Trader Joe's Skinny Fries

They're called "skinny" fries, perhaps not because they are skinnier than fast food French fries in size and shape, but presumably because they will make you skinnier if you choose them over fast food French fries. They're crispity and crunchity, and their flavor is vaguely reminiscent of an actual fry, but unfortunately, they taste like a reduced-guilt option.

They're very light. Not only low in calories, but each individual fry seems to carry no mass—as if they would float out of your hand if prompted to do so by the subtlest breeze. Although, paradoxically, there does seem to be a fine oily residue on each fry. They taste a bit like natural potato, and they taste a bit like vegetable oil. They're lightly seasoned with sea salt, and they do contain some wheat flour, but I must say I couldn't really taste it. 

If you're looking for something along the same lines, but actually want a bit more flavor, we recommend Trader Joe's Veggie Sticks. Not quite as light, but they're certainly not going to give you a heart attack—at least not by themselves. The Veggie Sticks are extremely similar to these Skinny Fries in taste and texture, but the Skinny Fries fall just a bit short in each category, especially flavor. 

Honestly, if I were going to choose a light, fluffy snack, and it had to be on the bland side, I'd probably choose a rice cake over these Skinny Fries. If I wanted something in the direction of an actual French fry, I'd go get some actual French fries (Trader Joe's has multiple oven-ready varieties). And if I were looking for some potato-crisp, fry-esque noshables, I'd go with the aforementioned Veggie Sticks. I just can't see us ever having occasion to buy these Skinny Fries again. They're not bad, but there are just too many better alternatives out there, in my opinion.

Maybe if you're a fan of the Veggie Sticks, but want to shave a few more calories off of your afternoon snack, these might be for you. We don't want to beat them down too hard, but we also can't muster a lot of enthusiasm for them. Sonia gives them 3 stars. I give them 2.5.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Wild Blueberry Pie

Since the Fourth of July is right around the corner, we'll go ahead and review this American picnic classic: blueberry pie. Perhaps it's not as stereotypically American as apple pie, but it's made with real Maine blueberries, and if you serve it on a traditional tablecloth like the one in the photo to the left, you've got an authentic slice of Americana, complete with red, white, and blueberry pie.

Upon first bite, I was a little disappointed with the texture and taste of the crust. It's a poor imitation of homemade, it lacks uniqueness, and while I wouldn't call it "stale," it's way too stiff to feel like it's even approaching "fresh." Plus, it's entirely bland.

The blueberries were a shade more exciting. Hundreds of perfect little blueberries in a subtly-sweet, semi-syrupy sauce saved the flavor of this pie. Coming straight out of the fridge, however, there was still an overall firmness that left me feeling like I was munching on something that fell a great deal short of the high standards I hold TJ's to.

Sonia microwaved her second piece for twenty seconds or so, and claimed that it greatly improved the pastry. I followed suit, and wouldn't you know it—the pie took a giant leap in the direction of delicious. Still, the crust couldn't be redeemed entirely, but the smoothness of the blueberry elements all but made up for it.

Could be if you tried this pie at an actual outdoor picnic that the hundred degree temperatures would have a similar effect as twenty seconds in the microwave. But served cold or warm, it's still a far cry from fresh-baked. However, keeping in mind that it's ready-made, sitting on a shelf, and only about $5 for a whole pie, we'll be merciful when we give our scores.

Sonia and I are on the same page with this one. 3 stars a piece. Not bad.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Oriental Rice Crackers

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Almond Croissants

I'll admit it: Sandy and I were bad on Sunday. B-a-d bad. Let's go in reverse here. We went to a Greek food festival for lunch, where after our gyros and stuffed grape leaves got settled in, both of us shared a plateful of baklava, halvadopites, and other assorted goodies. Awesome stuff. This was right after being at church, where for some unknown reason, someone brought in white chocolate cranberry scones and brownies which we both felt a little inclined to, err, "sample" and make sure they tasted good (oh, they did). That by itself is still kinda bad, all that pastry/baked goods tastiness, but when you include what we had for breakfast, well, it's a whole 'nother level.

Oh yeah, we had Trader Joe's Almond Croissants. One of my coworkers tipped me off about the croissants, and Sandy and I finally spotted them on the freezer aisle on Saturday. Let me tell you this right off the bat: a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Oh goodness. These might have been the best thing we ate all day, and that says a lot. Upon first bite, I was in love. The buttery, crispy outer shell gave way to soft, warm flaky, melt-in-your mouth innards that were so rich, sweet and almondy that it tasted almost creamy, if that makes any sense. It was almost like eating straight-up almond paste in croissant form, with toasted almonds on top adding a complementary crunch.

If I chose to, I could have a couple quibbles. The product's real name is "Trader Joe's 4 Almond Croissants," which is goofy enough for me to refuse to really acknowledge it. There's not four types of almonds in these croissants (are there even four types of almonds?), nor just four almonds per croissant, which is the name seems it would imply over just the quantity in the box. More so, this is the rare easy-to-make treat that requires some significant planning ahead, because they have to proof overnight (ours roughly quintupled in size) and then need about 25 minutes in the oven. Because of that, these aren't doable for our normal rush-out-the-door-to-work kinda morning, but that's okay. These nutty croissants are meant to enjoy leisurely with a cup of your favorite coffee, unless TJ's discontinues yours, like they did with mine. A couple batches of these would steal the show at pretty much any brunch, and while it'd be disingenuous, I'd dare you to try and pass them off as your own. As for the nutritional facts...it's a freakin' croissant, what do you expect?

"There's really not anything that these could do any better," Sandy said between bites. Oh, I agree. No complaints at all. I just wish I remembered we had some powdered sugar I could've sprinkled on top before serving them up, but that's what next time's for. Until then, we'll be dreaming of these pastry Pantheon-worthy perfections.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almond Croissants: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Bistro Biscuits

I'm generally not big on hard, dry cookies...or "biscuits" if you must—but these crisp caramelized treats are one of a handful of exceptions to that rule. My initial impulse was to compare these cookies with Barnum's Animals crackers, which everyone knows are the creme dela creme of the animal cracker kingdom, far superior to even those with nifty pink frosting that come in giant bags. These biscuits reflect the quality and good taste of the Barnum's Animals, but possess a slightly more complex flavor. There's an essence of gingerbread present—and the word "caramelized," used on the packaging, has a certain propriety in this case, so long as you're not thinking of caramelized onions as I unfortunately do whenever I hear the word "caramelized."

After trying several of these dessert-ish biscuits, I was overcome with a shameful impulse... I wanted to put Speculoos Cookie Butter on them. And I did. For those of you with a severe simple sugar deficiency, that combo may well just be the cure that you're looking for. It's intensely sweet and gingery, and it'll send your system into sugar shock in the blink of an eye, and will cause a four-alarm fire in your mouth that only a good glass of milk can put out. Hours later, independently of me, after just a bite or two, Sonia was struck with the same impulse to slather her biscuits with cookie butter. Like me, she quickly satisfied both her contemptible culinary craving and her recommended weekly allowance of sugar in one fell swoop.

Flavor-wise they're winners, but again, their dryness begs for milk or coffee or tea. Did you ever, just sheerly out of curiosity, try a dog biscuit in your youth? I know I did. And it was never the taste that revolted me, it was always the texture—the dryness. It's like that with these Bistro Biscuits, except that they're way better than most dog biscuits. Both texture and flavor. Way better. I guess the dog biscuits are a really bad comparison to make. Nevermind that then. Please disregard this paragraph.

Sonia liked them a lot. With or without cookie butter. She gives them a 4. They remind her of actual British biscuits. She's had the real thing. I'll give them a 3. They're tasty little buggers, but again, I don't think they're particularly great as a stand-alone food. Check them out if you're into the whole "dunking" thing. And definitely try them with cookie butter, but have extra insulin standing by.

P.S. - These biscuits are vegan.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Falafel Chips

I didn't know what to expect from falafel made into a chip. Trader Joe's Heat and Eat Falafel was a big hit here on WG@TJ's back in our heyday, May of '11. Tasty stuff. So we knew TJ's could do falafel right.

And we've encountered multiple kinds of successful chips from Trader Joe's. True, they're not batting 1.000, but they've done more right than wrong. So we had reasons to be hopeful.

And I must say, these are among the better Trader Joe's chips I've had. Unique. The kind of product that makes you question things. Things like: why do Americans only eat potato chips and tortilla chips, with very few exceptions? Well, because those are the only things that are on the shelf. But really, if every shelf in America were stocked to the brim with falafel chips, wouldn't they catch on just as well? Wouldn't brands of falafel chips be airing big-budget commercials during NBA playoffs and Stanley Cup Finals, too? If you eat them, will they not crunch? If you snack on them, will they not produce deliciousness?

I don't mean to wax philosophical on you when you're reading this to find out my opinion of these chips. I'm just trying to point out the fact that the type of chips we eat is really arbitrary—as life itself can be, sometimes. I'm just tryna' say get over your chip-prejudices, erase your preconceptions, and open your minds. The falafel chip is the brother of the tortilla chip, akin, yes—even to the potato.

I actually think these remind me most of the new Tostitos Artisan Recipes Roasted Garlic and Black Bean Chips, which are also very good and worth trying. They're both nutty, crispy, and lightly spicy. One can totally tell these TJ's chips are made of falafel—but only if you're really thinking about falafel right when you're chewing them. If you dressed them up differently and called them "Crunchtastic Critters" and made no mention of ground-up garbanzo beans from the middle east, I highly doubt many people would go, "Oh my goodness, these chips taste just like falafel!"

We ate the chips with TJ's Spicy Hummus, but I think they might be equally snacktastic with salsa, bean dip, or cheese sauce. They're firm enough to plow through a vat of hummus, but delicate enough for a sensitive mouth (like mine). Both taste and texture are very good, high-quality.

Sonia's going to give them a 4.5 star rating. I can't go much lower than that. 4 stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Ginger Snaps

Oh SNAP! These ginger cookies are gluten free!

Once again we have a Trader Joe's victory in gluten free-flavor, and uh...a Trader Joe's...valiant effort in gluten-free texture.

There's an unexpected lemoniness to these cookies that makes them delightful at first bite. There's also a gingeriness, but...that's to be expected. I have mixed feelings about ginger. It's good for you. That's good. In cookies, it can add flavor. That's good. Sometimes it adds too much flavor. That's bad. There's ginger beer. That's good. There's ginger tea. That's bad. Ginger by itself is nasty as heck. That's bad.

And ginger snaps? Well, they're hit or miss. They're generally a bit dry and snappy, which would kind of seem to lend them to a gluten-free form. But, unfortunately, in my humble opinion, these were a bit too dry and snappy. Like tear-up-your-mouth-by-the-second-cookie kind of dry and snappy. Like "Is the blood in my mouth adding or detracting from the taste of these delightful snacks?" kind of dry and snappy.

Sonia, on the other hand, liked them a lot. She sees where I'm coming from in the rips-your-mouth-to-shreds-worse-than-six-bowls-of-Captain-Crunch department. But I think her mouth is a little more resilient than mine, what with three-plus decades of real Mexican spices and L.A. food truck cuisine to build up her resistance to oral battery such as these weaponized cookies.

Seldom in life will you come across such a tasty food that has such a ridiculously inhospitable texture. I really wanted to eat more...but I could not bear the pain. It's something like drinking a Slurpee and getting a brain freeze, but instead of it being cold liquid, it's just ultra-crispy cookies. If I were to break down my 5 potential stars into 2.5 stars for taste and 2.5 stars for texture, these get all 2.5 stars in the flavor arena, and none of the stars in the texture arena. That might be a little harsh, but I'm still compulsively tonguing the roof of my mouth to see if it's healed yet. I say if you've got a mouth of steel—or if you're on a gluten-free diet and you need a tasty cookie, try them. Otherwise, steer clear.

Sonia gives them a 4. She's one tough cookie...just like these Ginger Snaps.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Peanut Butter Wafer Cookies

Are they wafers? Or are they cookies? Come on, Trader Joe, make up your mind. I think you could have just dropped the "cookies" from the already lengthy title of these delectable snacks. The term "wafers" would adequately describe them.

By now, if you've been reading this blog for a while, you should know that if we start off by critiquing the artwork on the bag or the name of the food itself, that there's not a whole lot else to complain about. It's always fun to start off an entry with a complaint. It grabs the reader's attention and gets them thinking about what kind of shallow, horrible people we are to tear apart their favorite grocery store chain's products on the highly subjective basis of flawed packaging, and it allows the reader to feel better about him or herself, knowing that he or she does not succumb to such trivialities, thus inflating the ego, generating a sense of well-being, and subconsciously inviting the reader to proceed into the rest of the semi-informative blog entry written by someone of questionable moral fiber.

Having purged myself of negativity in the preceding paragraph, I shall now go on to sing the praises of these snacksational wafers. Dark chocolate? Not even really a fan in general. I prefer white chocolate because it has more sugar. But as was the case with the Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Filled Cupcakes, there's a great balance of sweetness and richness. Sonia loves dark chocolate desserts as a rule, and these wafers were no exception.

As for the waferage, I was skeptical at first. The only dessert wafers I've ever had, prior to these, were those cheap, nasty artificial cream-filled deals that you get from vending machines. For some reason, those always taste stale to me, even when they're supposedly fresh. But the crispy, wafery part in Trader Joe's product was decidedly crunchable and happy, nestled among layers of creamy peanut butter.

They're the perfect size, too. They really are "bite-size," in my opinion. There are so many products out there that try to get away with that "bite-size" label, but really, bite-sized mini-wheats, who do you think you're fooling? I can easily fit 3 or 4 of those guys in my mouth in one bite. And what's up with sushi? I don't know if they cut the rolls into smaller bites in Asian countries, but every time I have a piece here, I feel like I've eaten an entire fish in one bite. I wind up chewing for ages. Way too big. But these wafers, er cookies, er wafer cookies...their size is spot on. Bite-freaking-sized. All other so-called "bite-sized" foodstuffs in existence should be produced with the exact dimensions of these wafers.

To summarize, we've got a great, crispy snack on our hands here. Sonia and I are both big fans. She's going with a 4.5. I'm a big fan, too, but I think I'll stick with 4 stars. But Trader Joe, if you're listening to me out there, if you ever make a white chocolate version, I promise I'll give 'em at least a 4.5...

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese

Based on either past employment or college eating habits, there's still a lot of foods I'm loathe to have again. For instance, I have nothing against either Papa John's or Domino's Pizza, but as I worked for both (and ate way too much of their respective pies), I'm not going to be ordering from them any time soon. Neither will I stop by a Boston Market...I worked for one in high school, and I've seen how things are made, and smelled how nasty the chicken skewer-soaking vat o' acid is..no thanks. In December, it will be nine years since I graduated from Penn State, and I think since then I've had about ten packs of Ramen noodles, which is about what I consumed every three days in Happy Valley.

For a long time, mac and cheese was in the same boat. I'm not talking about the homemade stuff, of course. That's nearly always delicious, especially when made by my sister-in-law Megan, and occasionally by my mom when she isn't trying to sneak canned tuna into it (I HATE tuna - blahhh). I'm talking the from-a-box, ten-minutes-on-a-stovetop-type stuff. I could never bring myself to go the Easy Mac route. But yeah, when it wasn't pizza or Ramen in college, it was a box of Kraft. Occasionally I got fancy and got the shells and cheese version, but that got old, too.

Anyways, we're here to talk about Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese, with (allegedly) Wisconsin cheddar. For whatever reason, probably partially because we've been crazily busy, Sandy and I have gone on a kick with it. At first, yeah, I wasn't so excited about it, but I'll admit, it's growing on me. It's the typical elbow macaroni in a box with some cheesy powder to mix in with some milk and butter, of which I usually put in just a little extra to make the sauce a little creamier. The macaroni is just about right (which, let's be honest, would be hard to screw up) while the cheese, well...it's been so long since I've had the famous blue box brand that I don't recall exactly how that tastes to make a direct comparison, but the TJ's strikes me as being just better. I doubt that the cheese flavor is so authentically Wisconsinite that it matches perfectly with a Spotted Cow, but hey, it is kinda cheddary and tasty enough on its own. It's even better with some hot sauce mixed in (haven't tried the TJ's yet, but just finally kicked a gallon jug of Red Devil, so I will soon!) to make what I, for whatever reason, call "schmac 'n cheese." Hmm, that sounds even dumber when I type it...anyways....

For a buck a box, the mac 'n cheese does its job. It's not the best mac 'n cheese product that TJ's offers (there's a competitor or two), but for a quick, reliable, chewing-optional bite, I think it's good. No, it won't beat out your Aunt Millie's, but nothing from a box ever will. As the one who initially semi-twisted my arm into buying it, Sandy is definitely a fan. "Much better than Kraft, and so good with hot sauce," she said before slapping a four on it. Me? It's helping restore my faith in a boxed convenience American classic. That's worth at least something like a four as well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Macaroni and Cheese: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Turkey Corn Dogs

My friend Trader Joe is the corn dog king. He did Veggie Corn Dogs right. He even did some kick-butt Shrimp Corn Dogs. And slightly less weird than Shrimp Corn Dogs—he went and made some scrump-dilly Turkey Corn Dogs, too.

TJ's is batting a thousand with corn dogs if you ask me. My scores have been slightly higher than Sonia's, but she's more or less in agreement. She was never a fan of corn dogs before Trader Joe showed up on the scene. I've always liked corn dogs—even the kind from the scary, greasy lunch trucks that don't publish their ingredients and are more than likely made at least partially of pig snouts, hooves, and other kinds of scrapple-type stuff. I know it's not necessarily your forté, Trader Joe, but I certainly wouldn't mind an all-beef corn dog. I'm not much of a pig-eater anymore, but if you made an oldschool pork corn dog, I'd totally try it.

But, ah, the good people reading this post would like to know about these Turkey Corn Dogs. I think these could be the best TJ's corn dogs yet - the best TJ's food I've eaten in a while. No complaints. Had 'em with ketchup, but they were more than fine just plain. Perfect balance of cornbread outside and yummy turkey poultry meatiness inside. And it didn't taste like regular turkey...it totally tasted like a turkey dog. Not that regular turkey would have been a bad taste—just kind of strange, maybe? There's a certain consistency to a good turkey dog that just rocks when served within a cornbread shell. And the wooden stick never hurts. I don't know what it is, but food always tastes better on a stick: think lollipops, cotton candy, shish kabobs, and that corn-on-the-cob that Latinos eat with butter, mayo, chili powder, and lime. Mmmm.

Sonia gives these a 4. That's a really good score for Sonia for a corn dog. And...I...think...I'm totally gonna go out on a limb and give these the first perfect score I've given anything in a long time. 5. Boom. There it is.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Super Nutty Toffee Clusters

Ah...remember the 80's? (cue Goat Boy's baa-ing). Sonia and I got into an epic conversation the other day about how great it was growing up in the 80's. Two of the prime components of those glorious youthful days were Saturday morning cartoons and the breakfast cereals we'd inhale as we consumed those primitive animated TV shows—or "30 minute-long toy commercials" as some have put it. A cynical, yet not inaccurate observation.

The conversation flowed over Masters of the Universe, She-Ra, and beyond. The Smurfs (before they were C.G.) and the Shirt Tales were mentioned. We disagreed a bit on cereals. I thoroughly enjoyed tooth-rotting rice and sugar based cereals like Fruity Pebbles, while Sonia preferred tooth-rotting corn and sugar based cereals like Froot Loops. (Mexicans are all about their maize). But we had some common ground on tooth-rotting oat and sugar based cereals like Lucky Charms, which we both thoroughly enjoyed.

Then we proceeded to talk about the "healthy" cereals we enjoy as adults, such as Basic 4, Raisin Nut Bran, and Cracklin' Oat Bran. All classics. And in my opinion, they all overshadow this Nutty Toffee nonsense. It's certainly not terrible, but it's not my favorite. As much of a sweet tooth as I may have, I'm not really into the whole "toffee" thing. I've eaten some Heath and Skor bars in my day, but they're just nothing compared to Zero or Snickers. It must be the nougat. (Note to self: invent cereal featuring massive amounts of nougat and market it as being sorta healthy).

But anyway, I do have to be almost kinda sort of slightly objective. My opinion isn't the only opinion. So I'm going to semi-objectively describe this cereal to you. It's similar to Honey Bunches of Oats or Honey Nut Clusters. The flakes are light and...well, flakey. And then there are little clustery things. (Hence the word "cluster" in the title). Only, in this cereal the clusters are full of mapley-nutty-toffee-matter instead of honey-oat-matter. They could have totally called this "Nutty Bunches of Toffee." Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind Honey Bunches of Oats or anything, I just don't think it's among the truly great cereals of our time like the ones mentioned in the paragraph above. It's a little overrated if you ask me. Also, you'll have to love toffee to love this cereal. And nuts. And not just good nuts like almonds and pecans, but also Brazil nuts—which, in my humble opinion, are nearly as revolting as pine nuts, which are, in my humble opinion, the worst nuts EVER. (Brazil nuts being the second to worst nuts EVER). Again, don't get me wrong. I love Brazil. Two of the nicest people I've ever met were from Brazil. I roomed with one of them for a while. And I absolutely admire that country's commitment to using biodiesel in its vehicles. And they produce good soccer players. It's just their nuts I'm not a big fan of.

Sonia gives Trader Joe's Toffee-ish Clusters of Nuts a 3.5. She likes it overall, but thinks it's too hearty. She's not crazy about Brazil nuts either. I give it a 2.5. But if you're a fan of Brazil nuts, toffee, Honey Bunches of Oats, and little clustery do-dads, then by all means, go for it.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 stars.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Filled Pretzels

Peanut butter pretzels. It'd be pretty hard to screw these up. Pretzels = good. Peanut butter = good. Peanut butter pretzels = good x 2. I have met a handful of people that don't like peanut butter in my day, though. I'm guessing these wouldn't be winners with those special people. But other than that...of course these are gonna be good. But ... the question is: how good?

Well, as I've mentioned many times before, we've come to expect more from TJ's than just meeting expectations. If regular grocery store brands could make a decent peanut butter filled pretzel, then we expect TJ's to make something absolutely killer. Trader Joe's does offer both salted and unsalted varieties of this product. (We're only reviewing the salty kind right now). But just the fact that TJ's thought of people on low sodium diets shows that their thinking is a little different. A good different.

But to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure they did everything they could with these. They could have messed around with the texture of the peanut butter a bit. Each pretzel had a sort of peanut butter nugget-thing inside of it. It wasn't particularly creamy. It was just kind of a ball of semi-firm peanut butteriness. And the pretzels were...just pretzels. Nothing particularly special.

Now, in their defense, there's really nothing in particular wrong with them either. I've eaten these in my car on my way to work now just about every day for the past month or so. They're bite-sized, highly snackable, happy little morsels. So, it might seem like I'm being harsh on a perfectly tasty product, which I am...but if these were among the best of the best TJ's products, I would certainly not have been nibbling on a few of them each day for a month...because they would never have lasted in our pantry for more than a day or two. All in all, you get peanut butter in a pretzel. No more, no less. If you're at TJ's and you have a particular hankerin' for some peanut butter-filled pretzels, by all means, you should pick some of these puppies up...But don't make a special trip for them.

I give them a 3. Sonia does, too. (She has tried the unsalted kind and likes those slightly better for some strange reason).

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Corn Penne Pasta

Although I know it's kinda ridiculous to, I feel kinda bad for people with celiac disease or who are otherwise gluten-intolerant. I know it's not pity that those people want, but guess it's just a mild case of inherent self-guilt that while I can eat pretty much anything I want to, those with different allergies and intolerances just can't, and dangit, gluten is pretty much in everything and anything, and, from the outside looking in, that sucks for you all. In a purely jesting way, it doesn't seem that glamorous to have - the most well known celiac celebrity is Keith Olbermann, for goodness sake, and when I think glamorous, I do not think Keith Olbermann. Although, both Drew Brees and Posh Spice make the gluten-free list, so there's some hope, I guess. I also guess that Trader Joe's does a better job than most shops for having a gluten-free selection but my experiences have been kinda hit and miss. Maybe that's because, in my recollection, I've found only one passable treat (Nathan found a great one), I once tried the TJ's rice flour tortillas and, oh goodness, those were so gawd-awful I cringe thinking of them. Just take my word: YUCK. BLAHHH. DISGUSTING. Enough said about those, let's talk about something much tastier...say some Trader Joe's Corn Pasta Penne?

Corn's used for pretty much anything and everything these days, but this is the first I've seen it used to make pasta. That seems like such a simple, yet semi-brilliant, idea, despite the slightly redundant name. Other than the packaging, there's pretty much no indication that this isn't the normal semolina fare. The penne seems perhaps a little thicker and slightly more yellow than the standard, but it'd be hard telling them apart in a police line-up. I'd also say they take a little bit longer to cook. Other than that, boil some up and put on some sauce and whatever else (pictured here with the roasted garlic marinara [meh] and meatless meatballs [see this for my general thoughts on them, it's close enough])*, and you got a plate or bowl full of a pretty tasty dinner. Sandy swore she could taste the difference - "It kinda slides in here and there, and tastes kinda-but-not-really like a corn chip," she says - but me? Nah. It looks and tastes so close to the "real thing" that it's tough for me to draw the distinction. I think that's a pretty high compliment.

There's not really anything bad I can say about the corn penne, and in fact I hope TJ's extends the line to include other pasta types. Really, I could see these taking off, and for $1.39 for a pounder, they're reasonably priced. They're that good, and who knows, maybe they're a game changer for the gluten-free crowd. That's not to say I'll rate them among the stars. Sandy, as usual, said it best. "I'd rate them higher except...well, they're not 'special' enough," she said. "Like I wish they were a little more different from normal pasta that they stood out more." That's a pretty accurate statement, and I think a pair of matching fours from the two of us fit the bill pretty well.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Corn Penne Pasta: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Let's see, for dinner I ate pasta made from corn and meatballs made from, well, something not meat. If the sauce wasn't made from tomatoes, I *do not* want to know what it was.

Trader Joe's Pasta with Sockeye Salmon & Asparagus

This is the fishiest thing I've had in a long time. Maybe ever. And relatively recently, I've had some day-old scallop soup from an all-you-can-eat buffet in Atlantic City that made me puke a couple hours later. In defense of this Trader Joe's concoction, it did NOT make me puke. But quite honestly, the semi-rancid scallop soup tasted a heck of a lot better on the way down.

The word "sockeye" doesn't sound particularly appetizing to me. Of course, salmon is almost always delicious. Sonia has always been a huge fan of salmon. I like fish in general, and pretty much any sort of seafood or swimmy animal meat (except for acquatic mammals, of course, but I don't think people really eat them anyway). Mahi-mahi, or "dolphin-fish," is not really dolphin. It's fish. But that's neither here nor there, so let's get back to this revolting, fishy pasta medley.

It's not the pasta or the veggies that ruined this dish. Not by a longshot. The pasta, veggies, and sauce were completely forgettable. Which is good in a way. If they had been any worse, I might have been tempted to stop shopping at TJ's altogether for fear of ever having another product as revolting as this one could have been. But if they had been significantly better, it would have been a crying shame that they were so utterly ruined by the fishiness of the fish they were packaged with.

The only thing that was really terrible about this dish was the fish. I've never had such fishy salmon. I've never had such fishy fish. Ever. And I've eaten Shark, Tilapia, Trout, Sunfish, Mahi-mahi, Salmon, Anchovies, Tuna, Halibut, and probably dozens of other varieties of fish. Sonia and I debated whether or not the stray cats in the neighborhood, who are no doubt on the verge of starvation here in the middle of a Pennsylvania winter (albeit a very mild one) would eat this most fishiest of fish meat to save their scrawny hides from a sad, slow, and painful death. We never came to a definitive conclusion.

My advice is that unless you have some really bizarre proclivity for unbelievably fishy-tasting things, that you should avoid this product at all costs. This is the most disappointing salmon I've ever had. Period. The salmon in $2.00 Lean Cuisine frozen meals is pure gourmet, top-shelf delectability compared to this. When asked what she had to say about the product, Sonia simply replied, "disgusting." She gives it 1 star out of 5. I was tempted to give it less than one full star, but I'll give it a 1 since the non-fish ingredients weren't terrible. But overall, this is an epic fish FAIL.

Bottom line: 2 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Filled Cupcakes

After our last review, Sonia and I were feeling a bit gluten-deficient, so we ran out and picked up some cupcakes. Not gluten-free cupcakes. Regular old glutenful cupcakes.

Now, I was super hungry when I tried these for the first time. It was the day after we got them home from TJ's. The cupcakes were moist, rich, and delectastic. (Does that fictitious adjective work for you? I have mixed feelings about it. It's supposed to be a contraction of "delectable" and "fantastic," but it kind of loses some of its potency when I have to explain that. But probably most of you would have gotten it anyway...I think. But anyway, I digress). Yes, delectastic. And I'm not really the hugest fan of dark chocolate. I know dark chocolate is tres chic right now. Everybody loves chocolate, and dark chocolate is supposed to be better for you than milk chocolate because there's less sugar and more cocoa bean and more antioxidants and more magical unicorn juice and all that nonsense. But I'm actually a fan of white chocolate because there's more sugar and less good for you stuff—and perhaps one of the best desserts I've ever had was a white chocolate peanut butter cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory, which is one of the most unhealthy restaurants in existence. If you actually look at the nutrition information for what you're eating, you'll probably never go there again. But anyway, I digress again—for the second time in one paragraph. Maybe it's time for a new paragraph.

Ahem. My point was that I like sweeter chocolates better. But in this case, the dark chocolate was both rich and sweet. Sweet enough for me. It blended with the peanut butter beautifully. One of the best cupcakes in recent memory. And I've had some pretty tasty cupcakes in my day. Crumbs and Frosted Cupcakery come to mind. There are those who will tell you that Sprinkles is of the same caliber as those guys, but I'm not one of them. Nor is Sonia. I'm also hoping to check out cupcakes from the legendary Magnolia Bakery in Manhattan on our next trip to NYC. And for you gluten-free people who've made it this far into what has become a highly gluten-laden article, please please please check out Sweet Freedom Bakery in Center City Philadelphia next time you're there. Amazing. In fact, if you're kosher Jewish, vegan, or allergic to wheat, soy, corn, peanuts, eggs, and/or sugar, you can still check out their products. Seriously. I'm not sure what is in their stuff, but it's none of that stuff.

Definitely not the case with these TJ's cupcakes. In fact, I think I just named the entire ingredients list of these cupcakes in that big sentence near the end of the previous paragraph. But on with the review. I ate two cupcakes the first time I tried them. They were great. The following day, Sonia insisted that I have a third while she ate the final one. I didn't put up too much of a fight, even though my tummy was protesting because of the first two cupcakes. (I am gluten-sensitive, but not really gluten-intolerant). This third cupcake was definitely not as good as the first two. It might be partly because I wasn't as hungry, but I think a big part of it was that the cupcakes were actually beginning to get stale. It had only been about 24 hours, but there was a distinct difference. Those first two cupcakes would have gotten a 5 from me. That third cupcake would only get a 4. So I'll split the difference and give these guys a highly-respectable 4.5 stars out of 5.

Sonia gives them 4 stars. She says they're not too sweet, just sweet enough. She says its a perfect peanut butter to chocolate ratio. She's a fan. And she's an even bigger cupcake connoisseur than I am.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Crispy Crunchy Chocolate Chip Cookies

We're always getting review requests here at WG@TJs. It's often for random individual products that people are too scared to try...but there are two categories in particular that people always want us to check out: vegetarian/vegan stuff and gluten-free stuff. Lately, it seems like gluten-free has been more popular than ever. Since Sonia and I are both sensitive to gluten, we've tried a handful of TJ's gluten-free products just for our own benefit. (We usually just go ahead and eat regular wheat products and suffer the consequences). But we're also trying to help people who really have to do the gluten-free thing out of absolute necessity.

And thankfully for sufferers of Celiac Disease, there are a few products out there that make gluten seem downright unnecessary. This is one of them.

Sonia and I were both amazed by the taste of this product. Really amazing chocolate chip cookie taste. They're very, very chocolatey, with a strangely home-made quality for being super-crispy, packaged in plastic, and well...wheat free. There's a picture of what appears to be some colonial type bakers cooking up a batch of these things. Who knows? Maybe the gluten-intolerants of the seventeenth century whipped up batches of crispy rice-flour cookies all the time. Or maybe they were burned at the stake because their intolerance of wheat was assumed to be some sort of divine retribution for witchcraft. Whatever the case, I'm happy Trader Joe stumbled upon this tasty recipe.

The texture is exactly as described. Crispy and crunchy. And how! It usually seems like it's harder to nail the texture of a gluten-free product than the flavor, as was the case with Trader Joe's Gluten Free Brownies. If you really like the crunchy feel of crispy cookies like I do, these are spot on—but I do have to admit that I'm an even bigger fan of gigantic, warm, soft chocolate chip cookies. We may have to wait a while for them to uncover the magical formula that can yield a gluten-free batch of those. Until then, I'll be happily crunching away on these puppies. They reminded us of the little Famous Amos crispy cookies you get out of vending machines. But better.

Overall, I was very impressed. I'll give them 4 out of 5 stars. Sonia does too.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sweet Bites

Because I'm a lazy fool, for one third of this review, I'm simply going to refer you to this link. It's our review of the Raspberry "Macaron aux Framboises" Cake, one of the constituent parts of this Sweet Bites product. I like how TJ's uses the words "raspberry" and "cake" in the title of the product on this Sweet Bites box. Framboises means raspberries, and I'm pretty sure Macaron is a type of cake, so for those of you who are bilingual, speaking both French and English, you're probably reading that product name as "Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake" or some other such redundant nonsense.

I'm sure there aren't that many bilingual French/English speakers reading this. I just wanted to write "Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake" because it makes me giggle. For those of you who are as lazy as I am, I know you aren't going to click that other link, so I'll just go ahead and let you know that we gave that cake by itself a bottom line of 9 out of 10. Not too shabby.

Next: the tiramisu. Er, no wait. They call it "Chocolate and Coffee Opéra Cake." But it might as well be tiramisu. I'm not a huge fan of tiramisu. It's overrated. So's this stuff. Pffh, "Opéra Cake," how arrogant. Maybe my tastebuds just aren't refined enough to appreciate it fully. Don't get me wrong, it's not awful. But when it's up against two big winners, its flavor is a bit too subtle—a bit too understated. And I'm not terribly into coffee-flavored desserts, anyway. Sonia gives the "tiramisu" 2.5 for being too soft. I'm not sure what she means by that, but I give it a 3 for being...not as good as the other two. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Finally, we come to the Caramel and Chocolate Cake. Sonia says she didn't taste the caramel, and that apparently made her angry. I guess she feels that TJ's jilted her out of some tasty caramel. I agree. I didn't taste the caramel, but I don't really care because the cake was freaking awesome. It was soft and sweet and full of some kind of yummy, creamy something. It wasn't quite a tres leches cake, but it was reminiscent of that level of deliciousness. Certainly, it was drier than a tres leches. By the way, tres leches is my favorite kind of cake. If you've never had a real tres leches cake, drive to the nearest Mexican bakery and buy one...even if it's in another state. Go! Seriously, it's worth it. You won't regret it. Sonia actually made a really good one this past week for Three Kings' Day. Sonia's cake actually overshadows all three of these Sweet Bites (I am writing that right now for the brownie points I'll get with my wife, but it really is true). So all of our scores may be a little low. But anyway, Sonia gives this one a 3.5. She says it would have been higher if she could taste the caramel. I give it a 4.5. I liked it just as much as the Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

And for our final score, I just average out all three of the sub-scores.

Trader Joe's Sweet Bites bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli

What did one triangle ravioli say to the other triangle ravoli?

You have *acute* personality and I like your stuff!

Oh, goodness. My puns may have reached an all-time low. Believe me, that says a lot.

Assuming you're still reading this and not groaning any more, you're probably wondering about this particularly pointy pasta product and just good it may or may be, so let's bid arrivederci to the jokes and get on with the review of Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli.

It's decent enough, I'd say. You'll find this in the fresh pasta section of the store (which for Sandy and me, it's too easy to skip over, which is a shame). Each bags yields a fair amount of the shapely shells for two pretty hungry adults, and cook up as fast as it takes to boil some water. The pasta portion is the yellow-kinda waxy and thin-semolina variety which is nether good nor bad - it's just kinda there to hold its supposed treasure, the butternut squash filling. And that part isn't bad either - it's texturally on par and lightly sweetened with crumbled amaretti biscuits (read: sugar and apricot) while remaining completely dinnertime appropriate. I kinda wish there was a little more than the dark little circle of it that remains throughout the bag-to-pot-to-plate process. Appearancewise, each triangoli is perfunctory shaped, with a roughly equilateral triangle of pasta dough filled with a perfect circle of filling right in the middle, kinda as if IKEA designed them (I still imagine they'd be called Triangoli, except with an umlaut somewhere). Regardless, they're pretty tasty and Sandy and I enjoyed them.

We could've liked them better, though. For one, they taste all exactly the same, which by the last few ones, the savory factor kinda wore off. This could've been remedied by some sort of good sauce to go with them, but the package doesn't really make any great recommendations: butter, olive oil, or "your favorite sauce." Well, Frank's Red Hot wouldn't be a good choice, methinks, and neither would any tomato-based ones, so Sandy and I opted for butter. Not a bad choice, but still pretty plain.

Regardless, for a Monday night dinner, the butternut squash triangoli weren't a bad option. Sandy chomped away on them while finishing up some work-y work nonsense for her job and I deliberately ate each one, slowly and carefully, as I continue to recoup from quadruple wisdom tooth removal. Ten year old me would have loved having nothing but milkshakes for a week...not so much when you're old enough to have a mortgage and emerging bald spot. Anyways, Sandy gave these Italian imports a "three, maybe three 'n a half....okay, three 'n a half" for their squashy pasta ways. I concur but, unlike the pasta itself, round down.

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Shrimp Corn Dogs

This is one of those items that I have to smile about every time I think of it. Not just because it's tasty, but because it's a silly idea. I wonder who came up with the concept, initially. I wonder whether there was some particular task assigned to Trader Joe's Research and Development department that might have read something like this:

"Corn dogs are awesome. Even fake-meat corn dogs are awesome. Your assignment: put different foods on wooden sticks and cover them with cornbread. Report back with your top three new corn dog discoveries. Go!"

The lucky jerk whose job it was to accomplish this task dutifully paraded out of his office with a handful of cheap wooden chopsticks or perhaps popsicle sticks—or maybe he just grabbed a couple of his cubicle-buddy's no. 2 pencils...he strolled down some boulevard, presumably in Massachusetts or Monrovia, CA, approached some random food trucks and plopped various foods on the sticks, then took them back to his "lab," dipped each item in a cornbread batter and then dunked it in a deep fat fryer. As he tasted each one, he taped his thoughts in a little hand-recorder:

"Hmmm...grilled cheese corndog...very yummy, but messy and impractical."

"Carrot corn dog...certainly edible...with a vegetable tempura-quality...but lacks the zing required of corn dogs."

"Doughnut corn dog...promising for carbivores and the health-unconscious...but we'd be sued for negligent homicide or something..."

"Burger corn dog...hrm...if they weren't circular, this might work..."

"Shrimp corn dog...um...yeah...if this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

He pitched the idea to his boss the following day, complete with prototype samples and an experimental predecessor to the sweet and hot chili sauce for dipping. The presentation resulted in promotions, bonuses, and accolades for the aforementioned lucky jerk, and thus, Trader Joe's Shrimp Corn Dogs were born.

Yummerific. The sweet and hot chili dipping sauce isn't hot at all, but other than that, no complaints. Another 4.5 from me.

Sonia says she doesn't like corn dogs. They should be able to deport people for such blasphemy. She's really only a 1st generation American. "Back to Oaxaca, Mexico with you and your misguided family, ma'am...until you learn to appreciate our culture!" She wanted to give them a 3. I told her that was too low. So she said, "Fine. 3.5." She added that there wasn't enough shrimp on the stick. I'll give her that. They should totally go with jumbo shrimp for version 2.0.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.