Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad

Another day, another dollar. Another day of uninspiring leftovers in a sparsely-filled refrigerator (we keep low stock when we're out of town often like we have been). Another day of TPS reports at the cubicle farm. Another day of being too cheap to order delivery from the cruddy area Chinese restaurants. So, to liven things up a bit...yep, another early morning TJ's run to try another salad and figure out if it's lunch-rotation worthy or not. Yeeeeeeeeehaw.

In the line-up this week: Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad. Now that's a mouthful of a name. Know what there's not a mouthful of? The chicken. Okay, there's probably technically a literal full mouth's worth of grilled chicken strips, but once again, the infamous TJ chicken cheater strikes again. One respectable sized strip and few small munches (maybe adding up to another respectable sized strip) just isn't enough, no matter how tasty it is....which is too bad, because it is pretty darn good poultry.

Fresh, firm, gently spiced with some five spice (definite emphasis on the black pepper, but not offensively so) - it's some good bird. Too bad TJ's decided to flip a bird at us while doling it out.

Other than that, it's a decent enough bite. All the veggies  - cabbage, carrots, etc - kinda make a dry coleslaw to go on top the rice noodles. Now, I'm not sure if I'm just really used to fried rice noodles, or overly cooked wimpy ones, because to describe these noodles as al dente is a bit of an understatement. They can probably double as fiber optic replacement strands. That's not necessarily a bad thing just...unexpected. I doubt I've had noodles as firm and vigorous as these fellas before, and like about that thing my wife mentioned the over night, if I don't remember it, it doesn't count. The chili lime dressing isn't too exciting one way or another, and one of the nice things is, there's more than enough that if you don't use all of it, you can save yourself some fat and calories without sacrificing too terribly much. It does strike me as an odd choice for an Asian-inspired salad (something sesame seems more appropriate to me), but, well, what do I know?

Sandy had one of these too a few weeks back, and while she doesn't distinctly remember too many details about it, she did recall that she liked it enough to get it again sometime if the need/opportunity arises. That's worthy of a four for her. For me...for the $4.49 I spent on it, I could have instead opted for a grilled chicken salad here from the work cafe which would have probably three times as much chicken on it. But then I'd want to get fries and cookies which then defeats the whole purpose of a salad. Consider the price point a draw, then. I too would get again, but I'll probably keep scoping out the salad options - anybody got a solid suggestion? Comment below!

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Scallion Pancakes (Pa jeon)

I hate the end of a long weekend. Really. Three days of freedom, fun, and sun, and then back to the daily grind on Tuesday. It's jarring. My soul really wanted to stay in summer mode and take another three months off. 

I mean, I had a great weekend—and regardless of your politics, you have to have crazy respect for the people who laid down their lives and gave the ultimate sacrifice, many of whom died in a trench or jungle far from home. Those wars seem so far removed from our typical Memorial Day activities: picnics, swimming pools, and baseball games. Yesterday, Tuesday, wound up being my day for reflection. On Monday, I was too busy having fun.

Plus, yesterday I was still in a pollen haze. I have weird allergies to pollen, mold, and dust that not only affect my sinuses, make me dizzy, and give me headaches, but the toxins that my body produces affect my entire system, including my thought processes and, to a lesser degree, my emotions. Sounds weird, but it's true. And instead of locking myself indoors for weeks on end and going nuts from cabin fever, I simply bite the bullet and go outside, taking whatever preventative measures I can, but I usually wind up paying for it later. And honestly, sometimes food is the best remedy. The more I eat and drink, the better I tend to feel.

So in between writing assignments yesterday, I took a nice long break at lunchtime and looked for some comfort food in our cupboards. Finding none of my traditional stand-by's, I decided to break out this pa jeon—Korean "pancakes" made with scallions. And boy, did they do the trick. They're not unlike the Vegetable Bird's Nests we reviewed a while back—these are just larger, and they have more scallions and less of every other vegetable. We've seen TJ's brilliantly employ the use of scallions with another Asian food in recent memory, too.

I heated the pa jeon on the stove top with a little Coconut Oil Spray. They browned up nicely in a few minutes, just as the directions indicated. They were perfect just by themselves. I didn't feel the need to add rice, soy sauce, or sriracha, although some of that sweet Bird's Nest sauce might have been nice. They were a tad oily, but that's kind of what I was in the mood for yesterday. Plus, I was able to put the remaining two pancakes back in the resealable package for Sonia to try later. She loved them, too, but she wishes there had been some kind of sesame sauce or something to sex them up a bit. We've always been fans of Korean barbecue, and we're both glad we're able to expand our horizons to other authentic-ish Korean foods. This pa jeon is a winner. Four and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Matcha Green Tea Latte Mix

Last year, we reviewed TJ's Tropical Sweetened Matcha Mix. That product left more than a little to be desired. Neither a tropical fruit drink nor a true matcha green tea drink, Sonia and I felt that it missed its mark—regardless of the fact we couldn't tell which mark it was aiming for. It was just...off. 

And while I've never been thoroughly impressed with the taste and texture of matcha green tea to begin with, true matcha fans like Sonia might get really excited over this Matcha Green Tea Latte Mix. It's thick and creamy, and it actually tastes like matcha. It mixes very smoothly and leaves virtually no powdery grit after stirring—IF you follow the instructions and mix it with hot water. If you want it cold, just chill it after you mix it. Mixing it with cold water requires several years worth of stirring.

For extra creaminess, you can make it with milk or soymilk. I found that if you mix it with water and also serve it on ice, as per the instructions, that it gets a little too watery and thin. If you're going to chill it with a glassful of ice cubes, we found it's best to use some kind of milk. It's still sweet enough, but it loses almost all of its creaminess.

I'm not sure what it is that turns me off about matcha. I feel like it looks and tastes just a little too much like a plant...or algae...granted, sweetened algae, but I'm just not into drinking algae at all. I like tea. I like chai. But I didn't even like that matcha flavored mochi that much—and Mikawaya mochi is wonderful. Mushroom Mochi? Glad Russ reviewed that stuff. You couldn't pay Sonia and I to try it—we're both pseudo-allergic to mushrooms.

How did we get to talking about mochi? Back to matcha. Anyway, I couldn't even stomach the Matcha Green Tea Smoothie from Jamba Juice—and I love me some Jamba Juice. I'm just not a matcha guy. But if I were, I have determined that I might have liked this particular product.

Sonia loves it. She says it reminds her of the matcha latte from Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. She gives it 4 stars. I don't think I'll be drinking it on a regular basis, but since I can tell that it's a quality product, I think I'll go with 3 stars. If you're into green tea, but not necessarily matcha, check out Green Tea and Lemonade or Pomegranate Green Tea.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi

Skipping right to the obvious question: no, there's neither 12 types of mushrooms in Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi, nor are there 12 mushrooms per mochi. Those both would be records. There's just two types of mushrooms involved, with the equivalent of about maybe one to one and a half mushrooms per piece. Are there even 12 kinds of mushrooms that are edible for us homo sapiens? I don't even know.

Nah, if you haven't guessed it by now, the 12 refers to the number of mochi (mochi? mochis? mochies?) in the box. My only previous experience with mochi have been of the ice cream variety, which are honestly a little bit weird to me. That's not meant in a judgmental way. Wiggily, doughy-skinned ice cream is a little bit of an odd concept for the classic suburban-raised American palette, but it doesn't mean I can't enjoy them. Regardless, these mochi were my first foray into non-desserty mochi (I didn't even know such a thing existed), and though I'll admit my hesitancy, there's a good part of me that was fairly intrigued.

Cooking them was a cinch that took just a couple minutes - brown in some oil, dump a little water on and cover. Nothing new if you've heated up frozen potstickers before, of which TJ's has some decent varieties. The dough tastes a lot like those - there to serve the purpose of holding in the filling and not stand out. But here's a difference, probably due to the size and shape: whereas smaller dumplings more or less keep intact, these mochi practically explode and gush all over the place once your teeth pierce the skin. Not sure of the right mouthfeel-related term to describe, but man, the first one was a bit much, but I was used to it by the time I ate my sixth and last one.

As far as taste, I'm not impressed or dismayed. They're very much a meh product, for me at least. The filling tasted a lot like the Trader Ming Stir Fried Vegetable Rolls that were fairly disappointing when we gave them a test drive. The mishmash mushrooms with carrots and onions and whatnot was salty, a little soy-saucey, and honestly not that terrific. Important note: there's oyster sauce in the filling, so despite mostly being a fungi, the mochi couldn't help being a little shellfish. Not vegetarian. Not that they taste all that oystery, just mushroomy and oniony.


Sandy, who thinks all mushrooms are really Goombas out to get her, could not be interested any less in trying these, and well, I was not going to plead a toddler to try them, either, so I made them for dinner on a night they both were out, and I shared them with Jack, the Chinese exchange student and mushroom aficionado who lives with us. "Pretty good," he said. "I thought they'd be sweeter, but they're not bad." Not sure how a sweeter taste would work, but, well, different flavor palettes I guess. He gave them a 3.5. I'd be open to giving them another try, but for now at least, I can't go higher than a 2.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sukiyaki

Although some might argue that it's not fair to compare a pre-packaged frozen dish purchased at a grocery store to similar food served in a restaurant, I think there comes a time when one should go ahead and make that comparison. In particular, when the price tag of a pre-packaged frozen food item starts getting up into the range of what you'd pay while dining out, then I say compare away. This bag of sukiyaki was $6.99, and the portion size was just about what one might expect from a restaurant. Sure, it was enough dinner for both Sonia and I, but most entrees we buy at restaurants turn into two meals for us as well. And while you might pay an extra dollar or two for this type of thing at a Japanese restaurant, you're also having it prepared and served by someone else, and there are usually some extra bells and whistles like rice or miso soup on the side.

So the question I'm asking myself is, "Was it restaurant quality?" 

Yes and no.

First, I'll start off with something positive: the sauce. The sauce was amazing. Excellent. Delicious. It was savory, thick, rich, and slightly sweet. Containing real sake rice wine and mirin, it was bursting with flavor. I've never had anything quite like it. The dish wasn't spicy at all, but I didn't find myself wanting to dump sriracha all over it like I usually do with non-spicy Asian foods. I don't think a bit of sriracha would have ruined it, but I didn't want to upset the flavor of this amazing sauce. It permeated all of the ingredients and added to their natural tastes. The veggies were plentiful and had nice textures. There were big pieces of carrots, napa cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, and something called burdock. 

The noodles were made of mung bean flour. They were flat, long, and clear. I've had similar noodles in Asian dishes before, and each time I have them, I'm surprised how chewy they are. I usually wind up gnawing on them for a bit before I get so frustrated that I simply swallow and wind up taking down a much longer strand of noodle than I intended to. Surprisingly, there wasn't a lack of meat—one of the more common problems we've found with TJ's frozen food bags. The worst part was that the beef was much more chewy than the noodles. It was fatty, too. There were big chunks of white fat all through the meat, and it was quite rubbery. In this case, I would have preferred tofu chunks—or at least very lean beef. The meat tasted fine, especially once it soaked up all that yummy sauce. It was just too chewy. I ate the food with chopsticks, and I found myself attempting to bite a piece of meat in half with my teeth while yanking on one end with the sticks a couple times. As I stretched and pulled on the beef, sauce dribbled down my chin, and I even lost my grip on the chopsticks at one point—allowing the slab of meat to dangle from my lips like a dog running off with a piece of raw bacon. It almost ruined the experience for me. Almost.

But I'll be danged if that's not some deeeelicious sauce. I give this product 3 stars. It would have been much higher had the meat and noodles not been so rubbery. Sonia gives it 3 stars as well for the same reasons. She also thinks there are too many onions in the mixture. I guess I'm just a bit more into onions than she is, because I disagree on that point. But double 3's it is.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Thai Style Citrus Chicken Salad

Another month, another dietary page being turned here at the Western PA bookend of the WGATJ team. I'm not gonna really bother rehashing most of the past because, well, it's kinda boring and ultimately fairly mixed results at best. Our newest thing: the 21 day fix. I'll admit, as is our custom, I was pretty skeptical while Sandy very gung-ho about it. She did the first go around and lost about 10 pounds in three weeks, and I'll you what: there was nothing wrong with how she looked before, but now, let's just say, extra fine. Meanwhile, my weight loss/get in shape DIY plan has kinda plateaued after some decent results (lost about 35-40 pounds since my pregnancy-sympathy-cheeseburger-fueled peak), so I'm now giving it a try. Not the hugest fan so far. If you're not familiar, it's basically a repackaging of portion-control ideals mixed with exercise videos led by over-ecstatic half-naked people with a side of near-contempt for carbs (understandable) and dairy (whiskey tango foxtrot?). There's also an overpriced shake you can drink every night that if you try hard enough you can forget it has a very distinctive Alka-Seltzer aftertaste.

Anyways, we were both in need to find a lunch that easily fit into our diet, and would be hopefully tasty to boot. Our local Trader Joe's used to have only a small handful of salads to choose from; now, there's close to twenty, and so an early A.M. trip to scope them out seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. That's how we both came away with our own Thai Style Citrus Chicken Salad to give a whirl.

I'll give it this: it's a pretty flavorful little package that's pretty fun to crunch through. Almost everything is literally crunchy: the cabbage (there's a few types), the carrots - with lots of flavor assist by cilantro and scallions and the like. It all seemed pretty fresh, especially by prepackaged salad standards. Big plus: the little lime wedge that comes with to squeeze out for a little extra flavor. And the dressing kinda helped tie everything together with a gentle yet potent citrus flavor, and a little goes a long way, especially with adequate lime implementation. That's a bonus as most of the fat, calories, and assorted bad stuff are all in the dressing. I used maybe half the packet and that was more than enough. If you're looking at the word "Thai" and concerned about spiciness, don't be; there's next to none to be found here. It's much more flavor than heat.

The problem is, there's not a whole lot of it, even by fairly restrictive portion control standards. There were five miniscule nibbles of chicken in it - I'd estimate at best it'd be an actual quarter serving. Okay, I'll be generous: a third. The rest of the salad amounted to large handful of assorted veggies. Even Sandy, Ms. Portion Control Squadron Commander herself, said it seemed a lot more like a side salad than a main entree. Even after eating an apple and a couple handfuls of baby carrots, and drinking lots of water, I was downright hangry by dinnertime. For $3.99 a pop, I'd hope for more.

It's worth trying, but come prepared. There's some other fresh salads with some cous-cous and other tasty looking mix-ins that I'll probably try out before getting this particular salad again. Get a respectable amount of bird and some more veggies in there, and then we're talking. It's not like there isn't room in the container. Halve the dressing packet if you really need to. Eh. Good thing that what's in there is pretty tasty and flavorful. Though, upon inspecting the ingredients, I don't really recall tasting any papaya in there, but I could be wrong. Sandy gives it about 3.5, while I go a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Style Citrus Chicken Salad: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sai Tung Green Curry & Red Gaba Rice

Well, I've written at length before about my love of most Thai cuisine, so let's skip all that mumble grumble and get down to the business of reviewing one of the latest, greatest, easiest, tastiest, purportedly authenticish dishes that has been scavenged from the corners of the earth and brought right to a freezer aisle near you -  Trader Joe's Sai Tung Green Curry & Red Gaba Rice.

Man, that's a long product name.

Anyways, according to Trader Joe's, "sai tung" is Thai for "take out." I wasn't able to find independent verification of that translation in the 5 seconds I spent on Googling the matter, so let's roll with that. Hmm, ethnocentrically speaking, I thought that take out food was more or less an American thing. I wonder what the quality of take out Tupperware in other parts of the world are.

Overall, the sai tung is a pretty respectable dish. First, it's MASSIVE. The product shot I included here? That's less than half of what came on our $2.99 platter. It's kinda obviously packaged to be a microwavable lunch or dinner onto itself, which even for a guy with a bottomless pit of a stomach like me, would be a bit much. Sandy and I instead used it as a side dish the other night with some baked fish. The rice and curry come frozen in a compartmentalized plastic dish, not (unfortunately) the cool looking bowl on the box cover. And even though I followed the instructions carefully, it still took almost twice as long to nuke as the directions stated because both the rice and the curry are so densely packed in. Maybe Nathan can give me some lessons, that microwave wizard him.

Once it was finally heated, it tasted downright good. The red rice is of the sprouted variety, so it's a little extra protein and a lot of extra bite, kinda a texture closer to quinoa than regular white rice. Grainy, a little chewy, but definitely good. As for the curry, it doesn't disappoint. The sauce starts off nice and sweet and coconut milky, before laying a spice wallop on the taste buds before quickly retreating back to the sweetness. I'll admit it took me a few bites to really get into it, but once I was, I was hooked. I've had curries that were a little more complex and layered out at restaurants, but for a freezer meal, it was more than acceptable. There's a lot of not-common-in-USA greens mixed in - coconut shoots, morning glory, banana flowers - which if you don't mind chomping on something that kinda looks and feels like a soggy forkful of yardwork actually tastes pretty darn good in a greeny way. Sandy strategically avoided all that shrubbery, leaving more for me, which I didn't mind one bit.

"Oooooooh I like it," Sandy said when I asked for her thoughts a few minutes ago. "That curry sauce...." Whenever she says mentions she likes something and kinda trails off (which happens fairly commonly) I always kinda mentally picture her doing the Homer Simpson "Mmm, beer" thing. It was kinda surprising when she said she'd give it only a 2.5, though. She explained she artifically lowered her grade because she was subconciously upset she couldn't have more of it thanks to a diet regime she's trying out for a few weeks. "If I could've had the whole thing, like for lunch, I would've given it a four, probably," she said. Well, I'll give my a score a little boost to try and compensate. Good stuff.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sai Tung Green Curry & Red Gaba Rice: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons

Toddlers. Yeeeahhh.

There was a time, several months ago, that as Baby M (from now on, we're just gonna call her M) was beginning to eat regular food, she'd inhale everything in sight. There was little to no persuasion involved. I mean, sure, she had her favorites like frozen waffles and whatnot. It was awesome, and after seeing some of the pickiness of her older cousins, I thought, hey, just maaaaybe we dodged a bullet.

Ha. Hahahaha. Nope.

These days, if it's not cheese, a cheap carb, or some type of fruit, good luck. We can occasionally get some fake chicken in her. Some dinners are a downright disaster with her. I'm scared she may be developing her own set of "food rules" like her mama has....is that kind of stuff genetic?

That's why both Sandy and I were a little bit surprised a few weeks back when we went shopping at TJ's. The sample that day was these Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons. M loved them. I mean...wow. She gulped down the couple bites and spent the rest of the excursion earnestly, desperately, making the "more" and "please" sign, so we felt inclined to make the purchase for the three or four bucks for the box.

Naturally, when we finally made them the other night, she couldn't be interested less in them. Like I said, toddlers.

As for Sandy and I, well, they're okay. I'd suspect the rangoons would be much better fried than baked. The crownish top parts crisped up fairly well, though, in our oven, as did the rest of the wrapper despite our lack of the recommended parchment paper. A little cooking spray more or less did the trick.

It's the innards that are a little, well, iffy to me. The dominant flavor by far is the cream cheese filling. It's really sweet, much like what one would expect from a cheese rangoon (which are not terribly high on my list of preferred Chinese takeout cuisine). So, fairly typical so far, The edamame mixed in is mishmash of some whole and some squishy ones, kinda as if were a soybean paintball, and helps fill it all out a little bit. That "hint" of wasabi? It's more like a "whisper of the slightest suggestion, not meant to inconvenience anyone." I mean, it's just not really there. I looked at the ingredients and wasabi powder is listed last, so obviously it wasn't much of a priority.

So, yeah, they're okay. The rangoons made an decent-enough complement to our wonton/sweet-and-sour soup and rice dinner. We could buy them again and I wouldn't care. We could never buy them again and I wouldn't care. If they were marketed at Trader Ming vs Trader Joe, then maybe I'd hold them in sightly higher regard, mostly because I miss that dude. As it is, I think a 6 is more than fair. M is unavailable for comment.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers

I've never been to a Thai restaurant outside of Pittsburgh, so I don't know if this is the usual protocol or not, but when you order your fried rice or curry or what have you out here, you're asked how spicy you want it on a scale of 1 to 10. There are certain things I may do in my life with a questionable percentage of my gluteus maximus invested, but heat is not usually one of them. I have to go ten. Sometimes, I get extra spice on the side. One particular time several years ago, an acquaintance whom I was dining with stated he could handle hotter food than I ever could. Game on. Ordered a ten, got extra spice, coated every bite with the hottest chile powder, peppers and curry paste, and didn't take a single sip of water, drip one tear, or heck, even cough. He tried to match me, and it was a cute effort, but it fell far short. That guy's still intimidated of me to this very day.

So, yeah, the Thai spices. Love 'em, though I'm also learning to appreciate other flavors and aspects of Thai cuisine, like sweet coconut undertones, and as experienced here and there, lime leaves. It's a good thing, because otherwise, these Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers would've been a rather large disappointment.

If you have any preconceived notions that all Thai food is spicy, throw it completely out the window here. These are not spicy at all, in any way that any tongue, branch of science, or philosopher could ever discern. In yet another example of TJ's exemplary track record in overall shrimp quality, each one of these are firm, fresh, non-fishy tidbits that heat up quickly and easily. For flavor, instead of the usual spicy suspects, it's all about the lime, but not in a citrusy Warhead-esque way, It's more refined. Such is the way of the kaffir lime. Not sure how to accurately describe it - Wikipedia uses words like "aromatic" and "astringent" which sounds like a smelly zit remover description to me - but perhaps it's like a limey answer to lemongrass. The citrus is subtle, while the herbal taste isn't but it isn't overpowering either. It's just good.

However, it ain't all perfect. This is yet another silly pet peeve that I'm slowly becoming more cognizant that I have, but the tails on? Really? Haven't we evolved past this? I hate shrimp tails, especially because it's not always easy to get the last little shrimp nub in them. My toddler daughter also kept reaching for pile of tails, much like she usually does while making a scene trying to grab clementine peels, except she loves clementines and didn't care for this shrimp whatsoever. Also, these got cold really fast after finishing cooking them. I'm talking ice cold in about three minutes. That might be more me than my little crustacean cronies - anybody with some insight? I could also live without the skewer itself, but meh. Also, please just a little spice. Please.


All told, the shrimp skewers aren't a bad buy. They're definitely much better than our previous meat-unnecessarily-on-a-stick purchase. You get five sticks with five shrimp on each for either five or six bucks. That's less than a quarter each, and given that I saw a bar advertising 90 cent wings as a special the other day, I'm thinking a restaurant would charge much more. Sandy liked 'em enough to score them a four without much to say one way or the other. I'll counter with a three.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Lime Shrimp Skewers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Dried Kimchi

I've mentioned my feelings about kimchi in one or two previous posts. It scares me. It's foreign, it's fermented, and it's cabbage. It's just a bit intimidating. 

And it's not just kimchi that terrifies me, but all forms of fermented cabbage, like sauerkraut.

But you can't say I'm not a trooper. I've eaten sauerkraut on hotdogs and with porkchops. I've tried kimchi in fine Asian restaurants, mostly Korean barbecue places. And I've tried multiple different kinds of it. I did appreciate some of the varieties a little more than the traditional cabbage-based one, but none so much that I'd snack on them on any normal occasion. I just can't get into it.

Recently, an excellent article about fermented foods by Ellen Byron went up on the Wall Street Journal site. (If that link takes you to a "Get the Full Story" screen, that means they've placed the article behind their paid subscriber wall). And it really got me thinking. It got me thinking that if a delicious condiment like Sriracha is actually fermented, a fact I was previously unaware of, that maybe I should give this whole kimchi thing another whirl. 

I thought that maybe the dryness of this Trader Joe's product would cut down on the grossness of the kimchi. When it's all wet, I just can't get it out of my mind that it's cabbage being broken down into a liquid slowly by millions of little bacteria. So, after postponing the consumption of the dried kimchi as long as possible, I finally decided to be brave and open the bag. There were dozens of chunks of dried kimchi with a dusting of a powdered version of the traditional red spices you'd find on any regular kimchi. It looked and felt like the bag of kale chips I reviewed a while back. The taste, however, was very different from the kale chips.

Chalk it up to my aversion to kimchi if you must, but I simply can't recommend this stuff like I did that delicious bag of dried kale coated in a weird nacho sauce. This stuff STILL TASTES LIKE ROTTING CABBAGE!

I found it a shade more palatable when I ate it in a bowl of ramen instead of straight out of the bag, but in the former case, it gets wet again. I imagine that the millions of little bacteria responsible for the sourness of the cabbage have been in suspended animation for months, and then when I drop it into my bowl of warm soup, they come to life again like a package of Amazing Live Sea Monkeys and begin swimming about, devouring bits of cabbage and ramen, rushing to establish a culture of their own in my bowl before I can gag them all down and digest them.

My wife Sonia, who generally appreciates regular kimchi, felt like TJ's Dried Kimchi was mostly flavorless. I disagree. I think it tastes sour like authentic rotting cabbage. And I also tasted the spices, which I might have actually enjoyed if they were sprinkled onto, say kale, instead of ... rotting cabbage. Neither Sonia nor I could ever feature ourselves buying this again, but perhaps for slightly different reasons. I can only recommend trying this product if you're a big fan of regular cabbage-based kimchi. I know you kimchi fans are out there, and I wish I could join your ranks. But this is one food I fear I may never fully develop an appreciation for.

Sonia gives it 3 stars. I give it 2.5.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Ming's Stir Fried Vegetable Rolls

I really wish I read food labels a little more carefully. In fact, there should be more of them. A lot more of them. GMO free? Organic? Fair trade? No antibiotics? Slap it on the label. Conversely, if it's some good ol' ammonium-washed beef or full of wood chips or even worse, straight from the gates of Monsanto, let me know about that, too. I think all of that should be mandatory. Let me know what exactly what I am buying to make an informed purchase. There shouldn't be a controversy about these kinda things.

Although, to be honest, I'd still probably screw things up and buy something I really shouldn't have. Like these Trader Ming's Stir Fried Vegetable Rolls. See, I snatched them on a solo trip, and my eyes inserted the word "egg" before "rolls" and missed the vegan V. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but had I noticed that, I would have turned the package over to read the ingredients to see what all was wrapped up in lieu of the typical egg roll ingredients, would have noticed the word "mushrooms", recalled that my wife absolutely detests all thing fungi, and would have moved on to a different dinner option. But that's not what happened, and all of that didn't dawn on me until about 10:30 at night when I snapped these awful pictures of them after a long day of cubicle jockeying, baby wrestling/juggling and house-working. I kept all that to myself, though, in hopes that if these were good enough as they were, with all the other stuff included, maybe, just maybe, Sandy wouldn't notice. Dinner could conceivably be salvageable if my man Trader Ming could come through as he almost always does.

Welllll....that would be a no. I baked all five rolls in the oven for just over half an hour, so a little past their recommended bake time of about 25 minutes. These needed more time, as while the wrappers were mostly crunchy and crispy and pretty tasty (dead ringer for crunchy lo mein noodles), all the wrapper parts that were touching the baking sheet were soggy and drippy and kinda nasty. That's even with turning them. And for Sandy, the wrapper was pretty much the highlight. One bite in and she grimaced. "Ugh! Nothing but mushrooms!" she said as she dumped out all the innards. Indeed, the insides were pretty much mushrooms and bean sprouts with a couple tofu tidbits all kinda mushed together in some grayish soy saucy substance. For some reason, the TJ Indian Hot Pockets (not their real name) came to mind, not because these rolls and those pouches were overly similar in taste, but because of the nondescript disappointing filling. Even at about 11 at night, when dead tired and hungry enough to consider eating my own shoe with enough hot sauce on hand, they were a major downer.

Must be that I'm a little too opposed to wasting food, as I ate two rolls that night, plus took two for lunch the next day, and ate them despite the rest of the wrapper getting all sogged up, thereby losing the best thing they had going for them. At least Il know not to drop my $3.99 on them again, as I can ensure these will not be a repeat purchase. Sandy's a little more adamant about that - when I mentioned I'd be writing this review, she just made what would be instantly and internationally recognized as a "barf face", made some sort of corresponding sound, and shuddered. And somehow that translates to a one, which must mean she really liked the few crispy bites of just wrapper she had. For me, these no-ovo-uh-ohs shouldn't have been the near disaster they were, but I'll go with a two.

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Stir Fried Vegetable Rolls: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons      

Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice

Admittedly, Sandy and I are on a dinner time slump of sorts. We used to cook an actual "real dinner" almost every night, as opposed to our current habit of ripping open a box or bag and heating whatever's inside. Used to be that on "lazy nights" I'd end up making us some fried rice of some sort, using whatever we had around. These days, even that sounds like a bit of an undertaking. There's many reasons why I guess - tiredness from workday, the baby needing attention, the house needing to be cleaned and prepped for putting it on the market - but man, I at least miss actual cooking, but the allure of something quick and easy, with one less mess to clean up is pretty tempting these days. I'm hoping this will change as things hopefully begin to slow down, more veggies get in season, and the farmer's market/CSA season gets into swing.*

But until then, we still need to eat. Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice was a pretty natural pick up. Pretty much every word in its name is a buzzword that once my eyes see them, I'm instantly interested in whatever it is. It's like naming something Dinosaur Baseball Bikini Beer or Sleeping Baby Couch Netflix White Russian - there's too many good sounding things about it that I gots to see what it is.  I'm just glad that this name at least makes sense.

This dish isn't a terrible pick up. On some levels, the fried rice is a pretty straightforward, fairly typical variety one might expect from the freezer section. Typical veggies, typical spices, typical shortage of shrimp, and so on. But there's one or two extra things done right that help kick it up a notch. The teenyThai lime leaves scattered about make a great, flavorful extra touch that I wasn't fully anticipating, even though I've become reacquainted with them recently thanks to these catchy cashews. Also, while the rice and other contents maintain an adequate level of spice that'd be accessible to most folks, the sliced red chiles actually kick things up several notches in the heat department. If you like heat, head for them; if not, avoid them, and the rest of your dinner should be unscathed. And thankfully, TJ's has kept up its track record of of having only fresh, firm, delectable shrimpies included, which is not the norm I've experienced at other chains. 

That's not to say it's a perfect dish. According to the label, this is a four serving bag. I ensure you it is not. Sandy and I, who have been watching our portion sizes, were easily able to polish it off without much trouble in one sitting. Need more evidence? There were only seven shrimp in the bag. Tell me how four people split seven shrimp. If you need to feed a crowd bigger than two, I'd say get an extra bag, or at least add some extra protein like some eggs or cashews. I for one am glad that frozen egg bits were not included, unlike other shrimp fried rice offerings in the past.

Other than that, this particular iteration made a decent enough dinner. Grab some spring rolls and you can make a reasonable approximation of a Thai dinner out at a fraction of the cost. I misplaced the receipt, but this cost about four bucks if I remember right. Seriously, only about a small handful of shrimp keep this away from a much higher score. Also, if this didn't give poor Sandy a little bit of heartburn after the fact. I told you to give me those chilis, love, because you're hot enough the way you are, and you just had to roll your eyes. Tsktsk. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Spicy Thai Shrimp Fried Rice: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

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* Sandy and I are jumping aboard the CSA bandwagon this year, and quite honetly, I'm frightened about it. The reason can be summed up in one word: kohlrabi. Never had one, have no idea what to do with it, and it reminds me of the veggies from Super Mario 2 that you throw at the bad guys. When's the last time you saw a Shy Guy riding an Ostro around in real life? Thought so. So what the heck am I supposed to do with it? We'll see.....

Trader Joe's Thai Lime & Chili Cashews

I'll admit it: Sandy and I bought this bag of Trader Joe's Thai Lime & Chili Cashews fully expecting to not like them. I do that sometimes, for the sake of the blog, otherwise we'd never review ca-taste-trophes like the meatloaf muffins or the watered down raccoon p...I mean Name Tag lager. You see, years ago, well before becoming a TJ's regular, I happened to stroll in one day to see what the big fuss was about TJ's, saw these and bought them, gagged on the first handful, and promptly returned them, and didn't really come back to the store 'til a few years later. I had kinda forgotten about them, but then my folks, who've become recent TJ regulars themselves, made the same rookie mistake I did, bought them, hated them, and returned them right away, and made sure I knew about it. I figured it'd be worth the time and obliterated taste buds to revisit this bag o' nuts, if for no other reason to spread the word about their grotesque existence, and maybe indirectly get TJ's to spend their precious shelf space on some other worthy snacky food.  Doing that based off a five year old memory wouldn't be fair, hence our purchase. I think I even talked Sandy into them by saying we'd buy them, be grossed out, return them and then go get ice cream with our returned dollars.

But a funny thing happened: Sandy ripped the bag open, popped one or two in her mouth, and then kept going back for more and more. "Mmmmm," she said, unbelievably to me. "I like 'em." So, I grabbed a few myself.

Surprisingly....they're not bad. Granted, they're hotter than a pair of sweat pants full of barbeque, so their appeal to the general population may be somewhat limited. That "lime" you see in the title? If you were expecting these cashews to be mostly lime flavored with a little Thai spice, or perhaps offer some relief from the heat (like, say, bleu cheese dip for some hot wings), you're about to be very gravely mistaken. The lime is very, very, very subtle. The packaging says it has something to do with the lime leaves it comes from, or something like that. What's not subtle at all is the literal barrage of Thai chili seasoning coming from each and every nut. It's unrelenting. It's liberally dusted over each nut, and by the end of your snack it will not only cover your fingers but also seemingly every bit of your existence. Behold the power of Thai chili, and have water nearby just in case. If you do not absolutely love very spicy Thai food, you stand no chance of liking these whatsoever. Buy carefully.

If I recall correctly, I didn't like them years ago because they were way-off-the-chart-too-spicy, even for me back in my younger days. I phrase it that way, because I used to be able to eat a habenero and not even wince, and these days, on the other side of 30 with a wife, kid, mortgage, full-fledged bald spot and regular chiropractic appointments, anything much more than Frank's Red Hot make me want to take a knee for a spell. So either these have toned down over the years, or there's some part of me wishing desperately to ignore all the radio ads about my supposedly declining testosterone and to hold on to the days of my youth, and for whatever reason this has all subconsciously manifested into a newfound tolerance for a sack full of spicy nuts. Or maybe I just don't want to look like a sissy next to my wife. Not sure. 

They're $6.99 for the pound, which isn't too bad for cashews these days. And while they're not something we'll inhale, or even necessarily buy all that often, they're good enough for the occasional handful. We'll have to finance our next ice cream trip thru different means after all. Sandy does seem to enjoy them a smidge more than me, and I like them to the tune of about three Golden Spoons, so add half of one for her.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Lime & Chili Cashews: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

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.

Trader Joe's Spicy Seaweed Ramen

TJ's has offered us a number of unusual, but surprisingly good soups over the years. I'm thinking Lentil Soup with Ancient Grains and Tomato and Red Pepper Soup. But, they've also offered a number of so-so selections like the Rice Noodle Soup Bowls.

In several past posts, I've mentioned that I love seaweed. And at least once I've mentioned that I hate kimchi and sauerkraut—the whole rotted cabbage deal just isn't my thing. Well, this dish has both seaweed and kimchi, but as the product's name would suggest, seaweed is more prominent in the soup. There's little more than a few kimchi flakes in the whole package. Thank goodness. But I do have to admit that they added a hint of excitement to an otherwise unremarkable broth.

The noodles are really good. They're thick and soft—but not too soft, depending on how long you cook them—and they've got about as much flavor as you can expect a ramen noodle to have. There seemed to be an excess of broth when we added the prescribed amount of water. Two cups I think. And less water would have meant a slightly stronger flavor in the broth, which I wouldn't have minded one bit. It was sorta spicy as it was, but I could have stood it being doubly so.

I also wouldn't have minded more seaweed. I liked the way the noodles and seaweed paired up, but I still had half my noodles left when the little green leaves started getting scarce. This product is a really easy, inexpensive international snack, but it's also unsubstantial and would benefit from a stronger broth and more seaweed. All in all, not a bad value, but probably not something we'll buy on a regular basis. I give it 3.5 stars. Sonia gives it an even 3. 

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10

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Here's a photo of the prepared product, with some of the broth drained out. We didn't waste the excess liquid. We used it in a culinary experiment so shameful, that I shan't mention it on this blog for fear you'll downgrade me from a "foodie-hack" to a "person who shouldn't be allowed to eat at all." 

Okay, you twisted my arm. I'll tell you. We added chicken hot dogs to make an Asian-American fusion dish. Please, kids, don't try it at home.

Trader Joe's Light Coconut Milk

Clickety click click click. Click. Click clack moo.

"Whatcha doing over there?" asks my wife, laying on the other couch, relaxing after dinner with her Nook as Baby M snores away n her car seat (She's been asleep since we got home, and don't you mess with a sleeping baby).

"Uhhh..nothing" I say. "Really, not much at all."

"You're typing something. I can tell by that fourth-grade style hunt and peck you do. You're thirty, learn how to type like an adult. Typing something up for your TJ's blog or that other one you do?"

"Like, I said nothing really. Go back to your Nook."

"Nah, you're typing something. I'm going to guess it's your TJ's blog. Whatcha reviewing? Aren't you gonna nag me again for your Golden Spoon rating? You and your spoons, thinking you're so clever...."

"Okay, fine, I am writing a TJ's review."

"On?"

"Uhhhh......Trader Joe's Light Coconut Milk."

"What the heck can you write about a can of friggerin' milk?"

"I don't know, but we seem to pick it up pretty often. I mean, every time you make your Tres Leche cake, you add some in to make it a 'Cuatro Leche' cake. You really need to make that again sometime, and by that, I mean, like right now. Or last night, when I used a can to make some Thai-style coconut and chicken soup. Even with all the spices and stuff I put in, you still tasted the coconut, right? Or didn't we use it that one time with some mango and make that really good coconut-mango rice we both really liked?"

"Yeah, but, it's still just a can of milk."

"Well, no poop, but...everything at TJ's can't be cookie butter and impossibly good ice cream and candy bars. It's a grocery store, and they got to get some of the staple stuff right, or they'll just be some sort of store all full of gimmicky stuff and not much else. Sometimes I want all the gimmicks, but I still need me some groceries too. It can't hurt to write about those every once in a while, too. Like the maple syrup last week. Right, my dearest of loves? Right?"

"....Sure, you're right. I guess. Have fun. I'm just going to lay here and read my Baby Sitter's Club book for the 693rd time. This one is one of my favorites. It's the one where Mallory has to try and beg and plead her parents to get her ears pierced. It's...just...so...good!"

"Well, you know what else is good? I'm pretty sure we've picked up both the the regular and light versions of this coconut milk, and kinda like regular and Diet Dr Pepper, it's hard to tell the difference. Well, it's not impossible, the regular has just a little more coconut richness but, they're both good, and get enough coconut flavor in. I think the difference is the light version because it's made from coconuts that were jumped on their way out of a Weight Watchers meeting. Ha! That's a funny line I need to remember to put in. Nah, seriously it's because it's the second time they press the coconuts and the first time all the...."

"Excuse me, I'm trying to read here. What are you prattlin' on about coconuts about?"

"I'm just thinking out loud about how smokin' you'd look in a grass skirt and coconut top...."

"Errr, no. And don't put that in your review. Or the line about coconuts going to Weight Watchers. That's stupid."

"I thought you weren't listening."

"I wasn't. Mallory almost has them convinced!"

Ladies and gentlemen, this conversation, which completely did not happen, is why when you choose for whatever reason to write a review about a can of coconut milk, you just go and write it, and leave your better half alone. That said, both Sandy and I like the canned coconut milk and heartily recommend it for all of your coconut milk needs.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Light Coconut Milk: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

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.

Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice

Okay, true story time: A little over five years ago, while still very much a bachelor, I lived in a house with a bunch of other guys, one of whom we found on Craigslist. Now, I won't say anything bad about him, because overall he and his girlfriend were pretty cool except...one day I got a call from him at work. He had never called me before. "Ummm, yeah, we, uh...we burned down the house," he said. Wha!?!? Apparently they neglected the chicken they were frying on the stove top in favor of watching Judge Judy and some grease caught fire and POOF. The entire house didn't quite burn down, and most of our stuff was okay, but my favorite recliner had to be pitched due to smoke damage, so I was NOT happy. Ever since then I have made two pledges: Never find people to live with on Craigslist, and always watch whatever I'm cooking very carefully, especially if it's something spattery.

I mention all that because combine that story, along with new parent jitters as I attempted to make my wife and I bacon and eggs after being home from the hospital for just a few days, and man, that was so incredibly stressful. I kept having to turn off the burner as she asked me to get this and do that so it took me an hour to make breakfast. A freakin' hour. I told myself whatever I made next on the stove top had to be a lot easier.

Thankfully, Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice is pretty easy. If you have about a large fry pan or wok, 5 minutes, and two tablespoons of olive oil, you got yourself a pretty good dinner. Note the take-out carton icon on the package - that's a pretty accurate assessment, and for a fraction of the cost. Our favorite local Chinese place sells a quart of shrimp fried rice for about $7, so once we pay tax and tip the driver and his little assistant we call Short Round (see this for that story), it's pretty much $10. This? $2.99. That's it. More importantly, tastewise, it's about right on par with typical takeout fare. All the rice and veggies taste right, and it has about the right amount of shrimp, which also tastes right, like most TJ shrimp offerings. I have only the smallest of complaints, and really, it's more like a quibble: I personally think it's kinda weird that's there frozen scramble eggs in it. Not that they taste bad, and I certainly include eggs while making my own fried rice, but frozen eggs kinda skeeve me out, and I'd rather have the option of including my own. That may be just me.

Sandy's a little less high on it than I am. I think it's because I have her spoiled. Not to brag, but for a pasty, gingery Pennsylvania Dutch boy, I make some darn good fried rice. She likes all the little spices I mix in, and I also make sure to dice the onions smaller just the way she likes them so she can't really see them, either. Admittedly, since I also favor my own, next time we pick this up (and there will be a next time) I'll dress it up a bit as it's kinda, well, not bland but more like just plain and unspicy like what you'd expect from a restaurant. As is, Sandy will give it a three, but since I think it deserves a better fate than that, I'll overcompensate a bit and go with a four 'n a half.

Bottom line: Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Ming's Pad Thai and Peanut Satay Noodles

So...I have to start this entry off with a congrats to Russ and Sandy, the other half of What's Good at Trader Joe's, on the birth of their first baby, an adorable girl, born on 7/11/12. Awesome. Everybody's healthy and cute and ready to eat more Trader Joe's food. Rock on.

You might not want this stuff to be the first TJ's food in baby's mouth. Number one, I'm not sure infants are supposed to eat semi-spicy, highly-salty, instant-type noodles. But since Sonia and I don't have a kid yet, there's absolutely no way to be sure. Number two, they're really not that good.

Sonia preferred the Satay. I preferred the Pad Thai. Make no mistake, this stuff is not nearly as disgusting as Trader Joe's Satay Peanut Sauce. That stuff tasted rancid. This stuff just tasted...not that good.

Both dishes were void of texture, except for some very cheap noodles in a slimy sauce. They weren't rubbery, which in my opinion, would be the worst-case scenario. They weren't tough. They were just there. There was no meat. There were no vegetables. No crispy ricey things. Just noodles. And sauce. We both decided they needed a little something. So we added the only other thing we had in our freezer: Lean Cuisine Fajita Spring Rolls, which by the way, they do not sell at Trader Joe's.

And some people say we're not real foodies.

The spring rolls added some vital texture to the dishes and made them edible. Sonia stuck with the Peanut Satay. She said the Pad Thai tasted sour. I thought the Peanut Satay tasted sour, when it should have been, like, nutty and sweet. Both of us put Sriracha on our noodles. It helped. But in any case, I think I'll opt for ramen in the future.

On the right is displayed the nutrition info for the Pad Thai. Let it be noted that I was not able to display the nutrition info for the Peanut Satay opposite the Pad Thai because Blogger is being difficult right now. But I'll go ahead and tell you that there are somewhat fewer calories in the Peanut Satay. If anything, that's evidence to support my case: more calories = more deliciousness if you ask me...the Pad Thai is slightly better. Sonia's tastebuds must not be functioning correctly.

At any rate, she gives the Pad Thai 2.5 stars. And 3 to the Peanut Satay.

I give 3 stars to the Pad Thai. And 2.5 stars to the Peanut Satay. At $2 per box, I guess you get what you pay for.

Trader Ming's Pad Thai Noodles. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Ming's Peanut Satay Noodles. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Oriental Rice Crackers

It's been a while since I've complained about the name of a Trader Joe's product. But this one affords me a golden opportunity to do so. Not Trader Joe-San? Not Trader Ming?  Perhaps the lack of an ethnic name stems from the fact that no single nationality lends itself to these crunchable little ricey puffs.

The good people at Trader Joe's, no doubt assuming that all Eastern peoples enjoy crisp ricey puff things, went with a name that suggested the entire continent of Asia. Not "Asian," of course, but "Oriental." I thought we had left that term behind in the 90's, but Trader Joe's has resurrected it successfully with these intriguing, snaxcellent morsels. Makes you wonder if TJ's will ever offer us a hot dog-ish meal or something entitled "Trader Joe's Occidental Meat Sticks."

The Rice Crackers are ultra-crispy. They taste like rice. Which, to me, is good. I like rice-based foods that taste like rice—because I enjoy the taste of rice. And yet, it's not just the taste of rice in these snacks. There's some kind of toastiness. And some kind of moderate spiciness in certain ones. And my favorites are the ones wrapped in seaweed. Yep. Some of these rice-snacks are wrapped in a bit of seaweed tasting very much like TJ's famous Seaweed Snacks. I'm not sure whether I like rice or seaweed better....hmmm....rice. No seaweed. No rice. I've just achieved the record for the greatest number of uses of the word "rice" in any What's Good at Trader Joe's paragraph ever. 10 times. Sonia, get Guinness on the phone!

Anyhoo, they're good—if you like rice and seaweed. Highly snackable, fun little shapes. They have a unique, yet somehow strangely predictable taste. I knew what they would taste like before I put them in my mouth. Which makes me think I've eaten something similar in the past. But my mind is shot these days...and I can't quite put my finger on what it was. Sorry.

Sonia says they remind her a bit of Corn Nuts. Maybe a little. That wasn't what I was thinking of. But I can see that.

Sonia gives them 3.5 stars. I'll give 'em 4.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.