Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips

I like how certain types of food can remind one of particular times or places, Whether it's a slice of good pizza that makes you think of that place in Brooklyn or Chicago, a good crab cake that brings to mind Baltimore, or for me, Ramen noodles (or anything like them on the rare occasions I still eat them) reminding me of malnourished collegiate days gone by, it's just a cool thing that food easily does to tie things together and connect them.

Whenever I have anything with plantains, I think immediately of my trip back in '03 to the dry coastal region of Peru for a college missions trip. Literally every morning we had fried plantains for breakfast (along with healthy doses of Inca Kola, which if you're not familiar with it, looks like Mountain Dew and tastes like Bazooka Joe), which you think would get old but surprisingly didn't. I loved it, and I've tried and failed miserably several times since to make them Peruvian style at home. Still, when I do, I like to think of the week I spent getting my butt handed to me by a bunch of 10-year old futbolistos on the hard soccer courts and teaching them all sorts of English words, up to and including "poop."

Anyways, when I saw a tall bag of Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips for $1.69, I figured they were worth a munch and crunch. I knew they wouldn't replace my long-gone Peruvian pleasures (after all, those were more plank-like while these are chips), but hey, you do what you can. And you know what? They're pretty decent. If you're not familiar with plantains, think of them as kinda starchier, semi-potatoey bananas. That's about the best explanation I got. The texture of them still comes across well even after being fried in sunflower oil - think banana chips but less waxy with a softer crunch, like if they got crossed with a ruffled potato chip. Tastewise, they're more or less on the money. The chips definitely taste a little roasty, a little nutty, a little earthy, and also a little saltier then I'd think by glancing at the nutritional rundown. And really, just a regular handful of them go a long ways towards satisfying a rumbly in the tumbly. I've had other plantain chips that seemed more potato chip like than these guys, so I guess the TJ plantains are a little truer than most, which I appreciate.

Sandy's not quite as enamored with them as I am. She took a small handful and chomped them down, but afterwards said something to the effect of general indifference towards them. "I mean, I'd eat them if they were around, but give me a choice between these and potato chips, I'd take the regular chips," she said. She's going with a three. Me? I like them, they make a great on-the-sly office cubicle snack (especially if you work in an office with at least one rampant lunch thief, like my workplace*), and I'll give them extra credit for the lemur on the package and the fact that these were made in Peru. It's probably a notch or two high, but dangit, these get a 4.5 from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Someone seriously stole my homemade chili for which my niece gave me the mix for my Christmas present. Seriously, wtf? I'll take the high road and assume they needed food more than I do, but still, I think they should get one of these.

Trader Ming's Chicken & Vegetable Wonton Soup

This wonton soup isn't quite up to par with wonton from a good Chinese restaurant. It's certainly not bad, though. Again, we're talking about something that's ready in minutes in the microwave, and since there are very few other frozen grocery store versions of this type of dish, we wind up comparing it with restaurant food—which, of course, gives the Trader Joe's product a distinct disadvantage. Poor TJ's.

But quite often, their frozen dishes somehow find themselves in the same league as restaurant-quality foods. This happy little bowl of Asian soup is definitely much better than something I'd expect from a frozen microwave dish, but it's not quite as good as soup I'd expect from the local Chinese place (the good local Chinese place, not the sketchy place on the corner that's been shut down for selling cat-meat).

The wontons were actually the best part of this stuff. I can tell there's actually some chicken in the dumplings, and I've no complaints about the dough. The broth is what you'd expect - probably the hardest aspect of the soup to screw up: it's salty and a little miso-esque. What I thought fell a little short of the mark were the vegetables. They simply tasted like they had recently been frozen...which of course, they had, but because we know TJ's can do the impossible, we want them to do it all of the time. The veggies certainly weren't bad, but they just didn't taste fresh to me. Perhaps a slightly different array of greens would allow its recent frozenness to be masked a bit more by the salty broth and microwave magic. It seems to me that it's a bit difficult to mask an unfresh pod of peas. They're sooo tasty when they're fresh...and just so...mediocre when they're not.

Sonia gives it a 3. I'm torn between a 3 and a 3.5. But I think I'll go with a 3.5, just because TJ's used the name "Trader Ming" and not just plain old "Trader Joe." I like it when they use those unique ethnic names. They should use them more often.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Spanakopita

You know, I was planning to start this off by going off on some tangent about Greek food festivals here in and around the 'burgh (there's one pretty much every week in the spring and summer, which is awesome) but then I looked up what the word "spanakopita" means in Greek. I'm so disappointed. There's a part of me that gets excited when I find out that a food name like "burrito" can be translated as "little donkey" or, my favorite, that "gordita" can be taken as "fat little girl." Now I know that Greece has a rich tradition of mythology and also I've watched enough Popeye cartoons to know what spinach can do for a guy, so, really, I was hopeful. I figured it meant something like "Zeus vitamins" or "favored munchie of Apollo." Heck, I'd even settle for "Minotaur vegetarian option." But no, it means nothing like that . Spanáki (spinach) + pítta (pie) = spanakopita (spinach pie). While being straightforward, it's also pretty lame. Eh well. Regardless of its pitiful nomenclature, spanakopita is one pretty tasty treat that Sandy and I routinely enjoy at the aforementioned Greek food fests so when we saw that Trader Joe's offered a box that just might get us through the lean winter months, we figured it was worth a shot.

Well, it's nothing like your yiayia's homemade batch, but for what it is, Trader Joe's Spanakopita is decent enough. $3.99 gets you a box of a dozen good-sized triangles that bake up in the oven. Whoever invented the idea of phyllo is a genius. Though so inefficient as dough needing layers upon layers, the phyllo on those bake and brown up real nice, keeping crispy in spots it needs to be crispy, and a little mushily saturated when it comes in contact with the spinach filling. The spinich filling works alright, too. It's strangely reminiscent of my mom's homemade spinach soufflé (which, believe it or not, was a favorite dish of mine growing up) as there's a lot of chopped up spinach with some feta and ricotta (more ricotta than feta, which is a minus) with a pinch of onion and whatever Greek spices. It seems like there's an appropriate amount per wedge, too, so all in all, they're pretty decent for the bake-from-a-box variety.

That's not to say they'll be joining our pantheon, though. First, there's the relative abundance of ricotta versus the pittance of feta. I know you want to keep it cheap, Trader Joe, but c'mon now. There's only enough feta in there for it to be tasted but not really experienced, at least in our box. Secondly, the box. Look at the picture. It's so lame. Put some gods or cyclops or at least Socrates on there, for goodness sake. Also it refers to the dough as "fillo." I've seen "phyllo" (my preferred spelling) and "filo" but never "fillo." It's not the first time that TJ's makes a goofy error like that on a box, but combine that with the generic design and lack of feta, I can't help but think this is some cheapie knockoff frozen brand in TJ's clothing. Kind of like the Trojan Horse, I guess. One last gripe: the spinach filling kinda spewed partially out halfway thru the baking time, causing this burnt mess I had to scrunge off our baking sheet, which I hate doing. As a word of advice, put some tin foil under these suckers. You'll thank me.

It's time for the Golden Spoons...hopefully we won't *fleece* them...sorry. Sandy seems to like them well enough, but I was a little perplexed when she went with a four for them. "They're not as good as the real thing, but they're pretty good anyways," she said. Hmm. Apparently, they're also not as good as reheated leftover pizza crust to her either, as she opted for those over her third spinachy bite during our pizza and spanakopita lunch the other day. Not like I'm complaining for picking up her slack, but let's just say these don't exactly get my Zorbas dancing either. I'll counter with a 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Café Pajaro Blend

I'm going to admit that I'm really not all that knowledgeable when it comes to coffee. I'm just not. I sorta know what a café au lait is because that has been one of Sandy's usual pickups out at the coffee shops. But a caffè americano? A latte? Espresso versus cappuccino? Can't help you there. Heck, I get confused about what Starbucks names their sizes. I'd be the world's worst barista, easily. For a good space of time, I was thrilled with whatever gas station brew as long as there was a good selection of the little colored International Creamers available.* So, yeah, I know I'm not exactly a threat to take over the title of Mr. Coffee, but I know what like. I like coffee that's dark, strong, and vibrant, that'll smack me awake as I settle in with a fresh French press-full for a long day's work at my corporately bland, super-bleachy lighted, muted cubicle (as you can see from the picture - hey, look, my reflection!). In other words, completely the opposite from the free work stuff that tastes like brown water that somehow spoiled. With the right stuff in my cup, there's a fighting chance that I won't commit a felony or curse out some ridiculous insurance company have to deal with (believe me, I've come close).

As a coffee novice, I generally like Trader Joe's selection. Two big winners for me are the New Orleans Style with Chicory and the Italian Roast, but even the cheapie Cup of Joe stuff does alright in a pinch. This past time around, it was time for something new, so let's get on with the Trader Joe's Café Pajaro.

In case you don't know Spanish or couldn't pick it up from the packaging context of the big ol' Toucan Joe, pajaro simply means "bird." So we're talking about bird coffee. I guess that's supposed to make consumers feel like it's a tropical treat. Eh, maybe. The coffee bean mix comes from farms in Nicaragua, Peru and southern Mexico, so it's at least a little exotic-y. The beans are definitely dark roasted but not scorched (like way too much other stuff out there). When brewed, the output is definitely dark, dark coffee that smells rather inviting. For me, a little half and half is all I need to get it right. Too much added sugar will cover up way too much of the natural flavor that's subtly sweet with some chocolate tones. The good thing is, unlike some coffee/cocoa crap I got at TJ's around the holidays, the chocolate taste is there but it doesn't muddy up the overall flavor. It's not quite as bold as I'd like (especially when compared to the TJ's chicory coffee) but it's certainly not weak or watery tasting at all. It won't be the best-tasting coffee you'll ever have , but the Café Pajaro makes for a good cup better than any at-work option, and for $7.49 a canister, a decent value. Definite bonus points for being organic and fair trade.

For the most part, Sandy's been off coffee for the past couple months. The few times she's snuck a sip here and there, she's grimaced and said "blecch" and not much else. Oh, good ol' pregnancy-induced taste aversions that ruin things you once held dear (like one time when we went out for Mexican food). If the baby doesn't like coffee, what can you do? Anyways that means I'm handling the judging of this by myself, like an adult. Hrmmm. It's decent enough but I like the aforementioned ones better, so let's be fair about it and say....

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Café Pajaro: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I once made the mistake of telling that to a talented barista buddy of mine. He immediately cringed and turned away. We've never talked about coffee since.

Trader Joe's Premium Egg Nog

It's been a busy December, as Decembers often are. There's decorating, shopping, and holiday gatherings and whatnot. I often get stressed out and cranky. That's easy to tell from the first couple reviews I did this month. I figure this blog is one of my outlets for ranting and raving, as the blog I do for my day job is so extraordinarily postive and happy all the time. Which reminds me, since it's the holidays and all, we should be thinking about giving to others...and CURE.org is a great organization to support.

Now, before I move on to the actual eggnog, I must say that I really like the snowman cow on the carton. TJ's has some great artwork sometimes. Though, I'm not quite sure what's coming out of the cup in his hand. Is that steam? Is the cow drinking his eggnog hot? I've never heard of that. That's just downright weird.

And I must say I am an eggnog-drinking maniac. I loooove eggnog. It's so disgustingly delicious. I mean, it tastes delicious, but after I drink an entire carton by myself, I feel disgusting. Disgustingly delicious. I've had many, many different brands. I've had it by itself, I've had it with various liquors, I've had it with nutmeg and cinnamon on top, I've had it cut with skim milk. I have drunk it in a car. I have drunk it near and far. As of now, my favorite is Southern Comfort brand. It comes sans alcohol, in vanilla or regular flavors. Amazing. Sorry, Trader Joe. You didn't make the #1 spot.

But you're not at the bottom of the list either. I've had store-brand eggnog that comes in gallon cartons for like two or three bucks. Terrible. I think the worst I've had was Ralph's brand out in California. Yuck. I learned to just shell out the extra $2 and get something that tastes like heaven in a glass. So let's imagine a hypothetical diagram. It's a line. At the far right end of the line is Southern Comfort brand eggnog in that sleek black container, the very paradigm of dairy deliciousness. At the far left end of the line is a repulsive, yellowed store-brand with mysterious brown chunks and the smell of chewed bubblegum. TJ's brand falls just right of center. It's more good than it is bad, but not by much. Its flavor is a bit nutty. Its texture is creamy enough. But there's just nothing to really set it apart from boring, run-of-the-mill eggnogs.

Sonia isn't a connoisseur of fine eggnogs like I am. In fact, up until recently, she thought eggnog was disgusting. She could never get over the smell for some reason. Under slight duress from her husband, she managed to gag down a couple gulps of different eggnogs over the past 3 Christmas seasons in an attempt to expand her horizons and appreciate new things. It's grown on her. She has managed to discern that SoCo brand is the best, but she thinks TJ's may be second.

I agree it's not bad, but I think there are a handful of other brands that would fall in between Trader Joe's not-bad-ness and Southern Comfort's perfection, most notably Alta Dena on the west coast and Turkey Hill here on the east side. I've heard very good things about a brand called Bud's that I haven't gotten to try yet.

Well, apparently, since Sonia still doesn't quite appreciate eggnog fully and recognize it as the nectar of the gods that it is, "second best eggnog ever" only garners a 3 from her. I'm giving it a 3 also. But in my opinion, it's really just a very average eggnog. Either way, it's only gettin' a 6 from us.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gingerbread Coffee

In the past, Trader Joe's has demonstrated an uncanny knack for nailing all things gingerbread-ish. Case in point: the cookie butter. It's not really gingerbread, but it is "reminiscent of gingerbread." Also, the gluten-free ginger snaps, the lemon triple ginger snap ice cream, and the pfeffernusse are all TJ's gingerbread (or at least gingerbread-esque) classics.

I believe this is the first gingerbread beverage I've ever had. It's quite drinkable. Not chuggable, in my opinion, but very drinkable.

I guess I should mention, in case you're a new reader, that I'm not a coffee person. I have the palate of a semi-sophisticated and relatively adventurous 12-year-old. And I like my beverages to taste like candy. So for caffeine, I drink energy drinks. Yes, they're bad for you...however, I've only been drinking ones without high fructose corn syrup, and have been feeling much better since cutting that out of my diet. But that's neither here nor there. My point is that recently, I've been attempting to plunge head-on into adulthood and become addicted to coffee instead of energy drinks.

It's a difficult transition for me—even with coffees that taste as delicious and unique as this one. I put a fair amount of sugar and milk in it when I drink it, though most coffee drinkers might put in less. But I guess gingerbread is intrinsically dessert-like in a way, so the presence of milk and sugar might be a welcome additive even for coffee purists who would only drink this stuff on special occasions and holidays.

This coffee has a mild cinnamon taste, but there really are hints of gingerbread in it, too. It's not a harsh or bold taste at all. This product strikes me as a gentle winter morning wake-me-up beverage. It's nice. Kind of a peaceful flavor, if that makes sense. Sonia likes it, too. She doesn't think there's anything particularly wintery about it, though. She hopes to ration her canister and enjoy this coffee well into the spring...which, apparently, is coming next week. Philadelphia isn't supposed to be in the 50's in the middle of January.

Sonia gives it 4 stars. I give it 3.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Latin Style Black Bean Soup

There's a cookbook that Sandy and I own that we're both kinda squeamish about and very hesitant to use. Strangely enough, it was a wedding gift from our pastor.* Its name? "Intercourses," and yes, that is a double entendre. Aside from being full of artistic and, umm, interesting yet tasteful photos of food and people**, is all sorts of information about food and its various uses besides filling your belly, along with some recipes. One short chapter is devoted to black beans. Now, it isn't cited, so I'm not sure how true this is, but according to the authors, around the year 400 AD an edict went out forbidding nuns from eating black beans because for those "avowed to celibacy, black beans were bad news." Aside from making one randy, they also allegedly have something to do with fertility, and have been used as a symbol as such going back centuries.

Now, Sandy and I enjoy our black beans, but I'm pretty sure that I speak for both of us when I say it's for reasons completely unrelated to any of the above. First of all, they're tasty. Secondly, there's a lot of dishes that we enjoy that quickly and easily incorporate them into a satisfying meal. And of course, with all their fiber and protein, black beans have a lot of health benefits that shouldn't be denied. Anything else they do is extra credit in my book.

I guess if any black bean product had any chance of sweeping us off in a torrid love affair, it'd be Trader Joe's Latin Style Black Bean Soup. You see, it's Latin-inspired, so it sounds a little exotic, a little mysterious, and definitely Antonio Banderas-y. Interpreting it differently, Latin is the origin of all of the world's Romance languages, though in seventh grade it really wasn't apparent what was sexy about sentences like "Britania insula est."***

Anyways back to the soup...not to go all Yoda on you, but whisk us off our feet it does not. I mean, it's okay and all, I guess, and not a bad option, but that being said, I'm not a huge fan. First, and this is ticky-tacky, to get it out of the box, it doesn't really pour. You have to squirt the soup out, and that's just plain weird, and something that I have a minor hang-up about. Squirt boxes, squirt bottles, etc, just aren't my thing. I don't know why. Tastewise, it's pretty nondescript to be honest. You taste a little bean action, before being hit with a wall of black pepper (the last ingredient listed so supposedly the least used...yeah right) before it mellows out to a kinda beany/milky finish. The cumin and garlic and everything else? Don't really taste it, to be honest. It's all smooth and creamy, too, which some may like, but I'd prefer actual beans in there.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a terrible soup. In fact, I'd say it makes a decently tasty pairing with a grilled cheese sandwich for a simple, hearty meal on a cold winter day. It's just I guess my wife's homemade soup more, with whole and pureed beans, and flavor perhaps evened out better by using chicken or veggie stock as a base and not water like Trader Joe's. Sandy makes hers with marginally more effort than heating up a pot of this soup-in-a-box, and hers tastes at least ten times better. I guess hers is what I'm used to, and however unfairly I'm using hers as a measuring stick for the Trader Joe's soup. I can't vouch for the TJ's authenticity, but can say it was a good buy ($2 or $3, misplaced the receipt) and it lasted us two meals.

I asked Sandy what she thought about it. She took the opportunity to kinda half-glare at me, and utter a semi-halfhearted, "I don't know, 3.5 or 4" which I took to mean the lower of the two. To be fair, it was as she was working on some take-home reports from her work, and right before she was going to run out for her usual Monday night babysitting gig, so I can't blame her for being too unenthusiastic, but it just goes to show that she wasn't too impressed either. "It's yummy but I like to have actual beans in my soup," she offered. I agree. It's decent but lacking something, whether it be real legumes or a little extra flavor to finish it off better. It's not the worst black bean-based Trader Joe's offering, but it's not the best either (that's still TBD). I'll go with a 3.

Bottom line:
Trader Joe's Latin Style Black Bean Soup: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Apparently it's his standard wedding gift. "The burritos in it are great," he says with a wink.
**For some reason a certain episode of Seinfeld comes to mind. Believe me, the book is much classier.
***Yes, I know. Different meaning.

Trader Joe's Mojito Salmon

I've only ever heard of a "mojito" as a drink: a Caribbean-originated rum-based citrusy thing with mint. I wikied it. Same thing. No mention of a salmon dish. Trader Joe is getting creative in the kitchen again, apparently. Maybe he dumped the remains of his cocktail on a piece of fish once and like the taste, so he whipped up a recipe and mass produced it for the frozen sections of his stores.

This is another one of those $7 a pop deals...or something pretty close to that. Like the Chicken Serenada, this stuff comes as a single serving, and heating in the microwave is allowed. Sonia decided she couldn't bear to eat salmon from the microwave, so she fired up the oven. Sonia pronounces the "l" in "salmon," as many Angelena's do. Not sure why. They just don't get the whole silent "l" thing. I guess I can't really blame them.

At any rate, we heated it in the oven. It came out firm and slightly dry, but that was just as well for me. I'm not a fan of even slightly-mushy fish.

Any time we do these reviews, it's just natural to compare what we're eating with similar products we've had recently from other places. The TJ's product has to slug it out with its competitor in a virtual arena in my head. Apparently, Russ has similar delusions when he eats Trader Joe's food, as he once wrote an entire review in the manner of a boxing match between veggie sausage patties. A few weeks back, while visiting friends in the D.C. area, Sonia and I had the privilege of trying some salmon burgers from some healthy-type store. I forget where they came from. It wasn't Trader Joe's and it wasn't Whole Foods. It might have been Wegman's. But that's all beside the point, really. The point is that there was some competition for this Mojito Salmon fresh in my memory. Those salmon burgers were tasty.

As I mentioned, this salmon was dry. It was almost too dry for me, and I kinda like my fish on the dry side. I'm sure heating it in the microwave would have yielded something a little more moist. The salmon burgers we had were just right in the moisture department. And they were softer than this Mojito Salmon. Even the parts of the salmon that were buried under that...mojito-esque topping were a little parched. The mojito-esque topping wasn't really very mojito-esque. It was kind of just like a mélange of vegetables and a touch of sauce that happened to be green.

Flavor-wise, the salmon tasted like salmon. It's not like we grilled it, so it didn't taste grilled. It didn't taste fishy (I think if salmon tastes fishy that they probably just took some trout and dyed it pink or something). It was perhaps a tad more salmony than those salmon burgers that we tried (we put a touch of mustard on those). So that was good, but at the same time, they could have done something really special in the flavor department with that mojito-looking stuff on the top, but I found it a bit disappointing and underwhelming. It added little.

Considering the price and size of the dish, it's not a whole lot of bang for your buck in my opinion. It was salmon, and as I might have mentioned before, we quite enjoy salmon. So I can't give it too low a score. How about a 3? Sonia will give it a 3.5 (my score may be lower because I'm projecting my unresolved frustration about that peculiar silent "l" onto the poor fish).

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Maple Leaf Cookies

I really don't know why Canada gets so much flack. Don't know what I mean? Google "Blame Canada" and that'll give you a brief lesson. It's a lovely nation, having visited it close to ten times myself. Montreal? Great city, as close as to being in Europe while still being in North America, as possible. Niagara Falls? A wee bit commercialized, but beautiful, and Niagara-on-the-Lake is pretty charming. And let's not discount what some famous Canadians have done to make our world a better place. Alexander Graham Bell? Jack Warner (founded Warner Bros.)? Bryan Adams? All Canadians. Arcade Fire is one seriously underrated band. And let's not forget my favorite Canadian contribution to society...Tim Hortons. Man oh man, Sandy and I love us some Timmy Ho's. Not that there's one in Pittsburgh (okay, a coffee stand at the Consol Energy Center), but while traversing to a neighboring state to procure some TJ goodies not available in PA (the really good, fairly good, and just plain bad), there's one or two stateside shops we can stop at for a sandwich/coffee/doughnut break. Two summers ago, before relaxing at my grandparents' cabin in Maine for a couple nights, we stopped at the Portland shop, and were incredibly irked when the lady in front of us bought every last Timbit that we were so eagerly waiting to munch on over the course of our stay, and were resigned to buying a dozen regular donuts. That just seemed so much more, I dunno, overtly gluttonous or something, and despite being so tasty and delicious, both of us were pretty aware of what we ate and how bad it was for us.

It's kinda like that with Trader Joe's Maple Leaf Cookies. I'll start with the positive: superbly delicious. Seriously, with just about anything maple-related, these were right up my alley. These are big, huge honking cookies, with two thick maple leaf-shaped shortbread cookies tinged with maple sandwiching a mega-swath of maple cream. Think Double-Stuffed Oreos on steroids except far, far tastier. The filling is rich and sweet and practically dripping with maple goodness, and I'm a sucker for a good shortbread wafer to boot. I want to eat and eat and eat these, and wash them down with a tall glass of milk poured right from the bag. On the merits of taste alone, both Sandy and I agree: pantheon contender, almost a certain shoo-in.

Except one thing...look at the second picture here. That's for one cookie. I've said it before, and will say it again, that I'm not a prude when it comes to nutritional info. Tastes good, eat it, I say, and damn the torpedoes. Usually. I'm slowly working myself out of that mindset, and this is one singular cookie we're talking about, with no inherent nutritional value nor any expectations thereof. It's like a luxury item, and for something so good it makes you want to eat more than one, well, before too long you could find yourself in some trouble that'll take more than just curling to work off. I don't there's much harm in having one, but that's not where I want to stop.

I needed something else to help justify the relatively low score these will be earning, because really, I wanted to five these babies up, but can't. I looked all over the box for something, anything, and saw that on the front, these are clearly labeled as "Maple Leaf Cookies" with "cream" filling. Well, I'm not sure if the side of the box was printed in Quebec or something, because it refers to the product as "Maple Creme Cookies" with "creme" filling. C'mon now, you couldn't expect to blow that past me like a Gretzky slapshot, could ya, Trader Joe? That's yet some more silly packaging from you. Gotta love it.

Sandy insists we've had them before, but I don't remember that at all. They really do deliver for a sweet, maple-y, sugary treat, but for Sandy and me at least, we have to begrudgingly hold ourselves to one, and that makes it harder to enjoy them, and so we may not spend our loonies and toonies on them for a bit again ($3.29 American for the box). Me forgetting about allegedly buying them before must have been a psychological defense mechanism, kinda like what kicks in whenever I hear Celine Dion and remember I saw "Titanic" three times in the theaters. Ugh. Sandy's divided between a 3 and a 3.5 for these, as am I.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips and Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa

Ok, so I'll admit it. I was kinda tempted to look up some surfer lingo for reviewing the Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips to drop in and make myself sound cool or something. Thing is, Sandy and I aren't even close into fitting into the surfer crowd, and me trying to sound like I do would, like, totally sound bogus or something. Busted, man.* All it took was a couple short hours at Huntingdon Beach in California on our September vacation to confirm that, during which time due to a sunscreen spray snafu I ended up with a second degree sunburn on my back. Unrighteous, dude. But I guess that's just the price I pay for my pale ginger beauty. Sunburns at night are a real thing and those who suffer from them shouldn't be mocked.

Okay, I made that up. It's better than me trying to make up too many other surfing similes while trying to review a bag of chips and jar of salsa. Other than being shaped vaguely like surfboards, there's no relation I can make from these chips to surfing at all. I can't even say that Sandy and I channel surf while munching on these, because we decided to not have cable and any shows we watch (currently "Law & Order: SVU" and "Phineas & Ferb" ... interesting combo...) we stream from Netflix via our Wii. I thought couchsurfing might be a term, and it is, but not what I thought it was (although fortunately a work-safe link to click).

So yeah, anyways, the tortilla chips. Pretty decent, actually. They're long, flattish ovals (hence the "longboard") made from stone-ground white corn and lightly salted. There's not much to them tastewise, of course, which isn't a bad thing. They're really not too much different from a typical crunchy, salty, fried, tortilla chip aside from two things: 1. They're organic and 2. The shape. Somebody thought, apparently that these were an ideal shape for dipping, which I can see if you're going for the bottom half of a tall skinny jar of salsa or something. Dump your dip in a bowl, though, and it loses that advantage and makes it no more and no less than just a chip. They're all kinda wrinkled and crinkled a little differently, so I don't see what makes these so exceptional for dipping. Also, I'm not sure if it was directly because of its long slender shape, but there seemed to be an inordinate amount of busted-in-half tortilla chips in our bag. The Tostito Tortilla Scoops seem to be the best for salsa-bearing capacity and capability, though I like the overall taste of the TJ tortillas better and appreciate that they're organic and lower sodium per serving (as if we can stick to those, unfortunately). For a bag of chips in the $2-$2.49 range, they won't change your life or anything, but chances are you won't be too displeased.

And of course, a good tortilla chip needs a good salsa. I could make a joke about TJ's Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa bringing in a "tidal wave of taste" bringing in a "flavor wipeout" or something, but nah. What I will say is, darn good salsa. Let's see, first ingredient is tomatoes, which are generally red, tomatillos, which are green, and yellow chiles, which my sources tell me are, in fact, yellow. Add them all up with some onions and other stuff like garlic and cilantro, and it makes the greenish reddish brownish jar of tastiness. Everything seems fairly well pureed so it lacks any big chunks, much to Sandy's delight, and goes down easy. The tomatillos, which salsa verde is made from, adds some mild depth to the flavor while the yellow chile adds some roastedness and a kind of sweetness. It's far from being a spicy salsa, but it seems to me to be one of the most flavorful of the Trader Joe salsas, and for once not in a nasty overly vinegary kinda way. It's so good I can eat it by the spoonful, and I'm already envisioning using it in some of our soup recipes which call for a jar of salsa. We made some tortilla soup a week or so ago that I put just plain salsa verde, and that lacked a requisite snap. This salsa won't have that problem. I just went shopping again yesterday and have already made it a repeat purchase. For $2.29, it'd be hardpressed to be beat, although a little more spice would make it absolutely killer.

Sandy and I ate quite a bit of the chips and salsa few nights ago while relaxing, and this was a definite winning combination for the both of us. Neither one of us have anything too bad to say about the chips, nothing overly affirmative either except hey, they're organic, so they must be good for you or something. Or at least better, so we can feel less guilty while chowing down. I think we settled on matching 3.5s for the surf-inspired longboard chips. The salsa? Sandy's judgement: "Mmmmm it's sooooo goooooood...let's eat more tonight!!!!" That translates to a four. My call is, I really like it, quite a bit, actually, but wish it ended on a slightly less sweet/spicier note. Really, just a tidbit more spice, and we got ourselves a pantheon candidate here. As is, I'll give it a 4.5 just to taunt it a little bit.

Bottom lines:
Trader Joe's Organic Tortilla Longboard Chips: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chile Salsa: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*See what I mean?

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Soufflés

I actually wrote the bulk of my previous post (about the peanut butter oat bars) in a little journal while riding on the train home from work. For some reason, it felt like I had written a novel, and yet, when I transcribed it into this blog, the post actually turned out significantly shorter than my average post. I had completely forgotten how tedious writing by hand can be. I guess some might say how cathartic and therapeutic it is, but really, I do much prefer typing on a keyboard. (I'm writing this entry by hand right now, and my wrist is already tired and sore after one measly paragraph). Thank goodness for modern conveniences. It's so easy to take them for granted. But anyway, I imagine you're interested in the soufflés...

Prior to this blog post, I'm not sure if I could have told you precisely what a "soufflé" is. Something sort of puffy came to mind when I heard the word, but I don't think I knew what it was made of or what it tasted like or anything. I suppose not knowing the properties of a traditional soufflé gave me somewhat of a disadvantage when it came to comparing and contrasting a pumpkin soufflé with a usual one. But that's not really the point, as I am a foodie-hack that knows what he likes and what he doesn't like and that's pretty much what this blog is all about, take it or leave it.

Here's what I found about souffles from a quick Google search:

souf fle /ˈso͞ofəl/
Noun: A low murmuring or blowing sound heard through a stethoscope.

Wow! Pumpkin indeed must have transformed these strange murmurs into something different entirely. These souffles are more like oven pastries than blowing sounds within the body (though they may create such noises after consumption). Ah, but silly me—these are soufflés, not souffles. The accent over the "e" makes all the difference, even if it does slow down my typing, hitting "alt+0233" every time I type the word "soufflé." It's still much faster than writing by hand, so I won't complain about the alt commands...at least not until there's some kind of app that reads your mind every time you want to type a letter with an accent as opposed to the organic, non-accented version.

But seriously though, apparently, a soufflé is a cupcake-like pastry of sorts that puffs up while you bake it and then deflates like a cheap children's jumping castle at a frat party once you take it out of the oven. The box recommends baking these in cupcake pans for 25 minutes. We didn't have cupcake pans, so we baked them on a regular baking tray. They took 40 minutes for us—perhaps for want of the proper culinary tools. And they were still very squishy in the middle. But I rather enjoyed them that way. Sort of like warm bread pudding, texture-wise. They tasted like pumpkin pie filling. Which, unless you're like my friend who, on the subject of pumpkin pie, once said, "Um, yeah, like, I'm not big on vegetables as desserts," is a fairly good flavor.

My big complaint with the Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream was that it tasted like pumpkin pie, but lacked the duality of textures featured in pumpkin pie: bread and puddingy filling. Well, this product was sorta like a combo of both of those textures, more greatly resembling the former on the outside, where it was cooked better, and more greatly resembling the latter on the inside, where it was slightly more raw. So, if you can get something to taste like pumpkin pie and have a bit of complexity in the texture department, it's a winner in my book. I give it 4 stars.

My score might have been slightly lower, but my wife enjoyed neither the texture nor the flavor of these. Not exactly sure why. She said she just didn't like them. She shafted them with a paltry 2 stars. That's just too low. These shouldn't be lower than a 6 overall. And that's exactly what they shall be.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Italian Roast

Y'know, Trader Joe's has had some odd names and silly packaging for some of their products before, but this one...this might be the most out there in a way. First, the name. If you weren't giving it much thought, or were completely ignorant of what section of the store you were in, and just saw a can labelled "Trader Joe's Italian Roast," well, isn't it conceivable it could cross your mind that this is a big o' can of tasty tender savory meat? Okay, probably not, but it's coffee, why not put it in the name? It'd be kinda like naming something "Honey Nuts" without an "O" in the title to tip you off it's cereal. Then there's the design on the canister. My picture cannot fully encompass the absurdity of it, but take a gander at it next time you're at TJ's. From left to right, you got Edward and Bella of "Twilight" fame pictures. Bella, of course, has kinda spacey, lost-in-the-sparkly-dreaminess-of-Edward gaze upon her face. Meanwhile, Edward has an arm growing out of the back of his head that's pouring a lady with a honky-tonk badonkadonk in a red dress a cup of coffee, while simultaneously apparently thrusting his spittle on a disproportionately huge steaming mug, served by a dude with a funny shaped head, skeevy 'stache, gigantor arms, and strong-as-all-heck fingertips. If that's not enough, there's the Tower of Pisa, the Red Baron flying by, and some chick who kinda looks like Mona Lisa sipping a cartoon drink through a straw. If you're a fan of bad puns, in the product write-up, there's a reminder that this'll make you a cup of guiseppe because it's Italian. Get it? Har-de-har-har. That's pretty lame.

Know what isn't lame though? A good full cup of this dark roasted coffee. I usually brew my own coffee at work with a French press (much to the continual amazement of my coworkers) and recently I felt the need to switch from my usual go-to get-up-and-go. I'm glad France and Italy got over any hard feelings from the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis a few years back and managed to combine efforts to make this kind of caffeinated beverage possible. For me, a good cup of coffee is strong, vibrant, with a little character, and it sure as heck shouldn't taste burnt. That's pretty much this. There's three types of beans (Costa Rican Tarrazu, Colombian Excelso, New Guinea Koban, if you're a coffee bean buff) which have much more flavor than, say, Sanka or whatever brown mulch my work uses for coffee. Each cup I've had of this has tasted well-balanced yet bold, and rich and well-flavored enough that I can usually get away without putting any sugar in it and only a sparse amount of cream. Not that's it's sweet or anything, because it's not. It's just good, kinda earthy, kinda nutty, and has more than enough caffeine to put me in a good mood for the day without buzzing like a banshee.

I've brought this home on the weekend for Sandy and I to enjoy...well, enjoy's too strong a word for her. Tolerate? Maybe. Sandy just doesn't like her coffee tasting like, well, coffee, and has to have all sorts of flavor shots and loads of sugar a la Dunkin Donuts to really like her coffee. Eh, I enjoy that stuff, too. "It's just too dark for me," she says, "although not burn-y. That's good." She's going through more of a green tea/steamed milk/hot chocolate kick right now anyways, so that may contribute slightly to her non-enthusiasm. We had a couple over for brunch the other weekend where we served this, and it was a definitely hit for me and the other guy ("wow," he said), so apparently it's all dependent on your preference. To be honest, I don't recall the exact price of this, but I think the can runs somewhere in the $6-$7 range, which isn't bad at all. I still like the chicory-laced brew a tad better, which I gave a four, so I think I'll go 3.5 here. Not a bad change-up, and it'll definitely make my work-coffee rotation. Sandy? For the aforementioned reasons, she's slapping it with a 2.5.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Milk Chocolate Covered Potato Chips and Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake

There's a lot of perks to being one of the world's foremost amateur-hack foodie reviewer of all things Trader Joe's. I love whenever Sandy and I walk into the local store, we're greeted by the cashiers ringing their bells to the glorious tune of "Ode to Joy" as one of the stock boys approaches us both with a lei to place around our necks and gives us a hint to where the stuffed elephant is this week. Well, okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration. What isn't, though, is the sheer influx of all sorts of recommendations to try this or try that. In fact, one of our best finds was pointed out to us by a friend of mine, and further confirmed by lots of Facebook comments to the general effect of "You gotta try the chocolate caramel sea salt bar! OMG!!!" I'll admit that I generally love all the recommendations we receive, even though it makes our "to try" list almost as long as the tax code but far, far tastier.

Anyways, one item that's come up over and over and over again is Trader Joe's newish Milk Chocolate Covered Potato Chips. I get the appeal. Sandy and I were making a quick trip for some chips and hummus before heading to a friend's get-together, she saw the new bright shiny display, and immediately looked at me, eyes wide open, strained cheeks, teeth slightly bared. I can be a little slow on the uptake, but the meaning was quite clear: Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseplease pleaseprettyprettyplease we should eat these in the car plllllllease. Well, okay. You can tell our rush to try them out as Sandy quick snapped the picture on my iPhone after quickly plopping them on a windowsill inside the store. And sorry, we neglected to get the nutriotion info snapshot as enough employees were already giving us the stink-eye. We'll remedy this soon.

I'm not sure they were worth the rush, hub-bub and hype. I mean, they're good and all, don't get me wrong. They're just not as good as I hoped. First off, they have way too much chocolate and not enough chip. You know how, if you order a plate of nachos, and there's always one or two that have all the melty cheese attached to them? Think of every chip in the bag, except it's chocolate. It's good, tasty chocolate, to be sure, but it's just too much. Also, consider the chips. On the plus side, they're big, crunchy, full of ridges and definitely noticeable even in the cocoa flux. I like them, but there's two problems: First, namely, there's not enough of them. And second, well, I don't think they're salted, which I was kinda expecting. These are like the polar opposite of the Sea Salt Brownie Petites, which were way too salty. Not to go all Goldilocks on you, but these weren't salty enough (the aforementioned sea salt/caramel chocolate bar? Just right).

Sandy and I pretty much agree on these: not a bad munchie, but there's better irresistible snacks at TJ's. Sandy goes with a respectable three, I'll go with half a spoon better.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Annnnnnnnnd....here's a quickie bonus review of Trader Joe's Pumpkin Cheesecake, another well-recommended item from our readers. Not that I'd recommend combining the chocolate potato chips and the cheesecake into one dessert...that's a combo even I wouldn't try...but if it's your thing, well, who am I to judge? This was another quick stop pick-up for a family dinner on a day when we didn't have a chance to make a homemade dessert. However,as you can see by the far-snazzier looking picture, Sandy had much more time to make it look all fancy on her iPhone. It's in the freezer section, and the instructions say something to the effect of thaw for an hour or two at room temperature and it'll be good to go. Well, like other TJ desserts of this ilk, the results left a little to be desired. We waited the two hours to slice it up, and there were still some frozen bits here and there, and it had the unmistakable just-frozen taste to it. That's not a huge minus to me. I quite enjoyed it, actually, as it was tart, tasty, and kinda creamy, though it could have been creamier (see: just frozen). And kinda like the pumpkin pancake mix, the cheesecake was sort of pumpkin-pie tasting, while probably erring on the side of not pumpkinny enough, which I can appreciate. The graham cracker crust was pretty good, too, and for $6.99, not a bad price for a family-sized dessert. Most of our clan liked it enough, with even an enthusiastic "five" rating from the under-six crowd, while the rest of us gave a few satisfied Mmms. Only my dad had any mildly negative flavor comments ("not pumpkin pie-like enough"), and if you knew how well he's been spoiled over the years by tasty homemade desserts, you wouldn't blame him. I'll go ahead and give it a four, I think, while Sandy sticks with a three for mostly texture-related issues (related to being just frozen, of course). I'd say it's worth getting for a easy dessert to share if you don't have the time for homemade goodies, just give it plenty of thawing time before serving.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream

I bet Miles Standish, John Alden and the gang didn't have anything like this at the first Thanksgiving. They were just figuring out how to grow crops and take shelter in the New World, and I'm pretty sure the establishment of the Plymouth Rock Creamery took a back seat to surviving and whatnot. Nevertheless, the recipe for this colonial treat was apparently passed down from Pilgrim Joe to his descendent, Trader Joe, who has decided to offer this holiday treat to all of us.

I know, I know. It's a little early for Thanksgiving stuff. But really, pumpkin season begins in October—what with "Joe-o-Lantern" carving and pumpkin patches and the advent of the Great Pumpkin, etc. I've been enjoying pumpkin seeds, pumpkin cookies, pumkin pie and pumpkin ale since the beginning of the month. And Russ, incidentally, has been enjoying other season-appropriate foods such as pumpkin pancakes.

Despite my acceptance of all things pumpkin, I was sort of reluctant about this ice cream for some reason. Maybe it's because I recently tried Trader Joe's Lemon Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream that Russ reviewed a little bit ago, and I knew that no other ice cream could possibly follow such an outstanding flavor. Wow. Yes, the lemon ice cream is THAT GOOD.

And sure enough, I'm just a little disappointed with this pumpkin flavor. It's certainly not that it tastes bad. If you like pumpkin-flavored desserts, you'll like this. I guess what I was pining for was a bit more in the texture department. It's just ice cream. If they would have thrown in some pumkin pie pieces, I think they could have nailed it. The bread/crust part of pumpkin pie really rounds out the creamy pie-filling and makes it a total dessert. Eating this ice cream, for me, was not unlike eating a bunch of cold pie filling by itself. Not terrible, but it could absolutely be improved by some additional textures and complementary flavors.

It's very pumpkinny. It's got the traditional spices, like nutmeg, that you'd want in a pumpkin-based dessert, and it doesn't taste fake...and it's not at all bland. This is another food that I kind of feel like a jerk for not giving it a great score. Because it is a great product. I just feel like it could have been even better. I've been spoiled by treats like the lemon ginger snap and Ben & Jerry's, which generally have a bunch of other yummy foods blended seamlessly into the ice cream.

In light of what it could have been, I give it a 2.5. Sonia was pleasantly surprised (and, she wasn't as impressed with the lemon ice cream, either) so she gives it a 4.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Halloween Joe Joe's

A while back, Russ reviewed the Candy Cane Joe Joe’s. Those things are so popular, they have their own Facebook fan page with nearly 2,000 followers! Russ wasn’t quite as enthused with them as some people seem to be, but they got an OK score from WG@TJs. And a long, long time ago, I reviewed the Joe Joe’s n’ Cream Ice Cream. Pretty good.

I’ve heard a bit of online chatter about these Halloween Joe Joe’s, available only seasonally, and they’re apparently a pretty big hit, as well. It’s kind of a holiday theme I see here: sandwich cookies with candy canes at Christmas, Jack-o-Lantern face cookies for Halloween (or should I say “Joe-o-Lantern,” haha), and then who can forget the Thanksgiving Joe Joe’s with cranberry sauce filling or the New Year’s Joe Joe’s: two thin chocolate cookies with layers of pork and sauerkraut in between. Yummy. Actually, those last two types of Joe Joe’s don’t really exist, at least not to the best of my knowledge. But my point is that there’s a whole line of Joe Joe’s products, including a few seasonal items that people wait eagerly for each year.

Now, I wasn't as courteous as Russ with this post, because I didn't think to take a picture of the nutrition information before I threw away the box. I will attempt to remember to do so in the future, as our readers have asked for that. And it's just one more practical way we can help people plan their weekly grocery store trips. For these cookies, I'm going to go out on a limb and tell you that these are not low fat, low calorie, or low anything. These cookies are full-on dessert items. Hopefully Trader Joe's used real sugar and other natural sweeteners like they usually do instead of something out of a test tube, but other than that, there's probably not a whole lot that was spared to make these a sweet treat type of food, as opposed to a lite, healthy snack.

As far as taste, well, they're chocolate sandwich cookies with vanilla filling. Very sweet. They seemed sweeter than most to me. And I have a sweet tooth. Sonia, who claims to like sweets less than I do, says that they were the perfect sweetness and better than Oreos. That's a bold statement. I don’t know if I can agree with that statement totally, but I will give them this: their “vanilla bean cream” filling actually tastes like vanilla bean…very natural—super sweet—but certainly not fake. I guess it might be better than the filling in an Oreo. And let’s face it, the filling is the best part. I thought the chocolate part of the cookies was pretty standard.

I don’t know what else to say about them, except maybe that they’re cute. Yeah, everything from the packaging, to the orange-colored filling, to the aforementioned “Joe-o-Lantern” face on them is remarkably well-designed and season-appropriate. Props to the designers.

Maybe in part because she's a graphic designer and has an affinity for cute things (such as myself), Sonia’s gonna give ‘em a 4. She’s a fan. They’re good…but there was something about them that made me feel like I had eaten too much after eating only about three. And that doesn’t happen to me very often. If not for the ounce of self-control I was blessed with, I could generally down an entire package of cookies like these before getting that “Oh, maybe I should stop eating” feeling. So I’ll give ‘em a 3.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef and Taco Seasoning Mix

Nathan sure was right a few posts back. We really do like our desserts, and probably from the looks of me, a little too much. I guess it's not that surprising that Trader Joe's, in my estimation, has a lot of tasty sweets. But tasty fake meats? I'll admit it, as an avid carnivore, that's a shocker. There's the soy chorizo, the first item I ever reviewed for this blog, and still an every-trip pick up. The veggie sausage turned out a winner, even over the more famous national brand. Heck, I don't even really like corn dogs all that much, but the Trader Joe's Meatless Corn Dogs? Sandy and I got them a couple weeks ago, and dang it...tasty. Good call, Nathan.

So...Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef. Once we saw it, based on our good fake meat history, Sandy and I figured it'd make a worthwhile purchase, despite its problematic name a la the soy chorizo. This time, it's all English, no fun with Spanish. See, the "Beef-less" kinda cancels out the "Beef" part of the equation, leaving this as simply "Trader Joe's Ground," as in, like, dirt. So, buying something that kinda resembles dirt, and its label practically says it's as much, so as I began making it the other night I was sure hoping it'd be something more suited for my belly than our garden out front.

Tell ya what: I don't think it's as good as the other fake meats listed above, but still, it's pretty decent. It comes fully cooked and vacuum-packed so for some quick tacos after a babysitting night, it made an easy choice. Consistency-wise, it's not quite regular ol' ground chuck, but it crumbled up okay enough, and I suppose it's moist enough that one could attempt to make meatballs and burgers out of it. Still, it's kinda obvious that it's fake when you chomp in. Rubbery or chewy or smushy isn't the right word...just fake-ish. But, the beefless beef tastes alright. It definitely comes a little seasoned on its own, but not overly, so it's the kinda thing to do with what you will. I think Sandy and I would be up for trying it out in some lasagna or try to make meatballs or do whatever else we want to the next time we go on some crazy meat-free kick.

Anyways, if you're making tacos when it's late and you're hungry, you need an easy way to spice up your carne dementira. So why not some Trader Joe's Taco Seasoning Mix? I'm usually the type who likes to spice my own meat and chili and all however I see fit by grabbing whatever off the spice rack and going all Bobby Flay on it so I'm kinda anti pre-made spice packs. I picked up a pack a weekend or two ago for making some homemade white chicken chili, though, because I wanted to pay some more attention to the pierogi I was also making, and man, that was good chili (even Sandy liked it!). And somehow I found another packet in my pantry, so I figured, why not for our tacos. This is some good good spicy stuff. It's heavy on the cayenne and chili pepper, with a good dash of black pepper, too. In other words, my kinda mix, except I didn't make it. It's definitely spicy, although, naturally, a little too heavy on the seasoned salt and salt in general.

In all, our tacos were pretty good and hit the spot while we caught up on "Glee." Yes, I watch "Glee," with my wife, so she'll let me watch football every once in a while with minimal grumbling...sometimes. It's not like I kinda sorta like the show or anything...but some of those kids got talent...okay, back to fake spicy meat. Sandy gave the beefless beef a three, mostly for texture concerns, while she really didn't say anything much about the seasoning mix except to say "mmm...spicy." I guess that means a four from her. Let's see, for me, I'll go with a 3.5 for the fake beef, I think, and perhaps another 3.5 for the taco seasoning mix. I kinda liked them both but for the beef, it just wasn't quite all there enough somehow, and I just like my own random spice combos over some prepackaged deal, however good it may be. In all, not bad for a quick fix, but sometimes the real deal just has to win.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Beef-less Ground Beef: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's Taco Seasoning Mix: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix and Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend

Hooray it's fall. That means: ever encroaching dusks, cooler temps, leaves changing, playoff baseball, football on TV at least four nights a week (much to Sandy's chagrin), and Sandy hogging all the blankets every night (much to mine). Fortunately, for all involved, it also marks the return of all things pumpkin. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin coffee. Pumpkin beer. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin seeds. Peanut butter pumpkins. Pumpkin everything. I know lots of people who, like Linus, await the return of the Great Pumpkin every year, except instead of sitting in a field with a blockhead, they're just waiting for shelves everywhere to be stocked with pumpkin-related goodies. Me? Meh. I like them and all (especially my mom's pumpkin pie), but tend not to go berserk and light up Facebook with pics of the Dunkin Donuts Pumpkin Latte sign the first morning it appears like some of my dear friends (you know who you are). I can appreciate a good pumpkin-related treat here and there, as can Sandy, but I'm more eager for the holiday goodies up around the bend. Til then, though, pumpkin overkill, here we go.

Well, we already know thanks to Nathan that Trader Joe's makes a decent pancake mix. What's it like if we get in the seasonal mood and toss in some pumpkin? The Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix kinda scraps the "all purpose" facade (what do you mean, it can't fix the teeny leak in my roof?) and goes for the pumpkin jugular. Or so you'd think, if your Trader Joe's is anything like ours, where boxes are prominently piled near the entrance and hailed as the newest and greatest thing since, well, last week. Sandy and I decided to give it the old college try a few nights back to see if it was worth the hype.

First, the mix definitely smells pumpkinny, like pumpkin potpourri, almost. I'm half-tempted to sprinkle some in my car for air freshener. It smells good. Taste...well, almost. You get the sense of it, and there's a little tinge of nutmeg and cinnamon and allspice and ginger, and it's just enough to remind you that you're eating something slapped with the pumpkin label. But it could be a lot more, well, pumpkin-like. We've actually had it twice now. The first time, Sandy made some crepes for us and our friend Lisa, and while good, we all felt like there was something a little amiss. Maybe it was because they were thin crepes, we said. Well, to test our hypothesis, and to see just how easy they are to make, I, Russ, took it upon myself to make a batch of regular-style ones for tonight. I've never made pancakes before, and like my reviewing counterpart, while I can make lots of good food, there's some stuff I need some grace on kitchenwise. Anyways, my initial fears aside, it's enough to mix up with some milk, melted butter and an egg, and managed to not set off the smoke alarm and make some pretty darn respectable flapjacks for dinner if I may say so myself. This time around, our dinner was a little more pumpkinny, but it still sided more on the under-toned part of the scale.

And of course, you can't have pancakes without some syrup to drench them in. Trader Joe's does have some pretty decent maple syrup, but that Joe, he just has to experiment a little, doesn't he? Enter his Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend. I'm by no means an all-out syrup snob, but generally speaking, I strongly dislike the fake Aunt Jemima junk and much prefer the real stuff (kinda partial to Vermont origin, but Canadian-born is acceptable, too). Okay, maybe I'm a semi-snob. Well, this semi-snob doesn't know all that much about agave syrup except Trader Joe's has another organic blue agave syrup that Sandy gets every once in a while to mix in coffee instead of sugar. That and usually it's Mexican. Our neighbors to the north and south apparently then tagteamed each other in making this syrup, and it's okay. It's not as thick as 100% pure maple syrup, of course, and is definitely more sugary and sweet than amber-y and maple-y. I suppose we should have figured that. For three bucks, it's okay I guess, but for another buck or two, you can do better at TJ's. Much better.

Still, make some pumpkin pancakes and slather on some maple agave syrup, and it makes a good meal. Kinda like the recently retired REM's discography (and exactly the opposite of this year's Philadelphia Eagles squad*), when taken altogether, it's greater than the sum of its parts. Maybe I'm trying too hard to get into the autumn mood, or maybe I just really really really liked the cinnamon honey butter that Sandy whipped up, but I liked the combination both times around more than I liked either the pancakes and syrup separately.

Sandy, who usually is more into pumpkin and funky goodies than me, had more or less the same reaction both times around. The pancakes could taste more like pumpkin, and the syrup could taste more like maple instead of maple/sugar goopy water. Without too much hesitation, she branded each with a three. I'm inclined to agree with her on the maple agave syrup (I'm betting it'll sit in the fridge for a long time) but, when thinking of my two pancake dinners in the past three nights and reasonably enjoying each one, I think the pancake mix gets a four. For me, I guess if I had to decide between "too much" and "not enough" pumpkin flavor, I'd go with "not enough." It certainly beats getting another rock in your trick-or-treat bag, Charlie Brown.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Pumpkin Pancake and Waffle Mix: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons Trader Joe's Organic Maple Agave Syrup Blend: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I can say this only because I'm from the Phily area and have been an Eagles fan since the Randall Cunningham era. Randall-freakin'-Cunningham. I will allow no other smack talk about my team from anyone else who is not an Eagles fan. I guess, though, that we can add "delusions of grandeur" to Vince Young's psychological issues.