Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce

The following is a true story: I was probably somewhere around 4, maybe 5 years old one night as my family had a movie night. It probably wasn't the best choice of movies - I don't recall if it was something like King Kong, Godzilla, or maybe Jaws - I truly don't remember - but there was some type of monster in it. I'm naturally a little squeamish about such things, and I'm guessing perhaps a little more so when I was so young, but there was some type of scene with a fair amount of blood in it. As it was a black and white film, it wasn't particularly gruesome, but it was enough for to get pretty darn scared and upset, and so I collapsed into my mother's arms. It was then, in an effort to comfort me, that she uttered the seven words that have helped shape my life to this very day: "It's only ketchup, Rusty. It's only ketchup."

Yup, to this day, that's the reason why I don't like ketchup. At least, it's the reason I tell myself why. It's convenient enough and makes a neat little story. It's kind of ironic, seeing that I live in Pittsburgh literally just a few miles upriver from the original Heinz factory. But the truth is, I don't like most condiments. Not ketchup. Not mayo. Mustard, only occasionally. I don't even like most salad dressings. I think some of it has to do with the farty sounds they sometimes make when squeezed out of the bottle. But, mostly, I just flat out don't like them.

Except hot sauce. I will always make an exception for hot sauce. As evidence, you could see my recently polished off glass gallon jug of Trappey's Red Devil. Or instead of traipsing all the way over to my house (the last thing I need right now is a stalker or two), you can see the picture above of my recent purchase, Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce. This is a serious hot sauce. As a lover of many hot 'n spicy things, I have a natural inclination to discount most things that say they're hot - I figure most products manufactured for mass distribution will not be enough to satisfy my capsaicin cravings, and so I severely underestimated this when dousing some chicken breasts with this sauce as I was about to sample it for the first time. That was an awful, awful mistake. "Liquid fire" isn't adequate enough description. Nor is David Letterman's old saying of "Hotter than a dancing bobcat with its ass on fire," whatever that means. It's freakin' hot. Sandy was in the kitchen with me, and I think gasped out something along the lines of "Close your eyes!" - not because I didn't want her to see me tear up (which I was), but for a moment or two I wasn't sure if the Ark of the Covenant somehow got cracked open in our kitchen. The hot sauce was so hot, and my mouth in so much pain, that if it were a reasonable solution to remove my head and put it in the freezer for a while, I would have. As you can tell by perusing the ingredients list, it's water and some habeneros that have had the heck Slapchopped out of them, and that's about it. It's thick, a little gloppy, orangish, and flat out hot. Respect it.

And you know what? I genuinely like it. Just trust me when I say a little bit goes a long way. I've dripped some a couple times since while making myself a quick quesadilla, and it's much more tolerable then. One thing I definitely like is, although it's face-meltingly hot, it doesn't cover up the flavor of food as the heat builds and builds in the back of your throat. I know it'll take me a while to work through the bottle, and I'll probably dabble with some other hot sauce in the meantime, but the habenero hot sauce has itself a new fan. Sandy's not as crazy as I am, and seeing that she's had some heartburn, etc, recently, she hasn't given it a try and I kinda have some doubts that she ever will -truthfully, this is out of the league for most folks. Not me, though. Although it's almost enough to make me go all Homer Simpson on*, it's a winner in my book.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Habenero Hot Sauce: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I'm completely divided as to whether or not the hot sauce making me having a hallucination that consists of Johnny Cash speaking in cartoon coyote form would make me like it more or less. On one hand, it's Johnny Cash as a cartoon coyote. On the other, well, I'd probably need to be checked out afterwards.

Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie Butter

If you're like me, or rather like I was just several short minutes ago, you haven't the foggiest clue what speculoos are. But now that you've checked out that wikipedia link, you feel somewhat enlightened. The first time I had ever seen or heard this word was right there on the jar of this product.

But a bigger - and perhaps slightly more revealing clue to the taste of this Cookie Butter is also right there on the jar, but closer to the bottom: "gingerbread." Ah, now you're speaking my language, Trader Joe. I know what gingerbread is. I know what gingerbread cookies are. I know what gingerbread men are. I think most of us have seen Shrek.





And the part about being "deliciously unusual" kind of made me raise an eyebrow the first time I read it. Any time you use a word like "unusual" on the label of a food product, you had better add something about deliciousness, or you simply won't sell your product. It's just kind of a marketing no-brainer.

But at any rate, marketing gimmick or not, the phrase "deliciously unusual" pretty much nails this TJ's Cookie Butter in my opinion. "A deliciously unusual spread reminiscent of gingerbread and made with crushed biscuits." That whole spiel is pretty darn accurate, if you ask me, except for maybe the very last part.

Oh—and for those of you who don't speak British, "biscuit" is what they call a cookie in the UK. However, I find no evidence of any cookie texture at all. If this stuff ever came in the form of a biscuit or cookie or whatever, it has been pulverized well beyond recognition. The phrase "crushed biscuits" makes me think of chunkiness. But this stuff is smoooth. Aww yeeeah. Smooth like you should be imagining Isaac Hayes saying "smooth" instead of a nerdy foodie-hack white boy—which, incidentally, is how you should be imagining the rest of this article being spoken—if, in fact, you imagine food reviews being spoken out loud as you read them at all.

This stuff is...just...good. We tried it on pancakes and toast. Win. Win. Tried it just off the spoon. Win. It's not at all oily. It's smooth like butter, but it's actually better than butter.

"Better than butter, baby," interjected Isaac Hayes.

That's right. If you like - or really even just tolerate gingerbread, I can't imagine you not liking this product. It's in the upper echelon of spreads. It's right up there with Peanut Butter, Nutella, and Marshmallow Fluff. Really probably better than Marshmallow Fluff. And I like Marshmallow Fluff.

Sonia agrees that it's a winner. This is exactly what we expect from Trader Joe. A weird product that's actually good. Uniqueness done right. TJ's takes risks—and while many of those experiments fall flat on their faces, this Cookie Butter is case in point for why this blog exists.

4.5 stars from Sonia. 5 stars from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Organic Whole Wheat Penne Pasta...and More

Sundays usually are my favorite day of the week. I really don't care that the day after Sunday is Monday, meaning a whole new work week. My take on Mondays is, they make up 1/7th of your life, so you may as well enjoy them. Thursday, though? If I had to say I didn't like one day of the week, I think I'd pick Thursdays. By then, I'm usually ready for it to be Friday, but it isn't yet. That's really not Thursday's fault, as I'm guessing it just drew the short stick in the days of the week rotation, but tough noogies. Anyways, Sundays. Love them. Like this past Sunday, it meant a little sleeping in, church, lunch with my folks who were visiting from out of town, a run out to get a crib on sale and to make a stop by the used bookstore before visiting a friend who just had a baby, and some Rita's before finally heading home to relax with some Netflix and our puppy. All in all, it was a good day, and despite some of the busy-ness, it was pretty relaxing, too. In fact, it was so relaxing that it took a couple episodes of "Bizarre foods" to realize how hungry we were. It was time for dinner, and both Sandy and I needed something good and easy.

I quickly thought to myself, "Okay, we have Trader Joe's Organic Whole Wheat Penne Pasta.... a bag of his Party Size Mini Meatballs...and some of that Giotto fella's Three Cheese Pomodoro Pasta Sauce....voila!" Pasta and meatballs are such a good comfort food, yet so simple, so let's run thru these one at a time here.

First off, we have the whole wheat penne, which in the gluten world is the complete opposite of these a-maize-ing noodles. Both Sandy and I really like the corn pasta (pretty happy there's a widened selection at our usual shop!) and to be honest, we should have stuck to it. The corn pasta tastes pretty close to regular noodles, whereas these, not so much. Simply stated, these are too wheaty, in all the wrong ways. Appearancewise, these boil down to this very drab, unappetizing watery colorless grain tube. The penne itself is thicker and chewier (think of the difference between homemade bread made with and without wheat flour, and you got an idea), while tasting kinda grainy. I guess we should've expected that. I liked them a little bit, which is more than poor Sandy did. "Blah," she said. Yet, we plowed on thru them, because it's not only bad to waste food, but also we had...

...a good helping of Party Size Mini Meatballs to go on them! Whoo-hoo! Party on, Wayne! Well, okay, they're not so spectacular. But that doesn't mean they're not good. Each meatball is made of both beef and pork (two animals = bonus) with whatever the usual kinda meatbally spices are. They're pretty well seasoned, for sure. I also like them because, as opposed to regular-size frozen meatballs, these mini guys defrost all the way thru while cooking them. Unless I cut them in half, the bigger ones tend to scorch on the outside while remaining tundrified in the middle. I figure these are a good option if you're the type who likes to fancy-glop up some meatballs on a toothpick for a party hors d'oeuvres, too, but for the two of us, they work for a regular ol' dinner. Both of us, despite the shortcomings of the pasta, enjoyed pretty much every bite that had at least a little meatball action on t, particularly if also smothered by....

...some of Trader Giotto's Three Cheese Pomodoro Pasta Sauce! To be honest, I'm not a fan of most of TJ's pasta sauces as they come in a jar. I find I have to doctor them a little bit to make them palatable to me. Not this. There's not a thing I would either add to or subtract from this sauce. It's light and mild, certainly not acidic, and has plenty of cheesy goodness to it between the romano, Parmesan and asiago cheese. I'd venture to say that unless you're a shaker cheese addict, it's fairly unnecessary for this sauce. There's also little bits of diced onion and garlic in there. It's just good. The only thing is, there's occasionally a medium-ish chunk of onion or cheese or some other ingredient that get's mixed in. I've noticed that in a few different jars we've bought, and poor Sandy (who's chunky-cooked-veggie adverse enough as is) pulled one out of her bowl much to her displeasure, and looked at me quite incredulously as I first inspected then ingested it. "Weirdo," she said. She certainly got that part right.

Anyways, so that's that, except for ratings. I don't recall the exact prices on these, but think the pasta was around $2 for the package, whereas the meatballs and sauce were more in the general $2.50-$3 range. Put us down for low marks each for the wheat pasta (say, a 1 for the Mrs. and a 2.5 for me? Not gonna argue.). For the meatballs, let's say a 4 each, and for the sauce, a 5 for me and 3.5 for my beautiful wife. I'm guesstimating her marks based on reaction and a couple things she said. Clearly, her favorite part of our dinner was the meatballs. I should have been more of a gentleman and offered her some more of mine, and even pull out the whole "Lady and the Tramp" routine, but I liked them too much myself, especially with my favorite TJ pasta sauce so far. I'll save the wheat pasta for a night when I can choke them down as she babysits...like she usually does on Thursday nights when I rarely see her much...hmm, coincidence?

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Organic Whole Wheat Penne Pasta: 3.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Party Size Mini Meatballs: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Giotto's Three Cheese Pomodoro Pasta Sauce: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Tuscan Italian Dressing

Considering Russ's last post was an Italian item—or at least an item with an Italian-sounding name, I figured I should go ahead and do this Tuscan Italian dressing and keep the theme going for a bit. I'll just start off by saying this is one of the best salad dressings I've had in a long time.

We had it with spinach and lettuce and onions and...well, you know...salad stuff. And really, just a very simple salad and this dressing is all you need for a tasty side dish. I was quite impressed.

Lately, I've come to develop quite a taste for balsamic vinaigrette, and also raspberry vinaigrette. And I've always had a thing for creamy Italian. This delectable dressing tastes like a combination of creamy Italian and raspberry vinaigrette. There's no mention of raspberry on the label or the ingredients, but to me, there's some kind of berry-esque-ness implicit in every bite. It's subtle, but I could swear it's there. Sonia agrees.

Sonia likes it because "it's not too oily or salty." She also likes it because she's obsessed with Tuscany and insists we need to go there someday. And, ah, perhaps someday we will...on our massive year-long backpacking through Europe journey that we've dreamed of since we met. And, hey, if all of the dressing there is as good as this one, I'll be a happy camper. Way to go, Trader Joe. Shoulda gone with "Trader Giotto" for this one. It's that good.

We totally dropped the ball and didn't take a pic of the nutrition information for this one. But we can tell you that there's 10g of fat in a 2 tablespoon serving, which is actually pretty average for a salad dressing of this kind.

Sonia gives it 4 out of 5 stars. I'm gonna go ahead and give it a 4.5. Imagine that: candy-craving, junkfood-loving me giving a salad accessory a near-perfect score...

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cocoa Almond Spread

...what's that you say? "Better than Nutella"??? Them's fightin' words where I come from!

Someone on our Facebook page stated that about the new Trader Joe's Cocoa Almond Spread. Fair enough, I say, we're all entitled to our own opinions. That's kinda one of the premises of this whole blog, after all. But when at Trader Joe's for myself and seeing this on the new product endcap and it say so right on the product tag, well, we're in for a scrap.

See, I love Nutella. My wife Sandy says that's an understatement. It's gotten to the point that whenever I purchase it, I have to be a jar for me and a jar for her, mostly because I want to eat it all while she wants to be sure to have some handy whenever she wants. I'm sure she's hiding her jar somewhere...wish I knew where...I wish I had the chance to do something like that to her. Want to know a truly decadent and kinda weird way to enjoy some Nutella that I just discovered? Try Nutella topped with crumbled bacon on a whole wheat waffle (the whole wheat is to make it healthy). Freakin' amazing. Just don't over do that, Elvis.

Anyways, if TJ's claims to have a better chocolate nut spread than Nutella, there's only one way I know how to determine the winner: a full out, jaro-a-jaro, chocolatey cage match to the death!!!...err, to my belly! This method helped crown the king of fake sausage a while back so let's get it started.

Ringside Introductions: In the left corner, from Canada, weighing in at 13 ounces of pure choco-nutty tastiness, costing $3.99 (but conveniently on sale this week for cheaper at a non-TJ's), ladies and gentlemen, it's Nutella! Wooooooo!!!!!

On the right, coming to you from Belgium, also weighing in at 13 ounces, the unknown challenger, also costing $3.99, is Trader Joe's Cocoa Almond Spread! *mild applause*

Round One: First Impressions: Nutella comes in a oval-shaped jar with a round opening, which I know from experience makes it slightly tough to scrape out every tasty tidbit. It has very plain looking packaging but full of cool stuff like "over 50 hazelnuts per jar" (for the 13 oz size) and disclaimers stating to not refrigerate or microwave it. It doesn't say why but I like to believe that it has Happy Fun Ball-like properties if improperly provoked. The TJ's has a round jar and a cooler illustration on the front (both plusses), but the name's kinda clunky. "Cocoa Almond Spread"...hmm...maybe like "Can-u-tella it's not Nutella?" Ok, that's lame, but a step in the right direction. No fun nutty statements either. Judges' decision: draw.

Round Two: Nutrition: Look at the pics and figure out how you'd split that. A few differences? Sure, but nothing definitive enough for me to make a call. Ingredient lists seem to be pretty similar with the obvious exception of Nutella having hazelnuts and, from what I hear, the Cocoa Almond Spread having almonds. Maybe that makes a difference to you, but it doesn't to me. Ohbytheway, they're both terrible for you. Judges' decision: draw.

Round Three: Appearance Upon Opening and Spreading: Twist the lid open and bust the foil seal on either of them, and you'll be greeted by much the same sight: a brown smooth vat of deliciousness waiting to be devoured. The TJ's is kinda darker, though, and doesn't have as much of a glassy sheen. Pretending they were marching towards a tar pit of muddy despair, I grabbed some animal crackers to dip in both. The Nutella seems a little softer when dipping things in, as it draws out and curls up a little bit more than the TJ's. The Nutella also spread better on top of bread when tested. The TJ's was close, but not quite as dippable/spreadable. Judges' decision: Nutella, but it's close.

Round Four: Texture: Pretty related to the third round, of course. Along with its slightly superior spreadability, the Nutella is creamier and lighter than the Cocoa Almond Spread. The TJ's is more dense and lays a little thicker and lingers around a little longer in your mouth. Both have their plusses but.. Judges' decision: Nutella. To me, it's close. To Sandy, not so much.

Round Five: Taste: In the first four rounds, we have two draws and two slight advantages to the Nutella, leaving the TJ's brand with a fighting chance if it tastes better than its competition. And again, it's close. Imagine if you will two heavyweights fighting at the top of their game, and this is what we got. This ain't Little Mac against Mike Tyson here. And as always, it comes down to taste, and taste invariably comes down to preference. Like milk chocolate with hazelnuts and a little extra sugar? You'll like Nutella. Almonds and dark chocolate? The TJ's just may be your winner. Both are rich, full of chocolate, and with the toasted elements of their respective nuts being present. Nutella tastes a little richer and kinda silky, if that makes sense, while the TJ's is just more straight on. To me, they're both appealing and both tasty, and I'd eat either one of them and be a happy fat kid while invariably smearing it all over my face. But we can have only one winner. Judges' decision: Nutella.

Post Fight Wrap Up: Sandy likes them both, too, but it's a clearer decision for her. I'm not sure what she'd rate Nutella at, but it's on my personal pantheon, so Nutella is an absolute five for me. Trader Joe's Cocoa Almond Spread is step, however small, below. I'm wavering between a 4 and a 4.5. Not shabby there, rookie. Sandy's not quite as enamored with the TJ's. "The texture's a little bit weird and kinda off," she said. Also, as she flatly stated while climbing into the car a morning or two ago after sampling it for the first time, "The Trader Joe's just isn't as good as Nutella. Taste isn't as yummy." So there you have it. Sandy said she'd three it up. Seems a little low to me, so I'll go with that 4.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cocoa Almond Spread: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Seafood Blend...and More

Hello everyone! Hope you don't mind the slight break we at the WGaTJ's team took last week with Thanksgiving and all. Sandy and I did a quick run out (left kinda late Wednesday, came back e-a-r-l-y Friday because my cubicle apparently missed me) to the Philly 'burbs where my folks live to go the annual turkey day get-together with oh, roughly 70 or so family members at a campground. That's considered an average, maybe even slightly small, year...yup, there's that many of us, and we're constantly growing. Needless to say, there was lots of great homemade food, from everyone from my mom to my cousins to my great aunts to the folks I can't remember who they are but dang they made a good pie so they're always welcome. Between stomach prep and food comas, between Sandy and I, we just didn't eat all that much TJ's last week. That's a nice change of pace. We truly hope you enjoyed yours.

Anyways, by Saturday night we had almost recovered and were kinda tired of turkey for the time being, felt kinda lazy (driving 300+ miles then working a full day the day before then a long day of plaster wall work does that to you), but still were in the mood for something that could almost pass as homemade-ish and definitely comforting. And no turkey or potatoes, please. We decided on a simple, easy to make dish of some seafood alfredo pasta, just hoping it'd hit the spot. Fortunately for us, TJ's sold the main three parts needed for our dinner, so let's review how they did.

First, the seafood. We used Trader Joe's Seafood Blend for this. Honestly I haven't spotted this at our usual store, but the weekend before last, Sandy and I checked out the new South Hills shop (inside a former Pier 1) where we saw it and picked up. Man, South Hills, not only do you have more stuff, but nice, wide aisles, too. The East Lib store's jealous. Anyways, the seafood blend is pretty basic. It's just frozen shrimp, calamari rings, and bay scallops. Out of all of them, the shrimp kinda stands out as being the best to me, but then again, I'm usually a shrimp guy. All the bites I had seemed to be about right - the shrimp was definitely firm yet tender, and the calamari was kinda chewy and tough, and somewhat reminiscent of when an old high school buddy tricked me into eating one at the Italian restaurant from the movie "Big Daddy"on a field trip to NYC back in my junior year.* Truth be told, I haven't had scallops more than once or twice that I can recall, and they were a little mushy/ever so slightly gritty, but I presume they were on-target enough and were palatable. As a whole, the seafood blend wasn't salty or mushy or just kinda crappy like other times I've gotten frozen seafood at other stores, and I presume the blend is versatile enough for a variety of dishes.

Next, the alfredo, as in Trader Giotto's Alfredo Pasta Sauce. When I think alfredo sauces, I usually think pretty mild, kinda bland, slightly cheesy white sauce. Yup, well, that's what this is, a fine example of the genre. The sauce has all the typical ingredients like romano and parmesan cheese, a little garlic, so on and so forth. I could kinda taste it, but it seemed to just cover everything with white stuff and not do much else.Although I'm not an alfredo aficionado, I'm not saying this as a negative. It's just that, I wish alfredo sauces had more to them in general, and TJ's wasn't an exception. That being said, the alfredo sauce definitely added the needed "comfort" to our dinner and help tie everything together pretty well.

Lastly, the pasta noodles themselves. I'm not a resident pastalogist, so I'm not entirely sure if Trader Joe's Egg Pappardelle Pasta was the most appropriate of choices for a seafood alfredo, but it's what we had and truth be told, they worked just fine. Sandy and I love our carbs (not pictured above: the garlic bread we demolished as well) but a package of these, about half the seafood and half the sauce seemed to make two generously sized dinners that slid into our over-expanded tummies pretty well. The noodles were a big part of it. They're big and thick and not wimpy at all...I might actually fear taking lashes from a wet one of these. Okay, well, probably not, but they're not weak, but firm with a bite to them. I can easily see using these to make different soups and all sorts of pasta dishes.

Altogether, they made a pretty good pairing. I kinda misplaced the receipt for this** but I think the seafood blend either 7 or 8 bucks, the sauce was $3-something and the noodles were probably $2 or so. I'd put the dinner about on par with something you'd get at the Olive Garden (just without the fresh ground pepper), so $13 for two good dinners at home plus some reserve supplies is a decent win as opposed to more than twice that out somewhere. I think it's kinda silly to rate each item separately, as we enjoyed them all tossed together, and it's kinda hard to single out just individual items as they're not made to be enjoyed alone. Sandy, who cooked it all up for us, was pretty pleased and made some nice friendly "mmm"s throughout the course of our meal. I was mmming right along with her. We'd both brandish our dinner with a good solid 8, so that's what each of the components will get.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Seafood Blend: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Giotto's Alfredo Pasta Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Egg Pappardelle Pasta: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Jerk told me it was an onion ring.
** Let's hope the IRS doesn't audit....:)

Trader Joe's Thai Red Curry Sauce and Low Sodium Soy Sauce

Sandy and I are coming up on our second anniversary in the next week or so. Don't worry, I know the date and got a special night set up for us. Know what got me talkin' with her a few years back? A cake. Seriously. For a church picnic, she made a homemade lemon lavender cake with white chocolate cream cheese frosting...I swear to this day one of the best things I've ever eaten, it was so impossibly good. I found out she made it, saw she was cute, knew she was single, and the rest is history. Due to the hours she spent baking it, Sandy's on record as saying she'll never make it again, which I'm strangely okay with, seeing as that I'd prefer not to keep fending off any more happy-bellied suitors. That cake's already got her one man, thank you very much.

Despite her baking prowess, I am predominantly the chef in our household, though. Not that I'm supremely talented or anything, but it just kinda works out that way more times than not, probably because I'm holed in a cubicle all day as she's wrestling a classroom worth of older toddlers. I tend to try and look at what we have and go from there. Have bread, cheese, butter, and leftover soup from our weekend crockpot-o'-goodness? Grilled cheese and soup for dinner. Bacon, eggs, and a certain hankering? Breakfast for dinner. Seeing as that we have a Home Depot bucket full of rice in our kitchen, we go to that fairly often for all sorts of tasty meals, and we nearly always have chicken and onions (which I chop under careful spousal supervision to make sure they're small enough under threat of revolt) and other tidbits around, so fried rice/chicken-and-rice dinners are pretty common, too. The question is, how should I make them tasty and different enough to keep them from getting old?

One decent choice is Trader Joe's Thai Red Curry Sauce. Is this the best curry sauce ever? Nah. We've gone out to enough Thai restaurants to know it's not in the running. But how many world class curry sauces do you have lurking around your pantry shelf? Thought so. It's thick, creamy, sweetened from the coconut milk, fairly rich, and a little kick to it. That's the main problem - the kick just isn't strong enough. Granted, this comes from a guy whose Thai waitress once said, in an equally polite and incredulous tone, "I have never seen a white person eat as spicy food as you." That earned her a big tip. The pureed red chiles just don't do enough, and when the ingredients say "spices" I presume that's just salt. Still, it's complex enough (I liked the little bit of ginger you can taste), with a little sweet and a little spicy, and most importantly, it does well enough when simmered with some chicken and served with rice to make a fairly good, satisfying dinner fairly quickly. There's also a yellow curry sauce available, and although it's been a while since we've had that, I remember it being pretty decent too, maybe even a little spicier. At the local shop anyways, it's $2.69 a bottle, and with a little discipline it can last more than one meal, though we're usually tempted otherwise.

Another go-to option is the Low Sodium Soy Sauce. Hmm, looking at the label, I'm not sure how that qualifies as "low sodium"...is regular soy sauce that much worse Na-wise?...eh. I've made my one nutritional stand recently to hold me over for a bit. Anyways, I frequently use the soy sauce for making a good-size batch of fried rice. Used to be that along with the soy sauce, I'd toss in different spices to try and come up with a good flavor combo. What does the trick for us now is a little extra soy sauce to get that flavor in and a sprinkling of crushed red pepper to add a little heat. It's a little sweet, definitely salty, and deep and robust, and it brings out a lot of goodness with chicken, rice, eggs, peas, peanuts or whatever else I toss in. TJ's soy sauce delivers a winner nearly every time unless I botch something up, like the time I confused the cinnamon and cumin. That was kinda weird. A bottle lasts a while, and it's something like $2 a pop, which is a small price to pay for some dependability for your rations.

I pressed Sandy for her opinion on the Thai Red Curry Sauce, and she gave me one of those looks. "32," she said. I pointed out that's not a valid Golden Spoon rating, and that there's no way she liked it 6.4 times as much as one of our favorite ice creams. "Arrrrgh, sometimes I just want to eat something and not try to rank it," she said. Poor thing. Must be tough to be hitched to one of the nation's prominent foodie-hack bloggers (and a self-indulgent one at that), with the pressure being what it is.* I finally figured out that by "32" she really meant "4" for the curry sauce, and I thought it best to not press my luck and ask her to rank a soy sauce, of all things. I can tell she likes both though, because when I present her with a hot dish of either, after a few bites, she usually says to our pooch, "Wimbles, Daddy makes good dinner. Yumyumyum." Both sauces make for one of the major flavors, so she's gotta like 'em both. I'll presume a 4 for her for the soy sauce as well...aww heck, matching fours all the way around. We're harmonious like that.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Thai Red Curry Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Low Sodium Soy Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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*I'm not even recognized at the Pittsburgh store yet. That has to change.

Trader Joe's Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips and Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa

Ok, so I'll admit it. I was kinda tempted to look up some surfer lingo for reviewing the Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips to drop in and make myself sound cool or something. Thing is, Sandy and I aren't even close into fitting into the surfer crowd, and me trying to sound like I do would, like, totally sound bogus or something. Busted, man.* All it took was a couple short hours at Huntingdon Beach in California on our September vacation to confirm that, during which time due to a sunscreen spray snafu I ended up with a second degree sunburn on my back. Unrighteous, dude. But I guess that's just the price I pay for my pale ginger beauty. Sunburns at night are a real thing and those who suffer from them shouldn't be mocked.

Okay, I made that up. It's better than me trying to make up too many other surfing similes while trying to review a bag of chips and jar of salsa. Other than being shaped vaguely like surfboards, there's no relation I can make from these chips to surfing at all. I can't even say that Sandy and I channel surf while munching on these, because we decided to not have cable and any shows we watch (currently "Law & Order: SVU" and "Phineas & Ferb" ... interesting combo...) we stream from Netflix via our Wii. I thought couchsurfing might be a term, and it is, but not what I thought it was (although fortunately a work-safe link to click).

So yeah, anyways, the tortilla chips. Pretty decent, actually. They're long, flattish ovals (hence the "longboard") made from stone-ground white corn and lightly salted. There's not much to them tastewise, of course, which isn't a bad thing. They're really not too much different from a typical crunchy, salty, fried, tortilla chip aside from two things: 1. They're organic and 2. The shape. Somebody thought, apparently that these were an ideal shape for dipping, which I can see if you're going for the bottom half of a tall skinny jar of salsa or something. Dump your dip in a bowl, though, and it loses that advantage and makes it no more and no less than just a chip. They're all kinda wrinkled and crinkled a little differently, so I don't see what makes these so exceptional for dipping. Also, I'm not sure if it was directly because of its long slender shape, but there seemed to be an inordinate amount of busted-in-half tortilla chips in our bag. The Tostito Tortilla Scoops seem to be the best for salsa-bearing capacity and capability, though I like the overall taste of the TJ tortillas better and appreciate that they're organic and lower sodium per serving (as if we can stick to those, unfortunately). For a bag of chips in the $2-$2.49 range, they won't change your life or anything, but chances are you won't be too displeased.

And of course, a good tortilla chip needs a good salsa. I could make a joke about TJ's Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa bringing in a "tidal wave of taste" bringing in a "flavor wipeout" or something, but nah. What I will say is, darn good salsa. Let's see, first ingredient is tomatoes, which are generally red, tomatillos, which are green, and yellow chiles, which my sources tell me are, in fact, yellow. Add them all up with some onions and other stuff like garlic and cilantro, and it makes the greenish reddish brownish jar of tastiness. Everything seems fairly well pureed so it lacks any big chunks, much to Sandy's delight, and goes down easy. The tomatillos, which salsa verde is made from, adds some mild depth to the flavor while the yellow chile adds some roastedness and a kind of sweetness. It's far from being a spicy salsa, but it seems to me to be one of the most flavorful of the Trader Joe salsas, and for once not in a nasty overly vinegary kinda way. It's so good I can eat it by the spoonful, and I'm already envisioning using it in some of our soup recipes which call for a jar of salsa. We made some tortilla soup a week or so ago that I put just plain salsa verde, and that lacked a requisite snap. This salsa won't have that problem. I just went shopping again yesterday and have already made it a repeat purchase. For $2.29, it'd be hardpressed to be beat, although a little more spice would make it absolutely killer.

Sandy and I ate quite a bit of the chips and salsa few nights ago while relaxing, and this was a definite winning combination for the both of us. Neither one of us have anything too bad to say about the chips, nothing overly affirmative either except hey, they're organic, so they must be good for you or something. Or at least better, so we can feel less guilty while chowing down. I think we settled on matching 3.5s for the surf-inspired longboard chips. The salsa? Sandy's judgement: "Mmmmm it's sooooo goooooood...let's eat more tonight!!!!" That translates to a four. My call is, I really like it, quite a bit, actually, but wish it ended on a slightly less sweet/spicier note. Really, just a tidbit more spice, and we got ourselves a pantheon candidate here. As is, I'll give it a 4.5 just to taunt it a little bit.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*See what I mean?

Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef and Taco Seasoning Mix

Nathan sure was right a few posts back. We really do like our desserts, and probably from the looks of me, a little too much. I guess it's not that surprising that Trader Joe's, in my estimation, has a lot of tasty sweets. But tasty fake meats? I'll admit it, as an avid carnivore, that's a shocker. There's the soy chorizo, the first item I ever reviewed for this blog, and still an every-trip pick up. The veggie sausage turned out a winner, even over the more famous national brand. Heck, I don't even really like corn dogs all that much, but the Trader Joe's Meatless Corn Dogs? Sandy and I got them a couple weeks ago, and dang it...tasty. Good call, Nathan.

So...Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef. Once we saw it, based on our good fake meat history, Sandy and I figured it'd make a worthwhile purchase, despite its problematic name a la the soy chorizo. This time, it's all English, no fun with Spanish. See, the "Beef-less" kinda cancels out the "Beef" part of the equation, leaving this as simply "Trader Joe's Ground," as in, like, dirt. So, buying something that kinda resembles dirt, and its label practically says it's as much, so as I began making it the other night I was sure hoping it'd be something more suited for my belly than our garden out front.

Tell ya what: I don't think it's as good as the other fake meats listed above, but still, it's pretty decent. It comes fully cooked and vacuum-packed so for some quick tacos after a babysitting night, it made an easy choice. Consistency-wise, it's not quite regular ol' ground chuck, but it crumbled up okay enough, and I suppose it's moist enough that one could attempt to make meatballs and burgers out of it. Still, it's kinda obvious that it's fake when you chomp in. Rubbery or chewy or smushy isn't the right word...just fake-ish. But, the beefless beef tastes alright. It definitely comes a little seasoned on its own, but not overly, so it's the kinda thing to do with what you will. I think Sandy and I would be up for trying it out in some lasagna or try to make meatballs or do whatever else we want to the next time we go on some crazy meat-free kick.

Anyways, if you're making tacos when it's late and you're hungry, you need an easy way to spice up your carne dementira. So why not some Trader Joe's Taco Seasoning Mix? I'm usually the type who likes to spice my own meat and chili and all however I see fit by grabbing whatever off the spice rack and going all Bobby Flay on it so I'm kinda anti pre-made spice packs. I picked up a pack a weekend or two ago for making some homemade white chicken chili, though, because I wanted to pay some more attention to the pierogi I was also making, and man, that was good chili (even Sandy liked it!). And somehow I found another packet in my pantry, so I figured, why not for our tacos. This is some good good spicy stuff. It's heavy on the cayenne and chili pepper, with a good dash of black pepper, too. In other words, my kinda mix, except I didn't make it. It's definitely spicy, although, naturally, a little too heavy on the seasoned salt and salt in general.

In all, our tacos were pretty good and hit the spot while we caught up on "Glee." Yes, I watch "Glee," with my wife, so she'll let me watch football every once in a while with minimal grumbling...sometimes. It's not like I kinda sorta like the show or anything...but some of those kids got talent...okay, back to fake spicy meat. Sandy gave the beefless beef a three, mostly for texture concerns, while she really didn't say anything much about the seasoning mix except to say "mmm...spicy." I guess that means a four from her. Let's see, for me, I'll go with a 3.5 for the fake beef, I think, and perhaps another 3.5 for the taco seasoning mix. I kinda liked them both but for the beef, it just wasn't quite all there enough somehow, and I just like my own random spice combos over some prepackaged deal, however good it may be. In all, not bad for a quick fix, but sometimes the real deal just has to win.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Taco Seasoning Mix: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix and Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend

Hooray it's fall. That means: ever encroaching dusks, cooler temps, leaves changing, playoff baseball, football on TV at least four nights a week (much to Sandy's chagrin), and Sandy hogging all the blankets every night (much to mine). Fortunately, for all involved, it also marks the return of all things pumpkin. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin coffee. Pumpkin beer. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin seeds. Peanut butter pumpkins. Pumpkin everything. I know lots of people who, like Linus, await the return of the Great Pumpkin every year, except instead of sitting in a field with a blockhead, they're just waiting for shelves everywhere to be stocked with pumpkin-related goodies. Me? Meh. I like them and all (especially my mom's pumpkin pie), but tend not to go berserk and light up Facebook with pics of the Dunkin Donuts Pumpkin Latte sign the first morning it appears like some of my dear friends (you know who you are). I can appreciate a good pumpkin-related treat here and there, as can Sandy, but I'm more eager for the holiday goodies up around the bend. Til then, though, pumpkin overkill, here we go.

Well, we already know thanks to Nathan that Trader Joe's makes a decent pancake mix. What's it like if we get in the seasonal mood and toss in some pumpkin? The Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix kinda scraps the "all purpose" facade (what do you mean, it can't fix the teeny leak in my roof?) and goes for the pumpkin jugular. Or so you'd think, if your Trader Joe's is anything like ours, where boxes are prominently piled near the entrance and hailed as the newest and greatest thing since, well, last week. Sandy and I decided to give it the old college try a few nights back to see if it was worth the hype.

First, the mix definitely smells pumpkinny, like pumpkin potpourri, almost. I'm half-tempted to sprinkle some in my car for air freshener. It smells good. Taste...well, almost. You get the sense of it, and there's a little tinge of nutmeg and cinnamon and allspice and ginger, and it's just enough to remind you that you're eating something slapped with the pumpkin label. But it could be a lot more, well, pumpkin-like. We've actually had it twice now. The first time, Sandy made some crepes for us and our friend Lisa, and while good, we all felt like there was something a little amiss. Maybe it was because they were thin crepes, we said. Well, to test our hypothesis, and to see just how easy they are to make, I, Russ, took it upon myself to make a batch of regular-style ones for tonight. I've never made pancakes before, and like my reviewing counterpart, while I can make lots of good food, there's some stuff I need some grace on kitchenwise. Anyways, my initial fears aside, it's enough to mix up with some milk, melted butter and an egg, and managed to not set off the smoke alarm and make some pretty darn respectable flapjacks for dinner if I may say so myself. This time around, our dinner was a little more pumpkinny, but it still sided more on the under-toned part of the scale.

And of course, you can't have pancakes without some syrup to drench them in. Trader Joe's does have some pretty decent maple syrup, but that Joe, he just has to experiment a little, doesn't he? Enter his Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend. I'm by no means an all-out syrup snob, but generally speaking, I strongly dislike the fake Aunt Jemima junk and much prefer the real stuff (kinda partial to Vermont origin, but Canadian-born is acceptable, too). Okay, maybe I'm a semi-snob. Well, this semi-snob doesn't know all that much about agave syrup except Trader Joe's has another organic blue agave syrup that Sandy gets every once in a while to mix in coffee instead of sugar. That and usually it's Mexican. Our neighbors to the north and south apparently then tagteamed each other in making this syrup, and it's okay. It's not as thick as 100% pure maple syrup, of course, and is definitely more sugary and sweet than amber-y and maple-y. I suppose we should have figured that. For three bucks, it's okay I guess, but for another buck or two, you can do better at TJ's. Much better.

Still, make some pumpkin pancakes and slather on some maple agave syrup, and it makes a good meal. Kinda like the recently retired REM's discography (and exactly the opposite of this year's Philadelphia Eagles squad*), when taken altogether, it's greater than the sum of its parts. Maybe I'm trying too hard to get into the autumn mood, or maybe I just really really really liked the cinnamon honey butter that Sandy whipped up, but I liked the combination both times around more than I liked either the pancakes and syrup separately.

Sandy, who usually is more into pumpkin and funky goodies than me, had more or less the same reaction both times around. The pancakes could taste more like pumpkin, and the syrup could taste more like maple instead of maple/sugar goopy water. Without too much hesitation, she branded each with a three. I'm inclined to agree with her on the maple agave syrup (I'm betting it'll sit in the fridge for a long time) but, when thinking of my two pancake dinners in the past three nights and reasonably enjoying each one, I think the pancake mix gets a four. For me, I guess if I had to decide between "too much" and "not enough" pumpkin flavor, I'd go with "not enough." It certainly beats getting another rock in your trick-or-treat bag, Charlie Brown.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons Trader Joe's Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I can say this only because I'm from the Phily area and have been an Eagles fan since the Randall Cunningham era. Randall-freakin'-Cunningham. I will allow no other smack talk about my team from anyone else who is not an Eagles fan. I guess, though, that we can add "delusions of grandeur" to Vince Young's psychological issues.

Trader Joe's Sugar, Chocolate & Coffee Bean Grinder

There's some things that hold a lot of appeal for Sandy that, while I understand on a certain level, I'm not really all that enamored by. Take, for instance, gadgets like any e-reader device. I know that as humans we come preinstalled to like anything with a glowing screen as a standard feature, but, to me, if you're gonna read a book, make it an actual book. Not Sandy. She's been researching these and polling friends left and right about the Kindle, Nook, and whatever else is out there these days as she's been saving up her babysitting dollars for one of these and has been talking about them endlessly. We've talked about it, and I get the arguments for, like ease of portability (Sandy at any time can have up to seven books in a backpack, though I believe she can still only read one at a time), but the arguments against are much stronger to me, such as: breakability/durability (like if you were planning to read at a beach, would you really want to take one of these? Think of all the places sand could go), risk of theft (airports, etc), "another screen," and finally, just, there's something about a book and holding it in your hands and turning actual physical pages that make it a more satisfying experience. And don't get me started on the iPad and other tablets. It strikes me as just being an iPhone for old people, kinda like the large print Reader's Digest you see at nursing home versus the regular sized ones. If they could be a viable, versatile-enough alternative to a laptop, sure, I could be on board, but until then they seem like some overall gimmicky marketing ploy to get folks to spend money they don't have on things they don't need. Maybe I'm some old school ornery codger, but I just don't get it. Sandy definitely does, and we've come to more or less a truce about it, and chances are she'll be picking up a Kindle or something soon, and maybe then I'll see the light. Til then, meh.

Of course, this is a bigger example of something that plays out in much smaller circumstances. Take, for instance, Trader Joe's Sugar, Chocolate & Coffee Bean Grinder. Last week, Sandy spotted it on an endcap touting TJ's new products and immediately started this kinda weird, silly, not remotely serious little"gimme gimme oh please please please" dance that immediately said "You better put this in the cart, there, Mister." Since it was something like two bucks, eh, sure. Cheaper than an e-reader. Sandy's little dance was definitely cute and gave me a chuckle, so I didn't mind, but whenever we have a kid and Little Russandra does that, you can bet I won't be so amused.

Okay, so I get the appeal of the sugary chocolatey coffee beany grinder guy. There's a built-in grinder that, instead of dispensing tellicherry pepper or sea salt, grinds up sugar crystals (both brown and white), chocolate bits (dark?) and coffee beans wherever you can dream it can go. Good in theory. The side of the grinder says it goes great with ice cream, coffee, and toast, among other things. Sandy's preferred method of consumption is to hold it high and grind directly into her mouth*, which she did once we got home like a sugar-deprived lunatic, and still does occasionally when she thinks I won't know but I can hear the telltale scrapy-grindy sound from the living room. Anyways, I tried it on vanilla ice cream, which was alright. I could definitely taste the three main elements and it almost made my ice cream not taste like plain vanilla, and added a gritty, crystally texture that though a little odd wasn't completely unwelcome. When ground on top of coffee, it honestly didn't add too much, which shouldn't be surprising if you think about it. While okay with buttered toast, if I wanted something sweet and tasty on toast and have it not be jam, I would have much preferred the timeless classic of cinnamon and sugar. And finally, straight from shaker to mouth...meh. That's a silly, not overly rewarding thing to do if you ask me. Overall, I think it's safe to say it just doesn't tickle my fancy all that much.

If you ask Sandy, though? She loves it. Besides the aforementioned methods of consumption, she's also put some on top of cottage cheese and maybe yogurt, too. She loved it with ice cream and with toast, but agreed with my thoughts about it with coffee. And I hear her grinding away in the kitchen often enough to know that she's happily plotting her next cavity in a way she finds most satisfying. Sandy said she gives it a four, which I thought was low for her but made sense when she explained, "It adds flavor, and it's really good, but it could add more." Me? I think I've made my opinion fairly clear, but to summarize it strikes me as being something akin to parsley for your desserts. Looks good, but doesn't do much of anything worthwhile, a Paris Hilton of the pantry, if you will. I'm going with a 1.5.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* For some reason she wouldn't let me take a picture of this. I can't imagine why.

Trader Joe's Fat Free Spicy Black Bean Dip

Before I ever met Sandy, I seriously doubt I ever ate a single black bean in my life. There's not a single childhood dinner I can recall with them included - the only beans I can remember were green, Boston baked, or red kidney when my dad and I made chili. And I think my mom very occasionally made lima beans when my siblings and I were being jerks and deserved to eat something nasty. But black beans? Except black jelly beans (my absolute favorite - there was a candy stand my folks took us to every Easter Saturday that sold a bag of only black ones - I was in heaven), nope. I'm willing to bet my surviving baseball card collection on it. It might be worth a whole $20...thanks early '90s market glut!

But once Sandy and I started spending some QT together, one of the first things I learned was, girl loves her black beans. Loves. That might not be strong enough of a word. Any way she can eat them, she will and be on Cloud 9. Black bean burgers, omelets, quesadillas with corn too, beans and rice with chorizo, bean chips, pizza, brownies...the only thing she won't touch with black beans is my homemade chili. She has no idea what she's missing. I've quickly learned to really enjoy them, too and I'd say they're now considered a definite staple of our diet, and I don't mind that one bit. They're good, wholesome, tasty, and satisfying. Both Sandy and I like hot and spicy fare as well (I can stand hotter and spicier, but she has a pretty boffo palate, especially for a girl), so hot and spicy, black bean based dishes are almost always a hit for us.

Which is exactly why TJ's Fat Free Spicy Black Bean Dip is so incredibly disappointing. If TJ's dips and salsas were Jennifer Lopez, this would be her "Gigli." If it were Sean Connery, this would be George Lazenby. If it were a basketball team, it would definitely be this year's Miami Heat...sans the heat, that is. And what talents Lebron James may or may not have brought.

Hate to do it, but I have to call out the pepper spice-o-meter on the label on this one. It's about 2/3 full, so I was expecting it to be at least somewhat spicy. Well, the dip is 2/3 full...of vinegar. Once again, Trader Joe's, VINEGAR ≠ SPICE. No no no no no no no. I took a bite tonight and immediately made the bitter beer face the instant this assaulted my taste buds. Ugh. It was if someone condensed all the flavor from a bag of salt and vinegar chips, ground it down and dumped it into the one corner I lifted with my tortilla chip. Each successive bite wasn't much better except I was able to brace myself better and not stomp as much. Maybe that's your kind of thing. For me, heck no. To be honest, by now, I so distrust that pepper pictogram and believe it is so full of lies and deceit I expect it to run for office any day now, or at least call me about a credit card offer.

That's all you taste, the vinegar. Nothing else. TJ's might as well have marketed this under dark vinegar hummus-y matter. Sandy, who likes it marginally more than I do, wholeheartedly agrees. "I wish it actually tasted like black beans or was actually spicy," she said. I concur. I look at the ingredients label and wonder where all the other stuff is - Onions? Jalapeños? Bueller? - it's indiscernible in this horrid mix of blahness. I took several tastes of it trying to figure out if there was any other aspect to the flavor but there's absolutely none. It's just nasty, not the nastiest thing I've ever had from Trader Joe's, but not too far off either.

Like I said, though, the love of my life also loves her black beans madly, and like she has to do with me from time to time, I think she affords the black bean dip a certain level of grace. She gave it a two despite her misgivings...then again, she loves salt and vinegar chips, too, but this is a low, low grade for her with anything involving black beans as a primary ingredient. I have to go lower. I originally thought one, to give it some of the doubt, but seriously considered a zero too. I think something has to be truly epically bad to be given a zero, though, and this falls just short of that criterion. Half a star from me. Hate to be harsh, but have to call it as I see it.

Bottom line: 2.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Corn and Chile Tomato-Less Salsa

One of the best parts of writing for this blog is using it as an occasional forum to poke some light fun at my wife. Food is a pretty easy and tame avenue for me to do so. A few years ago as we were beginning our dating relationship, I remember it taking a lot of effort (and trial and error) on my part to try and learn Sandy's "food rules." Chili? No. Red meat? Except for a burger here and there, nope. Some vegetables are okay, others aren't. We kind of turned it into an ongoing joke where I said I'd need to keep a spreadsheet of what was and wasn't okay, and when. For example, squishy cooked vegetables are flat-out never acceptable. Onions are okay only sometimes, such as onion flavor, but Sandy doesn't like big chunks of them, except for onion rings. I really wanted to learn these rules so I could impress her and make sure when we were going somewhere there would be food choices she would like. I took it quite seriously, to the point where one night early on in our relationship when I was making a homemade dinner and dessert for us, I felt compelled to ask her if she liked from-scratch chocolate chip cookies because I didn't know and didn't want to make them if she didn't. As she can attest to, Sandy certainly loves them (who doesn't?) and probably wonders why I don't make them more often (the answer = like we need more cookies).

By now, I've grown so accustomed to them I rarely have to think about them much. It's kind of like natural knowledge at this point. And to her credit, I think she's opened up to more kinds of foods. But there's still one sure-fire food item that she'll refuse to have nearly any part with: tomatoes. Except for maybe a little ketch-up and just enough sauce to make her pasta noodles semi-red, Sandy wants nothing to do with them. Increasingly, salsa is getting some more leeway for her in this department, even though she's still a little wary of the chunkier varieties and prefers salsa verde, which is made from tomatillos, over the more usual salsa types.

I guess that's why Trader Jose's Corn and Chile Tomato-Less Salsa appeals to her so much. There's the huge upfront plus of no tomatoey guts being spilled for its sake. Plus, it's something different than the usual variety, though I'm not so positive about its authenticity as an actual salsa class instead of being a gringoey gimmick. Correct me if I am wrong. The only other time I've seen or heard anything about corn-based salsa is at Qdoba's or Chipotle's, and though I've never tried it there, that stuff has always appeared to me to be more spiced corn than an actual salsa. That's how the TJ's brand strikes me as well, except to say it's spiced is a little bit of an overstatement. It doesn't have the spicy pepper meter that usually overstates heat level on the jar label, and I'd like to think that was on purpose because, to me, it'd barely register a blip. There's a little heat that emanates from the back of your throat after a corner-of-a-chip-ful or three, but that's about it, and it's more than balanced out by the overall sweetness. Like any good American food product, the two chief ingredients in the salsa are corn and sugar, which makes the salsa seemingly syrupy-sweet. There's not nearly enough jalapeños and spices to combat it with any sort of effectiveness. It's kinda like flinging rubberbands at a tank - not gonna work. One good thing the salsa has going for it is, it's decently fresh tasting as the corn kernels taste like they were just stripped from the cob, and certainly not mushy but good and firm, almost crunchy in a way.

Anyways, Sandy loves it. Last night, as I came downstairs after a post-work/pre-dinner shower, I could hear her rustling our bag of soy and flaxseed chips shut followed shortly by the sound of a jar lid being screwed back on. I got to the kitchen just in time to see her one step away from our fridge, half-gone jar of salsa in hand, with a very guilty look on her face. This is an extremely common scenario in our house, except with the roles reversed. Granted, we poked at it some the night before, but she did some serious work on it while I was washing away the day at work. "It's just so good, I could eat it by the spoonful," she said. "Apparently," I said as I shook my head and tsk-tsked her. I couldn't be too mad not only because I've been the guilty party in this situation way too often and therefore thought grace would be the wisest route to go, but also because honestly I don't like nearly as much as she does. I'm going to have to go low and give it a 1.5. Sorry, while it's a good premise and has potential, it just doesn't have enough spice to hold my interest, and it's way too sugary-sweet for me to even try to pretend it's a mild, enjoyable salsa for me. While she agreed it needed to be spicier, Sandy was so joyful about finding a salsa she liked without tomatoes, she literally broke out into song as she scaled our stairs to turn herself in for the night with a good book. "It has no tomatoes, it has no tomatoes, that makes me happpppyyyyy, it has no tomatoes," she sang to our beloved little fur baby as he no doubt shot back a quizzical look. Sandy toyed with giving it a perfect five before settling on a 4.5, tripling(!!!) my score. Usually we agree more or less on our rankings, so this type of split is definitely unprecedented and hard to repeat. Sandy's probably happy though, because since I don't like it so much, it means more for her.

Enjoy the rest of the jar, dear. All yours.

Bottom line: 6 out 10 Golden Spoons

Trader José's Hot Chipotle Salsa

Finally, a hot salsa that's actually kinda hot. The little chile-meter on this baby is mostly full. Plus, it tastes like actual chipotle chile peppers. It's not quite as hot as chipotle peppers by themselves—if you've ever had one, you know that they're pretty spicy—but I think it's darn close. However, like all of their other salsas, Sonia thought this one lacked heat, too. I think it's a step in the right direction, though. I'm pretty sure this is the spiciest TJ's salsa we've had so far.

I wasn't aware of this before, but chipotles are actually a dried, smoked variant of the jalapeño. See here. Somehow, they seem much spicier than a regular jalapeño to me. But what do I know? Soy solo un gringo loco.

Most products they slap a "chipotle" label on here don't really taste that much like the real thing. I'm happy with the flavor of this salsa. Authentico. The label claims it has a "slightly smoky taste," and it's not lying.

Fat free. And in theory, it'll raise your metabolism. Burn baby, burn. Try it with the Super Seeded Chips or the Soy and Flaxseed Chips.

Sonia and I each give it a 4. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Apocryphal Pita and Roasted Garlic Hummus

Trader Joe's sure is a little funny sometimes with their marketing and branding, if you haven't noticed.

It goes beyond their creation of different character names depending on the product inspiration and their pretty uneven utilization, which I find endlessly fascinating for whatever reason. Why are only some Chinese products Trader Ming but not others? Is Thai Joe a one-trick pony? Who determines this? And some of the product names...some are pretty long-winded and over the top, no doubt. The illustrations on some packages are kinda weird, too. I think it all adds to the allure of the place and the shopping experience. For me, I find a certain level of entertainment in it all.

I had another reminder of this when Sandy and I started poking around the first aisle of the local shop in search of a good snack to share for the week. TJ's has a great selection of different chips and salsas which we've inventoried and digested a fair amount of, but we found ourselves wanting something kinda different for a change. The bread shelves are the first ones to smack your eyeballs when wandering in where we go, so we figured that'd be a good enough place to look.

Hey, look, we found ourselves some pitas! But not just any pitas. Trader Joe's is only too happy to tell us they're apocryphal, too! Sounds fancy, but what's that mean? I'm usually not too much of one to use a big fancy word when a diminutive one will do, so I have to admit, I had to look it up to remember what it meant. Apparently, it means "of questionable origin." Hmm. Way to go, TJ's, in making us feel confident about this purchase of ours. I don't really expect a bag of pitas I get in the middle of Pittsburgh to be exactly the same as the ones from a Turkish street vendor (in some ways those could be more questionable ...) but at least keep the facade in play, please. I kinda liked the picture of the guy in monkish garb apparently training for some Middle Eastern World's Strongest Man competition, though, and despite the lack of the letter s, there are, in fact, a plural amount present per sellable unit.

They're decent too. Made out of 100% whole wheat so I guess they fit the bill healthwise if your tummy can bear that. A little flaky, a little doughy, sturdy, a little chewy, and definitely pretty tasty, though kinda unremarkable overall. I think that's about the best you can expect from a pita. They're not to be the star, but instead the stage for whatever tasty creation you're prepping to cram on in. So, sensing this was an incomplete tide-me-over tidbit, we peered across the aisle and saw ...

Hummus! I don't think I've ever bought hummus before, though I've been known to eat in mass quantity when I spy it on a snack table somewhere. It is one high quality foodstuff on which to mooch. The Roasted Garlic Hummus resonated with me as not quite being the best I've ever had, but far from the worst (there was this Wal-Mart stuff one time ...). I recall it being smooth and creamy without too much of the graininess some hummus can have (I don't mind that, but I can do without). I guess I was a little disappointed with the overall taste, as it's not as garlicky as I would've hoped. When I want something that predominantly features garlic, I want it to be potent enough to fend off any vampires and bubonic plague viruses lurking anywhere in the tri-state region. The only exception to that is when my grandmother made garlic bread ... she's been known to go just a little overboard. Anyways, I've never roasted a stinking rose bulb on the barby in the back, but if I did, I'd imagine it tasting stronger than this (despite the lid saying mild), and not nearly as sweet. Yes, sweet. Sandy said she thought the sweetness more came from the pita when combined with the hummus, and though that may have accentuated it, I could taste it when I tried some of the hummus by itself. Garlic is supposed to be vigorous enough to render your breath downright offensive for a spell, not leave you pondering its sweetness. Overall, it's agreeable enough, I'd say, but it's not quite what I expected.

Anyways, the pitas and hummus made for some pretty decent, easy snacks for us, and worked quite well for a couple quick-bite-on-the-way-out-the-door scenarios. I think Sandy enjoyed it a little bit more than I did, though, mostly because she seemed to like the hummus a tad or two more than me. That's her, ever the gracious one. I didn't exactly get her rankings for these, and know it's not always the wisest to presume it's okay to speak for one's spouse, but I'll give it a shot and try to represent her opinions and thought process as fairly and accurately as possible. I'll go first and grant a four for the pitas and a 3.5 for the hummus. Pretty fair grade for some pretty fair chow. For Sandy, the pitas aren't bad, pretty yummy, she likes them and the hummus is really yummy, not yucky like it coulda been and about the only way it could be better would be if it were pink and sparkly and came packaged with a free penguin or puppy or a puppy and a penguin and baseball tickets. Or something pretty close to that ... I'm wagering that's a matching four for the pitas and a 4.5 for the hummus.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons for both the Apocryphal Pita and the Roasted Garlic Hummus

Hey .... c'mon now ... don't forget about this!!! Seriously, please.