Trader Joe's Corn & Green Chile Pepper Quiche

I've been watching a bunch of 80's movies on Amazon Prime lately. What a weird decade. I mean, it was so carefree compared to today. Everything was loud and goofy, from music to clothing to hairstyles. It's such a stark contrast to 2020, which is why I've been finding it so refreshing to bask in all the gaudy glory of 1980's American cinema. Plus, there's not a lot I want to see in the way of new stuff right now, and it still costs $20 just to rent the third installment of Bill and Ted.

Also from the 80's: a book called Real Men Don't Eat Quiche. I mean, it's apparently satirizing the idea that certain things are more masculine to consume than others, but still...I must admit I don't know many dudes obsessed with quiche. In defense of my own masculinity: the three quiches I've reviewed on this blog represent more than half the quiche I've consumed in my entire lifetime. And so far, all of those specimens have fallen into a kind of "take it or leave it" status with me and the wifey.

As is standard for a quiche, this one's primarily made of eggs. I heated ours for 25 minutes in the oven rather than the microwave, and the insides came out surprisingly mushy, especially when one considers the outsides were extremely crispy. I know quiche should be soft, but I felt like the insides had an excess of moisture and the outsides were, if anything, a little too dry. 

Sonia pointed out that there was a decided lack of veggies, corn in particular, in the filling. We were expecting a whole bunch of corn kernels as well as more substantial chunks of chile, too. I guess we were pining for a sort of savory corn and veggie pie rather than a quiche.

Flavor-wise, it's eggy and quichey—not overly salty, sweet, or cheesy. It begs for a little help, honestly. Some salsa and/or hot sauce is definitely in order here. We had no trouble finishing it, but for two thirds of your daily saturated fat and 98% of your cholesterol, I was hoping for just a tad more piquancy. More green chile peppers would have unquestionably made it more memorable for Sonia and me.

$4.99 for the 9 oz quiche. Probably not a repeat purchase for us. Three stars a piece.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit

Let's see here...

Arugula? Check.

Shaved carrot chips? Alright.

Crushed almonds? Ok.

Shredded Parmesan cheese? Yup.

What do all of these have in common, aside from being the base of the new Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit?

A couple things, really, that are pertinent here. First, there's pretty literally nothing I can say about any of them. These ingredients, presuming they are fresh, are darn near impossible to mess up, and nearly as difficult to stand out in any way, shape or form. I mean, I suppose an exceptionally good Parmesan could, but when's the last time you had a noteworthy bite of straight up plain ol' arugula. I'll take the under on "never." So we're not gonna talk about them, because the second thing they have in common is I can almost guarantee that not a single of those ingredients is the reason why anyone would buy this salad. Nothing exotic. No fancy fixings. No nothin', really.

Nah, it's all about that basil lemon vinaigrette.

C'mon now, that just sounds good, doesn't it? Sounds light and fresh and summery and just perfect to drizzle atop on otherwise uninspiring heap of greens and stuff. If you're like me and like to see what's in something before eating it, you'll notice a lot of funky ingredients, too - lemon and basil, sure, but also white grape juice, honey, garlic, cayenne, turmeric, white wine, and so on. Sounds intriguing, and visually, if I didn't know what it was, I'd think it'd be a slightly soupy avocado dressing kinda deal.

Take a bite of the salad without it? Meh. Get some mixed in. Even just a light coat changes that to an "ooo." It's surprisingly light with it's medium-ish consistency, bright, and helps lighten up everything. There's the lemon hit, yet with it there's a taste of almost everything else, so there's a wee bit of complexity going on. If you're concerned about spice level because of that aforementioned cayenne, worry not - it's there but only slight, just enough to give the smallest hint of an edge but not much more. I mean, my kids devoured it, so it can't be that bad. It even made mouthfuls of arugula sound like an appetizing idea. Nothing against arugula per se, as it is a fine leafy green, and certainly above regular ol' iceberg lettuce, but it's definitely lower than spinach and kale in the cruciferous power rankings.

Yeah, yet another TJ salad where I'd imagine most of us wish they'd just sell the dressing separately.

Life gives you lemons, so make lemonade. Or you can make lobster. Or maybe now you can say a basil lemon vinaigrette for a side salad. Oooh all that sounds like a tasty dinner. Good stuff, good salad, good value at $2.99 for a large bag.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

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 Battered Halibut

Any other year, right around now, the most happenin' spots in Western PA on a Friday night are at the local Catholic church, school, or fire hall.

That's right, grab your pierogi tight and hold hope for haluski, we're talking fish fry dinners!

It's the best around here. So much fried fish, so little time. They're all over the place, with fillets so big it's questionable if it came from a regular fish or humpback whale. Mobbed with people, with long lines....

...so yeah, those ain't going on this year any more. We got to one, first Friday a few weeks back. See ya next year, we hope.

Doesn't mean you can't have a little consolation while hunkering down in fish fry-solation.

Is making a batch of Trader Joe's Battered Halibut the same as whatever Lenten sorcery that makes fish fry fish so good? No, of course not. There's certainly not the same ambiance, unless you happen to have a stash of cheap faded plastic lunch trays from the 1980s stashed at your house. Those definitely help.

But you know what? It's darn good fish. My lovely bride and I snagged a couple boxes for our at-home fish fry for our crew. Coulda baked them. Coulda put them in air fryer and baked the fries...or air fry the fries, and deep fry fish on our own in my trusty cast iron. Sacrifice tastes best when deep fried, so that's exactly what we did. If the Good Lord wants our hearts, He may as well have our arteries as well.

There's much good to be had here. Love the batter - it's neither too much with too many crunchies a la KFC chicken, nor too skimpy. It's just right, and crisps up nicely and evenly when fried, in a warm, happy glow. Tastes great too. They used corn and rice flour, apparently. Whatever, it works, and works great.

The fish is pretty tasty too. The halibut is mild and fresh, and plenty fleshy. Admittedly there's not much flavor in the fish itself, as it seems mostly derived from the batter. That's no matter, it works really well, or can easily stand up to having a little hot sauce, or tartar, or squeeze of lemon, or whatever.

In other words, these halibut fillets are a perfectly good substitute for an at-home fish feast, and as bonus, there's no priest around asking for donations for the school AC that's been broke since 1975. No 50/50s either though.

And of course it should go without saying that you don't have to enjoy them the way we did. Fish 'n chips? Baked? Just eat 'em without thinking about 'em too much? Sure thing to all that and more!

There's seven fillets per box, each being probably four to five large bites, and a serving considered two fillets. At $8.99 for the halibut, it's not exactly cheap but enough for 3 folks, and the average fish fry dinner costs at least that much each, so for us there's some value there. In a rare move, it got a thumbs up from everyone in our little family. Nothing wrong with a little comfort in some trying times. Life is better when you focus on what you have and not on what you don't. Thanks for getting our backs, TJ's.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Battered Halibut: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Kung Pao Chicken Mochi Balls

I've said before I'm an eater, not a foodie. This means I'm not necessarily all that well educated in different food terms. Longtime readers of this blog probably know that already.

So...mochi?

As far as I knew, mochi was only a term for ice cream treats! You know what I mean - those little rice dough covered balls of frozen deliciousness. A little chewy and odd on the outside, creamy and delicious in the middle, and once accustomed to them they make an awesome snack. That's all what I ever knew mochi to be without ever having much reason to look into it further. I knew I liked mochi already.

So imagine my initial reaction when I heard of the new Trader Joe's Kung Pao Chicken Mochi Balls.

Intriguing? Yes! But...how are they gonna incorporate ice cream into that?

Obviously, there's no ice cream here. Mochi is just a general term, more or less, for the rice dough balls which can be served in a variety of ways. TIL.

But anyways on to the mochi - oh goodness.

I can say that in relation to a lot of different factors here. That rice dough? It's a marvel, especially when cooked in an air fryer! Dry, dusty, crusty on the the outer shell, but that's just so, so shallow a layer that somehow hold plenty of crisp with a little crunch. The flip side (the innards) is completely different - wet, doughy, moist. Yes, I hate that word too. But it all suggest a slight bit of almost sauciness - that's the wrong word, but I don't know what else to use - when interacting with the rest of the set up. More on that coming up next paragraph. But really, for so thin a shell, the mochi is AMAZING with two very different, very enjoyable experiences. I'd suggest to maximize it use an air fryer instead of oven if you have it - about 10 minutes at 400 made 'em just right.

And the filling? Wow. It's HOT.

As in spicy? Yes. Kung pao usually has a couple heat notches. All the spices and peppers and whatnot combine into a pretty potent punch. It won't be the spiciest thing you'll ever eat, but I don't feel as though they're for the faint of tongue, either.  Despite that, I can still taste the chicken and garlic too. I love when spice enhances and doesn't overpower other foods, and that seems the case here.

But it's also HOT in the physical sense. As in, not cold. Those mochi shells hold some heat! I cracked one open and tried to let it cool for a few minutes before eating - still burned my tongue a little. Have a glass of water nearby, or prepare to let us sit and cool for quite some time.

I love 'em. My only complaint is I wish there was a bit more filling as the package picture implies - however I'm glad it's also not that magenta glow either. So there's that. The kung pao mochi has a fair price point too I'd say - it's $3.49 for a pack of eight golf ball sized dumplin's. My lovely bride enjoys them too, and they ought to be in the regular Asian-inspired dinner rotation. 4.5 from me and a solid 4 from her.

Save the ice cream for after!

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Kung Pao Chicken Mochi Balls: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mandarin Style Orange Chicken Bowl

While Sonia and I were on the road, traveling almost every day sometimes for weeks on end, we'd often take advantage of Walmart parking lots for quick overnight stops. Most locations welcomed RVers with open arms for up to 24 hours. Many were adjacent to strip malls, mini malls, and occasionally classic indoor malls. And, of course, many of these malls had a Panda Express as part of their lineup of eateries and shops. 

At this point I should mention I've been referring to Panda Express as "Poison Panda" since college. No, I'm not racist against Asians. I have cute little nicknames for every fast food chain including Toxic Bell, Booger King, Pizza Butt, and Jack in the Crack. Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that, perhaps part of some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, not once but twice, Sonia and I fell ill after eating Poison Panda on the road. We had running water in our RV, but for those of you familiar with RVing, it's very limited. You can't take 30 minute long showers, use a gallon of water for each flush, and run the sink the whole time you brush your teeth. You have to dump your tanks and refill your fresh water often unless you're extremely frugal with your usage. All that to say, if you're sick in an RV, it's not fun, and I'm not a fan of Panda since. Maybe I should just stop calling them "Poison Panda," and I'll have better luck. Law of Attraction and all that.

Fortunately, now I can get my orange chicken fix without going to a restaurant. Yes, I know there are decent orange chicken offerings that come frozen in bags and can be made on the skillet, but if you're pressed for time or want a decent break room lunch-at-work type of deal, this selection is quite satisfying.

Prep is simple. 4-5 minutes in microwave, thaw sauce in warm water, mix, serve. It's pretty close to restaurant quality as far as taste, but it's pert near impossible to make any kind of breaded chicken come out perfectly in the microwave. It's on par with Poison Panda orange chicken after you reheat the leftovers. I was surprised how much food there was in the bowl. It was actually filled to the brim. Maybe it's because we eat way less meat these days, but we were also impressed with the plentiful amounts of chicken in the mix. I might ask for more carrots, peas, and broccoli in place of some of the rice, but it was still a decent ratio as it was.

The included orange ginger sauce alone is adequate as far as condiments are concerned. I wouldn't have minded a tad more of it, but there's enough in the packet to coat the pieces of chicken and even some of the veggies and rice. You could throw in some soy sauce or sriracha if you were so inclined. I added a clove of raw garlic to mine, because I LOVE me some garlic and it has tons of health benefits. Also, I hate vampires. Go Team Jacob.

$3.99 for the bowl. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Pizza Dough

So, what kinda pizza crust do you prefer?

Thin, airy, crispy, and crackery? Delicious.

That thin but incredibly flexible New York style, that somehow hold everything together though it defies logic? Noooommmmm.

Deep dish, with some burned edges, with a required tenacity to chew and chomp? Thinking about you, Chicago and Detroit. Oh goodness yes.

That typical cardboard stuff for half the freezer pizzas out there? Yeah, not so much.

My preference? When I was young, I asked my grandma which grandkid was her favorite. She simply replied "Whichever one I'm looking at." Similarly, my favorite pizza crust is generally the one I am eating, unless it's one of those aformentioned frozen pies that I wish were something else.

Well, the other night, for the first time and at the urging of the good peeps at the North Hills/McCandless Crossing (Pittsburgh) store, I had Trader Joe's Gluten Free Pizza Dough.

As you can see by the second photo, my lovely bride and I cheated a bit by making breadsticks with the dough to go alongside oour pasta dinner. Mmm, carbs with carbs. It's a successful enough business model for both Olive Garden and Panera, so don't judge.

Still...surprisingly, it worked. Texture and moutfeel is huge for dough, and gluten free stuff can miss the mark. Not so much here, on one condition: if you can be open to slightly chewy dough. That'd be the best word. Nah, it wasn't quite rubbery, and the edges that got hit with a little extra EVOO did get a litle toasty and crunchy, but really, the main feel was chewy, in a way that worked.

Other than that, this TJ's gluten free dough didn't particularly stand out in any way. That's kinda compliment, in its own way. The taste seemed right on, enough that I wouldn't have necessarily guess gluten free if I didn't know it was. Plain yet comforting. I like it.

The main ingedients are tapioca and rice. Well, that explains the chewiness a bit. A bit plain, for sure - a litlte rosemary or herb wouldn't be uncalled for, but not everyone likes that kinda deal either. The dough was simple enough to work with as well - it took a bit to flatten down and I have my doubts whether or not it's make a full 12 inch circle like the directions say it will. However, I didn't allow for ther full 30 minute warm to room temp time either, cuz man, on weeknights, who's got THAT kinda time? I sure don't.

Good dough, and good call from the peeps at my favorite TJ's. Overall I like this dough much better than the cauliflower crust kinda dealie TJ has. I'm not sure I could make it my everytime go-to pizza dough, but it can be in the rotation for sure. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Pizza Dough: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Giotto's Gnocchi al Gorgonzola

Unfortunately, I've never had the pleasure of trying gnocchi from an Italian restaurant. Maggiano's, Buca di Beppo, Olive Garden—been to them all numerous times and I'm not even sure if they sell gnocchi, honestly. Probably better off trying it from a mom and pop's place rather than any of those chains, anyway. I would have sampled it long ago if someone would have drawn my attention to it. 

But as far as I can recollect, the only gnocchi I've ever had has been from Trader Joe's. Frozen grocery store fare is the extent of my experiential knowledge of the subject. To wit, I'm no expert. Sonia's got a slightly better reference point since she's had a gnocchi dish or two in some elegant Los Angeles eatery, the name of which escapes her, before we ever met.

At this fine, nameless Italian establishment, she recalls the gnocchi being "puffy," "fluffy," and nearly "airy." She thinks it tasted and felt primarily potato-based, possibly with some egg. The pasta here, while it does contain potato, is doughy, dense, and slightly chewy. The primary ingredient is durum wheat semolina. It's not unappetizing by any means. It's certainly not "rubbery"—nor would we use the word "gummy." Chewy? Yes. A little.

In my relative ignorance, I happily chomped away on the dish, thinking the texture was just fine. It wasn't hard to overlook its imperfections, because the cheese sauce stole the show. It wasn't an intense flavor, but it was complex, creamy, and savory. If you like fancy Italian cheeses, this easy-to-prepare pasta dish is worth a looksee just to sample a bit of this gourmet gorgonzola.

If only because of my subliminal repulsion to fungi, I probably would have enjoyed the cheese significantly less had I been cognizant of the fact that gorgonzola is a type of "blue cheese," i.e., it's made with veins of blue-green mold growing through it. There's no indication of its mold-factor when looking at the odd, angular chunks of frozen cheese that come in this bag. They're just a solid, creamy off-white. 

Since the cover art on the packaging does approximate the actual look of the final product—minus those weird dark flecks of god-knows-what on top, I opted to show you what it looks like straight out of the freezer. Those big bricks melt and seamlessly coat each piece of gnocchi by the end of the preparation process.

Tasty cheese. Pasta that doesn't exactly melt in the mouth. Super easy prep. $2.99. We're looking at about four stars from me on Trader Giotto's Gnocchi al Gorgonzola. Put Sonia down for three and a half.

Bottom line: 7.5 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 Protein Patties

Disclaimer: Self-proclaimed meatatarian here. I used to feel shy and squeamish about wanting to eat something called, say, a Meat Lover's Pizza. Just sounds odd, doesn't it? Whatever, though, it's tasty and, even better, is piled with multiple kinds of meat, so I'm just gonna get over it. Mmmmmmmmmmeeeeaaaaaatttttt. Yum.

Not to say that I can't enjoy a good meat substitute. Don't believe me, newbie? It was Trader Joe's Soy Chorizo that helped inspire my love for TJ's and helped inspire me to get on board with this blog way back in its fledgling stages. The world had to know.

So now it's 2020 and there's the Beyond Burgers and Impossible Whoppers and everything everywhere. How is this happening? I don't know...I didn't know there was such a demand that different places had to be tripping over themselves to bring their interpretation of veggie burgers to the masses. I mean, there were plenty of adequate if not downright good veggie burgers out there...is it a conspiracy for world domination? I don't know about that, but there are some interesting tin foil hat conspiracies out there that make for fun reading at the very least. It does seem to me that all these bogus beefless burgers rushing to the market are a supply trying to create a demand, and not a demand building it's own supply and market. I'm not sure if down the road the outcome will be so rosy or not for them.

Anyways, enough banter. Trader Joe's Protein Patties. Motto: "All the other good names were taken and we were stuck with this." Another plant based burger. No s and p, flip twice, down the hatch...any good?

Nope. Not gonna lie - both my lovely bride, who is usually even more open than I to these kinda things, and I did not enjoy this pea protein patty puck at all. First of all...look at it in cooked form. The whole thing doesn't brown at all, it just turns a little less pink and gets burned and dry outside. It doesn't look appetizing. The whole shebang looks more like, well, scrapple, which is actually delicious by the way. And like a good ol' slab of East Coast haggis, it got all crispy on the outside while still mushy in the middle. Acceptable, even preferable, for scrapple. Not so much for something purporting to be a burger.

I will admit there is almost a beef like taste to it. I mean, no amount of veggie voodoo and laboratory testing can fully replicate the gristle and sizzle of real actual red meat. Honorable try here. But this TJ's take just has nothing really truly screaming "burger" about it. It's more a toasted pea protein patty plop, and between stating which one out loud I'd like to eat, get me that Meat Lovers!

Quick aside: If one of the goals of products like these is methane reduction, let's just say it wasn't successful on this particular end product user's side of the equation.

If we had to give up meat, there's a chance that Sandy and I would react more favorably to these guys. And you know what? If you like them, don't let us poo-poo your pea protein patty puck plop parade. All that being said, and definitely at the price point of $4.49 for two quarter pound sized chunks, these will not be a repeat buy. That's the meat of the matter right there.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Protein Patties: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Miso Vegetables and Brown Rice Sauté Kit

"Best by" dates on perishable refrigerated goods can be a tricky subject. Sometimes, at least in our experience, that bag of spinach that was supposed to be good for at least another three days looks like a soggy handful of seaweed. Conversely, sometimes, that broccoli that was supposed to be compost by now? Looks fine, tastes fine...so why not?

So in our house we try more or less to abide by them, but as our garbage can on trash night indicates, we're not always the best. Maybe that stamp could be renamed to "Best intentions by and best discretion after" but that's probably a few too many characters for an itty bitty stamp...I digress.

The best by date on our Trader Joe's Miso Vegetables and Brown Rice Sauté  kit was 1/25/20. The evening of 1/26/20 rolls around, my lovely bride is taking a pre dinner break, my turn to make dinner...and I see the date. Looks alright enough, alright, so we're going in.

In and of by itself, it's a pretty decent kit. Lots of good ol crunchy cruciferious veggies in here, and who can hate on that? I mean, chances are, everybody likes at least something  in there - broccoli, Brussel sprouts, carrots, cabbage, kale, carrots and snow peas? I personally say yes please to all of them! If you don't enjoy one of them, it's all easy enough to work around. There's also brown rice, which is more plentiful than first appearance - that little vacuum packed baggie holds A LOT of rice. A bit harder to work around, but really, why would you?

And it's a simple enough kit to follow. Warm up a pan, drizzle some EVOO (I found it needed more than the recommended tablespoon), add veggies, sauté  for a bit (preferably with cold beverage in hand), add rice which explodes out, heat it all back up, mix in miso sauce....BOOM. Simple easy awesome.

It all tastes good and holds together well. The miso is typical miso, which is a great thing IMHO. Mild with some good umami tingles. Kick it up a notch with a little actual seaweed action (no, not that month old saggy sack int he back corner of the fridge!) if ya want, it'll work, trust me.

Love it, no real complaints. There could something a little extra, maybe, but then that's borderline messing with a classic staple and if you're gonna do that, you best come correct. Am I right, Crystal Pepsi? Definitely healthy, can't argue otherwise.

Like it, 7.5 out of 10, would buy again, with best of both intention and discretion in mind.


Bottom line: : Trader Joe's Miso Vegetables and Brown Rice Sauté Kit: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato

Nothing like a little comfort food to get you through the coldest parts of winter. Potatoes and cheese? How could Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato go wrong?

One Potato, Two Potato,

From the Trader Joe's,

Three potato, four potato,

See how that cheese flows.

Five potato, six potato,

It's a hearty dish.

Sev'n potato, eight potato, 

Scrumptious and delish.

As usual, there are heating instructions for the microwave and the conventional oven included on the packaging. I opted for the latter, as I was feeling less lazy than usual—kicking off the new year practicing good habits and all that. The directions simply state: "remove packaging," but don't specify if the tray that contains the dish is "ovenable," a term that Trader Joe's preparation instructions have employed in the past. I made the assumption that it was indeed ovenable, and as evidenced by the fact that the tray did not burst into flames while baking at 350° for nearly an hour, I concluded that I did make the correct choice. Also, had it not been for the tray, the veggies and cheese would have spread out all over the baking sheet and perhaps gotten a little too toasty.

What's working here: lots of big, chunky veggies, tasty and evenly-distributed cheese, a crispy, crusty outer layer, and an overall salty, savory taste, perfect for a winter side dish. The potato chunks and the places where the cheese browned a little around the edges are by far my favorite elements in this side dish.

What's not working here: too many sweet potatoes, which at first I took for carrot chunks. Oddly, they bugged me more than the mushrooms. Even though I've never been a fan of 'shrooms, there simply weren't enough of them to bother me here. Sonia actually wished there were more of them. 

The sweet potato chunks were plentiful and enormous. They should have called this Trader Joe's One Sweet Potato Two Sweet Potato, although I'm not aware of any nursery rhymes that involve counting sweet potatoes. I normally don't mind sweet potatoes at all, particularly if they're well-baked. However, I feel like the ones in this selection had an odd texture—almost spongy—and the chunks were simply too big. There was a lot more sweet potato than regular potato by my reckoning. So...I wouldn't have minded more regular potatoes, peas instead of mushrooms, and thicker, gooier cheese.

Still, despite one or two distinct weaknesses, this potato platter is a winner in my book. The overall effect doesn't suffer much from the overabundance of sweet potato—there are still some tasty bites to be had. $3.99 for four servings. 

Sonia's likes and dislikes were a little different than mine, but we'll still both arrive at the same respectable score for Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato: 4 out of 5 stars a piece. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut and Crispy Noodle Salad Kit

Supposedly the whole point of a salad is to eat something light and healthy, right? Get a nice array of yummy, nutritious veggies in your system, like all those leafy greens your PCP is always telling you about. Salads are great. Salads are fun.

But the whole point of a salad isn't being healthy.

Nah, you're talking to a guy who lives in Pittsburgh, and you see what we do to salads here? That's a tame one.

Right, it's what goes on top that counts. Know anybody that actually really enjoys just eating plain romaine? Nah. I ate raw naked spinach for a while and you should have seen all the looks I got...and to be clear, it was the spinach that was laid bare, not myself. Nobody wants to see that.

Here's a perfect example: Trader Joe's Peanut and Crispy Noodle Salad Kit. Sounds great. Sounds...I don't know, as enticing as a salad can get? TJ's even emphasizes the fix-in's as the selling point in the name, which is a good thing if you look at the components.

I mean, just look. The whole base of the salad is the 100% routine, boring , generic cabbage/romaine/carrot mix that I swear makes up 95% of salads. It's like a stock photo come to life. Booooor-ing. Nothing wrong with it per se, except it is what it is which is all it's ever gonna be. Snooze.

So how can liven it up? Chopped peanuts? Well, okay...except those are kinda boring too. Nothing wrong, but nothing right. It's like a rerun watched too many times.

But then....crispy rice noodles! And peanut and lime dressing! Maybe there will be something worth writing home about here.

First off: the noodles. For some reason I expected chow mein type noodles, which was a completely flawed assumption on many levels. Instead, these are light, airy, tiny, airpopped Styrofoam-ish rice noodles that are remarkably crispy and crunchy for their size. There's not much taste to them by themselves, so naturally they absorb the flavor of whatever they're nearby, which really oughtta be...

The dressing. Almost every salad comes to the dressing. This peanut-lime take is pretty darn tasty. My lovely bride wanted to drench every inch of her salad with it and guzzle the rest from the packet...fortunately I stopped her. We've made similar sauces at home with peanut butter and soy sauce, but there's more here. Some different spices, and the Thai lime leaves are a real nice touch. I'm sold. It's another dressing that needs to be sold by itself, and there needs to be more of it in the salad if only we didn't have to squabble over the last few drips.

Pretty decent salad overall. Sandy and I had it as a lighter dinner the other night and were both pretty happy. It's not a bad deal at $3.99 and if you're looking for a new salad mix in this New Year, it might be tough to top this.

 Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanut and Crispy Noodle Salad Kit: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gratin

After checking out an odd pasta plus cauliflower dish from Trader Joe's recently, numerous readers mentioned this particular pasta-free dish as an even lower carb, lower-calorie alternative. There are breadcrumbs in this cauliflower gratin, so it's neither completely carb-free nor gluten-free, but it does contain significantly fewer carbs and calories.

It's apparently only a seasonal dish, but it was still available on our last Trader Joe's run, thankfully. Sometimes I think "seasonal" at TJ's means "we get exactly one shipment a year, and if you miss out, just cross your fingers we'll get one more shipment next year about this time."

Anyway, we were curious to see how it would compare to the cauli and shells combo. Both dishes are refrigerated, not frozen, and they come with "best by" dates printed on the packages. I'd prefer them to be frozen so there's not a gun pointed at your head to eat them soon after purchase, but then I guess there's that whole "freshness" issue...

I digress.

There's plenty of flavor in Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gratin. There's a four cheese blend flaunting parmesan, asiago, fontina, and provolone. The cauliflower chunks are much larger in this dish, and I feel like they're slightly softer, but there's still a nice roasted quality to them, and they taste great alongside the copious cheese. The breadcrumbs were more plentiful here—another reason I enjoyed this gratin offering more than its predecessor. They're not panko this time—just regular wheat-based breadcrumbs with some herb flavoring.

Sonia raved about the taste and texture as she quickly downed her share of the dish. She was shocked at the conservative numbers on the nutrition facts at first glance, although if you pay attention, they're not as low as one might think initially. The recommended serving size of this product is half a cup, as compared with a whole cup on the cauli & pasta shell combo. They want us to eat half as much cauliflower gratin and somehow stretch a package to three and a half servings. Nope. Not gonna happen. This is two servings at best.

Both products are the same price: $4.99. In the end, this will get a thumbs up from both of us. We like it just a tad more than the very similar dish with pasta. The cheese combo and breadcrumb elements in the cauliflower gratin seem just slightly higher quality to me. Four stars apiece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower & Cheesy Pasta Shells

At first, I thought Trader Joe's was substituting pasta shells completely with cauliflower in this dish. It seemed like the most Joesian thing to do. 

You feel me on the use of the term "Joesian"? It means Trader Joe's-esque, as in, What Would Trader Joe's Do? Because Trader Joe's loves to swap out normal foods with cauliflower. It's super Joesian.

Just check the search term "cauliflower" on our blog. We've seen them swap out pancakes, rice, pizza crust, mashed potatoes, and much, much more...with cauliflower. Nothing but cauliflower.

Now they're keeping the pasta, but throwing cauliflower into the mix. I guess it's lower in carbs, but obviously not carb-free. I honestly wouldn't have minded a dish sans pasta. Cheesy cauliflower with a little panko would have been just fine with me. The pasta shells keep the look, feel, and taste just a tad more familiar...and it works.

In truth, I don't think the cauliflower adds a whole lot. But like I said, it might be taking away some of the carbs. It smells of cauliflower even more than it tastes like cauliflower, in my opinion. 

This dish is tasty because of the oodles of warm, gooey ricotta and fontina cheese, with just a bit of dry, crunchy complexity from the panko. I love panko bread crumbs. Wouldn't have minded a whole lot more of it here in Trader Joe's Cauliflower and Cheesy Pasta Shells.

It's possible to tell which little bits of the dish are pasta and which are roasted cauliflower pieces, but they really don't taste all that different to me. I went the lazy route here and microwaved the dish, although both microwave and oven heating methods are listed. During the stirring process, I mixed most of the panko into the mostly melted cheese, except around the edges, where a nice, firm panko crust remained. I wish I'd left the panko-encrusted top intact, because it was probably my favorite part of the meal.

There's still plenty of fat and cholesterol in this product, so it's not really diet food, unless you're just aiming to consume slightly less carbs. I mean, pasta isn't the first thing you'd want on a low carb diet, but if you were going to splurge, cauliflower plus pasta is better than pasta alone I suppose. I give three and a half stars to this cauliflower & cheesy pasta shells microwave dinner. Sonia gives it four. 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Holiday Herb Rolls

Every holiday meal we get together with my family, no matter all the other awesome stuff my family makes, it's always her cheesebread I look forward to the most. Philly cheesesteaks aren't Philly cheesesteaks if not on an Amoroso roll. Sandy's homemade rolls really make a great compliment to whenever I smoke some pulled pork.

There's just something about great bread that really makes a meal complete. Evidently it's called "breaking bread" for a reason.

In stores now, for those times you need a festive bread but are in a pinch, is Trader Joe's Holiday Herb Rolls.

Naturally, I'm not gonna tell you these rolls are as good as any respectable homemade bread. "Decent" is about all most rolls like these can aspire to. I don't feel like a snob in saying that, but maybe I'm just spoiled by too many good bakers.

Dinner last night was these savory rolls, sandwiching turkey, provolone and cranberry sauce and warmed in the oven. Nomnomnom. Thanksgiving in a sandwich, practically. Karen, our favorite TJ's employee, made that suggestion and my goodness it was another winner.

Ingredients, herbwise: parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme. Like the lyrics to "Scarborough Fair", except these rolls just also have to have marjoram as well - oh well. Let's not quibble too much here - the spice blend works very well all together, and compliments the enriched wheat base well.

Heated up in the oven, these savory herb rolls got a little crispy/toasty on the outside and filled our kitchen with their herby aroma. Inside the rolls, the dough still remained soft and chewy when eaten - perfect. My kids loved them, even my oldest who randomly decided she didn't like cranberry sauce. Sandy loves anything with rosemary, so these were a win with her, easily.

Easy rolls for a festive get-together in a busy upcoming holiday season - they're worth a buy at only about $3 for a dozen pull apart rolls. Likely, these rolls will pair well with most meals or menus. For those times when homemade just isn't possible, these should do just fine.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Holiday Herb Rolls: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Fall Zucchette Pasta

In the whitebread central Pennsylvania neighborhood I grew up in, there weren't a whole lot of Italian folks. I had a long-time babysitter with the last name "Capriotti," but minestrone soup was probably the extent of Italian culture I experienced under her care. Of course, every American eats his share of pizza and spaghetti throughout childhood and beyond, but even now at forty, I'm still learning about Italian pastries and pastas that are completely new to me. "Zucchette" is a prime example.

Googling the term wasn't much help in this case. There's not even a wiki for zucchette pasta as far as I can tell. In fact, this Trader Joe's product is one of only a handful of references on the entire internet. I'm gathering that "zucchette" might just mean the pasta is inspired by or contains gourds, pumpkins, or squash. This product does both—that is, it contains butternut squash, and its shape is evidently inspired by pumpkins.

The taste is quite a lot like any other pasta I've had, with just the slightest hint of something earthy. That subtlest hint of extra richness must be, I guess, from the dehydrated butternut squash within. It's a shame we only had traditional marinara sauce on hand. I would have liked to try this with the Autumnal Harvest Creamy Sauce. Its squashy flavors may have helped bring out the butternut squash flavor in this pasta here. As it stands, any squash taste is completely and utterly overshadowed by whatever cheese or sauces you might serve this with. 

Still, it's a bag of decent pasta, each little pumpkin shape a substantial bite. Sometimes a dab of sauce and cheese fills the void in the center of the pumpkin, and you get a particularly robust forkful of flavor. 

For $1.99, this isn't a bad purchase at all. It's plenty for a meal for two adults, or as a side for four or so. I'm guessing this product might be done for the season already, unless there are a few specimens lingering on the shelves in your area for some reason. In all likelihood, it will be back circa September 2020. Or...maybe not.

There's not much improvement here over traditional shells or what have you, but nothing is taken away, either. If that butternut squash flavor were a bit more potent, we might have had a real winner here. Four stars from me. Three from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Mixed Mushroom & Spinach Quiche

Yes, yes. I know, I know. I shouldn't review something with an ingredient I don't like. 

I've confessed on this blog before that I don't like mushrooms very much. I even have a mild allergic reaction to most mushrooms. But every once in a while, I'll eat them anyway—like, just because they're there and I'm too lazy to go to the store and purchase a mushroom-free alternative. Sonia used to have weird reactions to certain species of mushrooms, too, but she seems to have outgrown that sensitivity. That's one of the many reasons why she purchased this product.

I'm pretty much okay with this quiche, because, as Sonia noted, there aren't a ton of big mushroom chunks. There's a moderate amount of shroomy bits floating about the mixture, but they get overshadowed by the spinach, cheese, and buttery crust.

"Shouldn't the word 'spinach' go before the word 'mushroom' if there's more of it in the mixture?" asked the wife. "I guess they were listing them in alphabetical order," she mused.

I think they were going for alliteration with the pairing of "mixed" and "mushroom" side by side and also, perhaps, mushrooms are a bigger selling point for most people, so they wanted to lead with that. Whatever. Doesn't matter. We both agree there's more spinach than mushrooms. I guess that's the point I'm trying to make.

The overall flavor is eggy, cheesy, and buttery. It's nice—kinda typical for a quiche, I guess, but since I don't have quiche all that often, it still feels like a treat in a way. It's fairly rich, but when you consider the amount of saturated fat and cholesterol, I'm actually kind of surprised it doesn't taste even more indulgent.

In light of the nutrition facts, I'd say a couple should split this one quiche between the two of them and pair it up with some sides, rather than eating it as a single serving as the package suggests. That's basically what we did, except if I tell you what we had as our sides, you'll never ever read my reviews again because you'll realize how far from foodie-hood we really are. What do you even serve quiche with? A salad? Soup? I don't even know. Okay, I'll tell you what we had it with. Sonia had it with a bowl of blueberry Kashi cereal and I had it with a piece of peanut butter toast. Don't judge.

And in case you're wondering, no, I do not recommend either of those sides as a pairing for this quiche.

The price is right at $2.49 for the fairly filling dish, but I don't think we'll buy it on the regular because atherosclerosis doesn't sound like fun. Three and a half stars a piece.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.