Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad

Bacon chocolate bars. Fig cookies ...err ....cakes .... bars. errr... whatever you want to call them. Greasy Greece-y cheesy dough spirals.  Mega carrot cake cookies. Super-de-duper crunchy brownie bites, which apparently everyone in the world except me knew were Sheila's Brownie Brittle.

Is it any wonder that I could use a salad?

As fun as it would be to subsist on nothing but all of those aforementioned treats, plus any cookie butter confections and other assorted TJ's goodies, well, that's just not how it works. You need veggies, and in the hot hot heat and humidty of summer, some nights nothing but a cool, crisp, flavorful salad will do.

It doesn't get any easier than Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad. As the package implies, it's a full, ready to go salad in a bag, ready to be rinsed off, dumped in a bowl, and served up. And there's a lot in here, too - crisp, fresh kale for the leafy green base, with some fresh shoestring carrot and broccoli for kind of a raw crunchy natural slaw to really fill the salad out. There's the typical red cabbage and radicchio shards intersparsed through out. All of that is well and good, but the toasted quinoa - man, that's a great addition, much better than any crouton. The itty quinoa bits (of which there are plenty) add a crispy, toasty, slightly nutty munch than makes a tasty accomplice to the rest of the kale, etc. The lemon vinaigrette is okay - somewhat light, a little citrusy, with a slight sweet tartness that plays off the natural veggie flavors well enough - but isn't terribly memorable, either. Of course, I say this as a non fan of most salad dressings, so take my opinion for whatever it may be worth. There's also a small package of pepitas and cranberries that add some textural variance and flavor, but it'd be nice to have more of them, especially the cranberries.

And this is one huge salad too. Sandy and I have bought it twice - the first time, we were extraordinarily hungry, so we plowed through the entire bag between the two of us for dinner, and that seemed to be pushing it a bit. The second time, we roasted some chicken breasts to cut up and mix in with the salad - man, that was filling, and though we ate to our hearts' content, there was enough remaining for a good leftover lunch for me. Really, not a bad value at all the for the $4.49 it set us back.

We're both fans, although strangely, me more than the wifey for once. Not tht she hated it, by any stretch. The first time we dined on it, she expressed some of her fullest love she could for a consumable good (non ice cream division). After the second...more of a "meh" reaction. Maybe it's because we knew what to expect. Regardless, Sandy said she'd probably still pick up the kale quinoa salad for a few lunches here and there, giving it a 3.5 overall. Me? it deserves better than that in my humble opinion. Not quite perfect (seriously, more cranberries, please) but I'll grade a little higher to give it the score I think it deserves.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Giotto's Arugula & Parmigiano Reggiano Ravioli

Every time I hear the word "arugula," I think of the movie My Blue Heaven with Steve Martin. I was too young to really appreciate the film the first time I saw it, but the scene in the grocery store where he asks for arugula has stuck with me for the past 25 years. "It's a veg-e-ta-ble."

And apparently "parmigiano reggiano" is just a fancy way to say "parmesan cheese." But put together like that, it's pretty hard to speak the title of this product without trying to sound like an Italian mafia don from New York City. Near the end of a recent podcast episode, you can hear my sad attempt at saying "Trader Giotto's Arugula & Parmigiano Reggiano Ravioli" with an Italian accent. And if you like that, please check out my even-more-offensive Indian, Danish, and Japanese accents on our YouTube channel.

Whether you say it with an Italian accent or can barely pronounce it at all, you have to admit that arugula and parmigiano reggiano is a great combo. And it's even better inside ravioli pasta. It's a far cry from the bizarre "fusion" experiment we recently checked out called Trader Joe's Chicken Pot Pie Ravioli—admittedly, a mostly successful experiment. But this product tastes classic...like a time-honored family recipe from the Old Country—not that I know anything about the Old Country. I'm about as Italian as the Queen of England. But it tastes like something that you'd get from a mom and pop's Italian place. Not a hole-in-the-wall pizza place, either. Like maybe The Olive Garden, but much better. It's a delicious, balanced blend of veggies, cheese, and pasta, and it goes great with olive oil and Trader Joe's Shaved Cheese Blend. All of the flavors are somewhat subtle, but very pleasant. They go together so well because no single ingredient outshines the others, taste-wise.

The amalgam of parmesan and arugula is nice and smooth. There are no chunks of veggies or cheese. They're blended together to an almost creamy consistency. There's definitely a little more substance to the mixture than just plain cheese by itself, but it's not a "chunky" experience by any means. Even the Chicken Pot Pie Ravioli had more body to it, since there were hunks of carrots and peas and tiny whispers of chicken in that product. We enjoyed the texture in both cases, but for different reasons.

This pasta is easy to prepare and reasonably priced at $3 for the package. Sonia and I both recommend it.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Salted Caramel Bread Pudding

It's time for the long-awaited sequel to Trader Joe's Pumpkin Bread Pudding. 

As Russ pointed out a while ago, other than some notable exceptions, sequels usually aren't as good as originals. And as was mentioned in our most recent podcast episode, bread pudding isn't necessarily what the WG@TJ's team is craving when it's 90+ degrees and extremely humid. This is definitely more of a fall food in our minds. Yet for the sake of our loyal readers, and to be ahead of the Trader Joe's brand food product reviewing curve, we have boldly decided to check it out right now, in the middle of July...because we're intrepid criticasters like that. I just learned that word this morning. Thanks, Dictionary.com Word of the Day.

The preparation instructions for this product are very similar, if not identical, to that of the above-mentioned Pumpkin Bread Pudding. There's an optional overnight refrigerator thawing period, and then the preferred instructions have you heating this product in the microwave, although the oven is also listed as a viable alternative. 

I think the microwave is preferred because there's less danger of overcooking, and therefore less risk of drying out the product. On the other hand, it has recently come to my attention that some people prefer bread pudding to be crispy on the outside. I've never had it that way—TJ's or otherwise. I think the beauty of bread pudding is its unique gelatinous suppleness from top to bottom. 

And along those lines, this product was moist, soft, and nearly perfect texture-wise, just like its predecessor. That's probably the best feature of this product—that a period of thawing and a few minutes in the microwave can yield such amazingly authentic texture for a dessert that's fairly easy to mess up. I ate one piece straight out of the microwave, and it was great. It melted in my mouth. But like the pumpkin flavor, Sonia and I both agree that refrigerating the cooked bread pudding and snacking on it straight out of the fridge is also legit.

What isn't as legit is this product's flavor. Don't get me wrong, it isn't bad at all. But neither of us think it tastes like salted caramel. Sonia says it reminds her more of vanilla than caramel. I just think it's a vaguely sweet flavor, comparable to other "plain" bread puddings I've had. Maybe we were spoiled by the delectable pumpkin spices in this product's forerunner, or maybe we're just used to being bowled over by salted caramel flavor with goodies like TJ's Salted Caramel Gelato or Salted Caramel Chai, but we think the name of this product is slightly misleading in this case. We just want more salt and caramel. Is that too much to ask? What do you think?

Each of us gives this product three and a half stars.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Israeli Couscous

Prior to spying this box on the shelves of a local TJ's, I wasn't aware of the existence of Israeli couscous. Regular couscous, yes. But I didn't know this other special version existed. Otherwise known as "pearl couscous" for it's shiny, spherical form, this type of couscous is popular in—you guessed it—Israel, where it is known as "ptitim." 

And since I'm fond of celebrating my 1/16th or so Jewishness, as I've mentioned before, I decided this inexpensive box ($2) of grain/pasta was a suitable selection for my next misadventure in foodie-hackery.

I was about to heat up the saucepan on the stove top when Sonia stopped me and encouraged me to go tend to our animal friends while she did the cooking. I'm pretty sure that's a subtle commentary on my culinary abilities, but she insisted that she just felt like cooking. And wow. Not only did she cook the couscous properly with a bit of olive oil, but she made a whole lovely Mediterranean-themed meal, complete with cucumber salad, hummus, and meat, as shown in the pic to the right.

Strangely, I enjoyed this "Ben-Gurion rice" significantly more than any normal couscous I'd ever had, while Sonia expressed the reverse. I liked the larger size, chewier texture, and lightly nutty flavor of these, while I've always felt as if regular couscous were just a notch above seasoned sawdust. Sonia just prefers her couscous smaller and less chewy I guess. Or maybe she's just not as in touch with her inner-Jew.

It's cheap, shelf-stable, kosher, vegetarian, and relatively high in fiber. It's most definitely not gluten-free...and it's not exactly a party food by itself. But it goes great with vegetables, hummus, fish, or poultry. If you're looking for a wheat-based alternative to rice or regular couscous, I've gotta say, I'm a fan. Four stars from me. Three from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Tikka Masala

It's never been the taste of vegetarian or vegan foods that's kept me from swearing off animal products entirely. It's primarily the cost and lack of availability of viable meat-free alternatives. And although arguments can be made that vegetarian diets may even be cheaper than meatful diets, we're a long ways off from being able to purchase meat-free corn dogs from the average street vendor or chickenless nuggets from the Mickey D's on the corner.

That being said, Trader Joe's is one of those rare places where meaty foods and meatless foods are pretty much on a level playing field. There are plenty of options in both camps, and strict vegetarians probably don't feel like they're missing out on all that much. This product is a prime example. TJ's is a great place for meat eaters to discover that Meatless Mondays won't kill them—or that they can be "part time vegans." In fact, we've already reviewed a vegetarian tikka masala dish on this blog, as well as a non-vegetarian one.

Like the previous two tikka masala dishes, this one has some amazing sauce. It's full of Indian spices and flavor, it's creamy, and it's mildly hot. It's almost as good as masala sauce I've had from actual Indian restaurants. The rice is your basic basmati—the kind we usually see in these frozen Indian dishes from TJ's—flavored with oil and cumin, and as always, it blends very well with the sauce and other elements. 

The vegan meat substitute was fairly neutral in flavor, which allowed the sauce to be the dominant taste of the dish. If anything, the vegan chunks tasted just ever so slightly soy-ish, with a breadiness about them as well. It wasn't an unpleasant flavor at all—on the contrary, it was delicate and satisfying, despite a decided lack of potency. 

Texture-wise, the meatless chunks did a decent job of imitating white meat chicken pieces, if but perhaps a mite bit more chewy—certainly not to the point that I would complain. In fact, I've definitely had actual chicken that was far more rubbery than this on more than one occasion. I should note at this point that I did heat my entree in the microwave, although conventional oven instructions are given. Even though I've become far more proficient at traditional cooking in the past few years, my rule of thumb is that if it comes in a plastic tray with clear film on top, I'll go ahead and nuke it...or if I'm really hungry and don't want to wait the extra 20 minutes. In this case, it was both.

$3.49 at our local TJ's, six minutes in the microwave, and a reasonable calorie count for tikka masala...this gets a thumbs up from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pretzel Bagels

Personally, I'm kind of at an interesting time right now. Since late last summer, as I know I've mentioned a couple times on here, I've been following the paleo diet for the most part, and since then, between diet and running, I've dropped seventy pounds. Two weeks ago, I celebrated hitting the weight loss century mark since my known height from back in December 2012 - yes, 100 pounds, over a foot off my waistline, two shirt sizes, and lots of blood sugar/blood pressure/cholesterol points gone. Allow me this not-so-humble brag...daaang. I've always been the "fat kid" growing up, and dang it, it feels so good to not be that any more - even clinically speaking, I am at a "normal weight" now, and I continually have to shush my coworkers who claim I'm wasting away to nothing.

Of course, paleo diet means no carbs (at least not the bready kinds), but I'm going to try and shift myself into weight maintenance as opposed to weight loss mode. My clothes budget can't take it any more. So I'm going to try to reintroduce them, on a limited and controlled basis, and fall back on my caveman ways if need be if I go up a few too many clicks. Still, after avoiding and going to great pains to mostly avoid for so long, it's a difficult mindset to try and re-adapt to, that carbs (like most anything) are okay if you don't over-indulge.

With this mental banter banging around, when I first saw Trader Joe's Pretzel Bagels up on the shelf near the checkout, my first thought was "Hey that's not fair!" Pretzels are fantastic (usually) and bagels are divine, so combine the two and....but my brain wanted to tell me they weren't okay. I mentioned all this to my lovely wife, who sighed, rolled her eyes, grabbed the bag and tossed them in the cart, saying "You're gonna eat these, buster."

I wish I liked these more. I really do. They're not bad. But they don't strike me as overly pretzel-y or bagel-y, but instead are some weird doughy crossbreed trying to masquerade as both and failing. A good bagel and an acceptable soft pretzel to me are at least somewhat similar in texture to me - tough, golden outside with a dense and chewy interior, like a New York-style bagel or a Philly soft pretzel. Not these guys. I haven[t had the TJ's soft pretzel stick, but I'd imagine these are much the same, except in an O shaped form. It's so much more bread-like than either pretzel or bagel.

To really enjoy them, I have to say, you have to toast the bagels. It's a must. It's only by toasting that the exterior gets a little crispy, with the inside deflating to a chewy texture that somewhat approximates the proper experience. Indeed, when we made some ham and gouda melts for lunch on them, or some toasted breakfast sandwiches the following morning, they were pretty fantastic and added a lot to the meal. But if you were to take a bite of one right out of the package, really, it just tastes like normal bread with a super soft semi-pretzelesque exterior.

Other than that, although we enjoyed them, both Sandy and I have a few small quibbles. Sandy thought that, in line with the whole "pretzel" thing, they should have a little more salt to them. I agree that it'd be a nice touch. And also, and this just shows how petty I am, these bagels are not presliced. I hate slicing bagels, mostly because I have to decide between the perceived inconvenience of cleaning a cutting board or the risk of running a serrated blade across my palm. No, I will not buy one of those stupid bagel slicing contraptions.

Anyways, a six pack will set you back only $2.49, which is reasonable enough. Chances are good we'll get them again when we need a mix up from the normal slabs of bread. Sandy liked them a tad bit more than me, saying that all the way around, they tasted like a pretzel enough to her liking. She's going with a four. Maybe I'm just being too picky, or just wishing that one of my first forays back into regular carb-dom would be a little more satisfactory, but I'm going with just a three.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pretzel Bagels: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Whole Grain Bread

As I sit here composing this blog post, I am, rather hypocritically, eating a non-gluten-free slice of pizza. And although I was diagnosed with a low-level wheat allergy as a child, I have never been instructed to follow a gluten-free diet, and I don't suffer from celiac disease or any other condition that would necessitate a gluten-free diet, at least as far as I know. 

Yet I can feel my stomach puffing up slightly, causing mild discomfort, as I consume my early dinner. Weirdly, both Sonia and I experience this phenomenon when we eat glutenful grains and traditional wheat-based products. Not so when we eat gluten-free.

So why don't we eat gluten-free all the time, you ask—aside from the need to review glutentastic products every once in a while? Habit, mostly. Cost is also a factor. You can buy traditional whole wheat bread for just over a buck, but this loaf of gluten-free goodness, for example, will run you about $4.50. It won't break the bank, but unless it's absolutely necessary, it's hard for me to justify spending four and a half times as much for essentially the same product.

But to be fair, it's NOT the same product—particularly for those of you who eat gluten-free out of absolute necessity. I'm sure for you guys, a couple of bucks is a small price to pay to enjoy sliced sandwich bread—something the rest of us take for granted each and every day. And I would say this gluten-free bread is the closest we've had to actual wheat-based white sandwich bread to date. Both look similar, toast well, and make great sandwiches. Taste-wise, I think I actually prefer this gluten free bread. It has a great nutty essence about it that you won't get from cheap old Sunbeam or what have you—toasting it brings out this nuttiness even more. It's somewhat similar to a multigrain artisan bread in terms of flavor, but not quite as complex.

Texture-wise, it's definitely stiffer than traditional white sandwich bread, but not at all unpleasant. Sonia states that it's "fluffier" than millet bread or brown rice bread, which in her opinion, makes this product superior. I'll admit that the texture of this bread is closer to that of traditional bread, but I've always enjoyed the thickness and firmness of millet and brown rice toast.

This bread is great for making sandwiches, with butter and fruit spread, or even just by itself. We've got no major complaints about the taste or texture, and we love eating stuff that doesn't make us feel all bloated and weird. I'm sure celiac, IBD, and Crohn's sufferers have their favorite stand-by sandwich breads already—like Udi's and such. For all I know, this may be a repackaging of some third party's brand that many of you have already tried. But if you're on a gluten-free diet and shopping at TJ's, Sonia and I both think this bread is worth a whirl. As the back of the packaging points out, the best thing since sliced bread...is gluten free sliced bread. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hobo Bread

This product is called "Hobo Bread" because hobos used to make it during The Great Depression. They'd cook it in old tin cans, hence the cylindrical, tube-like formation. I imagine them baking the bread over large barrel fires under bridges and overpasses, feeding scraps to stray dogs...although dogs aren't supposed to eat raisins...and I'm not sure if the average hobo knows that. I mean, I don't want to sound arrogant. Hobos probably know as much as I do. Although, most of what I "know" comes from Wikipedia and Google searches. So really it probably boils down to whether the hobos have internet access or not. I guess most do if they use the library. But I mean, this is just silly, since nobody had internet access during The Great Depression. I bet it cost like a week's wage for internet service back then. Right?

Anyway, hobos no longer have to bake this bread themselves. They can buy it at TJ's for about $3. Not a bad deal since it's quite filling, plus there are 12 servings in the bag. It's a simple treat—moist bread filled with raisins, walnuts, brown sugar, and molasses. I've never been a huge fan of molasses, but in this case, it's not overwhelming. Noticeable, definitely...but bearable even for me.

The bread's not super sweet, but it's richer, denser, and "wetter" than traditional raisin bread. It crumbles apart very easily, and similar to the Irish soda bread, it would be difficult to heat it up in a toaster without losing a few chunks to the infernal abyss. Conventional oven or toaster oven? Go for it. But I preferred mine at room temperature, sans fixins. So did Sonia, who thinks the bread might have lost a bit of its signature softness and moistness had we eaten it heated. She's a much bigger admirer of molasses than I, and accordingly, she gives this Hobo Bread four stars. I'll throw out three.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blarney Scone

Before moving to the greater Philadelphia area, which has a huge Irish population, I was unaware of the existence of Irish soda bread—or other authentic Irish traditions like "Irish Potatoes," corned beef sandwiches with sauerkraut, and Shamrock Shakes. Okay, I'm just kidding about the Shamrock Shakes. 

And to be fair, Irish Potatoes aren't Irish either—they're...Philly-ish. Not really sure about corned beef. It seems like there might be some contention as to whether that's an Irish tradition, or an American one...or possibly even an English one. The very fact they eat it with sauerkraut might even give the Germans some stake in the matter, and...well, I've digressed far enough already.

But, Nathan, you say—with your extreme whiteness, red features, and "MacFarland" for a middle name, aren't you super Irish? No. I'm not. I mean, not strictly. On one side, I'm descended from Scottish Presbyterians that lived in Northern Ireland for some time in order to persuade the stubborn Irish that the King of England wasn't really that bad and that the Pope in Rome wasn't really that great, and that shaving off a third of their island was a small price to pay to avoid having their butts kicked repeatedly by the Brits. So...Irish in a sense, yet probably not at all popular with proper Irish folk. And now that I've publicly made myself a target for the IRA, here ends the digression. I promise this time.

A clever play on the words "Blarney Stone," this loaf of high-rise bread is not a true scone, at least not in the sense that I think of. It's not particularly sweet, except for the raisins scattered throughout the bread. It's not at all like "raisin bread" either, in that there's no cinnamon and very little sugar. It tastes similar to rye bread to me—but with no marbling of any kind. What makes it "soda bread" is the presence of baking soda as a rising agent, rather than yeast...and it might be my imagination, but I want to say you can taste that difference pretty clearly. It's nothing spectacular in the flavor department, but not at all unappealing, either.

Texture-wise, it's a nice, soft bread, but very crumby. Too crumby. It was extremely difficult to cut individual pieces off of the loaf, and nearly impossible to place said pieces in a traditional toaster without losing most of the bread to the fiery recesses of the sweltering appliance. I enjoyed just grabbing chunks from the sizable 10-serving "scone" and eating them plain. I must say, it goes well with cream cheese too, if you're craving a bit more flavor. The $4 loaf was a decent value and fun to try, although don't expect anything super exciting in tastebud-land. This isn't really a dessert. 

Double 3.5's and Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Kettle Popped Sweet & Salty Popcorn Chips

Trader Joe's Kettle Popped Sweet and Salty Popcorn Chips, Whole Grain with Chia Seeds, Flax Seeds, Whole Quinoa, Sunflower Seeds.

That's the entire title of this product. It's like a paragraph by itself. I mean, not technically. I just mean it's really long. In a way, it's all you need to know about this product, and it's all printed right there on the front of the bag. If you like all that stuff, you'll like this product. But I guess the point of a food review is to tell you whether WE liked these popcorn chips or not.

And the answer is YES, we did. I REALLY like the ingredients list. Nothing I can't pronounce. Nothing I needed to Google. 

They're low in fat, salty and sweet, just like the bag says. Plus, TJ's has found another creative way to stick quinoa in our junk food. But as "junk food" goes, these chips are fairly low-guilt. Even the sodium isn't excessive. And as far as Sonia and I can tell, the taste doesn't suffer at all.

Not sure who the supplier is for this product, but like most TJ's items, it undoubtedly comes from a third party. Regardless, I think this type of product is what attracted me to TJ's in the first place: stuff that effectively curbs the munchies with significantly less bad stuff than traditional snacks. I mean, I LOVE the cookie butter stuff like most of you, but those treats just can't be everyday snacks unless you workout like a madman or are cool with weighing 300 pounds.

These popcorn chips have a nice light flavor that lets the natural grains through, but it has just enough cane sugar that it tastes indulgent and satisfies the sweet tooth. The flavor is more complex than other popcorn chips I've tried because of all the "ancient grain" type ingredients. The texture is crispy, crunchy, and just about perfect. $1.99 for a bag is a pretty reasonable price point, too, if you ask me.

Sonia was an even bigger fan than I was—she really digs the whole sweet and salty thing and thinks these chips nailed it. Four and a half stars from her. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Super Burrito!

Look, up on your lunch plate! It's a roll...it's a wrap...it's...Trader Joe's Super Burrito!!

Much to my dismay, I've found that consumption of said Super Burrito! results in no extra super powers. No leaping tall buildings. No flight or X-ray vision. Heck, for some reason I even ate one of these for a late breakfast, and still fumbled around with basic word pronunciation, sentence structure and pronoun usage until the caffeine from my coffee finally decided to kick in. That's what I'm like when tired, even more than I usually am, which is saying something. There's a reason that Nathan's the video whiz and not me.

Kicking it back to the burrito, or as I like to say, "little donkey." Sounds funnier. Anyways, this particular wrap is "Super" with an exclamation point probably because of three of the key ingredients: quinoa, sweet potato, and kale. Pretty much any respectable short list of so-called "superfoods" would have at least two if not all three of these listed - all those nutrients and vitamins and other stuff I should probably care more about one of these days.

Is the taste "super" though? Eh. It's not bad, but the highlight for me at least is absolutely the chile-onion tortilla. It's just like those ones I can always find at the Ohio stores but never here in Pittsburgh - seriously, PA, let's get better tortillas, beer and booze here, please! The bulk of the innards is composed mainly of the quinoa and micro-chopped kale kinda bathing in this "Peruvian style aji amarillo" sauce, with a couple bitty chunks of firm sweet potato here and there. There's not nearly enough sweet potato for my taste here. The quinoa tastes like, well, quinoa and the kale tastes like it's green.

 This Peruvian-style sauce, though? Hate to say it, but kinda disappointing. There's literally nothing memorable or distinguishing about it. From what I hear, it's supposed to be "spicy" and versatile", and there's a pretty significant chance I had some when I went to Peru twelve years ago - most of the sauces I can recall were spicy and flavorful and just absolutely amazing. This glop...well, it kinda tastes slightly like mayonnaise, and not much else. There's a bit of lingering heat, but its source is debatable - the sauce or the tortilla? Also, the sauce tends to get a little leaky giving the tortilla and packaging a greasy sheen. Meh.

Also...I scanned the ingredients multiple times, and maybe I'm completely missing something obvious here, but I cannot figure out why this isn't considered vegan or at least vegetarian. There's mayo, but it states it is vegan. No cholesterol, suggesting lack of animal products...can someone help me out here? 

I'm pretty sure this cost right around $3.29, and is in the fresh section - not frozen. Can be heated up in the oven or microwave if so inclined. I did neither and just ate them cold at work - no oven (no time for one anyways) and our microwaves there tend to ruin stuff more than enhance them. It may be a little on the small side at first glance, but one of these fueled me for several hours without too much tummy rumbles, so it's fairly filling. "Super" is an overstatement, but a lot catchier than "adequate", I suppose.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Super Burrito!: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Brooklyn Babka

Most of the time when I see this item on social media, it's accompanied by some disclaimer along the lines of "I'm from the West Coast, so I've never heard of babka," or "I'm from the South, so I don't know what babka is." Well, I've lived most of my life in the Northeast and taken many trips to NYC, and although I've heard of babka, I've never actually had it—from Brooklyn or anywhere else. So this will be another fine example of my foodie-hackery at work. I've had plenty of opportunities to sample it during my time in the Big Apple, but it has always taken a back seat to pizza from Lombardi's, soft pretzels from street vendors, hot dogs from Nathan's, cannolis from Little Italy, pudding from Rice to Riches, or dim sum from Chinatown. Next time I'm there, I'll be sure to check it out.

But here are my first impressions (Brooklynites, feel free to chime in and correct my assumptions via the comments section below). This thing is heavy. And chocolatey. And rich. It's another Jewish-American treat that arrived in the states by way of European immigrants—and Trader Joe's is making it accessible to the masses. It's a $5 item here in South Jersey, but it's worth it in terms of size, density, and servings (there are 9 in the loaf).

There's something brownie-esque about both the taste and texture, although it's more bread-like than a brownie, and taste-wise, slightly more complex. It's like marble rye bread infused with brownie batter, layers of cocoa, and chocolate chips. Parts of the bread seem stiff (in a good way) but there's also a good bit of moisture, both in the "cake" part and on top, where there's a layer of chips and sweet, syrupy chocolatiness. It's almost too chocolately, if there is such a thing.

Surprisingly, there are both organic soybeans and organic tofu in the ingredients, along with a few other surprises, although, I assure you—you can't taste much of anything other than chocolate, chocolate, bread, and more chocolate. I suppose that's good for chocoholics. Me? I have to be in the mood for this kind of richness. It's delicious, but at the same time, this pastry could never be more than a once-in-a-great-while treat for me. Have a glass of milk on stand-by when you bite into that first piece. 3.5 stars from me. 3 stars from the wifey.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles

Appropriately enough, my thoughts regarding one of the newer TJ treats out there, Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles, are kinda...well...jumbled.

Follow along with me here, if I can be coherent enough. Imagine you purchased a pint of ice cream (say, vanilla-based) with milk chocolate swirls, pecans, caramel, toasted quinoa (more on that in a bit), and to really kick up the flavor, some sea salt all swirled in. Sounds delicious, right? You bet. Now, think if while digging thru your bowlful you happened to get a particularly thick, concentrated swirl in a rich vein where all the swirled-in flavors converged in one particularly tasty nugget of goodness. Taste jackpot? You bet. But that'd be like a once in a pintful experience, at most, and as good as it is, how many rich spoonfuls could you really muster and truly enjoy to the fullest? Isn't there something to be said for an unintentionally perfect surprise morsel that makes the other bites, the random thisses and thats that converge, that make that one bite even more enjoyable, that if it were to be repeated over and over again, somehow becomes less enjoyable? Talking like Law of Diminishing Returns-type stuff here, I guess. Make any sense? Sandy said I did, but she's also been hanging around me for over seven years now, God bless her, so either she's used to me or it's a coping mechanism.

Anyways, thanks for listening to me make a mumble grumble about these Jumbles. I don't mean it as a complaint, it's just something I thought about a lot while sampling a few of these the other night. They're just so rich, and so nicely balanced, without any variation from bite to bite, that it's almost like they try too hard to be perfect.

Although, I'll say it, they're not. While there is plenty of gritty crispiness from the quinoa (similar in taste to crisped rice but much different texture - gritty is best word I could come up with, it's not meant negatively), the pecans are indiscernible in the crunch or the the taste. I cannot honestly confirm or deny the existence of any nut in this product based solely on my taste test.

Other than that, the choco-jumbles are pretty tasty. Milk chocolate was the right choice here - although I generally prefer darker chocolate, it would have been too much. The caramel is rich and soft and creamy, and the quinoa adds just the right textural touch while serving  as a bit of an initial intriguing oddity - I'll 'fess up, it's one of the main reasons why I bought them. But quinoa + chocolate = YUMZ. And the seal salt on top? Listen, I'm not a salt snob, I can barely tell Morton's from gourmet, but pink Himalayan sea salt: 1) sounds exotic-y and 2) taste right at home on top these candies. Take me to the heights of tastiness, salt sherpa.

They do seem to quite quite rich after the second - a serving size is three and that took some convincing for me to have that many, and these are good enough that I know (my lack of) willpower is not the main issue. Goes back to that ice cream thing I talked about above. Anyways, they're worth a shot overall. Sandy and I both hover around a 3.5 and 4 for them, so we're gonna call it one of each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Jumbles: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cinnamon British Style Crumpets

I'm comfortable enough with my masculinity, or perhaps my 'Murican-ness, or whatever it is I have to be comfortable with, to admit that I watch (and love) Downton Abbey. In fact, Sonia and I recently visited the Downton Abbey exhibit at the Winterthur estate in Wilmington, DE. Fun stuff if you're in the area.

And maybe it's the few drops of English nobility in my blood, but every once in a while I get a thirst for a spot of tea. I've often proclaimed in my best British accent—imitating Lord Grantham—that it's "time for tea and crumpets," but until this fateful first full week of 2015, have never actually had crumpets on hand. Generally, I had to substitute toast for crumpets, but now, thanks to Trader Joe, that's changed.

I'm pretty sure the traditional English crumpet isn't necessarily cinnamon-flavored like these muffins are, but the cinnamon was very subtle in this particular instance. They still tasted good with grape jelly, but I preferred mine heated in the toaster and eaten plain with butter—or even with a bit of maple syrup, which I suppose is more Canadian than British, but hey, I'm international like that.

They were almost like a hybrid of traditional pancakes and English muffins, but doughier than either of those. They were similar to little round sponges, soaking up whatever we put on them very quickly. We ate them for breakfast, served with TJ's Earl Grey Tea, and it was wonderful—enough to keep me speaking with an obnoxious British accent for hours, which by the way, is an excellent way to drive away strangers seeking small talk at bus stops and such, just in case you're tragically introverted and antisocial like I am.

At $2.49 for six, this product is simply brill. Sonia gives them 4.5 stars, and I give 'em 4. Really, really darn good.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gingerbread Pancake Mix

I'm going to kick off this review by comparing these pancakes to a cereal we reviewed earlier this year. First, they're both for breakfast. Second, we prepared both of them with milk (although the instructions for these pancakes said to just add water). Thirdly and most importantly, they were both just too gingery for us. Or rather, certain bites were just too gingery for us in both cases.

The ginger bits in the batter had a tendency to sink down to the bottom of our mixing bowl, so the first few pancakes we made were just like regular flapjacks but with a mild to moderate gingerbreadishness about them. Really pleasant overall. With butter and maple syrup, they tasted really good, and the gingerbread vibe was a nice holiday twist. However, the last few pancakes had at least one hunk of "crystallized" ginger in every bite. 

You can chalk it up to user error and say we should have fluffed up the batter a bit before each pancake hit the skillet—and in hindsight, that might have solved the problem. But even then, I think there would have been too much ginger. It might have been a blessing in disguise that the first half of our pancake batch was relatively ginger free. Because the ones with ginger were WAY too gingery, even dressed up with butter and syrup.

Each ginger chunk was about the size of the piece of pimento you might find in an olive. That might not sound very big, but the flavor of ginger is so potent, it overshadowed everything else. We were expecting something that tasted like gingerbread, not raw ginger. Ginger's great as a spice, but it's just too much for Sonia and I when it becomes the main attraction.

This pancake mix isn't a complete fail, in my opinion, but you really have to love the taste and texture of actual ginger for them to be considered a win. Sonia's only other comment: "Not terribly impressed." She gives them 2.5 stars. I'll be the slightly less grinchy Grinch this time and give a 3.5.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Rolls

Back in the summer of 2011, Sonia and I were involved in an embarrassing debacle involving a tube of aggressive cinnamon rolls. We were accused of being inexperienced, un-American, and unintelligent. Admittedly, I did erroneously state that there were six rolls in the tube, rather than five, multiple times throughout the post. But the comments on that review weren't just typical trollery. Maybe they hurt my pride so much because they actually pointed out legitimate criticisms along the lines of "Why were you and your wife expecting to store some of the rolls in the tube after opening it?" and "Why did you run out of frosting when most people have a bunch left over?" Perhaps I don't feel the proper amount of shame for my gluttonous frosting hoggery. Perhaps I should have paid more attention in Home Ec when we baked pre-packaged biscuits in the oven—an assignment for which I received an S- for "barely satisfactory." The look of scorn shot at our group by our instructor should have been sufficiently severe castigation all by itself, but she also forced us to eat our culinary abominations in front of the rest of the class. I should have learned my lesson then. 

But in our defense, Sonia and I really didn't grow up baking these things—Trader Joe's brand, Pillsbury, or otherwise. Sonia's family was a family of immigrants. And they chose to spend their hard-earned dollars on more familiar foods like churros and conchas, neither of which involve perplexing packaging or exploding tubes. My family was plagued with food allergies to wheat and sugar, among many others. So ready-to-bake pastries were unheard of in my childhood home. All this to say, please don't judge us too harshly when I tell you that we experienced the same difficulties with the packaging of this product. That's still Sonia's biggest complaint. She doesn't like the tube dealie.

But at any rate, the product within was good. And there were five little pumpkin rolls, not six. The bread was slightly cinnamony, but not particularly pumpkinny. The icing was by far the most pumpkin-riffic element of the product, with a taste falling somewhere in between melted pumpkin ice cream and pumpkin butter. The texture of the pumpkin icing was not unlike that of the sweet white frosting that came with those notorious cinnamon rolls. And like the original cinnamon roll icing, we used every last drop of it—and probably wouldn't have minded a tad more. It's a product most pumpkinophiles will surely enjoy.

In the end, though, I'd probably pick the original cinnamon rolls over these, while Sonia enjoyed these pumpkin-flavored ones a bit more—and our scores reflect those sentiments.

Nathan: 3.5 stars.

Sonia: 4 stars.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Toasted Coconut Pancake Mix

A couple weeks back, with my folks in town for the weekend, I made coconut flour pancakes for breakfast. Look at me, trying to be a fancy caveman on a diet (down close to 30 lbs now!). They weren't that hard to make - a little coconut flour, a banana or two, a henhouse worth of eggs in the blender - but to be honest, they weren't that great, in my opinion. There's a problem, I think, with trying to make one thing taste like something else while omitting a key ingredient or seven - if you know what it's "supposed" to taste like, chances are, you're not gonna be happy with an alternate outcome. Prime example: these not-so-great English muffin wannabes. Granted, perhaps I'm speaking from a position of privilege (no major food issues or allergies or conditions), but to me, given no health restraints, if you wanna eat a pancake, just go make some real pancakes, even if you're on a paleo diet. You'll live. Cavemen would probably still be around if there were a prehistoric IHOP or two. Just sayin'.

With this in mind, when I saw Trader Joe's Toasted Coconut Pancake Mix, I figured it'd be worth a try and a small dietary cheat. Admittedly, at first I was a little enticed with the presumptive hope that they'd be paleo-friendly with the ease of "just add water", but a quick scan of the ingredients revealed otherwise pretty quick. Eh well.

Tell ya what: as a guy who's always been much more eggs-and-bacon than breakfast-carb-centric, I enjoyed these quite a bit. There's not much that's real special, per se, about these flapjacks, except they work in a very simple, straightforward, satisfying way. While the batter is typical hotcake matter, there's ample coconut flakes interspersed throughout that while cooking get a little crispy and add a lot of coconut flavor that stands out. And like a good pancake, the edges got a little crispied themselves (my favorite part) that, despite my very limited pancake-making prowess, turned out pretty well. Making them was a cinch - I've had other pancake mixes that turned into clumpy disasters when aquafied, but not these. A double batch made twelve decent sized pancakes, which were devoured easily by the wife, the toddler, the teenager, and me with a little maple syrup. I'd imagine with the coconut, some tropical fruits or powdered sugar would make a great accompaniment as well.

Sandy enjoyed them right around the same amount I did. "Yummmm....I just wish you were better at making pancakes," she said. Fine, rub it in that I slightly blackened or squished one or two. Not every one can make the fantastic crepes like you can, dear. You should try that with the remaining mix, by the way. Regardless, this mix is a hit - can't go wrong for the couple bucks it'll set you back.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Toasted Coconut Pancake Mix: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons