Trader Joe's Enchilada Sauce

Okay, for at least one post, I'm done with super-long fancy named products. I needed something quiet, unassuming, and ego-less (it's tiring to type them out, making sure words are in the right order and whatnot), and Trader Joe's Enchilada Sauce is about the simplest, most humbly named product I could scrum up. They didn't even go for the Trader Jose name to market it under, but TJ"s did opt for ALL CAPS in its labeling design. Gotta do something, I guess.

Anyways, enchilada sauce. Mmm. It's no secret that Sandy and I love Mexican food, or at the very least bastardized Americanized versions of Mexican fare. We've been to the country twice, and while eating some terrific authentic cuisine in remote mountain villages and small mom-and-pop storefront shops in Mexico City (i.e., when we didn't go to Pizza Hut and Starbucks), we've also had some, well ... not to sound ungracious, but sometimes tortillas with rice were the most viable option. That's kind of like going to Italy and eating plain spaghetti noodles, or Ben and Jerry's and getting a vanilla in a dish, no cone. In a lot of ways, you're missing out on something potentially life-alteringly good, but there's just something to be said for the safe option if the other choices are unfamiliar. (Editor's note: This is a horrible analogy. Everything Ben and Jerry's makes is wonderful, and if you go to Italy and eat plain pasta, I will smack you. Just pretend being presented with a bowl of very fresh-smelling cow tripe and a platter of tortillas and rice. Yeah, thought so). That's why we like our Americanized Mexican-style food - it's Mexican enough to delude us into thinking it actually is, while still being tailored much closer to our tastes and preferences.

TJ's Enchilada Sauce is kind of like that. Don't get me wrong, it's good stuff. It's thick, a little goopy, I'd almost say creamy except it isn't, but it invokes creaminess in some way I can't quite explain. The reddish-orange fiery color gives off some visual cues that this might be some pretty spicy stuff. Strangely, no artificial colors are listed in its ingredients. Well, it has a good kick, and like any good meal-time edible accessory, it does its job - namely, it adds to and accentuates flavor without much, if any, subtraction. I used to love overly spicy sauces and spices until I realized how much of the time their heat masked the inherent good taste of the food I used them on. This sauce doesn't - it's not until you've had the first bite or two that you begin to experience the smoky, slightly heated sensation it gives in the back of your throat, but that's where it stays, leaving your tongue and taste buds free to sink into the actual dish. That's the cumin and cayenne doing what they ought - to be present, but not to interfere. We (well, okay, Sandy) made some pretty basic enchiladas with tortillas, black beans, soy chorizo, Mexican shredded cheese and the sauce to share with my brother and his girlfriend for lunch on Sunday, and it was fantastic. The leftover enchiladas were nearly as good reheated for my lunch today. Again, stupid work microwave.

But how good is the sauce really? How authentic, or at least how inspired? I didn't even consider that question until I asked Sandy for her Golden Spoon ranking. I was all ready to give it a four, maybe more (yes, sometimes I weight my grade based on Sandy's), and in a very wise moment, she said, "Well, it's good, but we have nothing to compare it to. I don't think we've ever had actual enchiladas before." I did a mental inventory, and she's probably right ... no, not probably, she is. I married myself one smart cookie. I probably don't know what enchilada sauce is supposed to taste like, and without reference it's somewhat tough to put it into proper perspective.

Of course, will that being the case for us, it's probably the case for a lot of Trader Joe consumers, and I'd imagine many if not most similarly palate-experienced Americans would overall be fairly satisfied with the enchilada sauce. The heat might be a little much for some sissies and little girls ... go eat your tortillas and rice then. Sandy and I definitely enjoy it - we actually had it for the first time about a month ago, and in anticipation of our Sunday lunch, we got two bottles to make sure we'd have some on hand for our next Tex Mex culinary romp. Some benefit of the doubt is involved, but Sandy gave it a three and a half. All things considered, that's a pretty fair grade, and since she blinded me with science in giving her assessment, I feel compelled to concur. As I said, una chica inteligente.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Whole Grain Hard Pretzel Sticks

Okay, let me cut to the chase here:

These SUCK. Do NOT, under circumstance, get these. Whole grain pretzel sticks look like they might be a good premise, a good healthy snack. Well, they might be healthy, but they are horrible, horrendous, and just plain disgusting.

How bad are they? If pretzels were Willie Mays, these would be wearing a Mets uniform. If they were Sly Stallone, these guys would be "starring" alongside Dolly Parton in "Rhinestone." If they were the Beatles, ... well, let's just say Yoko Ono would be involved. These pretzels take something so good, so pure and enjoyable, and turn it into crap.

I mean, I love pretzels. Any kind of pretzel - sticks, rods, nuggets, those little grid-like guys, soft, extra dark, splits, sourdough, honey wheat, soft pretzels, flavored bits and pieces, pretzel buns, anything remotely pretzel-like. I went through high school eating two soft pretzels for lunch everyday (well, except taco day, okay). Sandy made awesome homemade soft pretzels a few days ago that once I polished them off I was begging for more. They are definitely one of my favorite snack food groups, partly because they're healthy compared to chips and cheesy doodles, and also because they're just good.

And these guys ... blah. I tried to like them. I really did. I wanted to like them. But there's nothing redeeming about them. They're bland, tasteless sticks of particle board. They're sparingly salted, which is okay, but there's no flavor to them otherwise, except burned. I took a look inside a stick I halfway crunched, and there's an orange-brownish ring surrounding a teeny white core. So they are just overbaked - I guess maybe that's to help them boast about their claim to be "hard", but they're really not - they're really not any more crunchy than any other pretzel stick. But they are much drier, which makes all the saw dust they leave in your mouth much trickier to swallow. After only two or three I needed a drink to literally wash them down.

I guess it's part of the whole grain curse. Whole grain foods, when made right, taste wonderful and nutty and delicious and help fill you up healthfully. But when made wrong ... man, I don't care how good they might be for you if they don't taste good. The marginal health benefits don't outweigh the taste experience for me. And these pretzels are about the best example I can think of for this.

I had Sandy try one. She munched down half a stick, made a face, went to the fridge and got out a jar of peanut butter to dip the other half in. That sounds like an epoxy recipe to me. "They're better with something," she said. I can buy that, but then that pretty much defeats the whole purpose of having a healthy snack. It's like making broccoli to eat healthy but dumping molten Velveeta on it - having to add something unhealthy to make an otherwise good-for-you food edible seems counterproductive and deceptive.

Anyways, I cannot find anything good about them. I considered returning them to the store, but maybe I'll save them for our dog when we run out of his treats. He wouldn't know the difference. Sandy is a little more forgiving than me, and she said she'd give them a two, "maybe a three," so that sounds like a two-and-a-half to me. Well, that's all they're gonna get. Absolute zero from me.

Bottom line: 2.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Really Expensive Authentic Handcrafted Chicken Burritos

Work lunches have always been a little tricky for me. I don't want to go out and spend $5 or $10 every day on lunch. We also rarely have leftovers to pack, and I don't plan ahead to pack a meal at night, nor do I ever wake up with enough time to make a sandwich or anything in the morning. So generally this leaves me with options that are quick to grab as I run out the door, and that are easily prepared at the typical work lunch room (sink, fridge/freezer and microwave bank), and ideally cheap. By default, most weeks this has meant stocking up on Chef Boyardee goods with the pull-tab can lids ... mmm, tasty. Not. Coworkers openly mock me for it - "Hey, you got dinosaurs or ABCs today?" - as they chomp down on their delivery pizza and wings (coincidentally, these same ones complain a lot about "never having money" ... hmmm). A man's gotta eat, but after so many cans of mini-ravioli, you gotta find some other options too.

Fortunately, Trader Joe's seems to have some possibilities worth exploring.

One of the first canned pasta alternatives I stumbled upon were his Really Expensive Authentic Handcrafted Chicken Burritos (REAHCBs). They appealed to me for a few different reasons. First off, I love burritos and nearly everything about them - tortillas, meat, beans, cheese, whatever you can fill them with, and wrap it all up - delicious and vaguely Mexican, and I love any Mexican food that doesn't include cow stomach. Secondly, the directions seemed pretty short and simple to make - keep frozen, unwrap when you're ready to eat, cover them with a paper towel, and nuke 'em for a couple minutes. Quick and easy enough for a workplace meal. Thirdly, well, I didn't realize it until I started busting them out, but as a work place food, they look pretty impressive. One of the middle-aged ladies in the lunch room asked where I got them - "they look too good to be from the vending machine," she said. Judging by the look on her face, I could have probably told her they were from the Sharper Image and she would have believed me. As the guy previously most famous in the lunchroom for an unnatural obsession with the Chef, it felt good to have some recognition (however fleeting) as having the Cadillac of microwavable meals. Their pretty impressive name certainly helped.

Well, overall the burritos are pretty decent, but also somewhat tough to get a reliable gauge on through no fault of their own. I blame the work microwaves. The directions say to defrost for two minutes, then go on high for a minute - yeah, show me a work microwave that can you can trust to do just that. There's not even a defrost setting on ours, so I resorted to heating on high for about four or five minutes. The result was a burrito alternating between containing molten hot bean-y magma scorching the inside of my mouth and literal ice chunks which served as relief. The tortilla itself got a little chewy in the process too. But that's CVS's fault, not Trader Joe's, I think.

Taste-wise, the REAHCBs work for a lunch option. The filling is mostly typical bean filling with dark meat chicken chunks. It's flavored with some tomato, onion, and typical spices which give it a little kick, but certainly not taste bud overkill. When it comes to texture, I'd prefer if there were some whole beans or the occasional vegetable chunk in there to mix it up a bit. The tortilla is a decent flour one, but nothing terribly special either.

They're certainly not Really Expensive (I think they were $2.49 for the package) and depending on your appetite they can make one or two lunches. As for Authentic ... well, that can be a relative term. They're not nearly as "authentic" (or for that matter, "handcrafted") as some of the most delicious burritos and related Mexican food I've had in Mexican mountain villages where the women woke up at 4 a.m. to grind the corn and the chickens were clucking around three hours before being served up. But of course, that's not what I could expect either, so I won't hold it against them. Just that Trader Joe character can get a little boastful at times, that's all. At least he wasn't stretching the truth when it came to the "Chicken" and "Burrito" part.

I'll give them a little bit of the benefit of the doubt. With a better preparation method, I'm sure they'd be a little bit better, and I'm somewhat indecisive between giving a 3 and a 3.5 for them. But since Sandy hasn't had them (they have that killer word "tomato" prominently displayed), I'm solely responsible for their grading, so I'll give them one of each.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's World's Puffiest Sour Cream and Onion Corn Puffs

Hey everybody! Sorry for the extended break ... just a few days after the latest post, family Christmas celebrations kicked into high gear, and in my family that means lots and lots of food, homemade, nonstop. I'm talking hundreds of cookies, cheesebread, Swedish tea ring, pork roast, mashed potatoes, ham, mac and cheese, cheese omelets, etc. All that good I thought I was doing at the gym went down the tube (kinda literally!). Mix that in with a few days of recovery time, a little rest for the taste buds, and finally I feel like I can make honest reviews again. No offense to Trader Joe, but there's nothing that he can offer up that can compete with any of my family's homemade goodies.

Quick sidenote: My sis got me not one but two TJ cookbooks where everything in the recipe is made from TJ foodstuffs. Awesome gift, and looking forward to trying out some dishes - if I stumble across anything particularly good, I'll share for sure.

TJ's Sour Cream and Onion Corn Puffs made a good first entry back into regular non-holiday fare. I'll take his world that they're the "World's Puffiest" - I haven't exactly spanned the globe a la Andrew Zimmern and tasted corn puffs from across the international food spectrum while making as many happy sighs and groans as he does. But they are pretty puffy. Texture-wise, they are a treat. Although in appearance they resemble packing peanuts, they're definitely crunchy on the exterior with their puffy popcorn-like interior filling out the shell, so they're not quite like Cheetos either. They'd be pretty crappy if they were all puff and no crunch. In case you were wondering, they're strictly puffs with no kernels like popcorn. They're light and easy to munch down, not terribly filling, which makes grabbing a couple handfuls and chowing down just a little too easy to do. They're just okay taste-wise, I'd say. The onion flavor is subtle yet prevalent - it seems to be a light coating of mild onion salt (i.e, complete opposite of Funyun-style salt orgy). The sour cream doesn't seem to make its way on every puff. It's more like little sour cream pockets here and there that are pretty noticeable when your taste buds find them. I guess this way they're better by the handful then they are individually.

These guys are kind of hard to rate. Both Sandy and I like them, but don't consider them to be that spectacular. Yet when we tried them the other day, we had to rip the bag away from us and close it up after eating way too many of them. Maybe it was their crunchy, puffy texture or maybe it was their little sour cream blasts, but we wolfed down half the bag in not a lot of time. Of course, it could have just been our appetites still coming down off their holiday high. Sandy gave them a solid 3 out of 5 Golden Spoons - "a good, average snack" is what she said. I agree with her assessment and give them a 3 as well. The jury's out to see if they'll be a repeat buy.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader José's Super Seeded Tortilla Chips

I'll spare you the details, but from what I understand, diverticulitis is not a pleasant thing to have. Basically, it's a condition in some people who cannot properly digest seeds, nuts, and things of the like because their intestines don't like them. I know someone with what I assume to be severe diverticulitis, and he claims if he were to eat any seeds, he'd end up in the hospital. It's really nothing all that funny.

But, it must suck to have it. Imagine. No popcorn ... no pumpkin seeds ... no freshly toasted everything bagels with semi-melty cream cheese. Extra care must be taken when eating watermelon. You don't know what rye bread or Chick-Fil-A buns taste like. Think of all the extra work if you want to put peppers in your chili.

And up there with all of those injustices of the condition, no Trader Jose's Super Seeded Tortilla Chips for you, either.

Trader Jose found him some good chips here. The first bite offers lots of evidence that they're tough to beat. They seem to be a bit thicker than most, so they have a good satisfying crunch that other chips seem to miss. The seeds add a good nutty undertone, enough to be noticeable but not enough to interfere greatly with salsa and whatever else you might eat them with. Sandy and I heartily recommend pairing them with some Trader Joe's Peach Salsa, but I assume any type of chunky salsa would be a decent match. I crumbled some up to put in a bowl of homemade chili, and that worked really well because they're so thick and crunchy, they didn't get soggy at all. My last bite still had a good, loud crunch in it. Some other brands of tortilla chips tend to be overly salty, and these guys, while not exactly low sodium, don't make you feel like you just swallowed some ocean water either.

And they must be as relatively good for you as tortilla chips can be. Though not expressly marketed as being organic, all their ingredients say they are, and I thought I saw a blurb somewhere on the bag saying they were. I was too busy munching them down to really notice, though. They're gluten-free, which is nice for all you crazy celiacs out there. Plus, all the benefits of the seeds ... let's see ... well, we all know Barry Bonds was actually telling the truth when he credited flax seed oil for helping him hit all those home runs. Chia seeds can help turn ordinary ceramic creations into lovable furry green animals or definite office conversation starters. Hemp makes you cool with the hippies. I think. There's also poppy seeds, which we all know what they do for you on drug tests, and caraway seeds, which, uh ... well, I have no idea what any of the seeds do but I trust Trader Jose implicitly. Amigo hasn't let me down yet.

Trader Joe's has a lot of pretty good chip options, and these guys are Sandy's and my tortilla chip du jour. I think we downed two bags of them in about a week's time. I asked her how many golden spoons she would rate them, and she just said "a lot", which to me means four out of five, mostly because I give them a four as well.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mac & Cheese Bites

We are back! After a long period of transition and moving across the country, we have made our maiden TJ's shopping trip on the east coast, and we're ready for another blog entry. 

We are now primarily shopping out of the Media, PA Trader Joe's. So long to our favorite TJ's at 3rd and La Brea in L.A...

Anyhoo, let's take a look at these Mac & Cheese Bites...Hmmm... 

Well, let's face it: mac and cheese was never really health food...and deep fat frying it isn't exactly a step in the right direction...unless, of course, the direction you want to go involves triple bypass surgery. 

I think my good buddies at TJ's read my blog about their "Joe's Diner Mac n' Cheese" and resolved that their next macaroni and cheese product would NOT be bland. Trader Joe's Mac & Cheese Bites are quite tasty...but these little balls make Philly Cheesesteaks look like Weight Watchers entrees. 

The bites must be about a half an ounce a piece, yet paradoxically, about 3 ounces of grease flow out of each one. A half a dozen of the things completely drench a paper towel in milliseconds...we're talking crazy, freaky, Stargate portal summoning grease from another dimension type lipids here...the Simpsons episode where Bart rubs the Krusty Burger on the wall and it magically becomes transparent came to mind...Sonia and I have a new window in our apartment thanks to these little bites. 

But they do taste good. I mean, something with this much grease HAS to taste good...unless, for some strange reason, you don't like grease. If you don't like grease, I suggest you avoid the aisle they sell these things in at TJ's entirely. 

We did wind up putting some Cholula hot sauce on them just to give them a little more kick, but I was happy with their flavor and the comfort food coma that followed. I give them 4 out of 5 stars. Sonia gives them 3.5, docking some points because she's still mopping up the pools of liquid fat in the kitchen. 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10. (Projected score for grease-haters: -9 out of 10.)

Trader Joe's Candy Cane Joe-Joe's

So it's pretty much a proven fact that it's a bad idea to go grocery shopping when hungry. Everything looks better and tastier and you're bound to buy more prepackaged junk food because your thought process is more in tune with instant gratification and not reasonable meal planning. This is especially true at TJ's with all of their snack food and how they pile it on every conceivable display they can. 

Sandy and I went there for our somewhat weekly supply run after I picked her up from work one night but before we had a chance to eat dinner. Our stomachs were both growling as we walked through the doors to see what Joe had traded for us this week. We behaved going through the first couple aisles, getting cheese, our latest installment of soy chorizo, some fruit, etc. You know, real food we actually needed. 

But when we turned our cart around the corner about to go up through where I call "Temptation Lane", there it was. Huge, bright, happy end cap display of Candy Cane Joe-Joe's. It was like the centerpiece of the entire store, brimming with promise of seasonal sweet tooth satiation. They might as well have had a guy dressed as Trader Joe approach us and say "Aye, Cap'n, these be the best I scrounged for you this week" in some false pirate accent. There was no way we weren't picking up a box before scurrying home and plowing our way through.* 

Well, they aren't bad, but they're not that great either in the end. Imagine taking a candy cane, smacking it with a hammer til there's nothing but a pile of granule-y dust, smacking it more and putting it in the middle of your classic Joe-Joe/knock-off Oreo with a little mint flavoring. That's about what there is to them. The package claims to have "real candy cane pieces and rich cocoa in every bite" - both parts are a bit of an overstatement, as it's literally minute minty particulate matter and the usual not-so-rich-but-okay chocolate cookie wafer with the typical sugary filling holding it all together. 

The red food coloring dots they put in the filling are made of deception and falsehood, not good old candy canes. Of course, I should have questioned the accuracy of the packaging as they are clearly named Joe-Joe's, not Joe-Joes. I'm not sure what the apostrophe is trying to express ownership of ... the cookies themselves? No, I just bought them, they're mine, whoever you are, Joe-Joe. Of course, like any cookie of its type, enjoying them with a little milk makes them a little better too. 

Anyways, they're neither remarkable or unremarkable, They're just a seasonal variation on a classic. Just because they were the centerpiece of the store doesn't mean they should be the centerpiece of your holiday cookie tray - make some good old fashioned homemade cookies for that. The Candy Cane Joe-Joe's are good for a little snack or to tuck into a lunch, or okay to grab if you're running late to a casual holiday party, but for me, that's about it. I wouldn't mind getting them again, but I wouldn't insist either, and I won't miss them when they're put away for the season in a few weeks. 

Sandy seems like them a little more than I do, and she gave the Joe-Joe's 4 out of 5 golden spoons. Girl loves her candy canes, I guess. I'll give them 2.5, right down the middle, for total of 6.5 out of 10 golden spoons.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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*It's about a week later, and about half of them are still around. That'd be a household record for a truly irresistably deliciously tasty sugary munchie if, you know, that's what they were.

Trader Joe's Soy Chorizo

Hey everybody! What's Good at Trader Joe's has a new contributor! So it's been a while since this blog has been updated ... my old college buddy Nathan's been busy moving across the country or something ... and my wife Sandy and I (Russ) happen to pretty big TJ's fans ... so hopefully you'll be seeing at somewhat regular posts by me. We're hoping this blog, while a work in progress, will be a fun way to share about the good, mediocre, and nausea-worthy stuff we find on the shelves at TJ's. Nathan made this sound better up top.

Anyways, enough about that. Let's talk about fake meat product.

If you know anything about me, you know that I like food. And I like my food to taste like what it actually is - a steak to taste like a steak, coffee to taste like coffee, beer to taste like beer, etc. Sandy, on the other hand, is a little different. She likes her coffee to taste like caramel apples (this is what her choice of creamer tells me) and she loves to use black beans to make brownies (which I don't really get ... I just pretend they're actual brownies and go with it). She also loves fake meat. No, not like Spam. Like Morningstar Farms soy chicken products and "chicken" at Whole Foods and stuff like that. She's not vegetarian (she doesn't like vegetables enough to be), but she just loves the fake meat. I've tried it, and honestly, for me, if you want something that tastes like a piece of chicken, have it be the actual bird. It's nasty enough what they do to a chicken to turn it into a box of McNuggets, and I don't want to think of the additional steps of nastiness required to turn a handful of tasty-in-their-own-right beans into that.Anyways, I guess it was her affinity for all things soy that led us to the original purchase of Trader Joe's Soy Chorizo. It sounded interesting to her, and I guess for the $1.99 and her happiness, we put it in the cart. We got home, put it in the freezer (it does freeze well) and a few nights later, decided it was time to try. I did not have high hopes. First off, the very name is a lie if you know any Spanish. Soy Chorizo = "I am sausage".* No, you're beans, not delectably ground up little piggies. Then the way it is packaged is somewhat of a lie. It's tubular shaped, and comes in plastic casing, which originally lead me to believe this was a grillable-type of chorizo. So I go out, put it in on the grill (anything is better grilled), and once it gets even somewhat hot, it starts crumbling into a mess. Not good. I take the pieces I can salvage and not knowing what else to do, come back inside, put in a frying pan, and start cooking it. I explain this to Sandy, we re-figure out our dinner plans, and decide to make a go of it. Not knowing what else to do, I think we ended up tossing in some black beans and rice once the chorizo was crumbled completely and beginning to brown. We also had some salsa to stir in along with some cheese, and either tortillas or tortilla chips. Finally, it was time to take the first bite ...

Freaking. Awesome.

For a soy-based meat product, it's really good. Scratch that. It's just really good, period. It's spicy, but not overly. The chorizo when cooked also has just a little of the requisite gristle so it's hard to remember that it's not actual meat. When made with rice, beans, and other stuff (our favorite way to have it), it really seems to hold it all together without dominating the other tastes. I think it'd be a pretty good meat substitute for anything ground meat would be needed for in a spicier dish, like chili, tacos, or hotter pasta sauces. It's not anything you can shape or form into a patty or loaf, so burgers and the like are out, but it tastes better mixed into things as opposed to standing on its own anyways.

This has become a "must buy" nearly every time we shop at TJ's - Sandy and I always ask each other how much milk we have left, how many eggs, and if we still have any soy chorizo in the freezer. It's almost become that much of a staple - I'd say we eat it probably at least every other week. We heartily recommend trying it out just as described above - with black beans, rice, your favorite salsa, cheese, and tortillas. Sandy calls it our "everything we love in a bowl meal", which I think sums it up pretty well.

I think Nathan did the star rating thing. I'll use the same methodology, except instead of stars I'll use golden spoons. I give it a rock solid 4.5 golden spoons (it's tough to get 5), Sandy's busy so I can't ask her but I think she'd give it a 5, 

so 9.5 golden spoons out of 10.

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*It occurred to me after writing this sentence that it might not have been a lie after all. If TJ's wanted me to read into the Spanish meaning of the product name, they probably would have marketed it under Trader Jose's, not Trader Joe's. We call it "I am sausage" anyways because it sounds funnier, and it's so good, I'm not going to argue with it.

Trader Joe's Organic Cranberry Apple Juice

TJ's Organic Cranberry Apple Juice is very tart. It's a little sweet, but not excessively. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I like excessively sweet things, so for me that's not a huge plus. I've had similar 100% juice drinks before that do taste sweet enough for me...so at first I was thinking, "Hmm...maybe it's the organic-ness of this beverage that makes it not too sweet." But then I realized that didn't really make sense. The absence of pesticides and such shouldn't really change the sweet to tart ratio of a fruit juice. Then it dawned on me. The other juice blends I've had were "Apple Cranberry Juices." This is "Cranberry Apple Juice." In the other juice blends, the sweet taste of the apple is meant to be dominant, while TJ's juice blend favors the tart taste of the cranberry. Mystery solved. Another "adult" beverage from TJ's. Good for Sonia, with her discerning, mature palate. Not so good for myself and the other children of the world who crave sugar-sweet candy yum-yum tooth-rotting goodness. Don't get me wrong, this beverage is a fine product. I can just tell a little of the elevated beauty of its flavor is lost on consumers like me. I give it Three out of Five Stars. Sonia gives it Four out of Five. Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Strawberry Kiwi Juice

Yummy-licious! We like it. We like it a lot. We may have a new favorite beverage from TJ's here. The long-time champ, Pomegranate Limeade may have just been de-throned by the Strawberry Kiwi Juice. This sexy blend of those good-for-you fruit pals, strawberry 'n kiwi, has got it all. It's got flavor, it's not bad for you, it comes from TJ's, you can recycle the bottle and get 5 or 10 cents back for it, it's nutritious, it's delicious, it'll make you run faster and jump higher, it's a magical cure-all that takes you to a fantasy world of love and eternal happiness... All that for just $3.49! No, we didn't spike it. We just had it straight. It's sweet enough for me, but not too sweet for Sonia. It tastes like real fruit. This might be the first beverage I've had where you can actually taste strawberry and kiwi. And not like fakey type strawberry 'n kiwi, either. Despite its definite sweetness, it has a complex flavor. An official taster might describe it like so: (Think of this being said by an aristocratic wine-critic with a fake English accent) "The attack of this beverage is delightfully fruity, yet suitable for sophisticated palates. From there, a bouquet of fine fresh strawberries delights the senses, with just a suggestion of flinty undertones. The exquisite juice finishes with a faintly acidic wash across the tongue, inviting the partaker back for another indulgent taste." Yeah. We give this one a perfect 10.

Trader Ming's Chicken Shu Mai

My Asian friend, Trader Ming, has brought us yet another jewel from the Orient. These aren't terribly dissimilar from the Chicken Cilantro Mini Wontons. However, here are a few ways they do differ: Trader Joe brought us the Wontons...Trader Ming brought us the Shu Mai, The Wontons have more cilantro than the Shu Mai, and the Wontons are sort of dumpling-shaped little thingies...and the Shu Mai is round-ish. Sonia says these are way better pan-fried than steamed in the microwave. Makes sense. We both liked them. Sonia gives them a 4 and I give them 4 and a half. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Chow Mein

So here again we have the name "Trader Joe" on a Chinese food product instead of "Trader Ming" or whoever...makes you wonder about the inconsistency...

At any rate, this was pretty good. The noodles were thick and there were plenty of veggies. I kinda remember wishing there were just a few more pieces of chicken in the mix, but overall, I was satisfied. The sauce was decent. Sonia thought it was too salty. Is there such a thing as "too salty"? If God wanted us to be wary of salt, He wouldn't have spoken of it so highly in the Bible, what with all that talk about "the salt of the earth" and everything.

Anyway, Trader Joe's Chicken Chow Mein is nothing to write home about, but worthy of the moderate amount of time, effort, and money it takes to buy and cook it, as opposed to getting the same thing for take-out at a Chinese restaurant or buying a comparable product from another grocery store.

Sonia gives it a 4. Same here. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

These happy little cookie bites are sure to produce post-dinner smiles. Good texture. They are crispy, as the label indicates. They are slightly crunchy as well, but "crispy" is indeed the proper adjective to describe the level of tooth/cookie resistance present in these snackable treats.

They're made with oatmeal, which is better for you than bleached wheat flour, and they have a moderate amount of chocolate. Just enough to make them dessert-like and fun.

I'd say they're better than Famous Amos or any other big name vending machine type cookie, and probably better for you. And, if you broke down the price to find out the cost per cookie, I'm willing to bet they're a better value, at $3.99 for one package.

Sonia gives them a 4 out of 5. I do, too. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Honey Nut O's

Trader Joe's
Honey Nut O's

That rhymes.

They should have a little bee that raps about this cereal on commercials. "Honey Nut O's, mine not yo's..."

But I guess that would kinda be copying the Cheerios bee. Not that the Cheerios bee raps...only because "Honey Nut" doesn't rhyme with "Cheerios." If it did, I'm sure the Cheerios bee would bust it out like Jay-Z...Hey, they could call him "Jay-Bee." Get it?

Lol. That's terrible, I know...

Since they're made of oats, they could have a rapping horse...since horses like oats I think. And they could name it after some famous horse...Mr. Ed...Secretariat...Seabiscuit...I guess they could call him Honeybiscuit.

Anyway, I like this cereal. It's very close to the Honey Nut Cheerios in terms of flavor and texture, and it's generally cheaper. Good Stuff. Sonia and I give it Four and a half Stars a piece. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Mango Nectar

I like the thick, rich texture of this juice. And that's about all I like. The taste leaves a little to be desired. Sonia wasn't a huge fan either.

I like mangos. I guess they just don't translate into nectar the way I was hoping they would. My logic was "I like the way mangos taste, therefore, I will like the taste of this organic beverage made from mangos."

It's as if the good people at TJ's found a way to create a delicious mango flavored beverage, but they couldn't get the texture quite right, so they decided to see if monkey urine would smooth everything out, and even though the flavor was completely ruined, they just left it that way because they ran out of ideas.

Sonia says she thinks it's bland...I disagree...I think it tastes the way a mango tastes, but with something extra...something that just ruins it. Not sure what it is...the package mentions white grape juice and vitamin C, but I've never heard of either of those things ruining the taste of a fruit juice before.

With this Mango Nectar, TJ's has offered us a healthy beverage flaunting near perfect texture and consistency, with a flavor not unlike the fluid waste of a diseased chimpanzee...not that I know what that tastes like...I'm just guessing.

If you're really really crazy about mango, you should try it...I might be wrong. It gets 2 stars out of 5 from this reviewer. Sonia gives it a 2, stating "And that's being generous." Bottom line: 4 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mini Eclairs

I thought these were really good.

The last time Sonia and I had eclairs, we were in Vegas at one of those all-you-can-eat buffets, and they had eclairs out on their pastry table. And boy, these Vegas eclairs were disgusting! Worst. Eclairs. Ever.

So, after that experience, it didn't take much to impress me. I thought these Trader Joe's Mini Eclairs were tasty. The chocolate and the filling were very good. I must admit, the bread was a tad dry. That's what got Sonia. She is an eclair enthusiast, and she wasn't thrilled with these. She'll admit they were better than the Vegas buffet eclairs, but still not up to par with the fine pastries she is accustomed to.

Once these eclairs sat around a bit longer, they got slightly more moist. They come frozen, and you're supposed to eat them thawed. The only one Sonia had was about an hour or two into the thawing process. I think they need a little longer than that...For pre-packaged, frozen eclairs, I don't think you can expect too much more than what TJ's delivers. I give them Four and a half Stars out of Five. Sonia gives them Three and a half. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Strawberry Lemonade

Well...I definitely like this stuff. That may indicate that it would be too sweet for some people. It's actually quite similar to the Pomegranate Limeade...except think of a strawberry instead of a pomegranate...and a lemon instead of a lime...

But really, it does have a similar texture and flavor to the Limeade. The main difference, I would say, is that this beverage is not quite as tart. The sweetness level is about the same, but the strawberry finish generates a milder pucker than that of the Pomegranate Limeade.

Sonia gives it Four Stars, and it would have gotten that fifth one if not for the excessive sweetness. I give it Four and a half. I really like it, and it's a nice break from the Pomegranate Limeade once in a while, but overall the flavor isn't quite as impressive. But it's a very close second in my book...

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader José Light Premium Lager

So this is supposed to taste like a Corona or something. It says it's imported from Mexico. Authentic. Trader Jose. Si, Senor. 

 It's not as good as Corona, but it's not bad for an imitation store brand. And, it's cheaper than Corona. Limes always help with Coronas, and I'm sure they would enhance the flavor of this beer, too, although we didn't have any when we tried this. 

Also, it is a light beer. There was no non-light version at the store when we picked this up. Light beers can't really compete with the real thing. I don't think I've ever had a Corona Light. It's probably on par with the Trader Jose. 

All in all, it's pretty good. I give it a Four. Sonia gives it a Four. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader José's Chunky Salsa

<gasp> This stuff's made in Needham, Mass? Well, this stuff ain't made in San Antonio, but I still think it's a good salsa. Actually it's only sold and distributed from Needham, Mass., and I'm not sure where it's made. Could be New York City for all I know. In this case, it looks like our good friend Trader Jose hopped the border and made straight for the northeast.

I'm happy with it, but I am a yankee, and I apparently cannot be considered a connoisseur of fine salsas. To me, it seems chunky, just like the label says, and it has plenty of flavor. It's got just a little kick, but it won't burn your mouth.

It's OK if a salsa burns your mouth some, as long as it's got the sabor to back it up. ('Sabor' is Spanish for 'flavor.' Have you seen those billboards where it says something like "Experience true sabor." I guess 'sabor' is a real Spanglish word now. We'll go ahead and define the Spanglish term 'sabor' as "flavor, as it pertains to any food or beverage imported from a Latin country, or a Tex-Mex inspired food, such as this salsa.")

Now my wife, who is 1st generation Mexican-American, has the authority to declare this a good salsa, despite the fact it's made in (or at least distributed from) New England. And she actually likes it more than I do. So that says something.

I think they have hotter versions of the same salsa. I guess this is the mild variety. There's a little graph in the shape of a chili on the side of the jar that shows you how hot it is, and the chili is 1/3 red. I'm guessing medium is 2/3 red, and so on. I'll have to try the hotter ones too at some point. For this kind, I give Four and a half Stars. Sonia gives Five Stars. Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Joe-Joe's 'n Cream Flavored Ice Cream

Joe-Joe is apparently a toucan or some other kind of tropical bird, and he apparently has his own line of oreo-style cookies at Trader Joe's. What toucans have to do with chocolate and vanilla creme sandwich cookies, I don't know. (I'm not sure what they ever had to do with fruit loops, either, but at least the colors on the toucan's beak were similar to the color scheme of the cereal). By that logic, perhaps a zebra might have made a better cookies n' creme mascot. Anyway...this ice cream is "cookies 'n cream" flavor, and it's very good, in my opinion.

Sonia and I are both lovers of cookies 'n cream ice cream. It's the perfect balance of classic ice cream flavors with exciting cookie surprises. It's safer than something like "apple pie" ice cream or "strawberry cheesecake" ice cream, which, although tempting and emanating with potential, can be easily botched by an imbalance of ingredients or an improper pastry to ice cream ratio. Conversely, cookies 'n cream, though somewhat traditional, is not nearly as boring as plain chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla. It is the bar by which ice cream standards are set. Dairy science wizards and ice cream auteurs that can master the fine art of cookies 'n cream may then get set to tackle more advanced flavors, a la Ben and Jerry's, the world's leading minds in the world of dairy deliciousness.

Like Ben and Jerry's, Joe-Joe's opposes the recombinant bovine growth hormone and will not use milk from cows treated with it. I don't know what it is exactly, but it is evidently quite sinister, and cows treated with it are downright unhappy.

Sonia thinks the ice cream was a little bland. I disagree. I could taste chocolatey cookies and vanilla ice cream, and it was creamy and sweet...our other guests didn't make a big fuss about it either way, which would tend to suggest they kind of agree with Sonia. Hmmm...

Anyway, the cookies 'n cream passes, at least in my book. TJ's, you may now proceed with caution in the development and production of more bizarre flavors.

I give the Joe-Joe's 'n Cream Four and a half Stars. Sonia gives only Three and a half. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.