bad, as these cauliflower latkes are incredibly decent. It's nearly shocking. We all know by now how versatile cauliflower can be, and how well it can mimic rice and potatoes...still, let's be honest. You can usually tell if something is cauliflower. If it's not in the feel, it's in the taste. Kinda like how you can sense gluten free goods more times than not, or diet sodas. There's a distinctive difference more than times than not.

File these wannabe spudders under "not." If I didn't know these were cauliflower, I would've assumed there were regular potato. The cakes are dense and heavy, with a lot of "build" to them. Granted, they do look a little different, as there's not toasty shredded bits of potatoes here and there, but eyes closed, not sure I'd tell the difference. Even when baked in the oven, as we did, there's a greasy crispiness that makes me wish we woulda deepfried them. I'll have to settle for the gratitude of my arteries.

There's a small taste difference, though, but not due to base matter. Almost every latke I've ever had contained onions in them, and weren't shy about it. No onions here. Instead there's a small amount of Parmesan cheese used as flavor. It's not over the top, but could more paltable for the anti-onion crowd, whoever you are. Weirdos.

Bake them, fry them, eat them straight, top with sour cream, serve with applesauce. Eat at dinner, at celebrations, as a party appetizer...heck even be weird like us and have them for breakfast. Nutritionally speaking, they're a black hole, but this time, less carbs, amirite? It's every bit a latke. These TJ taterless cakes aren't labelled as gluten free but I'm not seeing anything indicated on the ingredients that would have me to expect they're not...correct me if I'm wrong please. You can't say the same about the regular TJ latkes.

Small note: the box of six costs $3.99. That's one of those odd price points that screams neither screaming deal nor complete rip off, which probably means it's fair for all involved...but as much as I like them at $3.99, I'd like them even more at $2.99.

Call them whatever you want. Maybe with enough support "cauliflatkes" could be a thing...but I'm not counting on it. Count this though: double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, October 5, 2018

Trader Joe's Harvest Chili


This past week, our household has been chaotic to say the least. We generally like to share a bit of our lives with you here on this blog—to mix a personal story or two in with our thoughts about whatever Trader Joe's foods we're eating. At this juncture, we're just not ready to get into specifics, but I will mention that there have been some truly wonderful, life-altering changes with us recently, as well as some terrible tragedies. They've affected our whole family, but none more than my dear wife. It's remarkable how when the tides of change are churning and this crazy world's got you on your knees, a simple song or film or photograph can generate a transcendent moment. Food can do that sometimes, too.


I'll just put it this way: Sonia is madly in love with this product. This is one of her favorite fall foods ever, which puts it high in the running for her favorite thing ever. She gobbled up her share of the soup swiftly, remarking "wonderful," "fabulous," and "amazing" as she ate. Haven't seen her this enthralled with a product in a very, very long time. She had been understandably surly and sullen just moments before, but this chili got her right real quick. She even closed her eyes, smiled, and hugged herself as if in some euphoric dreamland, punch-drunk on squash, pumpkin, and black beans, much like the dude who put the label on our tub apparently was at the moment of application. She even liked this stuff cold.


Me? I see where the wifey is coming from, and I like it, but I'm not quite as enthralled. This might be the least chili-ish chili I've ever had. It's more of a "chunky harvest squash soup" if you ask me. Chili spices? Yeah, I guess they're in there, but they're not very dominant—I wouldn't have minded a significant boost in the heat department. Also, there's not enough beans to be chili, if you ask me. I wish there were some traditional kidney beans in there. On the plus side, there isn't a whole lot of tomato flavor. There are diced tomatoes, but most of their essence gets lost in the mix. Never been big into the taste of actual tomatoes. The dominant tastes and textures here are those of squash, cauliflower, and quinoa—and a nice peppery, garlicky broth. It's certainly unique—not particularly chili-esque, but thick and tasty nonetheless.

$4.49 for a decent size tub. Plenty for both of us, either as a side dish or the main course. Five stars and several emotional tears from Sonia. Three and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Friday, September 28, 2018

Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals

Hey you! Like squash?

How about squash with squash?

How about squash with squash in a squashy sauce?

How about squash with squash in a squashy sauce...with a side of squash?

That's what my family more or less ended up with for dinner the other night, due to my brilliant planning. But I'll limit my guiltiness to only the last part of "a side of squash." Hey, without thinking too hard, some zucchini sounded like a great idea to go with our Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals. Probably shoulda gone for some leaft greens or something instead. Oh well.

Everything else though? That's all Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals. Sorry for the cruddy pic, I just got a new better camera but still figuring out how to take pics of shiny packages. So in case the description on the front is unclear, it says spaghetti squash spirals and chunks of butternut squash in a seasonal tomato sauce. "Seasonal tomato sauce" paired anywhere close to "harvest" with a TJ's item is a code for pumpkin puree being involved, as is the case here...pumpkin is like an honorary squash, right? So it's squash with squash in a squashy sauce. Period. At least there's none of those purported "spices" really bandying about in here.

Wish I could say I liked it more. It's not an awful product, and I kinda like the presentation. Our particular frozen package contained four small squash tumbleweed/bird nest type deals which heated quickly on our stove top, and combined well with the sauce and butternut squash chunks when added. All the squash was on, or on enough for a frozen product - the spaghetti was mild and firm, and appropriately noodley,  while the butternut was soft and sweet with a good touch of earthy. The sauce was a little sparing, as I would have liked more, as I feel it didn't offer much one way or another. Although pictured on the package as small shreds, the cheese on top came out as large flakes, and was a highlight. We love our Parmesan-esque cheeses here.

Still, there was something that felt lacking or at least not compelling. The spirals were small enough to leave us wanting more, so maybe that's part of it. Or maybe it just wasn't our favorite presentation...we're admittedly more of a roasted veggie kinda fam. Still, for relative ease and convenience, with an acceptable price tag of $2.99, the squashy spirals are a decent enough product. Just don't expect to be wowed.

Double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, July 27, 2018

Trader Joe's Creamy Polenta


Usually, when Sonia's home, she insists on doing the cooking. I'll admit, she's a little more skilled in the culinary arts than I am, but she's so adamant about always doing the kitchen stuff, I'm beginning to think she has serious doubts about my competence. I don't blame her.

For one, she always insists on washing the skillet thoroughly between each meal. But I always make the point that the remnants of the last meal simply yield "more flavor" in whatever's being prepared currently. She disagrees. She says that idea is "just a guy thing." From what we've heard from other couples, there's not much disagreement on that point.


Fortunately, for this meal, I was home alone and was left to run amok, unchecked by my better half and her pretentious ideas about culinary propriety. There were remnants of a makeshift stir-fry in the pan. I left it there. I mean, I took out the actual food—at first. But I left the remnants in there without washing anything. It was mostly bits of onion with a few shards of green bean and a thin coating of olive oil.

I'm sure this polenta would have been delightful without the onions, green beans, and olive oil, but I'm pretty sure they didn't hurt either. In fact, I liked them with the polenta so much, that I later mixed in the actual leftover stir-fry. Delish.

But I made sure to try the polenta by itself for the sake of this review. Thanks to reader Carissa E, who left a comment on this English muffin review from 2014 encouraging us to try this polenta. She says she'd give it an 11 out of 10. Sorry, Carissa. The scale only goes to 10. 

"These go to 11," right?

I must admit, it's pretty tasty, though. It's very creamy, as the name would suggest. When frozen, the "cream" comes in the form of large pellets that look like oversized white chocolate kisses. There's lots of spinach and plenty of carrot bits. The texture is indeed creamalicious. It's thicker than a soup, but still much more mushy than solid. The carrots didn't add a whole lot to the taste, but they lend a bit of substance to the otherwise porridge-like consistency.

It's got a savory flavor, with plenty of spinach taste to it. There's a buttery/milky flavor, as well. It's a nice comforting taste, with an almost homemade-quality to it. I agree with Carissa that it's much better than the Polenta Provencale. Sonia wishes there were a little more pepper and garlic seasoning in this dish, but was very happy with it other than that. It doesn't say gluten-free on the bag, but we're wondering why it wouldn't be. Cornmeal shouldn't have gluten, should it?

Four stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Friday, July 20, 2018

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal

For a few months in high school, I worked at my local Boston Market. It was an okay job - first and foremost, all the free cornbread I could ever want - but man, there's a few things that, close to twenty years later, kinda stick with me. Like the barrel of some sort of acid used to "clean" all the rotisserie skewers. Gross, hold your breath when walking by. Or how my assistant manager there regularly lit up while in the kitchen...during dinner rushes...while prepping food. That "smoked" turkey on the menu wasn't false advertising.

But another Boston Market memory came to mind while prepping Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal. You think all the side dishes there were freshmade? Bahahahaha, that's hilarious.  Nah, all the mashed potatoes and green beans and mac n cheese and whatever else was bagged and either steamed or boiled before being brought out...

...which is exactly how I made this Indian dish, in only a slightly more traditional method than nuking in our microwave. I literally submerged the package, as shown, in a boiling pot of water to warm up this shelf-stable lentil stew-like dish. I guess it's only weird if it doesn't work.

The tadka dal certainly works, as far as my tongue can ascertain. I can't tell you how authentic it is or isn't, but I can tell you both Sandy and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Tadka dal, if you're not familiar, is a fairly common spiced lentil dish in Indian cuisine. What we both enjoyed most was the warm, welcoming "glow" of the spices. I'm not sure how else to explain it. While somewhat spicy, it wasn't straight up heat, but there's not a complex depth to it either. It's not the same as other spices that you'd expect from, say, a tikka masala. Curry plays a part, but I'd wager on it being a bit heavy on the turmeric, which is just fine by me. You can see how yellow this stuff is.

The lentils are, well, lentil-like. What is there to really say about them? But they add earthiness and body to the creamy tomato broth base. There's enough lentils that it didn't even really seem all that tomato like, so that's a plus in Sandy's book. She might not even realize there were tomatoes in it until she reads this...I guess we'll find out. In any event, we both wish we had some naan to help get every last bit of the tadka dal into our belly.

Speaking of wishing for naan...the tadka dal is really more a side dish, or at least in need of something else to fill out to a full meal. We went cross-cultural with falaffels, but at least have some rice on hand to serve alongside.

Bringing one thing back: make note of the "creamy" aspect. Yup, sorry vegan lentil-lovers out there, there's milk in the ingredients here. From what I can tell from a quick Google search, many if not most tadka dal recipes can be or are vegan. So there's a potential knock.

For $1.99, we were happy. It's definitely repeat purchase-type material for us. If this TJ's tadka dal were a side dish or option at an Indian buffet, we'd be happy. Just get it out of the bag before bringing it out. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Friday, May 18, 2018

Trader Joe's Giardiniera

All I can think of when I see this product is that Iggy Pop track from a few years back: Gardenia. I realize it's not exactly the same word, but it's close enough that I get that bizarre, oddly-catchy chorus stuck in my head.

"Bizarre and oddly-catchy" wouldn't be entirely inaccurate if you were describing these veggies. Although the word "giardiniera" is foreign to me, the concept of spicy, pickled vegetables is not—peppers and carrots in particular. Sonia introduced me to the Mexican version—the La Morena brand—fairly early on in our relationship, and I fell in love with them. They're advertised simply as "pickled jalapeno peppers," but the small can contains carrot slices and onions, as well. La Morena has much more flavor and heat than this Trader Joe's product, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Things like pizza and pasta don't always beg for mouth-searing spiciness in the same way that many Mexican dishes do. That's when these pickled veggies come in handy. They'll spruce up just about any Italian dish that needs a little extra color and flavor—and even most American dishes for that matter.

The veggies are surprisingly crisp and crunchy considering they've been floating in liquid for a good while. The green and red peppers are noticeably limper than fresh specimens. It's the carrots, cauliflower, and pickles that flaunt an unexpected crispness. Some of the cauliflower pieces were large whole florets. I wouldn't have minded them in tinier fragments.

The liquid is predictably briny, but there's a pretty decent balance of the pickled flavor and natural veggie taste. For $1.99, this product makes a nice handy sprucer-upper to have on standby. I probably wouldn't recommend them as a stand-alone snack, although, I guess there are plenty of people who eat pickles that way, and well, there are pickles in here—pickled cucumbers, anyway. So if you'd like to expand your pickled veggie horizons, you should totally check out this jar of giardiniera.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

P.S. - Where are you, Giotto?

Friday, April 27, 2018

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gnocchi

Cauilflower...what can't it do?

Well, plenty, I suppose. Top of the list no-can-dos have to include facilitating world peace and being an adequate bacon substitute. But really, here's yet another product predominantly and scientifically featuring  Brassica oleracea var. botrytis...Trader Joe's Caulifower Gnocchi.

Cauliflower was a definite punishment veggie growing up. You know what I mean: the kind you were made to eat for dinner after a day full of misbehavin'. Gnow this is the kid of stuff we gnaturally reach for. Odd.

Anyways, we sauteed our gnocchi per the recommended prep directions. As is our usual, we gneglected to take an actual picture of the finished product - tsktsk, I know - but let me assure you: it looked GNOTHING like the package picture. Look at that gnocchi, with it's fine tan lines and gnice browning. Gnope. Our was pale and limp and and kinda soggy. That may have been our fault, a little, but we did the best we could. Sandy said somewhere on the interwebs there were some folks who suggested alternate methods to achieve that gnice gnocchi as advertised, but we didn't get there with what TJ's was telling us to do.

The rest kinda tasted as it looked. Soft, doughy, not really all that firm, slightly gnuanced with maybe a slight garlic flavor (coulda been our EVOO there, gnot sure what Sandy used), with a definite cauliflower taste. Gnot bad, and okay, but the rest of the fam kicked it up a gnotch with some marinara and cheese, which is common enough for gnocchi consumption I suppose.

Of course, it's gnot just cauiflower here. There's also cassava (basically fancyish potato) and potato flour as ingredients, I guess to help hold it all together. I'm gnot an expert on such things, but, say, if the point of cauilflower rice is to enjoy a rice-like substance which is gneither rice gnor grain, then what's the point of this gnocchi? Is it to be more gluten-free than anything else? It seems to me that this TJ's cauli-gnocchi contains right about as many carbs as regular gnocchi, so if that's a concern for you, you may have to pass. Maybe that's a gknock, maybe gnot.

Sandy said she'd buy again and experiment with prep for her lunches. I could take it or leave it with this gnocchi to be honest. Kinda like uneccessary silent letters in that regard. Middlin' marks from the two of us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gnocchi: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Friday, March 9, 2018

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Tabbouleh


Despite my familiarity and affinity for most Middle Eastern cuisines, I've only had tabbouleh once before sampling this cauliflowerized version from Trader Joe's. I remember liking it all right but not becoming obsessed with it like I did chicken shawarma. Nevertheless, the "Levantine vegetarian salad" is very popular among various Middle Eastern cuisines, and is nearly as ubiquitous as shawarma, pita, and hummus in ethnic restaurants here in the US.

I like traditional tabbouleh just a little more than this offering from Trader Joe's, but not for the reasons you might assume. The primary difference between this tabbouleh and one you might find at your local Lebanese restaurant is that they've substituted bulgur wheat with cauliflower, rendering a product that is not only vegan, but also gluten-free. As a result, the taste is slightly less nutty—less bready, if you will. But both Sonia and I agree that the cauliflower affects the texture of the tabbouleh significantly more than the flavor. The whole dish is soft and wet to begin with, and if anything, the cauliflower makes it softer—but it also lends a sogginess to it that might be off-putting to some.

The flavor is nice and fresh, citrusy, and subtly oniony. This dish reminds me very much of pico de gallo, but with cold riced cauliflower mixed in. And like pico de gallo, this tabbouleh can be used with Mexican dishes as well as Mediterranean ones, or it could simply be served with tortilla chips as an appetizer. Tell your guests it's "Mexican-Middle Eastern Fusion," even if it's just because you didn't have pita bread on hand.


That brings me to my next point: like pico de gallo, this product is full of raw tomatoes. I don't remember the tabbouleh I tried long ago containing so many pieces of tomato, but I guess it must have, since they're one of the main ingredients in almost any tabbouleh recipe. I'm not a huge fan of raw tomato, and I'm sure I'd have appreciated the flavor a little more if there weren't so many in there. I did my best to eat around them and pick them out and give them to Sonia the tomatophile, who was happy to gobble them up by themselves or mixed in with the rest of the tabbouleh.

This product works as a side for Mediterranean foods, as a condiment for chicken dishes that might need spruced up, or as a dip for chips, crisps, or pita bread. I'm sure it would do well as a substitute for tapenade—you could surely use it to top off bruschetta. I'd throw this on top of burritos or nachos. Eat it with fish. I could go on...

Accessible to vegans, vegetarians, and the gluten intolerant, TJ's has provided a very versatile dish here. $3.69 for the tub. And yet another Trader Joe's cauliflower product gets the thumbs up from the WG@TJ's team. Three and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Trader Joe's Zucchini Spirals


Like many children, when I was very young, I was turned off by most vegetables. I ate the basic stuff kids ate—peas and carrots, maybe some steamed broccoli here and there. But I remember being terrified of zucchini. I'd heard of zucchini bread and wondered what kind of sick person would ruin something as delicious as bread by baking a vegetable into it. After eating pan-fried zucchini from our garden once or twice and being relatively impressed by it, I got brave enough to try zucchini bread, too. I thought it was scrumptious. It works for the same reason pumpkin pie works: it's a unique vegetable surrounded by bread and sugar. 

On its own? It may not be quite as dessert-like, but as long as there's some oil and seasonings involved, it's certainly not bad.


Some of you might remember the carrot spirals we looked at last year. Same concept here, except with—you guessed it: zucchini!

I didn't feel like the zucchini was quite as versatile as the carrot, quite honestly—at least in terms of the product pairing with pasta sauces and that sort of thing. When I first heated the zucc spirals per the instructions, I felt the result was a bit too chewy. There was a subtle crunchiness to the vegetable, but there was also a slight stringiness. 

You can see in the picture above that the zucchini maintained its green and white colors after heating on the skillet for about nine minutes, as per the instructions. It still appeared essentially the same as when it's raw. Sonia pointed out that zucchini is a much fleshier vegetable than carrots, and for that reason, she thinks the carrot spirals are the superior product. 

When I fried the zucchini spirals in olive oil, they browned up nicely and got a bit more crisp and flavorful, in the manner of zucchini fries, albeit much longer and thinner. At that point, I was fine eating them with just 21 Seasoning Salute and a bit of extra sea salt, although I'm sure there are plenty of other sauces, dressings, and maybe even grated cheeses that might go with them.

Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit

This probably doesn't come as any sort of huge surprise or shocker, but...salad, in general, doesn't really excite me.

Most veggies are perfectly fine. I can eat broccoli, Brussel sprouts, squash, etc all day long. At the continued shock of my coworkers, I'll happily eat plain raw spinach at my desk. Aside from beets, off the top of my head, there's not a single vegetable I can think of that I don't like...still, salad leaves me ambivalent at best.

Maybe it's mixing up veggies. Maybe it's my usual distaste for many salad dressings. Or maybe it's just kinda the boring hum-drum that I find most salads to be, especially of the pre-packaged variety.

All that to say, I was kinda excited to try out Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit. Don't let the name fool you - slaw? Psshhh. It's salad all chopped up in shreds.

I wish I didn't get my hopes up so high.

There's nothing inherently wrong with the slaw kit. But there's nothing overly right, either. It's the same usual base blend of carrots, broccoli stalks, cabbage and kale in roughly equal proportion to one another. That part is good, but formulaic enough now for TJ's kits that it's not exactly meant as a heap of praise either. It's just kinda a given at this point. Fresh, crisp, crunchy, all that excellent stuff...

...but moving on to what should be the exciting stuff, right? The extras and mix-ins! This is where salads make or break it. First up: dried apricot tidbits! Always a fun add...if there were enough to go around. Not this time. We got only a small spoonful which is hard to split up in multiple meaningful portions. A small nice touch, as were the pepitas, for a little crunch and all, but again nothing too remarkable.

And the dressing? Ugh. "Tahini orange" it says. So sesame, with a citrus flair, so it could work, but there's also this vinegar-y presence that kinda muffs it all up. Much like my three year old when choosing between dinosaurs or trucks for her night-night pull-up, it's just so indecisive and kinda frustrating. Like, it should be good, but instead just gets in its own way. Sandy said it kinda tastes like nothing. I disagree - it tastes like something, just I have no idea what it should be. And instead of tying up the whole salad as a nice cohesive dish, it kinda makes the salad a turnoff.

Oh well. It's not a terrible price at $3, and I appreciate the ampersand in the title for what it's worth. They seem to be disappearing from TJ product names, as are the different Joes from around the world. Times are a-changin' I guess. But my general ambivalence towards salads is not. Both Sandy and I give it a pretty middlin' score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Trader Joe's Cheesy Trees

It's funny how snacks marketed for children often use animal shapes: Goldfish, Teddy Grahams, and of course, classic animal crackers like Barnum's Animals...

And I'm not saying you couldn't pull it off, but if you were throwing some fine holiday soiree, it would be a little weird to put giraffe and elephant-shaped crackers out to enjoy with wine and fruit, for example. However, if said crackers were shaped like evergreen trees, nobody would bat an eyelid.

And if there was any doubt that these trees are alluding to Christmas trees in particular, there's a spiel on the packaging that starts with "O Tannenbaum." 

Furthermore, this product flaunts a particularly wintry theme on its packaging, including a fox with a scarf and a rabbit wearing gloves. There's evidence of snow on the ground, and even the songbirds are bundled up with earmuffs and knit caps.


I'm not sure why cheese-flavored tree crackers are particularly seasonal, wintry, or Christmassy, but it works somehow. And indeed they do pair well with a nice Cab. They boast a strong, sharp cheddar flavor, but their texture is relatively thin and delicate. They're buttery to the touch—completely covered in real cheese. They necessitate napkins. And as you can see in the photo above, the depiction of the crackers on the box is pretty close to their actual size.

Unfortunately, about half of our trees were broken at the time of consumption, which might be a bummer if we were concerned with presentation or were attempting to impress guests. But luckily for us, it was just Sonia and I gobbling up the crackers by ourselves after a nice hike with our poorly-behaved pets.

After wolfing down a good portion of the bag, a bright lightbulb appeared over Sonia's head. 

"What is it!?" I exclaimed.

"Tomato soup!" she replied.

She scrambled over to the pantry and parted a row of chicken noodle and lentil and produced a lone can of Progresso Tomato Soup. She held it high above her head and The Hallelujah Chorus mysteriously poured out of each corner of the room as a brilliant, pure white light filled our house, its source unknown.

She proceeded to heat the soup and served it up in two bowls, which were swimming with tree-halves just moments later. And it was heavenly.

Sonia was enthusiastic about the trees from her first bite to her last. She gives them four and a half Christmas stars. I liked them just fine, although I don't think I'd snack on them just by themselves on a regular basis...but I'd never discourage Sonia from keeping some on hand, just in case I get a hankering for a bowl of tomato soup again. Three and a half Christmas stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.