Trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle

Like most of Everclear's song catalog, there's some things in life I used to love but now can hardly tolerate any more.

Like sauerkraut, there's other things in life I used to deplore but now enjoy.

And like the phrase "social distancing," I'm pretty sure there's some stuff that I'll just never get around to really cherishing, pretty much no matter what.

It's said that taste buds change every few years. I can see that happening - I used to do spicier than I can now, I like me vanilla more than chocolate most times these days. I change my mind on Yuengling about every five years as well.

But still, if there were one constant in my life, one thing that I always offered scorn and no adoration whatsoever, it'd be this: ketchup.

Never liked it, not even as a kid. Can't figure out why, it's just always been gross to me. Right now I live within literal walking distance of where Heinz squeezed their first tomato into an American staple, it matters not. Ketchup = nope.

I'm not alone in this, I know, but there's been some like-minded people who said that Trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle was a game changer for them. I've seen it on the Interwebs so it must be true.  So here goes.

First off: as an immediate plus, it's in a glass jar and not a squeeze bottle. I HATE squeeze bottles, especially when it gives a constipated sounding squelchy toot and watery discharge. Just...ugh. Glass jar for this highbrowed-sounding condiment, so a plus.

Everything else....ehhhhh. I don't hate it. but I don't like it either. I don't consume ketchup often, if ever, but the base strikes me as more or less a basic ketchup-y kinda sauce. It's maybe a tad sweeter, with a different consistency somehow, but whether ot nor that's accurate in a describable way is not really my wheelhouse. The truffles offer a decent backended twinge of umami-ish flavor that's pretty welcome. It's a nice kinda savory take, and I can see some people swooning over it. For me, it doesn't make up for the fact that it's all still ketchup. At least it's not catsup.

I was able to place a small portion on my plate, dab a couple fries into it, and take on down without too much struggle. So I don't mind that this new TJ's trufflicious ketchup exists, but it hasn't changeed my mind. My normally ketchup-loving kiddos werren't so fond on it either. it'll probably be up to Sandy, my lovely bride, to finsih up the remaining 7/8ths of the jar, which is gonna take a while. But at least it's hers. Happy Belated Mother's Day, love.

In her usually correct way, Sandy's asserting that the only reason why i'd dare give something like this a low score is only because I'm simply convinced I don't like ketchup. So take my score with a grain of salt - it's a two. I recognize it's quality but I'm not a fan, and that's ok. She'll go with a little higher.

Bottom line: trader Joe's Tomato Ketchup with Black Summer Truffle: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Thai Green Curry Simmer Sauce

Some Trader Joe's products seem to get more than their fair share of marketing attention. They get ridiculous, lengthy, lavish titles. They're presented with artsy, colorful packages and placed front and center in the store, maybe on an end cap or at the checkout counter. I'd say more than half the time, these items are gone just months after they drop, and they're forgotten about by the vast majority of patrons that purchased them. 

And then there's a completely understated line of Trader Joe's brand items. They're products that have been around for quite a while, and they need no clever marketing to sell. They get by on the merits of their quality and flavor. No cutesy packaging. No goofy nicknames. It might be just an unassuming jar of sauce with a modest amount of copy on the front—items like this product.

The sauce is super flavorful, medium-thick, and coats whatever foods you mix with it. It's not a sweet curry. I've had some curry sauces so sweet they were almost dessert-like. Not this one.

It's full of lemon grass, garlic, and shallot flavor. It's obviously coconutty, too, but the taste isn't particularly coconut-forward despite the coconut milk base. It's spicy, savory, and it makes your kitchen smell like an authentic sit-down Thai restaurant.

Sonia and I had it with mahi mahi fish for lunch yesterday, and it was scrumptious. Served with veggies and rice, it was one of the most satisfying meals we've prepared ourselves in a long time. All you do is put the sauce on your food in the skillet and let it simmer. So good and so easy.

The sauce darkened a little bit from the time we poured it out of the jar to the end of the cooking process. I'm not good with specific shades of individual colors, but I'd say it went from something like a pea green to more of an olive green tan light brown by the end...? Anyway, it's not much to look at, but it tastes good enough you probably won't care.

You have my word we'll continue to review those brand new nonsense-laden gimmicky products as they're released, but we'd be remiss in our Trader Joe's brand food reviewing duties if we didn't tell you all about products like this one from time to time. Delicious. Apparently, this version has only been around for about a year and a half, but I'm hoping it'll stick around and stand the test of time. 

At $1.99 for the jar, it's a steal. Four and a half stars from me. Five from Sonia.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Everything but the Bagel Greek Style Yogurt Dip

Pumpkin. Mango. Cookie Butter. Coffee. 

Trader Joe's latches on to certain themes and just goes downright crazy from time to time. I think we're on our fourth or fifth EBTB product at this point.

The thing about EBTB is that it comes in a shaker. It's designed to be put on/in anything and everything you want to try it with. It'd be pert near impossible to get pumpkin, mango, cookie butter, or coffee in the right ratios in the products that Trader Joe's has offered, but Everything But the Bagel Seasoning? I might be overestimating the average TJ's shopper, but I think we can handle mixing it into stuff ourselves.

If you do internet searches for "Everything But the Bagel Dip" you'll inevitably run across more than one result that mentions "Copycat Everything But the Bagel Dip."

The process for creating this copycat dip goes something like: 1) Take Greek yogurt 2) Add Trader Joe's Everything But the Bagel Seasoning.

As culinarily dim as I can be sometimes, I think even I might have been able to figure that one out.

So...most of our complaints about this product aren't that it tastes bad or has a poor texture, but rather that it couldn't possibly hurt to simply make your own. Sonia wanted lots more EBTB flavor. I thought the amount was just about right, but just for kicks, I tried adding my own, and I felt that the seasoning was somehow a little more crisp and potent when freshly added. 

I felt like something was lost by having the EBTB seasoning submerged in the yogurt indefinitely. The seeds just crackled in my mouth a bit more when they were fresh. I guess seeds don't really get "soggy" but perhaps they were a bit too soft...? Also, by adding your own EBTB to a yogurt dip, you can purposefully keep the dip dry and on top of the mixture, whereas all the elements are thoroughly stirred together in this mixture. An even better idea would be to have two separate little dishes side by side: one with Greek yogurt, and the other with Everything but the Bagel. Then you could roll your yogurt-covered carrot or what have you in the EBTB, getting just as much of it to stick as you'd like. You'd maintain the crunch and dryness of the EBTB while still adding Greek yogurt flavor to the mix.

Taste-wise, there's plenty of Greek yogurt tang in this dip. You can taste most of the constituent seasoning ingredients, as well, although your mileage may vary when it comes to whether you think there's enough of it or not. 

$3.50 for the tub. The nutrition info is innocent enough at 60 calories per serving. It's a tasty condiment, and it goes with just about anything you'd want to eat with yogurt dip. Even though it's traditionally cream cheese you put on a bagel, this works in place of it passably despite its relative thinness, in case you're looking for a lower calorie alternative. 

I just can't see us buying this product again, as we'd almost universally prefer to create our own concoctions with EBTB. Three and a half stars from the missus. Three from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Dill Pickle Hummus

Probably like most of you, I've spent a lot more time with my kids the past two months or so. And like most anything, it's somewhat of a mixed bag. Don't get me wrong, I love e'm a whole heckuva bunch, as I remind them to the point of eyerolls almost every day. They're incredibly smart, creative, funny, and remarkably full of grace. Somehow they took all the best parts of my lovely bride and I and made them even better. 

But man...they're also gross.

Like...please flush. And don't get cat food in the sink and just leave it. Also, I didn't think I'd have to tell them to not put random sticks from the neighborhood creek into their mouths, but here we are...and if given the chance they were double, triple, quadriple, and possibly even quintuple dip a chip into any dip they like.

Like the new Trader Joe's Dill Pickle Hummus, for instance.

We are a hummus and pickle loving fam, for the most part. But never did we think of combining pickles and hummus...although I don't see why not, I guess. There's enough natural overlap and complementary flavors that it could totally be a thing.

And make no mistake: this isn't merely dill pickle flavored hummus...there's dill pickles in the hummus. Just look at the ingredients. It's between the chickpeas and the tahini. Full out dill pickles, blended or mashed or whatevered in.

There's no textural disruption to this. Nah, it's just the classic smooth, creamy, cool hummus mouthfeel. There's some green flakes here and there, but nothing else to really tip off the presence of pickles either by sight or feel.

But taste and smell? Yup. Definitely dill pickles. The dill comes out a bit strong, and the vinegar and whatnot give a little extra tangy sour kick, but it's nothing unwelcome provided you like pickles. It all meshes well with the garlic and other other spices as well as the otherwise traditional earthy hummus taste. It's as smooth and scoopable as the day is long...and these are indeed long days, my friends.

No wonder my kiddos loved digging in their pita chips none stop. Heck, I wanted to, too, as I really didn't want more pita chips...I wanted more pickle hummus. Maybe those kids got my instincts with a little less manners cultivated as of right now...we're working on it. For now, we had to settle for separate bowls for everyone, so everyone could do as they wished. Hooray for more dishes...is anyone else's dishwasher running nonstop? Ours absolutely is, except when we're doing laundry or we're showering. No wonder the water bill I got yesterday was twice as high as normal. Yeesh. Gonna be one of those summers, but fortunately we got a new tasty TJ hummus to help us get through. It's a tour de fours all around.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dill Pickle Hummus: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Fruit Spread

Nothing says summer—or at least warmer weather—like watermelon: the fruit, the flavor, the culture. It brings to mind memories of more carefree days. It's a reminder that no matter how long the winter, spring and summer are sure to follow. 

2020 has been quite a ride so far, and I'm sure the fun's not over yet. But even in unprecedented and uncertain times like these, there will be unique moments of discovery and joy. Sitting out in the green grass and opening up this jar for the first time was one such moment for me.

I'm not saying this product is so good that it will universally provide transcendent moments of bliss for all who partake of its goodness, but it might do that for some. I'm sure a few of you have tried another version of watermelon jam, jelly, or fruit spread before, be it homemade or some exotic brand I've never heard of. But this was a first for me. Leave it to Trader Joe's.

It's exactly as sweet as I want it to be. It might be a little too sweet for some and not sweet enough for others, but to me, it is juuust sweet enough to be a dessert-like treat, but not so syrupy that I feel a sudden urge to compulsively brush my teeth immediately after consuming.

It truly tastes like watermelon, by virtue of "organic watermelon puree" being the main ingredient. "Cherry juice" is pretty high up on the list, too, and it provides a subtle kick of sweet-tart sass, but you'd never mistake the dominant flavor of this fruit spread. It's absolutely delectably watermelony.

There are no seeds or grit here. Fruit pectin and watermelon puree yield a very smooth consistency. As far as thickness goes, I think it's on par with a strawberry jelly type vibe, but again, with no seeds, fruit bits, or chunks of any kind. A version with little pieces of real watermelon might be interesting, but I'm not complaining about the texture here at all. The smoothness works perfectly.

I've tried it straight from the jar as well as on toast with a little cream cheese. I'm thinking there has to be a way to incorporate this product into a watermelon-flavored smoothie, but I'm not sure what else I'd throw in there. If we had any vanilla wafer cookies on hand, I'd try dunking them straight into this fruit spread. A topping for vanilla ice cream? Plain yogurt? Possibilities abound.

If you like the flavor of watermelon with just a hint of extra tartness and sweetness, I don't see how you'd hate this product. I think it was $2.99 for the jar...? It's unique and very tasty. I give Trader Joe's Organic Watermelon Fruit Spread four stars. Sonia will go with four and a half.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Onion + Chive Cream Cheese Spread

"How about that sour cream spread?" I suggested, fishing for other blog post ideas from my better half.

"Sour cream? It's cream cheese," snapped Sonia. 

I often take it upon myself to correct the wifey when she misspeaks, so it's only fair when she returns the favor. 

And I mean, she's right. It's a tub of cream cheese, like for spreading on bagels. It's not technically sour cream, nor is there any sour cream in it. And it's great for toast, bagels, English muffins, etc. But I've also used it as a chip dip. It's a little too thick for most chips just straight out of the tub, but if you nuke it for a bit, it gets nice and soft. Neither of us have topped a baked potato with it, but I bet it would work for that, too.

If such as thing as sour cream cream cheese ever existed, I'm certain it would taste a lot like this stuff. I don't know if you'd need to keep that redundant "cream" right there in the middle of the product title, but I think it would work either way. "Sour cream and onion" and "sour cream and chives" have long been favorite flavors of mine for chips, dips, biscuits, and loaded baked potato toppers. It makes a great breakfast bread spread as well, in case you were wondering.

There are visible green bits of chives throughout the cream cheese, although the overall texture is nice and smooth. I wouldn't have minded a "chunky style" with even larger and more ubiquitous onion and chive chunks, but then I'm weird like that, and I looove me some onions and chives. There is a scrumptious tangy, oniony flavor, and it's plenty creamy, too.

It's not going to go with most fruit-flavored bagels or jellies. It pairs best with plain or everything style bagels and breads, or maybe even something with a bit of asiago cheese. We can definitively report that it does indeed go well with EBTB seasoning also. 

Sonia's gonna try glazing some fish with it this week, and then covering with panko crumbs. Four stars from her.

Repeat purchase? Perhaps. $1.99 for the tub. Four stars from me too.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Glaze and Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts

Here's a fun, exciting review to leave you with over the weekend: Brussels sprouts. Hooray. Joy. Elation.

Honestly, I don't think I ever had Brussels sprouts as a kid. My parents loved to make me eat weird stuff that I didn't like, so I'm not sure how I avoided these salubrious spheroids of sustenance. I truly don't think I ever ate a Brussels sprout until just a few years ago. In that first instance, I had them with a balsamic glaze that absolutely blew me away. Also, they were cooked to perfection—slightly charred and crispy on the outside; warm, dense, and planty on the inside.

Sonia grew up with a French family as neighbors. When she'd visit their daughter Natalie to play, her mother would often provide snacks or meals, occasionally in the form of steamed, salted Brussels sprouts. While Natalie would happily pop the sprouts into her mouth like candy, Sonia, secretly disgusted by the greens, would choke down one or two and then slip away from the table under the guise of not being hungry.

Her view on sprouts has changed dramatically in adulthood. She now loves them when prepared correctly and served with the right condiments.

Since these True Belgian Brussels Sprouts came frozen, we might not have left them in the oven quite long enough. They weren't raw or cold on the inside, but they might have benefited from another 10 minutes or so in the heat. I like my veggies well-done.

Still, the glaze made them pretty tasty, at least on the outside. Trader Giotto's Glaze is moderately sweet and has a fermented essence from the "grape must." It's not unlike a port wine, but a bit thicker in texture. It's less vinegary than a typical balsamic dressing, but there's still a hint of vinegar underneath the grapey goodness.

We found that the glaze wanted to slide off the sprouts and wind up on the baking tray, so we reapplied it a couple times during the heating process. The finished product was definitely more flavorful that plain Brussels spouts, but we both wished we had found a way to get more glaze to stick. We applied some post-baking, and it helped a little, but the portion that had baked on to the sprouts was more flavorful and beneficial to the vegetable within. All in all, the glaze paired well with the earthy, nutty bitterness of the sprouts. We'll probably try it with oil and bruschetta in the future, and maybe some tilapia, too.

We both liked the glaze and think the price is fair at $2.99 for the bottle. Sonia may have been even more enamored with it than me, as I feel like any old balsamic dressing would serve as a flavorful condiment in instances such as this. At 99 cents, the large bag of Brussels sprouts is an even better bargain. That's a lot of nutrition for less than a buck. Your personal score for a bag of sprouts will largely depend upon your feelings about Brussels sprouts in the first place. I'm well aware many people are disgusted by them, no matter their age. In our case, Sonia will give it four stars, and I'll give it three. Sonia will throw out the same score for the glaze, and I'll go half a star higher.

Trader Giotto's Glaze: Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pappa al Pomodoro

Well, we know that in the last days a loaf of bread will cost a day's wage. When that day comes, it's time to go Mad Max on your neighbors to obtain some at any cost, because this stuff turns ordinary slices of white or wheat into scrumptious tangy tomatoey sourdoughy delights.

Just kidding about going Mad Max on your neighbors. We need to stick together now more than ever. But you should totally get down on your knees and beg them for a slice of bread if you don't have any, because it pairs really, really well with this stuff.

At first, I thought the box might contain a few pieces of bread or breadsticks, because look, right there adjacent to the soup...is a delicious-looking breadstick. But then I looked closer, and sure enough it says "serving suggestion" in the upper left-hand corner. But then I read the ingredients. Look! "Sourdough bread" is right there on the list right after "vegetable broth." I was overjoyed...until I opened the box several seconds later only to be crestfallen by the lack of sourdough breadsticks.

Maybe Italian folks already know this, but apparently pappa al pomodoro is a soup that's made with bread. I had no idea. What a weird concept.

But it's a darn good one.

After heating the product on the stovetop and pouring it into a bowl, Sonia and I sampled the soup by itself. It was very thick, tangy, tomatoey, and had just enough basil to balance the other flavors. I dipped a slice of semi-stale wheat bread into it.

Man, I don't know if I was just really hungry or what, but that was the best piece of bread I've eaten in a long time. The sourdough in the pappa al pomodoro seemed to magically transform my cheap, old bread into a scrumptious sourdough breadstick with an amazing Italian pasta sauce. We finished the bowl in short order, alternating bites of bread with spoonfuls of soup. Sonia was even more impressed than I was.

This fantastic pappa al pomodoro would work well as a pasta sauce, a pizza sauce, or as a stand-alone soup. $3.69 for two 9oz pouches. We like that it comes frozen and you can save it as long as you need to. We think this will be a repeat purchase. 

Perfect five from Sonia. I just wish it came with a couple little breadsticks. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Limone Alfredo Sauce

Ay yi yi.

A couple weeks ago, my lovely bride was mildly displeased with me. There could be any multitude of reasons why, but this one stuck out to me: on a busy night, she quickly roasted some veggies (Brussel spouts or green beans or something, doesn't matter) and sprinkled some garlic salt atop. She then mentioned how good they tasted. I, before tasting them, wished to put some Asian crushed chilis on my portion for a treat. This notion was somewhat offputting to her as I "didn't even taste" her "creation" before dumping whatever I felt like on it. Mmmkay. Disney version of what happened next: I deferred, as perhaps there's not some battles really worth waging...right dear? I love you.

Fastforward to late last week, when on another busy night, I made some quick chicken alfredo using the newish Trader Joe's Limone Alfredo Sauce. Just the sauce, some penne, and chicken. Sure, it was nothing fancy, but a creation of some sort nonetheless, plus as a targeted review item I wanted to have an honest opinion of the unaltered product....

What does my lovely bride do? Before tasting, she sprinkles some black pepper atop hers. I noticed and said nothing, but brought it up before writing this review. "It's because I know I like pepper on my alfredo," she said. Well...okay.

I'd give her a harder time about it, but man, that was a good idea. The Limone Alredo sauce (can I just call it "lemon alfredo" from here on out?) was a pretty great little sauce. Good stuff. Creamy and cheesy, rich with parmesan reggiano, with a little twist of lemon just to brighten everything up without going too tart or sour, well balanced...but it just needed a little extra something. And lo and behold, a little sprinkle of black pepper would be just about right. My wife is pretty smart and intuitive.

Alfredo sauce, in general, isn't a big deal with me. I can be either way, but this TJ's lemon-tinged one definitely strikes me as a good one, and is much preferable over a plain one. For my noods I'd rather go with a good marinara or a lighter melt some butter/sprinkle some cheese approach, but I can swayed to this again. I'd imagine it'd work well in any variety of alfredo-inspired dishes, with various proteins and veggies and whatnot. I'd love to slather some on some zucchini, in fact, but that'll be a next time kinda deal.

With her expert insight and addition, Sandy gives this sauce a solid 4.5, and only that because she, in her own words, "rarely gives anything a 5." Good deal. I can't say I'm as huge a fan, but maybe if I put some of those Asian crushed chilis on it...I kid, I kid. I'll do a 3.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Limone Alfredo Sauce: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Vegan Chicken-Less Seasoning Salt

I find it kinda funny how they decided to market this particular blend of spices. I wouldn't limit myself to only using this seasoning with vegan dishes...unless, of course, I were vegan. And I would think just about any spice would be considered vegan to begin with, unless it contained cheese—like the elote blend.

Anyway, onion, garlic, and turmeric are some of my favorite flavors on earth, so how do they go together? Quite well, just as I'd assumed. Tastes like chicken? Hmm. Well, lots of things do—particularly other non-red meats. This product? Not so much. Again, I'm totally fine with that, I just can't get over the marketing wizardry at play here.

I mean, it does sorta taste like the broth you get with chicken-flavored ramen soup. It's much more potent and flavorful than that, and a lot better quality, too. I don't think they put a lot of turmeric in ten cent fake chicken ramen, although maybe they should. Not only does the flavor go well with most soups, but it flaunts loads of health benefits, as well.

The flavor is somewhat salt-forward, by my estimation, but it's hard to stifle the savory flavors of garlic, onion, and turmeric together. None are significantly bolder than the others. Combined, they add a nice pungent zest to foods that otherwise might be on the bland side. We tried it with some potatoes and green beans and weren't disappointed. We had it with salmon, too, and were pleasantly surprised. 

I think this product is significantly more versatile than the aforementioned elote seasoning that we looked at earlier this week. Almost anywhere you'd want garlic, it's not going to hurt to have sea salt, onion, and turmeric as well. This seasoning just brings a broader spectrum of taste than any single one of its constituent parts. Sonia agrees and gives the product a thumbs up. She immediately compared it to Knorr Chicken Flavor Bouillon, something she grew up with. She likes this blend at least as much as Knorr's, so I think we're looking at four stars a piece here.

January and February 2020 have been long months. I think tonight we'll get warm, watch a movie, and have some chicken-less soup for the soul.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Everything but the Elote Seasoning

Circa 2008, while living in California, Sonia and I and some of our friends took a Saturday afternoon to visit the L.A. Zoo. We'd all been there before, but the zoo was just one of those things we'd do if we were bored since it was close-by and not too expensive. It paled in comparison to the San Diego Zoo, but the two hour drive and heftier price tag made our visits there slightly less frequent. We'd had our fill of Disneyland that summer, so the local zoo was decided upon. 

After watching some listless, despondent animals and groups of tourists reenacting the Three's Company intro, we started to get hungry. We rounded a corner somewhere near the hippos, and spotted an unassuming Latina lady with a big metal cart. One of our friends shouted, "Let's get elote!"

I had to turn to Sonia and ask what elote was. Moments later, I was watching the other members of our crew slather mayonnaise onto corn on the cob. "You put mayo on corn on the cob?"

And not just mayo. But cotija cheese, sour cream, lime juice, and generous amounts of red chili powder. For a moment, I thought it strange. But after I tasted it? Love at first bite. I'd eaten corn on the cob my whole life, and all I could think was, "Why didn't white people think of this?" 

Salt, pepper, and butter seemed so boring after having my first taste of real elote, but since it's not readily available on street corners outside the Southland, we haven't had true elote in a while. But let me throw my initial thoughts about this product out there to start things off: 

Is Trader Joe's Everything But the Elote Seasoning a unique, delicious condiment? Absolutely. 

Does it taste like actual elote? Well...kinda.

There are definitely detectable amounts of tangy cheese, spicy chili, chipotle, and salt, all of which I consider good and authentic as far as elote flavor goes. But I'm a little mystified as to why sugar is the number one ingredient—and you can taste it. It's definitely much sweeter than any other elote flavored thing I've ever had. Sonia's guess is that it's emulating the sweetness of sweet corn, or trying to at least. I still feel like the product would have been a tad stronger had it not been so sweet. I also wish there were a little more lime flavor. There's some "citric acid" on the ingredients, but nothing really lemony or limey comes through. I guess we could always mix it with the chile lime seasoning since it's a bit more lime-a-licious.

It's definitely a little spicy. There's an almost immediate warming sensation on the tongue, and if you eat a good bit of it, you feel it in your tummy, too. It's not super intense, but it's noticeable. I think you have to enjoy spicy heat to some degree to really get into this product. Sonia and I both love a little flavorful spice.

We found it went well with popcorn. Just sprinkle a good amount on the top of a bowl and it will cascade off the top layer and coat the kernels farther down. It's also great with actual corn niblets. We heated up a plastic baggie of Bird's Eye and tried it that way. It's a little more authentic when you have real corn. We squeezed a lime wedge into the mix and found it helped with the flavor immensely. My mother-in-law made some sopa de fideo con pollo with this seasoning. She felt like the Everything But the Elote made it much more flavorful and interesting, and she's been eating authentic elote for decades. 

For us, the final test will come when we can get our hands on some local corn on the cob, not in season in the northern midwest right now. Come August-September, we'll definitely try it and report back. Or somebody who can secure good corn on the cob this time of year leave a comment below.

Zero calories. I'm guessing since you sprinkle such a relatively small amount on the food, that you're looking at like half a calorie per serving or so, and there's some FDA loophole that allows them to round down to nothing. I'm sure some food scientist will enlighten us in the comments below while finding a way to make me sound stupid for not understanding the comprehensive FDA rules and regs for food labels. I'm just making an off-handed observation that I find puzzling, since sugar obviously contains some calories. No biggie.

My biggest complaint is the sweetness. Sonia's main reservation is the flavor of the parmesan cheese vs what real elote tastes like with cotija and sour cream. In general, though, we like it and will be experimenting more in the coming days and weeks. We're thinking we'll pair it with tortilla soup, beans, white fish tacos, and maybe even shrimp...? 

At the very least, it's a neat idea, and it yields some pretty unusual flavors of corn and popcorn. Three and three quarters stars each from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fig Butter

Ah, the wondrous fig. Did you know that figs aren't technically fruit? They're inverted flowers. And did you further know that there are, in fact, dead wasps inside each fig? Not particularly appetizing. But not to worry, the wasps are completely digested by the fruit—er, flower—by the time they're turned into delicious fig butter. Yum?

Anyway, this fig butter has been around Trader Joe's for a long, long time. It's been a mainstay on their shelves and in our pantry for years. Some time ago, Sonia took a recommendation from a TJ's employee to put fig butter and almond butter in a sandwich together. It has completely replaced peanut butter and jelly in her diet. I'll admit, it's a tasty combo, but nothing can take the place of good old PB & J for this guy.

Still, there are many uses for this yumtastic fig butter. I'll have toast with cream cheese and fig butter on occasion. It goes well with goat cheese and crackers. I'm sure you could use it as a glaze for certain meats, a topping for puff pastries, or even in a salad dressing mixture. What else could you do with Trader Joe's Fig Butter? You could make figgy pudding I suppose. Then when those carolers come around next holiday season you could really surprise them when they get around to that obnoxious verse in We Wish You A Merry Christmas.

It's naturally sweet, mostly smooth, and has just a bit of grit from the seeds. No, those aren't wasp parts, at least according to that article I linked to in the first paragraph.

This might be Sonia's favorite Trader Joe's product of all time. "Simply scrumptious," she says. Perfect five stars from her for this fig butter. I like it a lot, too. Four stars from me. I can't believe we didn't review this earlier. Better late than never, I suppose.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Furikake Japanese Multi-Purpose Seasoning

Over the years on the blog, I've referred to myself as an amateur-foodie hack on occasion. If memory serves me right, Nathan's the one who coined the phrase. I'm gonna take this opportunity to rebrand it, at least for my lovely bride and I, and say that instead of being actual foodies, we're really just eaters.

What's that mean?

If it's good, we'll eat it. Even if it's not "the best" or most acclaimed or authentic or true. Sure, we'll give that consideration and all, but at the end of the day, it's taste over everything else. Is Hattie B's the best, most authentic Nashville hot chicken joint in Tennessee? Nah, probably not....but danged if I don't still dream of them on occasion. To make a musical metaphor, is Imagine Dragons the best band around? Nah, far from it, but I can enjoy at least some of their catchy fun songs - "Zero" for instance, from Wreck-It Ralph 2 soundtrack. Yeah, we'll go to depths for our guilty pleasures. 

And (un)luckily for you, if it's a TJ's item I ate and have strong enough opinion on, you'll read about it here. Coming soon: another buddy and I are soon launching an Aldi's review site, so my goal of grocery world judging domination shall ever so slightly increase, muhahaha.

Sorry for the long windup for Trader Joe's Furikake Japanese Multi-Purpose Seasoning. But it's a great example of this. Do I know even the slightest thing, really, about furikake? Nope. I don't even know how to pronounce it - furry cake (can rewrite some really awful Twenty One Pilots lyrics, like our Facebook caption)? Foo-ree-kah-kay? Glad we're not doing the TJ's podcast at this time so you'd hear me butcher it as our producer buddy Marvo would slap his forehead in the background. We had such a long awkward conversation about how to pronounce "sriracha

But...I bought it at Trader Joe's. Cost only a few bucks. Looked like worth the shot. So I'm gonna go home and eat it. I'm an eater.

For such a fairly simply blend, there's a few different stages to the flavor which make this Japanese-inspired seasoning interesting. I think that's the right way to describe it instead of "complex" or "multi-leveled" as, if ingested just as a lonesome pinch or two, there's at first this funky seaweed taste, like straight up "whatever I just ingested was definitely floating in the ocean" type flavor, followed closely by toasted sesame and finally a good heavy dose of salt. Not sure if "savory" or "umami" really quite apply - more salty than anything - but it's a fun little mix...

So good to eat, but on what? Whatever, just go for it. I put some on some roasted green beans last night - much milder, but delicious. Eggs? Sure thing. I don't think it'd be much of a stretch to recommend on rice or fish or most sushi variants. Chicken? Heck yeah. Sandy dumped some atop her ramen noodles the other day, just to class them up a touch, and she's been raving about that since.

That is the one point: The furikake is mild enough that food flavor can overpower it and diminish it to little more than salt. Maybe that's why the pour opening is so huge - you can fit a penny through it - and a recommended serving is so much. I don't think I've come close to using that amount over several tastings.

Regardless, we'll eat it and try it on lots of different stuff. We're eaters now, ya know. If it tastes good, which I think the furikake would be on a high number of things, we'll do it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Furikake Japanese Multi-Purpose Seasoning: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Black Bean Dip

As a parent, one of the rules I have is "don't yuck someone else's yum." It's only polite, and encourages my kids to try new things. And naturally as a corollary, my kids aren't allowed to tell someone else they're not gonna like something, because, again, encouraging boldness and discovery. If you try, you're halfway to triump, and if you sigh, you're halfway to silence. So c'mon c'mon.

Obscure Rustic Overtones anyone? Anyone? One of the best concerts I've ever been to, like 20 years ago....I'm old.

Anyways, naturally, I'm guilty of breaking this rule on occasion, and most recently with my youngest who was making a beeline for Trader Joe's Black Bean Dip.

It was in best of intentions, even though I hadn't tried it yet. Look: jalapenos. Serranos. Even habaneros. This has got to be spicy, and I've seen my kids ingest anything with a hint of spice before...I didn't want to deal with it.

She tried it anyways, and come to find out, not only did she love it, there was nothing for me to worry about.

Listen: this black bean dip isn't spicy. At all. It's calm and surprisingly mild. Even the black beans at like Qdoba are way spicier. No heat, and no real flavor except cool black beans. Beans is all it is, it tastes. Sure, with a little work, there's a little sublety at play here - the smallest touch of heat, a smidge of garlic and whatnot - but no, not spicy. At all. None.

That's my major takeaway. My lovely bride thinks it has more flavor than I - it's possible, I've been scorching myself with the case of TJ's bomba sauce I procured recently - but she has another quibble. It's not really a "dip" per se. We broke so many chips trying to scoop out just a little. The dip is full of entire beans, with some smushed up as a paste-type deal to hold it all together.

More flavor, and perhaps a rebranding to "bean taco filler" or something hopefully more appetizing sounding than that would work. Really I could see this stuff working great as a base for tacos or filling up inside a quesadilla as a protein source. That would better use of its consistancy and allow for flavor optimization, so all problems solved.

In the end, I'm neither yucking nor yumming but more meh-ing. Same with my lovely bride. Double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Black Bean Dip: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken Dip

At no time, under any circumstance, is double dipping okay.

Don't. Just don't. Ugh.

I need to remind my kids of this constantly. I don't like to think I'm much of a germaphobe, but once something has been in somebody else's mouth I want nothing to do with it. It's gross. Listen - I don't even double dip when I know I'm gonna be the only one dipping. Don't do it!

Any serial double dippers out there? If so, shame on you, and I have a New Year's Resolution to propose to you.

All that being said, I'm double dipping this week when it comes to Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken Dip.

Key difference: it's all just metaphorically speaking after my earlier review of the Green Goddess Dip, in which I admitted I'm not a huge dip fan. The big exception, of course, is buffalo chicken dip - who doesn't love it? Gotta go for it.

TJ's take is about average overall, in my opinion. There's some definite high points. For instance, these plenty of shredded-to-bits breast that literally make the dip chock full of chicken. Copious amounts of meat is always a plus. And there's a nice enough of a cayenne-inspired sting that slowly builds, enough to be noticed but not ever unpleasant. It's maybe a four on a 1 to 10 scale of spicy, which I think is accessible to most folks.

Issue is...it's neither bird nor spice that make up most of the flavor. It's almost all sour cream. It's impact is somewhat dampened by cream and Monterey Jack, but also a little amped by the presence of vinegar in the cayenne pepper sauce. Because of this, when making my own buffalo chicken dip, I tend to stay away from sour cream. Buffalo chicken dip should be spicy, not sour, and here it is, mostly sour.

All that being said, yeah, I can eat my fair share of this dip, and probably more. As my lovely bride said, for being no work whatsover, it's pretty decent. But it could be better...much better. I've seen some online chatter about some other folks augmenting the dip with a little added spice of their own, which makes sense to me. Meh. Not great, not bad either, I'll take it for the $4ish bucks it cost for the tub. 

Both my wife and I want to give it a three, but since we ain't gonna double dip on scores, I'll sneak an extra half spoon on.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Buffalo Style Chicken Dip: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Green Goddess Dip

Apparently, and surprisingly to myself, I'm now a cat person.

To put this in context: over the past few months, my lovely bride and our lovable munchkins have been begging to get a cat. I'd roll my eyes and grumble every time. Evidently one evening, after imbibing a particularly potent potable or two at a local brewery, I agreed...to get one. As kinda like a Christmas gift for the family...not like animals are really gifts...but you know what I mean, I hope.

Well, now we have two. I got suckered into it. We've had Autumn and Cy in our family for about a week and a half now. I love 'em. Autumn is so friendly and Cy is still pretty shy. I was kinda sad when he hid in our basement for the most of the week and we couldn't lure him out, but I finally got to pet him for a good half hour or so last night. I will admit that I'm enjoying having these little furballs, so far at least.

What's that got to do with the new Trader Joe's Green Goddess Dip? No, I'm not recommending it as a snacktime condiment for ALF. It's just, I never thought this kinda stuff would be my thing, either.

If you're familiar with TJ's Green Goddess Dressing (I'm not), this dip is probably pretty similar. Except two things: look at first two ingredients: Sour cream (which I'm generally okay with, in moderation), and mayo (which I'm not). Apparently this makes the "dip" more of a classic green goddess dressing than the actual dressing TJ's sells...well, who knows.

The sour cream adds a little body and zip, and the mayo definitely helps thicken stuff up a bit. Other than that, the dips has all the hallmarks: citrusy, garlicky, acidic, a touch spicy but in a flavorful, not heated kinda way. I wish I could taste more avocado in it - all that seems to translate over for them is the color, and not as much flavor.

My only holdbacks, and this is just me, is the consistency. It's so smooth and gloppy and, well, dip-like. I just don't do dips. Why not? Couldn't tell you. I just don't. And while the green goddess dip isn't a complete game changer for me, after trying it I can totally get the appeal.

Sandy likes it more than I do. She actually employed it as a salad dressing for her lunch the other day, and has been scheming other ways to implement it. I might leave the rest of the container more or less to her - I might be too busy petting our new kitties anyways. Four spoons from her, I'll give it three.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Green Goddess Dip: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Autumnal Harvest Alfredo Sauce

Ah, there's nothing like the savory flavors of fall...squash, pumpkin, spices. Each year, we enjoy them all season long, from the first chilly autumn evening until well after Thanksgiving. They're delicious by themselves or all mixed together. Throw them all in a white pasta sauce and what do you get?

A disappointing bland paste that'll coat your dinner with sadness.

I'm sorry, but that's just how I feel. Sonia was thoroughly disappointed, too. There's very little in the way of squash flavor here. Simply eating an actual squash is far more flavorful. Absolutely none of the flavors come through the way they should. Parmesan and gruyere cheeses? I mean, parmesan, pumpkin, and squash can all be subtle essences, but, I mean...they're usually not THIS subtle.

This product isn't even that creamy. It's not super thick, it doesn't taste like milk, cream, or cheese. It's just a medium-thin, smooth pasta sauce with minuscule granules of butternut squash throughout. They're too small to be called "pieces." I mean, I know the word "pieces" doesn't really carry a size value innately, but a term like "bits" would seem a little more accurate somehow.

Salt, shallot, parsley, nutmeg, and black pepper should yield something with a little more flavor. We served it with brown rice pasta. We cleared our plates, but it was one of the most unsatisfying pasta dishes we've had in a long time. Not that we'd purchase it again, but if we were ever to try this sauce in the future, it might go with spaghetti squash better than any actual pasta. At least in that case, you'll taste squash.

This product should not be confused with the delightful red autumnal pasta sauce. That one's as surprisingly good as this one is surprisingly not.

On the upside, there's nothing particularly offensive about the taste or texture of this sauce..It's not rancid or gag-worthy. They just need to amplify the flavors a hundred-fold. $4.99 is way too much for this tub, in my humble opinion. Two and a half stars from Sonia. Two from me.

Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10.