Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning

It's a little less expensive than I thought to fly from Pittsburgh to Johannesburg, South Africa: starts around $1400, with a couple layovers (in Toronto and Munich), and takes about 24 hours. It's not a trip I'm planning seriously for any time soon (or quite possibly, ever) but if/when I'd ever go, man, someone invite me to a braai, please. Don't know what that is? I didn't until I saw it mentioned on the bag of Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning and looked it up. Basically, it's a South African style cookout/social gathering centered around lots and lots of meat. There's sosatie and boerewors (two new words for me!) along with chicken, seafood, whatever else...that's my kinda thing right there.

Well, apparently these TJ's chips got invited to the party, but to me, the jury's out on whether they really, truly belong or not. There's nothing really wrong with the chips - good, munchy texture, very crispy, almost worth the diet cheat points for that - and, although salty, I like the seasoning mix - lots of different stuff, primarily featuring smoky paprika and garlic - but there's something lost in translation here, I think. In the end, these South African-inspired chippies taste closer to a run-of-the mill straightforward barbeque chip to me, which is kinda boring and not the exotic kick I was looking for.

 I'm wagering this is not the fault of the spice blend itelf, but because it's on a chip, not a big ol'l chunk of carne. There's no real base for the flavor to blast off from. I've been too busy with some other spices and rubs at TJ's, but I *think* I've seen a South African seasoning blend on the shelf there which, if it's anything like this, would be a terrific pickup to rub on some chicken or fish or sausage or anything that can get all juicy on a grill. Instead, here, we're left with these light little dry crisps without much pop or sizzle. I think a little meaty gristle here could go a long, long ways - there's just not enough here for the seasonings to be able to really, fully express themselves. However, if we were to stay in the chip realm, another chip type may fare better - these are dressed up "Ode to Classic Potato Chip" hombres. A ridged or kettle chip would be a firmer base, with perhaps a little more oomph.

I'm not the only one not tooting my vuvuzela about these chips.Sandy's not too much of an ardent enthusiast either. "Ehhh...nothing too special," she stated with a dismissive tune. "I'll eat them but really, they pretty much taste like barbeque chips." Granted, it'd be a pretty darn good BBQ chip, and the price at $2.29 (at least locally) is a perfectly reasonable buy, but we both can't help but be a little bit disappointed here.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Potato Chips with South African Style Seasoning: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins

I know, I know...I get it. There's a case to be made that I shouldn't review gluten-free products, seeing as that I have no gluten sensitivities whatsoever, and haven't tried brands and offerings to really fairly stack Trader Joe's offerings against. See my low score for their GF rice mac 'n cheese - I got a lot of flak from the celiac/sympathizer crowd for that. But, the thing is, even for their relatively small amount of product offering, market a lot of gluten free products, most of them for a good price, and somebody has to review them, right?  Why not me? I'm a complete amateur-hack foodie blogger for the best darn TJ's site on the Interwebz, so if I can't, no one can, and perhaps there's only lonely celiac-sufferer out there, wondering to know where they can get something like an English muffin, and doggone it, if this review helps them, it's worth it.

The obvious comparison for Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins is those famous Thomas fellows that all of us grew up on poking apart with our forks, making a mess on the floor much to our dog's delight and mother's chagrin. That's the only other English muffin out there I can rank TJ's against...and it's not close. They're almost completely different, just happening to share the same name, like this poor guy.

First, the TJ ones are much larger than their Thomas counterparts - at least twice, maybe closer to three times larger. That's an absurd size. Second, there's no forksplitting the TJ's, at least not easily - HELLO THAT"S HALF THE FUN GONE RIGHT THERE. There's no nooks and crannies or even crooks and nannies once cut - it's just silly, kinda sad looking bread circle. And for texture, they feel like lovechild offspring from a biscuit and a piece of cornbread - even after toasting, it's a pretty crumbly mess. "Light texture" it says on the bag - riiiight.  I mean, the taste seems about right, but that's about it.

Sandy and I made some breakfast sandwiches one evening for dinner using these, and by halfway through, I kinda regretted it. There was just too much bread and it wasn't that good - I felt like all I was eating was bread and not eggs and sausage too. Even Sandy agreed on that front. She tried one again a day or two later, this time just toasted with some butter and jam, and said it tasted and felt a little better going down, although both she and I rule out the notion of making English muffin pizzas with these - we both doubt the muffin would hold up.

There's one of these left currently, and I'm thinking that chances are good it'll end up as duck food at the local creek this weekend. I've been trying to avoid carbs anyways for the most part, so for me, this is not a worthy indulgence.  Sandy was slightly more in favor of them than I, giving them a three while noting their inherent dryness. I counter with a two. Perhaps for some, this is a viable alternative (if so, leave a comment so we know!), but if there's no need to have a gluten free diet, there's no need to pick up these up.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gluten Free Dairy Free English Muffins: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken

After all that cookie butter ice cream you've no doubt been cramming down since Nathan's last post, you surely think you oughtta go get a salad, right?

I wish I could say the stomach volume displacement value of Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken was at least some variant of equality, but it's not. There's a lot of promise - beans, cheese, tortillas, spicy chicken, all of which are right up my alley - but in actuality, the spork on the front sticker should've been a key tipoff: this is one salad that can't decide what it is or what it wants to be. Kinda like freshman year, I suppose. It's an okay lunch pick-up, but there's too much that's off to make it worth a regular rotation spot.

Let's count the ways. First, the chicken. The word "flavored" in the title should have been another hint that I whiffed on. The chicken is not barbecued, nor is it, technically, BBQ flavored. Instead, the BBQ flavor comes from a mini bucket of some invented product called "BBQ Vinaigrette." Let's be serious here - have any of you ever encountered the existence of such a product before? There's no such item listed for sale on Amazon, which means, to me, it's not real. It's kinda tangy and BBQy but definitely tastes like watered down sauce, but watered down with vinegar. Okay, but not that great. The ranch dressing is only semi-awful and doesn't add a lot. And the beans? Well, they're mixed in with some corn and diced red pepper, which is okay, but instead of being at least somewhat fresh, it's more of the canned variety, with some sort of goop coating them that makes them taste a little pickled, almost. With the two different dressings and the beans etc, that makes for not one, not two, but three (!) little cups inside that take up a lot of space in both the salad container and your friendly local landfill. Seriously, there's got to be a better way.

On the plus side: Lettuce is fresh and crispy, has that "just chopped" feel to it. The MJ cheese seemed particularly good (though perhaps an overstatement - first cheese I've had in a while) and the tortilla chip strips add a good little crunch. If you happen to like the dressings, a little goes a long way - I barely blipped mine in, gave it a good mix, and still had a couple small pools at the bottom. That helps cut down the more unsavory nutritionals too, of course.

Getting back to that point of "not knowing what it is": it's just a weird mix. If it wants to be a BBQ chicken salad, then put in actual BBQ chicken, some greens, some cheese, maybe a pepper or two, and skip the black beans and corn and whatnot. If you want to keep the beans and corn, nix the BBQ and go for a chipotle ranch dressing. Or maybe even better, just skip both dressings, or maybe just skip this salad altogether. Perhaps I'm being harsh after a long, frustrating day, but I'd prefer more tastiness for something that looked like it held enough promise for me to drop a hard-earned $4.49 on it - I could have gotten a buffalo chicken salad from the work cafe for the same price and been much happier. I'll try to be kind, but in the end, best case scenario to me, it has "meh" stamped all over it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Salad with BBQ Flavored Chicken: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's

It's really hard to look at Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's and not remember that old Saturday Night Live commercial for Colon Blow cereal. RIP Phil Hartman, you're one of the great ones. 

I guess this particular TJ cereal can be filed under "the epitome of adult cereals." It's boring. It's bland. There's no cartoon characters or prizes buried. And perhaps worst of all, it's healthy. 

See...I like cereal a lot. Sandy says I like it too much, but usually I can't hear her protests over my munching through a Jethro-sized mixing bowl. It's a replacement vice for too many other bad eating habits I have, like greasy late night/mornings before work drive thru cravings, or all-out fridge foraging. A good bowl of cereal either late at night or first thing in the morning is tough to beat, and if I can find one I like that's undoubtedly healthy, I'm all for it.

Listen: I tried to like these high fiber O's. Really, I did. But after giving them a good honest try and crunching thru the whole box over the past week or so, I can clearly state that these aren't for me. There's many reasons. First, the texture. Don't think these are just light, little crispy Cheerio knockoffs with some extra fiber magically infused, like I somehow thought they were pre-purchase. Nope, they're heavy, dense concrete doughnuts that give your molars a run for it. Seriously, if a mouse were to train for the discus toss for the Mouse Olympics, one of these O's would be a great choice. Even the last few bites are almost as equally crunchy as the first. 

Also, tastewise, they don't offer much. I don't need a cereal to be all super sugary as long as it otherwise tastes good - I love just a bowl of Cheerios and milk, for instance. There's a slight sweetness to these, but it's all swamped by this taste of condensed sawdust that was strangely reminiscent of one of my least favorite TJ products ever. Must be all that fiber. It's not for me.

For a positive note, though, just a regular sized serving of these Fiberios is enough to satiate a rumbly belly all the way to midafternoon, when I take my usual lunch break. And they do pair well with some almond milk, and I suppose a handful of berries would make a good accompanient. Plus, fiber and protein are good for you, and there's plenty, without any of the side effects SNL alluded to. And the fact I ate the whole box in about a week means they can't have tasted that bad as I said they did....hey, me, stop sounding so responsible!

So Sandy didn't get around to trying these, so it's all me. I'll give a voice to my more juvenile and more adult side. Youth before beauty, so youngyin' first: Blahhh. No likey. One spoon, and that's because I'm being nice. Older me: They're not great, but they're not that bad, so suck it up and eat them, your body will be happier for it, and maybe you should start taking care of it. Four spoons. So I'm right down the middle, what's your take? Share in comments below.

 Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic High Fiber O's: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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I accidentally threw out the box before snapping pictures. Box front picture borrowed from http://danicasdaily.com/a-new-way-to-get-dirty and nutritional info picture being borrowed from http://jensblogawog.blogspot.com/2013/02/review-trader-joes-organic-high-fiber.html. 

 

Trader Joe's Just the Clusters Ginger, Almond & Cashew Granola Cereal

There are certain bites of this cereal that taste like delicious gingersnap cookies with a dusting of cinnamon and spices and a few choice cashews. Other bites taste like pungent, raw ginger root and not much else. The discrepancy between those two types of bites is harsh, and it grates on your taste buds the same way a glob of horseradish might after a few pleasant sips of root beer. 

I'm guessing the bites are inconsistent because there are chunks of actual ginger floating throughout the cereal, but not enough that you get one in every bite. Or, perhaps, certain bites contain only small bits of ginger and others contain large chunks. Whatever the reason, it's difficult to

avoid while eating the cereal since each ingredient is more or less the same beige-ish color. I suppose one could inspect each spoonful meticulously before shoveling it down, but it would take a great deal of time, care, and effort to do so. It's much easier to make the following generalization: The only people who should consider buying this cereal are people who are madly in love with the taste of raw ginger.

I was skeptical when I saw this box on the shelf. Could ginger really work as the centerpiece in a breakfast cereal? The Ardmore, PA Trader Joe's was a madhouse on my last TJ's run, and it provided the kind of full-contact shopping experience I hadn't seen since I braved the hordes of colorful characters at 3rd and La Brea in L.A. There wasn't much time to linger there in the aisle staring up at the cereals, and much like my last review, I made a hasty decision. I'm a fan of certain ginger products: ginger beer, gingersnaps, ginger ice cream—and even ginger wontons. But when it comes to ginger candy or raw ginger root, that's where I draw the line. As a spice, ginger should be used sparingly. It's simply too pungent when it shows up in abundance.

Sonia liked this cereal even less than I did, pointing out that the bites with excessive ginger kind of ruin all the other bites. That stuff lingers. She only gives this breakfast cereal two and a half stars. I think I'll be slightly more lenient and go with three and a half since there's definitely some potential here. I think this could be a really decent cereal if they toned the ginger down a couple notches.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Raspberry Sticks

This was a silly purchase. I was stuck in line at TJ's, and the lady in front of me had an enormous cartload of groceries—a fact I didn't notice until after it was too late to switch lines. I was in the queue for a good three or four minutes just staring at the little table full of goodies next to the checkout. The stuff they have sitting there is pretty slick when it comes to ensnaring unsuspecting victims. My usual strategy involves picking a line with little or no wait and just breezing past them without a glance. But I was stuck. And sure enough, these little guys got me.

Sonia and I rarely eat chocolate, and as I've mentioned before, I'm not really a huge fan of dark chocolate. Plus, in the summertime, you have to keep chocolate in the fridge or it gets melty and messy just sitting on the counter. Our AC units hit the bedroom and living room pretty well, but the kitchen tends to be steamy. Furthermore, for some reason I was thinking these were like crunchy sticks somehow. When I hear the word "stick," I think "crunchy." You know, like a stick from a branch on a tree. But these sticks are gummy, which of course makes them even more slimy, gooey, and sticky in this June heat. I could have just gone ahead and read the label on the product I was buying, but well...woulda, coulda, shoulda. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I wasn't really thinking when I bought these and they were kind of doomed from the start. Popsicles would have been a much wiser purchase.

There's a ridiculous amount of raspberry goo on the inside of these things. And I personally don't feel like this particular dark chocolate blends very well with the sweet raspberry jelly nonsense within it. But on the flip side, I must admit that it does taste like raspberry. Not like super sweet fake Jolly Rancher blue raspberry, and not like actual raspberries fresh off the vine, but maybe exactly halfway between the two. Something like a Chambord-flavored jelly candy if you will, but not as rich. It's not bad, it's just not my thing—though I've had higher quality raspberry cordials that I did enjoy significantly more than these candies. 

Sonia does like dark chocolate, although it's a very infrequent indulgence for her, and when she does eat it, it's in very small amounts. She's less than enthused about these candies as well. She's also not a huge fan of raspberry flavored candy. This is one of those instances where our take on a product might be completely different from someone who loves dark chocolate and raspberry candy, so we invite you to share your thoughts in the comments below. I give these "sticks" two and a half stars. Sonia's gonna go with three on this one.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10

Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices

Man, there's some times when I begin to feel old.

I'm not just talking about the ever-emerging bald spot, or the semi-regular chiropractic appointments. it's the other, smaller kinda stuff. Like the extra stiffness in my ankles when I wake up. Like lusting after low interest rates and not the newest gizmo I wouldn't know what to do with anyways. Or realizing there is such a thing as "I'm playing Pearl Jam too loud" when all by myself in the car or wishing the women at the bar (on the few occasions I go out) would use their "inside voice." Now, I won't reveal how old I actually am, because if I did, probably half of you out there would want to reach through whatever you're screen you're staring at right now and smack the stuff outta me, and rightfully so, and let's keep this friendly.

I bring this up because I seem old (to myself, at least), while really, I'm not. Kinda like these Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices. They seem like old, crusty, dried up mummified remains of apples, while really, of course, they're not. Just freeze dried, however that works.

Hate to bring up a negative first, as usually that's not the way I roll, but it seems appropriate. What makes them seem old to me is the texture of them. There's a little crispiness, yeah, but there's a compressed Styrofoam quality to them that honestly reminds me of stale cereal. Of course, there's not too much of another way a dehydrated apple slice could feel, so take that for what little it's worth.

I will admit, I was pretty surprised with the taste. Like a good Fuji apple, it's a strong, vibrant flavor - tart, almost bordering on sour except for a little tinge of sweetness. Honestly, I didn't expect that for something that, based solely on appearance, seems like a dried up shell of the real deal. It's kinda like those TJ crispy oranges in that regard. But like those oranges, the complete lack of any juiciness kinda left me wanting the real deal.

I'm an apple-lovin' guy who regularly eats at least two a day, so while I appreciate what Trader Joe's is trying to pull off here, they just don't completely do it for me. This all sounds so negative, and I don't mean to be (maybe it's me being cranky - getting old again!), so let's hit some rapid-fire positives here: Great work desk stash-a-snack. Satisfies crunchy, sweet, candy cravings in healthy way. Toddler loved them. Easy to eat just a few, then put back down for later - good for snacking, but not feeding-frenzy trigger worthy. Lots of Vitamin C, less chance of scurvy. Priced okay at $3 a bag.

Sandy agrees with much of the above, adding that she wonders if they'd be good with oatmeal. Merits an experiment, I suppose, although I'm not too inclined one way or another to pick them again or not. Kinda one of those "If they fall in my cart, or the kiddo insists, I won't be upset" kinda deals. That means a middling score from us both.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi

Skipping right to the obvious question: no, there's neither 12 types of mushrooms in Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi, nor are there 12 mushrooms per mochi. Those both would be records. There's just two types of mushrooms involved, with the equivalent of about maybe one to one and a half mushrooms per piece. Are there even 12 kinds of mushrooms that are edible for us homo sapiens? I don't even know.

Nah, if you haven't guessed it by now, the 12 refers to the number of mochi (mochi? mochis? mochies?) in the box. My only previous experience with mochi have been of the ice cream variety, which are honestly a little bit weird to me. That's not meant in a judgmental way. Wiggily, doughy-skinned ice cream is a little bit of an odd concept for the classic suburban-raised American palette, but it doesn't mean I can't enjoy them. Regardless, these mochi were my first foray into non-desserty mochi (I didn't even know such a thing existed), and though I'll admit my hesitancy, there's a good part of me that was fairly intrigued.

Cooking them was a cinch that took just a couple minutes - brown in some oil, dump a little water on and cover. Nothing new if you've heated up frozen potstickers before, of which TJ's has some decent varieties. The dough tastes a lot like those - there to serve the purpose of holding in the filling and not stand out. But here's a difference, probably due to the size and shape: whereas smaller dumplings more or less keep intact, these mochi practically explode and gush all over the place once your teeth pierce the skin. Not sure of the right mouthfeel-related term to describe, but man, the first one was a bit much, but I was used to it by the time I ate my sixth and last one.

As far as taste, I'm not impressed or dismayed. They're very much a meh product, for me at least. The filling tasted a lot like the Trader Ming Stir Fried Vegetable Rolls that were fairly disappointing when we gave them a test drive. The mishmash mushrooms with carrots and onions and whatnot was salty, a little soy-saucey, and honestly not that terrific. Important note: there's oyster sauce in the filling, so despite mostly being a fungi, the mochi couldn't help being a little shellfish. Not vegetarian. Not that they taste all that oystery, just mushroomy and oniony.


Sandy, who thinks all mushrooms are really Goombas out to get her, could not be interested any less in trying these, and well, I was not going to plead a toddler to try them, either, so I made them for dinner on a night they both were out, and I shared them with Jack, the Chinese exchange student and mushroom aficionado who lives with us. "Pretty good," he said. "I thought they'd be sweeter, but they're not bad." Not sure how a sweeter taste would work, but, well, different flavor palettes I guess. He gave them a 3.5. I'd be open to giving them another try, but for now at least, I can't go higher than a 2.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 12 Mushroom Mochi: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Crème Fraîche

I was entirely unfamiliar with crème fraîche (krem fresh) until I was enlightened by Wikipedia and this recent Trader Joe's purchase. It's apparently somewhere between cream cheese and sour cream—not unlike unflavored Greek yogurt, but significantly more fattening. I'd also like to go out on a limb and say that it's slightly more in the direction of sour cream in terms of flavor, because it tastes better with the same types of foods that you'd eat with sour cream. Sonia tried it with biscuits and jelly and was thoroughly disappointed. It's apparently more suited for consumption with salty and savory foods, rather than sweets. So a good rule of thumb is that if you'd consider eating a food with sour cream, you could consider eating that same food with crème fraîche. But be warned: it's much thicker than sour cream.

We had it with Trader Joe's Veggie Chili, some cheese, and some corn chips. It was delicious that way, although it was difficult to distribute the crème throughout the mixture. It kept occurring to me that we might as well be dumping lumps of lard into our chili. It makes everything richer, thicker, and more indulgent, but I'm not sure that it enhances the flavor enough to make all the extra fat worth it. I think I'd just prefer sour cream in most cases. And as we've discussed before, plain yogurt makes a great substitute for sour cream, in case you want even less fat.

This is one of those rare cases in which I have no frame of reference to judge TJ's product against other brands' offerings. So if I'm harsh with my score, you can assume I'm just not a crème fraîche kinda guy. It's certainly not that I'm assuming that TJ's version is worse than others. In fact, kudos to Trader Joe's for making international-type products like this accessible for relatively low cost. However, Sonia has had crème fraîche before, and she thinks that the other times she's had it, it was fluffier and lighter than in this case. And while that may have to do with the way it was prepared, she was still a bit disappointed with the consistency of this product. But on the other hand, she's in love with all things European, particularly French, and she liked the taste enough to give it a 3.5. I like to think of myself as cultured, worldly, and open to new things, but when products like this come along, I realize I'm just a sour cream-loving 'Merican boy. If I'm dining out and I order a dish that happens to have crème fraîche in it, then so be it. But I can't feature myself purchasing this $3.49 product ever again...from TJ's or anyone else. 2.5 stars from me.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sukiyaki

Although some might argue that it's not fair to compare a pre-packaged frozen dish purchased at a grocery store to similar food served in a restaurant, I think there comes a time when one should go ahead and make that comparison. In particular, when the price tag of a pre-packaged frozen food item starts getting up into the range of what you'd pay while dining out, then I say compare away. This bag of sukiyaki was $6.99, and the portion size was just about what one might expect from a restaurant. Sure, it was enough dinner for both Sonia and I, but most entrees we buy at restaurants turn into two meals for us as well. And while you might pay an extra dollar or two for this type of thing at a Japanese restaurant, you're also having it prepared and served by someone else, and there are usually some extra bells and whistles like rice or miso soup on the side.

So the question I'm asking myself is, "Was it restaurant quality?" 

Yes and no.

First, I'll start off with something positive: the sauce. The sauce was amazing. Excellent. Delicious. It was savory, thick, rich, and slightly sweet. Containing real sake rice wine and mirin, it was bursting with flavor. I've never had anything quite like it. The dish wasn't spicy at all, but I didn't find myself wanting to dump sriracha all over it like I usually do with non-spicy Asian foods. I don't think a bit of sriracha would have ruined it, but I didn't want to upset the flavor of this amazing sauce. It permeated all of the ingredients and added to their natural tastes. The veggies were plentiful and had nice textures. There were big pieces of carrots, napa cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, and something called burdock. 

The noodles were made of mung bean flour. They were flat, long, and clear. I've had similar noodles in Asian dishes before, and each time I have them, I'm surprised how chewy they are. I usually wind up gnawing on them for a bit before I get so frustrated that I simply swallow and wind up taking down a much longer strand of noodle than I intended to. Surprisingly, there wasn't a lack of meat—one of the more common problems we've found with TJ's frozen food bags. The worst part was that the beef was much more chewy than the noodles. It was fatty, too. There were big chunks of white fat all through the meat, and it was quite rubbery. In this case, I would have preferred tofu chunks—or at least very lean beef. The meat tasted fine, especially once it soaked up all that yummy sauce. It was just too chewy. I ate the food with chopsticks, and I found myself attempting to bite a piece of meat in half with my teeth while yanking on one end with the sticks a couple times. As I stretched and pulled on the beef, sauce dribbled down my chin, and I even lost my grip on the chopsticks at one point—allowing the slab of meat to dangle from my lips like a dog running off with a piece of raw bacon. It almost ruined the experience for me. Almost.

But I'll be danged if that's not some deeeelicious sauce. I give this product 3 stars. It would have been much higher had the meat and noodles not been so rubbery. Sonia gives it 3 stars as well for the same reasons. She also thinks there are too many onions in the mixture. I guess I'm just a bit more into onions than she is, because I disagree on that point. But double 3's it is.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's 5 Cheese Frusta

Remember that longlost album Nathan referred to a long time ago, TJ's and DJs? I was cleaning out the attic the other day and came across the B-sides mix and found this rare gem of a song which I'd like to share. Apparently through some power of temporal paradoxes and balls of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, even though this is an old, old song, it refers to a brand new Trader Joe's product, Trader Giotto's 5 Cheese Frusta. Ladies and gentlemen, without any further adieu, here's our take on the Young MC classic, called "Frusta Move":

This here's a pie from our guy Giotto
Delivering flavor? Yeah, that's his motto
His name's on it means tastebud lotto
Satisfaction is nearly auto
Okay busta let's talk frusta
Five cheeses on it? I say "me gusta"
Edges folded up like a flat pizza taco
Makes it more handy to go on a walk-o
Need some munchin' or a luncheon
But no need for a high class function?
If you get ten minutes and an oven
Then get ready for some pizza lovin'
It's so easy, gets so cheesy
All melted up but not too greasy
If you want a pizza with kinda a groove
Don't just sit there, frusta move!

Oh hey, just frusta move!

If you're fishin' on a mission
To find the best bite you can be dishin'
Just keep on walking down the frozen aisle
Cuz this ain't it by a mile
Taste's not poppin', needs a toppin'
Cheese is okay but it's best for proppin'
All five kinda melt into a single
Taste got all tangled in the mingle
It's alright for a small bite
Don't hate me, just being' forthright
There's some worse ways to spend two bucks
But this is one pie that sure ain't deluxe
Crust gets crunchy, makes a munchie
Eating this sure beats getting punchy
Disagree and think my rhyme's not smooth?
Not a problem, hey, frusta move!

If you want, you got it, you want it, hey baby you got it - Frusta move!

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's 5 Cheese Frusta: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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Pictures courtesy of TraderJoes.com. No, we're not affiliated, but our new camera ate the pics I snapped. Please, Big Joe, don't be mad, we like you.

Trader Joe's Sliced Jalapeño Yogurt Cheese

So, I've taken a look at what we've reviewed over this past month, and realized, probably without meaning to be, both Nathan and I have been reviewing some pretty sly products. What do I mean? Well, one thing that TJ's excels at is some crazy, out-in-the-open combo products, like these delicious treats. But they're also pretty good at making little, teeny tiny twists to a lot of otherwise normal products, whether they're to fit a specific dietary need or just to sound a little fancy. And look at we've focused on in just these past few weeks: a gluten-free pasta twist, a peanut butter facsimile that isn't made of peanuts, non-dairy milk, buffalo (not beef) burgers, sausage pizza without "real" sausage, and an unusually crusted pizza. Kinda makes me wonder how this or this snuck in.

Anyways, it's a short month, and let's wrap it up right with some Trader Joe's Sliced Jalapeño Yogurt Cheese. It's lactose-free (though certainly not dairy-free cheese). A commenter on the aforementioned almond milk review started an interesting conversation about "lactose intolerant" folks being the genetic norm for our species while "lactose persistence" is actually a mutation - whether or not that's actually scientifically accurate, I have no idea. I just know I'm one of the (ab)normal humans with no lactose issues whatsoever, but this cheese looked like a potential interesting break from the norm, hence the purchase.

Ehhhhh....it's alright. I preface any further comments by first stating that for those who are lactose intolerant and want a semi-spicy cheese option, it's not a bad one. Otherwise, it's nothing all that special. The slices are very thick, and get all clammy and stuck together in the package - thank goodness for the little pieces of paper. It's kinda tough to really classify what type of cheese it is - it's not cheddar or provolone or gouda or mozzarella or asiago or limburger or...okay, I'm getting silly. I'd say it's kinda like a cross between muenster and American, except milder and a tad bit creamier, and less distinctive tastewise. Honestly, it really doesn't taste like a whole lot aside from the jalapeños, and even those take a bit to kick in. After first bite, I scanned the ingredients, read "red and green peppers," and thought maybe the word "bell" was erroneously admitted. When it gets around to it, the peppers do give a fair amount of spicy heat, but nothing too much more than a regular ol' pepper jack.

 As a plus, the melty quotient for this cheese is very, very high. I made a grilled cheese with it, and within a minute or two, the cheese got all melted and splashed over the inside of the bread, making a nice, warm, bite-inviting sammich. But melting it seemed to have it lose even more flavor - maybe it was just my bread choice (whole grain something or other), but though I was cognizant of the fact I was eating cheese and getting some strings caught in my beard, I can't say I tasted it all that much either, except for a little poke of heat from a pepper here or there.

It's nothing too special, and if lactose isn't an issue, it's not worth the extra buck ($4.49ish for a 12 oz pack, not a bad deal) versus the regular sliced pepper jack. I'll be happy enough finishing the package in due time, but it's probably not going to be a repeat purchase.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sliced Jalapeño Yogurt Cheese: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Meatless Italian Style Sausage & Cheese Flatbread

So, I'm not exactly a trendsetter kinda guy, if you haven't noticed. But, I'd like to be one. Sort of. For instance, one of my very covert goals for this blog has been to try and enter the phrase "chocolate gum theory" into the parlance of our times. I mean, it makes sense, to me, at least. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go click that link, it'll explain it. Just...think about dropping into a conversation every once in a while, will ya?

But one way I just might have been a key force in bringing in some new trend: flatbread pizza, or just flatbreads, or Flatizzas, or whatever silly (or in the case of Flatizza, absolutely stupid) name you want to slap on them. You see, a few years back I reviewed Trader Joe's Lavash, and specifically mentioned how delicious they were to use as a pizza crust. I feel like I stumbled across that idea by happenstance, by some remnant shred of bachelor laziness that laid dormant until that fateful purchase.

Okay, perhaps you're still not convinced. That's fine. But I am, thanks to Trader Joe's Meatless Italian Style Sausage & Cheese Flatbread. I mean, is it absolutely crazy idea that "Big Joe" read that same lavash post, knew about my outspoken displeasure of the discontinuation of the soy chorizo (bring that back already!), knew about my appreciation of most TJ fake meat products, and came up with this particular item to try and get me off his back? Is it?

Well...if all that is true, he'll need to do a little better next time. I mean, this isn't a horrible pizza/flatbread/flapizza/piflatbrezzad/whatever at all. The "sausage" is a convincing enough knockoff of the real deal to fool both our toddler, who hates meat, and the teenaged Chinese exchange student who lives with us, who loves meat. It's got the right bite and texture and overall flavor, and to TJ's credit, there's a lot of it. The little roasted red peppers and tomatoes make a nice addition, though I wish there more of them. And even though we could've baked it longer, the flatbread crust got reasonably crispy enough, while the cheese was plenty stringy and gooey, much to our toddler's delight.

It's just...the end result tasted too much like an average thin crust freezer pizza. It just lacked something, anything, to go to the next level, like even a little red pepper flakeage, or whatever made another one of their pizzas so darn good. If I weren't so bent on preserving the last few drops of the world's best hot sauce I have readily on hand, I would've slathered that all over the place, just so my dinner would have a little flavor. It's just fairly nondescript as is, and I know TJ's is capable of better.  C'mon, TJ's, can't you just...TJ it up a little? Please?

Sandy kinda agreed, while noting that she enjoyed the salchicha falsa, she wishes the pizza was a little bigger, so it'd be more servings for the four bucks or so for the pizza. It was kinda small overall, but piled reasonably high with toppings, so perhaps it was a bit of a trade-off. "Kinda average at best," she said. Agreed. She defines average as a 3, while I say average means a 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Meatless Italian Style Sausage & Cheese Flatbread: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Ruggedly Adventuresome Cowboy Bark

At last.

With a slight sigh, Cowboy Joe slumps down on the edge of his porch, his tired legs dangling over the edge. It's a good tired, the tired that means a good, hard day's work has been done, and done well, and now it's time for campfires and cheap beer or whatever it is that cowboys do on their downtime. It's well deserved, and if one were to need proof, just look at the bottom of his boots.

Or, more specifically, look at the mud there, caked on deep, like dark chocolate caught in the treads on the soles. It's thick and dried and crunchy, and carries little remnants from Cowboy Joe's day, and before he can go inside to wash up, he must scrape it off his boots. That makes Mrs. Cowboy Joe happy, and don't you dare make her otherwise.

Cowboy Joe takes a moment to look at what all that chocolatey mud collected. First, there's this toffee. Toffee. What a silly thing he had never heard of. When his slightly crazy mother-in-law asked him what he wanted for Christmas, and he replied "Tobacco and coffee", well, she must have seen this "toffee" concoction and thought it was some swell combination of the two. Or course, it's not even close, and he isn't sure it's something a real cowboy would admit to eating (like salsa from New York City), but still, it tasted alright and was secretly upset when he dropped some trying to hide it quick from his cowboy friends. They never noticed, but it got all up on his boots.

Next, broken pretzels. That morning he had some fence-mendin' to do on Pretzel Prairie, named after all the pretzel plants there, of course. Fortunately there's enough pretzel rods and grids laying around to make a respectable fence there, but all these other plants just can't help but get all trampled underfoot there.

And then, Joe-Joe rocks, as he likes to call them. There was a stray calf that ran up Cookie Mountain, which Cowboy Joe called "Joe-Joe's mountain" when he was just a young whippersnapper. It smells faintly of offbrand semi-generic sandwich cookies (hence the name), which isn't a bad thing by any stretch. As he climbed, bits and chunks of the mountain rocks got trapped in the mud on his boots and stuck on deep, but he was able to rescue the calf and place her back in her safely fenced in pasture at Pretzel Prairie.

Then, there's the nuts. He never really knows how those get there, and they're too small to tell one from the other. It could be from the short siesta he took over at Peanut Pond, or maybe from when he had to wrestle his cowboy hat back from one of those darn almondolopes who took off with it. He's not really sure, but sometimes, things go a little, well, nuts around these parts, and he's just glad to keep it all under control. 

He ponders all this as he scrapes that dried up mud off his boots. The shards break off in different sized pieces, some big, some tiny, some just little specks, into a pile, and, as is his custom, when no one is sure to be looking, Cowboy reaches down, grabs a handful, and shoves it in his mouth. With some bites his teeth struggle to easily to chomp their way through, and it seems an odd custom, but he does this to know one thing: to know what his day tasted like.

Off in the distance, a dog barks. With a satisfied smile, Cowboy Joe echos back the refrain.

-----------------------------------------

If this story isn't true, I have no idea why Trader Joe's would name this "Cowboy Bark." My only other theory is they didn't want their other "cowboy product" to be a lone ranger. Just like the story above, the actual Cowboy Bark is kinda jumbled, nonsensical, and questionably good at best just because it's so....not well planned. There's potential, but just not as it is. There's nothing overly wrong nor overly right about it. Sandy agrees, giving it a "two...maybe three at best." She'll probably say the same about this review when she reads it. I'm not all that lassoed in by this, either, and for the nearly $4 for the small bag, there's plenty of other goodies I'd rather get at TJ's anyways.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ruggedly Adventuresome Cowboy Bark: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons

Toddlers. Yeeeahhh.

There was a time, several months ago, that as Baby M (from now on, we're just gonna call her M) was beginning to eat regular food, she'd inhale everything in sight. There was little to no persuasion involved. I mean, sure, she had her favorites like frozen waffles and whatnot. It was awesome, and after seeing some of the pickiness of her older cousins, I thought, hey, just maaaaybe we dodged a bullet.

Ha. Hahahaha. Nope.

These days, if it's not cheese, a cheap carb, or some type of fruit, good luck. We can occasionally get some fake chicken in her. Some dinners are a downright disaster with her. I'm scared she may be developing her own set of "food rules" like her mama has....is that kind of stuff genetic?

That's why both Sandy and I were a little bit surprised a few weeks back when we went shopping at TJ's. The sample that day was these Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons. M loved them. I mean...wow. She gulped down the couple bites and spent the rest of the excursion earnestly, desperately, making the "more" and "please" sign, so we felt inclined to make the purchase for the three or four bucks for the box.

Naturally, when we finally made them the other night, she couldn't be interested less in them. Like I said, toddlers.

As for Sandy and I, well, they're okay. I'd suspect the rangoons would be much better fried than baked. The crownish top parts crisped up fairly well, though, in our oven, as did the rest of the wrapper despite our lack of the recommended parchment paper. A little cooking spray more or less did the trick.

It's the innards that are a little, well, iffy to me. The dominant flavor by far is the cream cheese filling. It's really sweet, much like what one would expect from a cheese rangoon (which are not terribly high on my list of preferred Chinese takeout cuisine). So, fairly typical so far, The edamame mixed in is mishmash of some whole and some squishy ones, kinda as if were a soybean paintball, and helps fill it all out a little bit. That "hint" of wasabi? It's more like a "whisper of the slightest suggestion, not meant to inconvenience anyone." I mean, it's just not really there. I looked at the ingredients and wasabi powder is listed last, so obviously it wasn't much of a priority.

So, yeah, they're okay. The rangoons made an decent-enough complement to our wonton/sweet-and-sour soup and rice dinner. We could buy them again and I wouldn't care. We could never buy them again and I wouldn't care. If they were marketed at Trader Ming vs Trader Joe, then maybe I'd hold them in sightly higher regard, mostly because I miss that dude. As it is, I think a 6 is more than fair. M is unavailable for comment.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Edamame Rangoons: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Triple Ginger Snaps

Since it's December and Turkey Day has now passed, it's officially time to start enjoying the Christmas season and to look forward to all the goodies ahead. That's not to discount Thanksgiving at all - quite the opposite actually - I'm just a one-holiday-at-a-time kinda guy. I love the Christmas season for so many reasons, but most pertinently to this post, the cookies. And I must say this: this is entirely because of my mother, who each and every year, literally pours her heart and soul into making batch upon batch upon batch upon batch of dozens of different cookie types. Chocolate mint? Check. Anise seed? Check. Jelly thumbprints? Candy cane? Cranberry lemon creme? Homemade biscotti in dazzling arrays of flavors? Yes, yes, and yes, and yes to so many more. She will not settle for anyone placing his/her foot in her house without an absolute abundance of at least nine of their favorite ten varieties of cookies ready for mass consumption on a whim's notice. It's absurdly delicious and so, so appreciated, more than what I can put words to. Now that's something to be thankful for and eager about at the same time, so, yeah, it's all timely here.

Naturally, it's pretty unfair to hold some store-bought confectionery trinkets up to this measure. Regardless, in their own way, Trader Joe's this time of year shines, with some of their best seasonal work. And it's never a bad idea to take something so-so (which the Triple Ginger Snaps are certainly much better than) and coat it in dark chocolate just to see what will happen - sometimes it's absolutely transformative.

Sadly, the Dark Chocolate Triple Ginger Snaps are also a transformative experience, but that's not meant in glowing terms. Changes and twists aren't always good, and here's an example. You might think that this product is simply one of the regular ginger snaps coated in dark chocolate, but while that's technically true, I s'pose, it doesn't exactly tell the story. There's something about the dark chocolate that robs the ginger snap of its two main alluring qualities. First, in quite literal terms, it sugarcoats the balance-yet-spicy ginger bite from the snaps. It's too smooth, too unbalanced, too much chocolate and not enough ginger. I know how good those ginger snaps can taste - I want to taste them! And I want them to crunch the way their naked forefathers did. That's the second thing. My presumption is that in the non-choc'ed-up ones, the crystallized ginger adds slight bit of stiff occasional chewiness to an otherwise tough, crunchy cookie that works so, so well. That all gets lost with these guys, and so they're texturally pretty boring.

Other than that, well, they're a decent enough cookie. I mean, my arm didn't have to be twisted to eat them. But the sleeve of maybe about twenty of them lasted around the house for almost two weeks, so my tastebuds weren't exactly clamoring for them, either. Nor were Sandy's, who noted much of the above, shrugged, and gave 'em a three. That sounds just about right to me as well. They could worth a pickup for the office holiday lunch potluck - for about four bucks a box, you could do worse - but they certainly do not belong at the centerpiece of any holiday cookie spread. Don't believe me? That's fine. Just ask my mom.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Triple Ginger Snaps: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries and Pumpkin Seeds

Well, hello friends. In case you haven't noticed, Sandy and I have been pretty busy lately, so I've been a wee bit negligent in my posting duties as of late. I could go into all the reasons why...packing, double closings, moving, painting, two out of town weddings, unpacking, new shift/promotion at work, a toddler who's learning to walk....the list goes on. I'll just take the cue from Dr Evil and move on. Just thanks to Nathan and Sonia for shaking off their pumpkin-induced haziness every now and again to keep this up and running.

Fortunately, we have found time every once in a while to eat, and have found some good stuff in the meantime. On the same late night, blog-writer card pullin' trip in Salt Lake City (complete with customers in lingerie! - apparently this is why - semi-NSFW) we found the Cookie and Cocoa Swirl, we found these Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries & Pumpkin Seeds. Unfortunately, we haven't spotted them yet back in the 'burgh, so this is a wee bit from memory, but I think it'll be accurate enough.

These were a mixed bags of sorts, fairly literally. Let me explain. Most, if not all, of the ones I consumed tasted pretty salty, which if I'm noticing it, that's saying something. Sandy said hers weren't at all and instead were actually sweet, especially the bites with cranberries. Maybe I was just breathing in more of the air as we munched these driving around Antelope Island State Park. I don't know. The saltiness didn't catch on 'til a few chips in, but once I did, my satisfaction level with them began declining kinda sharply.  Other than that, they were a decently okay munchie snackie. The pumpkin seeds didn't add that much in either texture or taste, as they were unshelled, understandably, I guess. Imagine a basic multigrain pita chip, with its overall multilayer crispiness and crunchiness, with an occasional cranberry tossed in, and that was about it.

The inclusion of the cranberries were a little problematic, though. Most pita chips go well with any type of hummus or salsa or whatever kind of dip. Because of the berries, these begged for something a little different, and for whatever reason, cream cheese came to mind. Perhaps to be all seasonal and whatnot, pumpkin cream cheese? Maybe. But the thought of snacking, bag of chips in one hand, block of cream cheese in another is just so unappetizing to me that I just ate them straight and tried to not dwell too hard on potential condiment sidekick options.

Well, whatever. They made an okay enough of a snack for driving around a big stinky lake staring at buffalo while M (now that she's walking, she's not Baby M anymore!) alternately snoozed and smeared a blueberry/fruit sauce pouch snack literally all over her head and car seat. Kids these days....Sandy liked 'em enough to go with a four. That's too rich for my blood. I'm going 2.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Pita Crisps with Cranberries and Pumpkin Seeds: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons    

Trader Joe's Scary Sugar Cookies

I was once again ensnared by clever, festive packaging at the Trader Joe's checkout display. Also, this review is a desperate attempt to keep my promise to stay away from pumpkin products for a bit. Halloween theme? Yes. Pumpkin? No.

Not to be confused with Halloween Joe-Joe's, these terrifying cookies are shaped like bats, ghosts, and...well, pumpkins. But the pumpkins aren't pumpkin-flavored, they're just pumpkin-shaped, so this still doesn't count as a pumpkin product.

But let's get down to the review, shall we? We have fairly run-of-the-mill sugar cookies here. They aren't particularly bad for you compared to other desserts, but there's nothing very special about them either. I'd say these are on par with every other store-brand sugar cookies I've ever had. They aren't exceptionally rich or buttery, and they don't have any special zing: no fruit-juice sweeteners, no cookie butter or cocoa swirl filling. They're just sugar cookies. And not even particularly good ones.

The bats have a hint of chocolate flavoring. They were my least favorite. I couldn't really tell a difference between the ghosts and the pumpkins. They were all a shade on the bland side. Each frightening cookie has a couple dabs of icing for eyes, mouth, etc. But the icing adds virtually nothing to the flavor of the cookies, although I do wish there were more of it, because it would have added a welcome variation in texture and made them slightly less boring. 

If it sounds like I'm being critical, it's because I want TJ's to go above and beyond any other grocery store, because I know they can, and they routinely do. Most people, especially folks who might be new to Trader Joe's probably won't be so disappointed with these cookies, because honestly, they're not bad. They're soft enough, sweet enough, and spooky enough for any average seasonal dessert food. But in the end, I just want more for my money. If I wanted to pay $4 for painfully average sugar cookies, I would have gone to Giant or Ralph's.

I give these scary cookies 2.5 stars. Sonia gives them 3 stars, stating that their taste is fine, but that they're too crumbly.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.