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Showing posts with label vegetarian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegetarian. Show all posts

Monday, March 25, 2013

Trader Joe's Piccolo Panini

So, I get why Sandy and I picked up the box of Trader Joe's Piccolo Panini a few nights ago. We were both in the mood for an easy dinner, and definitely not in the mood to go grocery shopping, yet we felt compelled by the power of our rumbly tummies and empty fridge. Normally, in this kinda situation, the veggie corn dogs and some Trader tots would be high on our list, but we've had that dinner a few times recently, and wanted something different. For whatever reason, this caught our eye, and for the $3.99 for a box of 16, we figured, why not. One can do much worse for a midweek dinner, I suppose.

But I don't exactly get the point of these overall. Now, I'm not that dumb. These are obviously meant more as a snacky hors d'ouevres than an actual dinner dish. I get that. But even in that regard, that kinda fall a little bit short. It's not that they taste terrible, because they don't. It's kinda of everything else.

For a few small bites, the preparation is kinda silly. You have to take them out of the package, let them thaw out for 20 to 25 minutes, bake them for about 15, then let them sit for a few before eating them, leaving a small window of time before they get cold and not as appetizing. Maybe that doesn't sound that bad. But let's talk about that, with the theoretical happenstance you're making these for a shindig at your house. Perhaps you're much different than my wife and I, but the last few minutes before any guests arrive, we're usually shoving plates, pots and random doodads into the dishwasher and tossing all of our dirty socks down to the basement and out of sight. There's not much time to be spared for panini prep time management, assuming we'd want these on the menu.

Plus, kinda the whole point of a panini, at least to me, is having a big ol' oversized sandwich. The piccolo squares are teeny little bites, maybe two midsized nibbles each square. It just doesn't have the same kind of satisfaction. Maybe that sounds like a silly thing to say, in light of the fact we purchased them, knowing what they are and their size and all, but while eating these, we just became that much more aware of that fact.

Buuuuttttt....they tasted okay enough. The bread got nice and reasonably toasted and crispy on the outside, and while the pesto and red pepper spread were nothing special, they weren't terrible by any means either. They made a good enough side dish for some orzo and peas. The panini bits even made a decent enough leftover lunch, even though the bread got noticeably chewier and denser overnight. But all in all, they're just very much in the middle - nothing that bad or too wonderful to say about them. Sandy's reaction summed it up about perfectly when I asked for her opinion: "Mmmmeeehhhhhhhh...". I interpret that as a three. Mark me down for that too.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Piccolo Panini: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Trader Joe's Japanese Style Fried Rice

Apparently edamame and soybeans are the same thing. But I feel better eating "edamame" for some reason. Maybe it's because I always associate them with fine Japanese dining. I associate "soybeans" with Monsanto for some reason, and then I start thinking about genetically-engineered foods and biotechnology, and all that stuff just makes me grimace and not want to eat. Despite the fact that there's a good chance the edamame in this bag had something to do with Monsanto, I will remain willfully ignorant of such facts, and what I don't know won't hurt me.

In the past, we've seen our boy Trader Joe do good things with edamame. And of course, he's done good things with seaweed and tofu, too. So it's no surprise that the taste of this vegan, new age, frou frou hippie stuff is actually shockingly good. Although, we must point out that there wasn't really much tofu in this dish. We didn't see it. We didn't taste it. That doesn't mean it wasn't there. But if it was, there was barely a hint of it. Likewise, there are no chunks or sheets of seaweed, but rather just tiny little flecks of it everywhere. It was almost as if the seaweed was used as a seasoning rather than a main ingredient. But that's just fine with me, because it tasted great.

The edamame beans were plump, green, and happy. And there were lots of carrot slivers throughout the product. The overall texture was really nice. The flavor, though pleasant, was not very strong. To give everything a bit more kick, we added soy sauce and our favorite, Sriracha hot sauce. That made the dish really tasty. Have you noticed I'm on an italics kick lately? I've used italics in every paragraph so far. But that's neither here nor there.

If you want to watch Sonia and I try it for the first time and also get a glimpse of the prepared product outside of the packaging, just click here. Sonia gives this Japanese Fried Rice 4 stars, docking a point mainly for the lack of tofu.  I give it 3.5 stars.


Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.




Friday, March 8, 2013

Trader Joe's Cowboy Caviar

There's a few random things that spring to mind when I think of the product name "Trader Joe's Cowboy Caviar." First, for whatever reason, I can't recall right now what exactly real caviar is, so hold on just a moment...alrighty, well, honestly, that sounds kinda gross. A "cowboy" version of that woulda be even more gross, considering what we know of "Rocky Mountain oysters" and all, so, first, there's some gladness that this isn't something a little more literal. Secondly, there's the vision of actual cowboys eating actual caviar. I've always thought that the only people who eat caviar are people like the Grey Poupon gents, though it seems a little beneath them to randomly stop alongside another car and beg for condiments. So it's tough to think of grizzly, musty old booted cowboys enjoying some fine salt-cured fish eggs. It's a "tough meets classy" juxtaposition that's as comically out of place as Chuck Norris at a tea party (note carefully the capitalization of what I just said).

And third, well, despite the goofy name and all, Sandy and I were pretty glad there's a new salsa sheriff in town for our samplin'. Here's the actual verbatim exchange that transpired last Monday night between the two of us in the salsa/chip department. Unlike other conversations I've let you eavesdrop on, this one is not made up at all.  Me: "Want some chips and salsa?" Her: "Hrrmmmm...nah. There's nothing we haven't had." Me: "Yeah....wait... Cowboy Caviar? What the eff? Let's try it." Her: "Oooooooo I'll find us some chips!!!"

So, how does it stack up? Purdy darn well, amigo. Obviously, from the label and a quick peek at the jar contents, the base of this salsa is comprised of black beans, corn, and red bell peppers. Those just happen to be three main staples in our house that we seemingly never get sick of. There's nary a trace of tomato, except for a little puree that's the base for the chipotle adobo sauce that gets mixed in. Mmm, adobo sauce....that's the primary taste here. It's deep and smoky with a sneaky little kick to it that'll rattle you like a snake in your boot if you're spice-adverse. Despite that, though, you can still taste everythng...the citrus bite from the lime, the little flames of heat courtesy of the jalapenos, even a little sweetness, with the flavor of the beans and corn and peppers still poking through without getting too muddied up. This is certainly tilts towards chunky, with everything in it, but man, it works well. I misplaced the receipt so I can't tell you the exact price offhand, but it's about the price of a typical jar of salsa there, somewhere around $2.49 to $3 or so.

I'm not sure how the jar survived three nights between the two of us. It must be some newfound restraint Sandy and I have, because in the good ol' days, I could see this being polished off in a night. Seems to me the Cowboy Caviar would pair well with most any chip, but it was especially good with the veggie flaxseed tortilla chips we picked up (which may just be the most uncowboy-like ones available. Regardless...). It's a much better, taster spicier and truer salsa than the Corn and Chile Tomato-Less Salsa we tried way back, though Sandy loved that one too because of its lack of, well, tomatoes. This one had her fooled, too. "Four it up!," she exclaimed. Four it up, indeed, and tack on an extra half spoon just because. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cowboy Caviar: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints

It's pretty silly, the mental gymnastics and justifications that Sandy and I routinely do this time of year, and especially this year, when we're going without meats and sweets for a spell. It's part of that four-letter L word I pledged to not go on and on about. I think we've eaten more fake meat products in the past two or so weeks then we have eaten actual meat since the beginning of the year. It's close, at least. As for sweets...Sandy and I routinely have a "Is this or is this not a sweet?" conversation. Banana and oatmeal "cookies" made with just those two ingredients? Not a sweet. Fruit smoothie, made out of fruit? Not a sweet. Dunkin Donuts coffee? Probably, technically speaking, a sweet but uhhhh....nope. Chocolate milk? Yes.* Shamrock shake? Definitely, and sadly, yes. And on and on it goes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints could be considered a sweet, as it is a hard candy and all. But for whatever reason, it hasn't crossed that artificial threshold we've determined. Not a sweet, and therefore, it's okay that we bought this for the buck or so it cost, and okay that I've more or less hoarded as a "Daddy's little helper" stash to get me through the work day.

It probably helps our justification that these gingermints aren't sweet (adjective) at all, really. Nor are they close to minty in a way I'd call anything minty. Nah, these fellas are pretty much straight-up gingery. They're moreso than the cookie butter (which we unwisely left a half jar-full in the pantry to taunt us) but much less than these candied bits o' napalm. It's ginger dore right, with a little bite but without the overkill. Looking over the ingredients, it was interesting to see maple syrup as an ingredient, because I don't taste it that much. If it's there, it's not too potent. Maybe it just helps keep the ginger in check. At least the tapioca doesn't do anything to screw up the flavor like it may have for these cheesesticks.

Since they're vegan, organic, and gluten-free, it's easy to chalk these up to being a crunchy-hippie cousin of an Altoid, because in all other aspects they're pretty similar. A brief skim over ingredients confirms these aren't made by the same company, though. The closest Altoid I can compare them to would be a cinnamon one, but a little less strong (at least in my memory), and of course more gingery than cinnamony. Whatevs. I like 'em. Sandy's neither overly impressed nor unimpressed, so she's going down the middle with a three. I see that and raise another spoon.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Gingermints: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Sandy drank some about a week or so ago after a long training run for her half marathon. I'd call shenanigans on that, but she just ran about eight miles. Dang, girl!    

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Trader Joe's Italian Sausage-Less Sausage

Well, it's been a hot minute or two since our last fake meat review. Nathan tackled the challenging turkey-less turkey back before Thanksgiving, while my last review on the matter was chicken-less chicken tenders....almost a year ago? What!?! That's crazy to me, especially because on the whole, fake meat is one of TJ's biggest strengths, even matching up well to the more famous competition. Don't get wrong, I like nice meat-full meat just as much as any other red-blooded red-headed 'merican, but when there's a healthier, almost-as-delectable option available, I can be inclined to take it. I guess that I've been so busy enjoying the lying-if-read-in-Spanish soy chorizo whenever the fake meat mood hits I've been neglecting other TJ options. Seriously: soy chorizo + black beans + rice + salsa/hot sauce + cheese + chips or tortillas = AMAZING. It's the meal that got me hooked on TJ's. Highly, highly recommended. We're considering stockpiling the soyrizo in case it ever gets discontinued. I thought it did maybe a year ago, and nearly cried tears of sweet, sweet relief when I discovered it was just moved to a different shelf.

Anyways, here's Trader Joe's Italian Sausage-Less Sausage. I'll say this upfront: at a cookout, it'd have a puncher's chance of passing as the real deal. That's a compliment in my book. I think I'd be able to pick it out, but only if someone grilled me about it (ha!). On an unsuspecting consumer, it'd have a 50/50 chance.

It's not the taste that would tip someone off. Think of a typical Italian sausage link, and it'd be pretty close in that regard. And it's not exactly the texture either...sort of. We pan-fried up a pair of links then sliced them to serve in some pasta. They were a little softer then most, and kinda crumbly, but kept mainly intact. Sandy said something to the effect that they weren't as "floppy" as other fake sausage product she's had. They certainly brown and sizzled up in a way pretty close to actual links. I guess, what it boils down to is, whenever Sandy and I have had sausage links over the past year (which has been kinda often), we've been picking up the farmer's market/local meat farm variety, which are big and juicy and very meaty, much more so than the typical grocery store variety. These are decidedly a small step or two below that comparison benchmark. That's not really a knock, and it's not even a fair point in some ways. There's a certain gristliness and juiciness and "essence" that real meat has that soy can never duplicate. That being said, if I had to give up meat completely for whatever reason, these would be a more-than-adequate solution whenever the grill-time hankerin' came.

Regardless of all that, we like them. Sandy's a bit more enthusiastic than me. I think that's at least  partially because the last time we broke out the bulk sausage we have on hand, she trembled a little bit after doing the Weight Watchers calculation (as I should have, too). These lil' fakers tip the scale at about 4 points a link, which is extremely manageable. She went ahead and gave them a four, making slight note of the texture. There's part of me that wonders what the allure is of fake meat - is there a class of vegetarians out there who want the most meat-like non-meat they can find? Is it for people who love actual meat but can't eat it for health reasons? Why do I keep buying it?- I'll never know.  Regardless, this is another win for TJ's if you're into this kinda thing. And $3.49 for a pack of 4 isn't a terrible deal either. I'll go with a 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Italian Sausage-less Sausage: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Monday, February 18, 2013

Trader Joe's Organic Tomato & Roasted Red Pepper Soup

Aside from slipping nasty products like Meatloaf Muffins and Sockeye Salmon Pasta by us once in a while, the meanest trick our friend Trader Joe likes to play on us is discontinuing amazing products like Lemon Gingersnap Ice Cream. TJ's execs clearly aren't reading our blog enough.

If they were, they wouldn't have taken away my beloved Organic Tomato Bisque. It was the perfection of tomato soup, in my self-important opinion. And if it ain't broke, Trader Joe, please don't try to fix it.

Now, I'm not saying this roasted red pepper stuff is bad. It's certainly not. It's just that it's so similar to the tomato bisque, that it's kinda pointless. If it were a slight improvement, I could understand. But it's not. There are no soft lumps of perfectly-stewed tomatoes. And if anything, the tomato flavor is dulled down just a tad. To this product's credit, it does taste slightly of red peppers, but the tomato-pepper combo just doesn't do it for me the way the pure tomato lusciousness did in the bisque.

Now I might just be illogically clinging on to something from the past in the same manner I was repulsed initially by the extended versions of the Lord of the Rings because they weren't exactly the same as the perfection that was the theatrical versions. But in the case with LOTR, each viewing made me like the extended versions more. In the case of this soup, each bowl simply makes me miss the bisque more. Please forgive me for this nerd-tacular comparison.

In summary, I think this soup falls just slightly shy of its potential. While the taste is similar to that of Trader Joe's Organic Tomato Bisque, whose spirit shall live on in the halls of our Pantheon long after its cans are forgotten by the shelves of your local TJ's store, this tomato red pepper soup's flavor is good but not amazing, and its texture is that of traditional creamy tomato soup. But make no mistake, as whiny as this post may sound to you, this soup is still really darn good.

My wife agrees, but she won't dock this product as much as I will. We gave the bisque a perfect score. She'll take away half a star for this soup. I'll have to knock off two full stars.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Trader Joe's Guacamole Kit

This year for Lent, I promise you something. Unlike years past, when I've given up meat or sweets, I will not be endlessly writing about it on here, bugging the living crud out of 90% of you who just want to know my opinion of some fake meat or whatever. If you're really all that  interested in what I'm doing, you can check out my sporadically updated side gig.

This will be my one mention of things here: In addition to some other things, I've made the decision to include at least one raw vegan meal every day into my diet for the next few weeks. Perfect time of the year for that, eh? I'm hoping this just won't mean a salad or baggie of carrot sticks and an apple, although I'll be doing more than enough of that since my super-happy fruit of the earth meals will usually be my lunch during the week at work. Just works better that way for Sandy and I. And I mention that only because that decision to do raw vegan chow is what propelled me to buy Trader Joe's Guacamole Kit. I realize that guacamole is a pretty easy entry into the raw vegan world. It's about as adventurous as I wanted to get until I get "crazy" enough to try some of the tasty-lookin' recipes like this.

Anyways, does this guac kit rock it? Tough to say. Taking a look at it, $3.99 for this isn't exactly a killer deal. Let's compare to buying each part separately. There's two avocados (about a buck each for the good ones - we'll get back to that), a lime and about few garlic cloves (let's say 50 cents for the two), two jalapenos (cheap!), a tomato (let's round up and say 70 cents), and a teeny little onion that I mistook for a rounded garlic bulb at first glance. So that's not quite $4 worth of goods they're selling for $4. It's not a ripoff (there's always a price to pay for convenience) but it's not a steal either.


As for the stars of the carton, the avocados....yeeeeah. I'm not familiar enough with avocado carbon dating to know if mine were a little too old or not quite ripe yet. Regardless, I expect when I buy produce from somewhere, they'd be fine for consumption three days later. These were, but were tough, tough enough that I had to whip out our noisy-as-all-heck food processor (think heavy duty construction zone mixed with a congested snoring Gilbert Gottfried) at almost midnight to chunk them down instead of following through my original plan of fork-mashing them. Thank God I didn't wake up Sandy (granted, she regularly sleeps thru the alarm blaring six inches from her head every morning) or get any complaints from the neighbors. Even after about five minutes in there, there were still a sizable chunk or two that I'll just decide to man up and eat anyways. These avocados were very much unlike the ones TJ's sells separately, which whenever I've bought them have been soft and perfect, and I think a little bit bigger, too.

Everything else was great. The jalapenos were as fresh as the ones I've grown in our garden each summer, and no complaints about anything else. When I finally had a chance to take my taster for a test drive on my self-made guac, it was pretty decent overall. Nice, good kick to it, mostly because I didn't bother de-seeding the peppers, with plenty of lime as well. If I were thinking, I would've left all the tomato and onion and diced goodies out of the food processors, as I like the chunkier varieties, but this was okay enough for my first crack at making guacamole. I didn't measure exactly how much guac this made, but two cups seems to be a fair estimate. It'll be more than enough to dip some veggies in for lunch for the next few days.

I kinda assume the point of the guacamole kit is to try and entice folks who wouldn't be so inclined otherwise to make their own guac. I'm willing to take another crack at it, but next time I do, I honestly won't be buying this particular product again. The price isn't compelling and the quality is too much of a mixed bag. Regardless, I'm not overly dissatisfied, nor am I particularly satisfied. For Golden Spoon time, let's just play this completely down the middle.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Guacamole Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Maybe I would have better luck with one of these: 

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Trader Joe's Kale Chips

There's quite a buzz about these on the interwebs. And no wonder! They're really weird! These aren't the first snacky-veggies TJ's has offered us, but they might be the best. Check out past posts: Inner PeasVeggie Sticks and Seaweed Snacks.

These things are packaged like they're some kind of comic book superheroes. I suppose they're super-snacks. And...they're not "chips," at least not in any traditional sense of the word. But I guess 
"Leafy Green Kale Chunks" just doesn't have the sexy rockstar appeal of "chips." But I mean, they're sort of dry-ish leaves of kale. It's like somebody left out a salad—dressing and all, in a dehydrator somewhere, forgot about it, then re-discovered it a couple days later and decided to eat it anyway. Maybe that's where the superhero theme comes in. This snack was left to dry out and die via nuclear radiation, but instead of dying, it just became an ultra-powered, transcendent mega-meal.

I don't know. But man, the dehydrated salad idea simply doesn't convey how good these are. The nacho flavored dressing is like a really high-quality southwest salad dressing...but dry. And I swear I feel energized when I eat these. They have all kinds of vitamins and minerals. They are super-scrump-dilly. And just so...peculiar!


Let me put it this way: when the extraterrestrial overlords show up and try to incorporate parts of their culture into ours, I wouldn't be surprised if they have us snacking on this stuff. Let's just hope that with their advanced technologies and vast eons of wisdom and experience that they can find a way to bring the cost down. Like way down. Like the $4 a bag price tag on these things is totally their biggest weakness, their kryptonite, if you will. I'd eat these every day if they cost a buck a bag. They make me happy.

4.5 stars from me. Woulda had 5 if they were a tad less expensive. Sonia gives 'em 4.



Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Palak Paneer and Trader Joe's Malabari Paratha

This whole week I've been crazy sick. My wife and I both got hit with what I'm assuming is H2N4, or "warthog fever" as I've been calling it. It's the latest mutation of the swine flu. I figure if the first strain had something to do with swine, then there was a second mutation that might have been named after potbelly pigs or something, and so on, up through boars and such, until they arrive at this horrific version which will logically be named after warthogs. Furthermore, when Sonia and I cough, it rather sounds like the grunting of a wild warthog. So there you have it: warthog fever.

I've been delirious these past five days from a high temperature and lots of medication. I take this generic NyQuil that makes me hallucinate so heavily that I believe that I've fully recovered overnight and then once it wears off, I realize that I'm still sick as a dog. It's a great scam: one becomes so attached to thinking that one is well, that you go ahead and take some more, even if there's little or no evidence that the medication is actually helping you fight off the flu. Er, but anyway, that's all just to say that if this blog post doesn't particularly make sense, it's probably because that cat got my girdle.

Oftentimes when ill, I like to eat spicy foods when I have enough of an appetite, as I find that the spices help clear my sinuses and charge up my body with a little energy and liveliness. Now, I don't keep track of what or how often I eat very well, unlike Russ who wisely keeps a detailed log of his daily intake, but I feel like I ate very little during this sickness. It's possible that I ate multiple meals during some of my NyQuil blackouts and I simply can't recall, however, I would think there would be evidence in the form of dirty plates and crumbs, etc. But again, I digress. All that to say that I was fairly hungry and ready to eat when we heated up these Indian dishes from TJ's.

Even though Mr. Shelly wasn't a huge fan of his most recent product like this, my last Indian dish from Trader Joe's was yummy, as was, incidentally, my last Indian snack from Archer Farms. However, all good international cuisine streaks must come to an end. And come to an end it did. The appearance of the palak paneer is as unappetizing as anything I've ever seen from Trader Joe's. It's a deep green mush, not unlike freshly juiced wheatgrass, but thicker and slightly darker. There are a few chunks of cheese throughout it, but by and large, it looks like...well, you know—something I've vowed not to talk about on this or any other food blog.

The taste is heavily vegetabley. And the "green" flavor as I shall call it overshadows the taste of the cheese bits. It's sort of bitter, although it's also kind of hard to describe, because it is a unique bitterness, if that makes any sense. There are some Indian spices, which did help clear my head for a moment, but they're not strong enough to make this dish worth trying simply out of love for hot Indian spices. Now, it might be the medication talking, but green sadness always makes the heart get grumpy.

Instead of eating this paneer with naan bread, we ate it with malabari paratha—an Indian food I've never heard of before. They're like little Indian pancakes. I really can't complain about these too much, but it's hard to separate them from the paneer, which I was definitely not a fan of. We cooked the paratha on the stove, and they came out rather oily...but maybe that's because we used too much oil when we pan fried them...? I didn't think we used that much, but who knows. In the state that Sonia and I have been in, it's a wonder we didn't pan fry them in TheraFlu. They're soft, white, and you can tear pieces off to dip in your paneer or whatever you've got. They don't have a whole lot of flavor, but I don't think they're meant to be a stand-alone item. 

Sonia gives 2 stars to the palak paneer. I'll be merciful and give it 2.5. Sonia gives 3.5 stars to the paratha, and I give it 3. It's been a sick, foggy week people, so everybody keep track of the sunshine, because the leprechauns are on the go this year.

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Palak Paneer. 
Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Malabari Paratha. 
Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.


Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Trader Joe's Aloo Chaat Kati Pouches

Anything I can say about Hot Pockets, Jim Gaffigan has already said much better. As if I needed to remind myself, for whatever reason, a few months ago I was at Target and saw some pretzel/turkey/bacon/cheese montrosity that somehow looked, well, "appealing" isn't exactly the right word. It was more a word that somehow means "If such a thing as tasty Hot Pocket is possible, this would be it." Nope. Fail. Gross. Pretty much the cheese's fault. Maybe Archer Farms could take a better crack at it.

Anyways, despite the name of this particular product being Trader Joe's Aloo Chaat Kati Pouches, I will refer to them the rest of this post as being Trader Joe's Indian Hot Pockets, because you cannot tell me that they're not. They even come with crisping sleeves. They even call them "crisping sleeves." This is a Hot Pocket, through and through.

And, in stark contrast to most of our TJ's Indian food experiences whether current or past, they're a major disappointment. Chief reason: Look at the picture on the box. Looks like crispy, buttery, samosa-inspired crusty-carb incarnation. Then look at this picture, taken of my Indian Hot Pocket, after a few strategically placed bites:


Looks nothing alike. Furthermore, this particular crust? Uggggggggh. What comes to mind is stale Chuck E Cheese pizza crust flattened via steamroller. It's tough and chewy and not even remotely crusty. It's nasty. Granted, it could be better if baked, but I'm not going to eat these at home where I'm trying my best to eat meals without barcodes.

The rest of the filling is okay, I guess. To be honest, I wasn't much of a fan. Between my two IHPs there were about three discernible chickpeas, a whole bunch of mush, some typical Indian spices, nothing that really said "chaat masala" or "tamarind chutney" to me, and whole bunch of big ol' chunks of onions. Now, I like onions, quite a bit actually, but there were too many of them and too little of the other stuff. It was enough that my breath literally and tangibly felt funny until I could come home and brush. Plenty hearty and filling, though. It wasn't enough to dissuade me from being interested in an aloo chaat dish the next time I go to an Indian restaurant, especially if they look something like this, but I won't be running back to these, especially after gandering at the nutritional info. Forgive the Frankenstein Photoshop job, it's been years since I've messed with it.


Wisely, Sandy avoided these. Sometimes she misses something great, but other times she's absolutely right. I cannot even imagine her reaction if she tried one of these, but if the uncrusty crust wouldn't turn her off completely, the filling would. Fortunately, I made a call to the bullpen, and one of our Facebook fans, Martha, gave us a pretty complete rundown, which I'll copy here in its entirety: "I have tried them. The filling is delicious (and vegetarian, for the person who was asking). The crust, however, leaves a bit to be desired. I wanted the pastry to be delicate and buttery like a samosa, because that's how it looks on the box, but it's actually more like the crust on a hot pocket. If it had a better crust it would be an 8 or 9, but I have to give it a 5. Too bad." So I read that as her giving it a 2.5. That's more generosity than I can spare. There's just not that much good I can say here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Indian Hot Pockets...err, Aloo Chaat Kati Pouches: 3.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons


Sunday, January 13, 2013

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Punjab Choley

For $1.99, there's not much more you could ask for from this product. It's super simple to store: no refrigeration or freezing necessary. "Put it in the pantry with your cupcakes," to quote Simon and Garfunkel...and to date myself terribly. It's very easy to prepare: just microwave or boil for a matter of minutes. And it's delicious. The smell of Indian curry will knock you over before you even taste it.

It's spicy, hot, flavorful, and very easy to serve, too. They recommend it with naan bread, pita, or basmati rice. Lacking any of those, we served it with brown rice, and it tasted delicious with that as well. If you'd like to watch us trying it for the very first time, or if you'd like to hear my really bad Indian accent, check out the YouTube clip here. You'll also get a very nice close up shot of the product as it looks outside the packaging, as several readers have been requesting.

It's not quite a main-course dish like the Chicken Tikka Masala or Lamb Vindaloo, but it makes a tasty, filling appetizer. It's chock full of chick peas, and there are little vegetable bits, and it all comes covered in an amazing Indian curry sauce. I did get one or two bites with a tiny piece of something rather crunchy, which turned me off slightly. Sonia thinks it was a chunk of Indian chili pepper, though it didn't seem hot enough to be that. It was almost like a bit of celery—which wouldn't have been bad at all if I had been expecting it. Otherwise, the texture is smooth throughout, and the chick peas taste and feel fresher than I'd expect them to.

I can't really think of any other complaints. Sonia loved it. We ate the whole package very quickly, and enjoyed every bite. We both give it 4 out of 5 stars.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.



Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Trader Joe's Crunchy Black & White Rice Rolls

I can already see all of the log-term readers of this blog rolling your eyes as I type this, but I'm going to try and eat healthier, and this time, I really, truly, honestly mean it. Scout's honor. Cross my heart and hope to (not) die. And I hear you thinking inside your head, "Oh, that's some New Year's Resolution that he'll give up on any day now, and before we know it, Ol' Chubbo will be back to doing stuff like writing a double review of chocolate potato chips AND pumpkin cheesecake in no time flat." Welllll....normally you'd probably be right. This time is different, though, I swear. I've decided to be a lot more intentional about food, in a lot of different ways, and if you're interested in such endeavors, scope out my new side-blog, Gruel Intentions. That'll keep me accountable, you'll see!

It's these new habits that both Sandy and I are trying to form that led us to our purchase of Trader Joe's Crunchy Black & White Rice Rolls. We saw them at the checkout lane, which was been the previous snagging hotspot for many fine grabs all chocolatey and sweet. Not this time.

And they're not bad. They're less like rice cakes but more like puffed rice. That's maybe a fine distinction to draw, but, well, there it is. I associate rice cakes with being more Styrofoam-y than puffed rice. Unlike rice cakes, these taste and feel 100% biodegradable. Other than that, there's not too much that's exactly special about them. I'm kind of skeptical of the claim of black rice because 1) I've never heard of black rice before 2) all of the roll is the same rice-y white and 3) black rice is one extra consonant away from being one of things I hate the most in the entire world and make a habit of trying to avoid, however impossible at times. It's a pretty uniform stick that's crunchy and munchy and a little sweet, and good enough plain, although some of my favorite TJ's peanut butter would be absolutely killer on it (killer, as in tasty, not in killer, as in still recalled because of salmonella. Sad panda).

Sandy's enamored with them. "They're crunchy and sweet, and not that bad for you at all!" she says. Our Weght Watcher app informs us that one of these is only one WW point. That's not bad for a light snack on the go. She's going almost all out with a 4.5. Me? I kinda wish they had some more flavor, or perhaps some variety - like, say, have a wasabi seaweed variety? Why not? Also, I kinda wish the dimensions of these were a little smaller, as they're way too big to take a full bite of, at least for me. No matter. I like them just enough to say a 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crunchy Black & White Rice Rolls: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Trader Joe's Vegetable Bird's Nests

Whenever Sonia and I see something that we've never heard of before in the aisles of Trader Joe's, we make a beeline for it. Inevitably, one of us will think it sounds delicious and the other will turn up their nose. In this case, I was the more interested party. 

Neither of us had ever heard of a food called a "bird's nest" before, but TJ's has done magical things with veggie-based dishes in the past, so I figured it was worth the gamble.

I'm a fan of tempura-anything. I've had scrumptious vegetable tempura from a number of Japanese restaurants, not to mention some excellent meat and seafood tempura's as well. We've reviewed one other tempura dish from TJ's, which got a low-ish score, although this extraordinarily unique vegetable tempura concoction redeems Trader Joe's reputation with tempura completely, at least in my book.

If you've had vegetable tempura before, you'll know that it's usually just one tempura-ized vegetable at a time. In this case it's several, including onions, which I've never seen in the form of tempura before. But I think it's the onions that really make this dish extra flavorful...just don't kiss anybody right after eating it. There are also carrots, kale, and of course, tempura batter. It's a delicious combination that winds up resembling the conglomeration of twigs, strings, and mud in a typical bird's nest. And if that comparison isn't very appetizing, just try the product, and you'll quickly forget about any negative images in your mind.

To add to the taste-tacularity, the dipping sauce is simply brilliant. It's a simple soy sauce, but with just enough sweetness and savoriness to make it seem like a gourmet chef's original creation. It comes right in the package with the bird's nests, and there's plenty of it.

One complaint: it's greasy. The nutrition info makes it seem relatively lean and low-calorie, but for crying out loud they claim that one piece is the recommended serving size! Sonia and I each ate 4 within minutes of pulling them out of the oven. If you're like us, you'll put away more than half your RDA for fat before you even have time to think. There's just something about these things that make them melt in your mouth and slide right down into your tummy. If we had bought two packages instead of just one, we would have immediately thrown the second one into the oven right after finishing the first. For the sake of my gut, I'm glad we didn't.

But other than the fattiness, I can't recommend this product enough. It was a pleasant surprise for both of us. Just click here to watch Sonia and I tasting it for the very first time.

I give it 4.5 stars. Sonia does too.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10 stars.



Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Trader Joe's Sweet Corn Tamales

So, a few weeks ago, I started a new job. It's closer to home, it's less stress, and it pays a lot more. Those are all good things. That's not to say that the place isn't a little bit of an unusual environment. Walk inside and probably the first thing you'd notice is the giant indoor walk-thru arboretum, and if you happen to glance off to the side, you can see the little pond with picnic tables around it. That's pretty sweet. And there's a pretty decent little employee cafe inside with made-to-order sandwiches and whatnot. My previous job didn't have any of that, not even the cafe. If you wanted a sandwich, it had to come from a vending machine. And that was at a flagship, otherwise state-of-the-art facility. Oh, and their microwaves sucked. My new job even has the same microwave that I own, and it's a good one. What they lack, though, is almost comical. There's no sink or hot water tap in almost any of the break rooms, making my routine morning French Press o' coffee a tougher task. But get this - they don't even have a freezer where people can store their frozen meals. There's none. There's a fridge, though, which keeps most lunches semi-frozen enough until lunch. You'd figure, if they can stock a pond and have some indoor trees that require upkeep every two weeks, there'd be a freezer somewhere. Maybe that's just me.

I mention all this because no matter where I work, I gotta eat lunch, and for the longest time, Trader Joe's tamales have been a staple of my noontime feasting. They're easy to make, they're inexpensive, and as Nathan pointed out a while ago, they're surprisingly good. In Pittsburgh, at least, the Sweet Corn Tamales are a new option, which I was only too glad to pick up, as the chicken, cheese and beef ones get a little old after a while.

They're...okay. Not great, but not bad, either. I'm not sure if the tamales themselves or my work's lack of freezer-hood are to blame, but they're kinda a weird texture, at least in my experience. It's definitely a different masa than the other types, which I could tell before even tasting due to its lighter color and softer, kinda soggier texture. A lot of folks on our Facebook page said to be sure to place a wet paper towel over them while nuking, lest they get all dried out. I didn't, because it's impossible to get to a sink without going to the bathroom where I work, and yet, after three minutes in the microwave, they're pretty soggy still. I'll be willing to split the blame.

As for taste, the corn masa exterior tastes like good sweet ol' cornbread, which I'm all about. Inside there's a respectable amount of fresh-ish sweet corn and little green chiles. The chiles don't add much (if any) heat, and the manchega cheese (which is fairly mild anyways) isn't all that prevalent, so overall, these tamales just taste like sweet, semi-chunky cornbread. Some slightly spicier chiles, and some queso mas fuerte, and they'd be much better. As is, they'll probably make my semi-regular lunch rotation, but I think that's more a function of TJ's small cheap lunchworthy entrees than anythng else.

Sandy doesn't really like tamales based chiefly on texture. We've been to Mexico and have eaten some fairly authentic ones, and even then, the masa shell makes her gag a little. So, in fairness and to avoid unilateral Golden Spoonage awarding, I asked our Facebook page what they thought about them. Overall, it was a bit of a mixed bag, ranging from amorous declarations ("I totally love these!" says Lindsey; "I eat them all the time and they rock!" says Kristine) to utter contempt ("I love tamales...these disappointed on all fronts" says Karen), with most folks in the middle. The average score that peeps gave them was about a 2.5 to 3, which seems about right. I'm not utterly opposed to them, but I definitely like the chicken and cheese ones much better. So, it's a 2.5 or 3 from me as well.      

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Corn Tamales: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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P.S. - I completely whiffed on snapping a picture of the nutritional info for these. I'll add it the next time I buy'em.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Tots

Back on Thanksgiving, Sandy and I decided to try and give sweet Lil' Baby M a sweet little treat. At a little over 4 months old, she's being staring at us pretty intently whenever we've been eating or drinking something*, so we decided that maybe she was ready to try her first bite of "real people food." So, Sandy scooped up a little bite of our baked sweet potatoes, mixed in a little mama milk, and mashed it up and plopped into Lil' Baby M's mouth. I, of course, had our de facto video recorder (read: iPhone) running to preserve the moment for all of time. And her reaction? Well, to ask that question assumes that she had one. She just kinda looked and blinked and swished it around and spit some up and might have managed to swallow a little, all with a completely blank, pretty uninterested expression on her little face.** Guess she ain't ready yet.

And I'm pretty sure her reaction would have been exactly the same if her first bite would have instead been a Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Tot, because, well, that was pretty much ours when we had them a few nights ago. Minus the spit up, of course.

It's not the taste that doesn't work. They're pretty legitimate sweet potato mini-nuggets. No real problem there. It's more the texture. You know how a tater tot is supposed to be - crispy on the outside, kinda soft/kinda firm in the middle, and a little greasy too? Indeed, TJ's makes some freakin' excellent ones that are perfect right from the oven. These...are more like baked mush. Anything purporting to be a tater tot cannot simply be a dollop of potato mush, with the outside being slightly less mushy mush. Doesn't work. And that was even after baking them for a little beyond the 35-40 minutes the instructions give for a crunchy tater barrel. I think to get anything resembling a crispiness or a crunchiness we would have had to flat-out blacken these suckers.

That's part of the sweet potato curse. Kinda like salty/chocolate combos, or stuff made with whole grain, or (for my taste) wheat beers, there's a balance that has to be struck. They can be absolutely great, but if not done well, it doesn't work. A little unlike those examples, sweet potatoes almost always taste great, but texturally they either work very well (like these frites) or not at all (look at these gnocchi! Ugh). I'm not sure what really separates them from their regular cousins in that regard - I guess it's something that has to do with the additional natural sugars softening them up during preparation.       

Anyways, out of our veggie corn dog and tater tot dinner, these were the absolute disappointment. "They're basically like a baked version of the gnocchi," Sandy said. Oooh, that's a deep insult. She gave them a two, based solely on the texture. I'll be a little more generous than I might otherwise and say a three.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Tots: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*She's the most interested whenever we drink a beer. I guess she likes what's in her bottle so much she wonders what's in ours. I don't know how to feel about this.
**We have so many nicknames for her. "Little Face" is one that Sandy came up with. I wish I had veto rights over nicknames, like what we granted each other when discussing actual names, 'cause man, I hate that one.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Trader Joe's Turkey-Less Stuffed Roast with Gravy

I've eaten plenty of veggie burgers in my day. I've had delicious meatless chicken nuggets. And I love plenty of vegetarian dishes. But I've never had tofurkey, and I've certainly never had a vegetarian Thanksgiving before. So, like many of you, I was thoroughly skeptical about this Turkey-less Roast. Especially with a price tag of approximately $10 per package, it's a bit of an investment just to find out whether it's edible or not. That's why Sonia and I took the risk. So you don't have to. You may thank us in the comments below.

This past week, we had a bit of a pre-Thanksgiving, just the two of us. And we decided to take one for the team and feast on this forgery of a fowl from TJ's. We grazed on this goofy gobbler. We bit down on a bogus bird. We tasted a tricky turkey. But honestly, it wasn't bad at all. I think it's worth the cost. I think most vegetarians can go ahead and dive right in. My guess is that you'll love it. Does it taste exactly like turkey? No. So you red-blooded, meat-lovin' Archie Bunker types might want to have some dead bird on stand-by just in case. But really, overall, I'm diggin' it. The stuffing was great, the gravy was delicious. The soy-based fake turkey wasn't bad, but I'll be honest: the imitation beef and chicken dishes I've had would fool me way before this stuff would. It's hearty enough to fool your tummy into thinking that you've eaten something meatful, but not quite succulent enough to trick the taste buds. Texture-wise, it's a tad firmer than turkey meat, and there's a sort of crust that forms on the outside of the roast that fails to emulate real turkey. Taste-wise, it's a bit more beany. All in all, it's a decent approximation of traditional turkey, but it's not a dead ringer for the real thing.

Sonia pointed out that the product was a bit too rich with rosemary. The herb was over-represented in the roast for sure, but it didn't bother me quite as much as Sonia. However, she raved about the stuffing and gravy even more than I did, but agreed that the turkey-less turkey was the weakest element of the meal. She thought the texture was reminiscent of firmer-than-usual pĆ¢tĆ©, and added that when reheated, it got very dry on the sides.

Despite a few weaknesses, our final verdict is a thumbs-up. The price tag is hefty, but there're at least 4 good servings in there. (The label says 6, but you know how they exaggerate). It's not going to replace a real turkey at my family's Thanksgiving dinner this year, but I wouldn't be completely heartbroken if it did. 4 stars from Sonia. 3.5 from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.



Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Trader Joe's Chunky Minestrone Soup

This soup's got big chunks of vegetables and spiral-type noodles. It's hearty. The tomato-based broth is delicious, but not as much as TJ's Tomato Bisque which, I'm told, has been discontinued. The minestrone broth has nearly as much flavor, but not half of the rich texture of the bisque. For those of you who've not tried Trader Joe's Tomato Bisque, and sadly may never do so, unless Trader Joe hears our cries of re-continuation, it was simply the best tomato-based broth I've ever had. By far. But this minestrone broth might take a distant second place, which, in the grand scheme of things, is still really darn good.

In addition to the silver-medal broth, there're thick pieces of swirly, carb-rich, rotini-esque pasta-things, carrots, green beans, peas, bits of cabbage, lima beans, celery, and potato, among other things, at least according to the packaging. My wife and I didn't notice some of the ingredients mentioned on the can, including bell peppers and leeks, but that doesn't mean they weren't there. We're occasionally not-so-observant, especially on a Sunday evening right before the beginning of a long workweek.

This soup is vegetarian. And, well, for vegetarians, that's of course good news. But for us omnivores, it's an area for potential improvement. A touch of beef could have made this side dish a bit more like a meal. I guess honest-to-goodness traditional minestrone doesn't necessarily have meat in it, but experimentation is a good thing sometimes. And, as TJ's has done in the past with other products, it couldn't hurt to offer both meatless and meatful options. 

Sonia would like to give this soup a 4, stating that "It's really hearty and tasty, especially for being vegetarian. It's better than Progresso and most brands." Like me, she does wish that it had a bit of meat, though. I'll give it 3.5 stars. It's on the chunkier, heartier side of meatlessness.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Trader Joe's Roasted Coconut Chips

Since Hurricane Sandy paid us a visit this week, knocked over some trees in our neighborhood here in the Philly suburbs, and took away our power from Monday night into Tuesday morning, we've been thinking a lot about her Caribbean origins. Her Caribbean origins made us think about coconut. And our thoughts of coconut led to our purchase of a bag of Trader Joe's Roasted Coconut Chips.

It's mature coconuts soaked in young coconut juice. The best of both worlds. No need to choose experience over youth or vice versa. I'm pretty sure young coconuts are greenish and old coconuts are brownish, but other than that, I don't think I could tell you much about them. But I've always liked coconuts and coconut-flavored things, and this bag of snackaliciousness is no exception.

They're satisfyingly sweet, and they're big enough to treat them like bite-size snack chips, yet small enough to use them as toppings on cakes, ice cream, pudding, or what have you. At $1.99 for a bag, I'd say they were a pretty good value. If you're a fan of coconut, go ahead and shell out the 2 bones for something that I think could very well find itself appearing regularly on your TJ's shopping list.

They have a similar texture to that of the shredded coconut bits that we all know and love—the kind that are used as toppings on cakes and other desserts, but these "chips" have properties similar to other chips. They're flat and extremely crispy. They crunch when you eat them, and they have significantly more surface area than a bit of shredded coconut. 

Sonia gives them a score of 4 stars. She wishes the bag were larger, but other than that, she was quite pleased. I agree that in this case, more would have been better, but this relatively healthy snack was tasty enough to garner 4 and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Friday, October 26, 2012

The I Love Trader Joe's Vegetarian Cookbook


A while back, we took a look at The I Love Trader Joe's College Cookbook. And this year, we were able to take a look at another book in the same series from Ulysses Press, The I Love Trader Joes Vegetarian Cookbook By Holechek, Kris.

Although Sonia and I have often flirted with the idea of going vegetarian, we've never fully committed to the conversion. But we still do an occasional "Meatless Monday" and often enjoy vegetarian dishes, especially from Trader Joe's. As most of you know, TJ's has a pretty good selection of vegetarian items, some of which are very unique and difficult to find elsewhere.

This cookbook not only takes full advantage of the wide spectrum of vegetarian options from Trader Joe's and Ms. Peters' extensive knowledge of them, but it offers 150 ways of combining them that I wouldn't have thought of in a million years—and each recipe, if not already vegan, has a fully-vegan alternate version included.

This cookbook gets creative. One of the recipes takes Trader Joe's Potato Tots and turns them into Texas-style vegan nachos—er, excuse me, "Totchos." Even with limited time and money, there are plenty of simple recipes in here. The three bean salad, pictured right, is delicious! (Though, I must admit, we didn't pickle our onions). But had we chosen to pickle them, there's a recipe for that in the book, too!

Featuring casseroles, beverages, soups, desserts, and more, The I Love Trader Joe's Vegetarian Cookbook flaunts dishes for every occasion—dishes tasty enough not just for vegans and vegetarians, but for your average, everyday omnivores as well.

To learn about the author, to see more mouthwatering pics of her fantastic vegetarian fare, or for some sneak-peek recipes from the book, check out her blog, Nom! Nom! Nom! To order the book from amazon.com, just click here! It's the perfect gift for all of the vegetarians, vegans, and fans of Trader Joe's in your life.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Trader Joe's Wasabi Roasted Seaweed Snack

At times, I've gone out for sushi just because I had a craving for wasabi. And sushi was the only socially-acceptable thing I could think of to eat with it. I don't mess with those ginger leaves, I just put a nice little dollop of wasabi on each slice of my spicy tuna roll and go to town, using chopsticks, of course.

I realize I could buy wasabi, keep it in my fridge, and try it on everything from ham sandwiches to pizza, but somehow I think most of those experiments would fail. It might succeed on certain Asian-inspired dishes, but having it in my fridge would take some of the specialness away from it. Wasabi peas are fun, exotic snacks to munch on from time to time (I'm pretty sure the first time I saw them was at Trader Joe's) but the novelty wears off quickly and I tire of their taste after just one bag or so.

Enter Trader Joe's Wasabi Roasted Seaweed Snack. Many moons ago, we reviewed Trader Joe's Original Roasted Seaweed Snack. This stuff is basically the same thing—but wasabified. And they didn't skimp on the wasabi. These snack sheets of seaweed have a nice, sinus-clearing kick. Wrap up some rice for a delicious and unique (yet simple and cheap) meal. They're vegan and they're gluten-free. They're salty and they're spicy. With or without something wrapped up inside them, they make a wonderful break from the norm.

At 60 calories per package they won't wreck your diet, either. And I'm willing to bet wasabi raises your metabolism, too. Sonia isn't a huge fan of wasabi. It's a far cry from the Mexican chile-based spices she's used to. The plain seaweed snack got 4 stars from each of us. Sonia will knock this version half a star down, and I'll bump it half a star up. But it will still wind up with the same score:

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.