Trader Joe's Seedy Almond Salad Topper

What's the best part of pizza?

That's easy. It's the little wedgie of cheese that gets stuck on the pan or box after slicing it. With a little luck, there's a good tidbit of topping left on it, too.

Likewise, the best bite of cake? For me at least, it's little scrapey parts, mostly frosting, left over. Clean that up right, that's what I always say.

Or the best chip chomp? When there's just a few little shards left, down in the bottom, which makes them perfect from sliding right from the bag into your mouth. Yum.

So...salad. What's the tastiest part of salad?

Also easy. Gotta be the goodies you put on top.

Nothing against spinach or lettuce or shredded carrots or grape tomatoes or pepper slices or any other veggie part of salad. That's some wholesome goodness. They're what makes a salad good. But what dermines if a salad is goood is the toppings and munchies, especially if you're not one for salad dressing (like me).

So does Trader Joe's Seedy Almond Salad Topper make a salad good or not?

Couldn't tell ya. I ate it on eggs instead.

 To be fair, that's one of the recommended uses printed right on the front of the bag, along with "vegetables" (presumed of the non-salad-esque variety) and cream cheese bagels. We were having eggs for dinner. Had to write a review. Gotta do what you gotta do. And as much as the bag also suggested it was a great idea, I didn't want to eat a little baggie of seeds all by itself.

And yup, baggie. Inside the main bag there's eight seperate single serving size sacks o' seeds. Each contain about the same amount of almond slivers, pepitas, sesame seeds (white and black), and nigella seeds with a slight little spicy kick from crushed red pepper.  As you could imagine, there's nuttiness and a little earthiness, a good bit of sesame, and even almost a little bit of a onion-y to not quite garlic-y essence to the mix, backed by some heat. In some ways, it kinda seemed like the everything but the bagel spice blend, minus the salt but plus the nuts and pepitas. The whole mix is appropriately crunchy and munchy, with a varying texture that did seem a little odd perhaps on eggs - almonds on eggs? seriously? - but I could tell it'd work well in a hearty salad, or on some roasted chicken or grilled veggies, or in several kinds of ways I haven't quite come up with yet but perhaps you have.

It's $3.99 for the big bag, eight servings in there, so basically 50 cents a pop for a small handful of stuff. It'd probably be more economical to make your own if this blend is one you particularly enjoyed, so there's a slight knock. As always, there's a premium for convenience.

Not much else to really say. So, for some, here's the best part of the review: the end.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seedy Almond Salad Topper: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels

"I like them."

"They're a little different, but good."

"I mean, they aren't like my new favorite thing, so I'm not like going to go out and buy all of them and them be my new go to staple item, but you know, they were all right, I guess."

After something like eight years and somewhere around five or six hundred reviews by your truly on here, whenever I ask my lovely bride Sandy about what she thinks about some sort of TJ's product, that's her response at least 90% of the time.

Please note: this doesn't include all the other TJ's things we've consumed but have not reviewed, so it's a lot. Imagine being asked for your opinion on almost everything you eat for years and years, full well knowing anything you say can and probably will be held against you on a blog accessible to everyone in the world. You'd kind of want to plead the 5th after a while, don't ya think? I'm grateful she'll still talk with me about it.

I bring this up about Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels because, well, that about sums 'em up perfectly, and I have scant more to really say about them myself.

I like them. I mean, it's dark chocolate and caramel, primarily, which is a pretty solid base. Unless something really goes awry from here, it's a near given for at least a slightly positive review.

They're a little different, but good. It's the sesame, of course. The package shows these caramels as having a sesame-seed tcrunchy toffee base with a little dollop of caramel atop. I'm not saying it's inaccurate...but the amount of toffee itself seems overstated. There's a lot of caramel, and just enough sesame seeds to add a little crispy crunch and some subtle sesame flavor. It's not unpleasant at all, but really, one or two or enough. Theese TJ caramels are decidedly not bingeworthy, at least for me.

I mean, they aren't like my new favorite thing, so I'm not like going to go out and buy all of them and them be my new go to staple item, but you know, they were all right, I guess. Couldn't have said it better myself, love.

As a plus kids probably won't like them too much, and there's a kinda decadent element to them, so it's one treat us adults can savor and keep for ourselves. And at $3 or $4 for the bag, it's not a horrible value either. So when Sandy does her usual eye -scrunched "Hmmmm...three and a half, I guess" when I ask her how many Golden Spoons, that seems about right to me as well.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Toasted Sesame Caramels: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Original Savory Thin Crackers

Sonia let me eat these crackers in our bed. She didn't really have a choice. It's not like I asked permission. She was still asleep.

In my defense, I did use a plate and napkin, and I don't think I allowed any crumbs to spill onto the sheets. If I had, our dogs would likely have gobbled them up anyway.

Often, before I begin my usual work for the day, I'll try to get a head start on the following day's post for this blog very early on. I mean, writing posts for this blog is usually—not always, but usually—the most fun project of the day. But still, I like knocking out as many tasks as possible early on. Lately, I've found myself waking up at dawn without the assistance of an alarm clock. I'm generally showered, dressed, and have completed a number of domestic tasks like yesterday's dishes or taking out the trash, along with a few tweets and pins by 7am or shortly thereafter. So if there's any way to justify my product for review as a breakfast option, it often becomes just that.

Crackers for breakfast isn't that weird I guess. I had these crispy crunchables with hummus, cheese, and the very last scrapings of our garlic spread dip. All of those toppings worked brilliantly with these gluten-free crackers, not that I was expecting anything less.

They're rice-based, and they taste that way. I've had plenty of other rice crackers throughout the years, and the flavor here is pretty similar. There's a significant sesame taste, too, by virtue of not only sesame seeds, but also sesame flour. Sesame seeds don't really thrill or astound me much these days, but likewise, I won't complain about their presence, either. In a cracker like this, the flavor is deliberately muted, so as to showcase the flavor of whatever cheese or topping they're paired with.

Texture-wise, they're nice and thin, slightly brittle, rigid, and very crunchy. They're stable enough for a chip-full of any kind of topping, but they break apart effortlessly when bitten into.

There's apparently a "mini" version of this cracker that's oddly available for purchase on just about every online retailer one can think of. I guess because they're so shelf-stable...? Anyway, this version is $1.69 a pack. Good price. Decent product. I'd buy 'em again. Three and a half stars from me.

Sonia says they remind her of Japanese rice crackers. She's certainly not wrong. She's eager to try them with some different toppings. Four stars from her.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gnocchi

Cauilflower...what can't it do?

Well, plenty, I suppose. Top of the list no-can-dos have to include facilitating world peace and being an adequate bacon substitute. But really, here's yet another product predominantly and scientifically featuring  Brassica oleracea var. botrytis...Trader Joe's Caulifower Gnocchi.

Cauliflower was a definite punishment veggie growing up. You know what I mean: the kind you were made to eat for dinner after a day full of misbehavin'. Gnow this is the kid of stuff we gnaturally reach for. Odd.

Anyways, we sauteed our gnocchi per the recommended prep directions. As is our usual, we gneglected to take an actual picture of the finished product - tsktsk, I know - but let me assure you: it looked GNOTHING like the package picture. Look at that gnocchi, with it's fine tan lines and gnice browning. Gnope. Our was pale and limp and and kinda soggy. That may have been our fault, a little, but we did the best we could. Sandy said somewhere on the interwebs there were some folks who suggested alternate methods to achieve that gnice gnocchi as advertised, but we didn't get there with what TJ's was telling us to do.

The rest kinda tasted as it looked. Soft, doughy, not really all that firm, slightly gnuanced with maybe a slight garlic flavor (coulda been our EVOO there, gnot sure what Sandy used), with a definite cauliflower taste. Gnot bad, and okay, but the rest of the fam kicked it up a gnotch with some marinara and cheese, which is common enough for gnocchi consumption I suppose.

Of course, it's gnot just cauiflower here. There's also cassava (basically fancyish potato) and potato flour as ingredients, I guess to help hold it all together. I'm gnot an expert on such things, but, say, if the point of cauilflower rice is to enjoy a rice-like substance which is gneither rice gnor grain, then what's the point of this gnocchi? Is it to be more gluten-free than anything else? It seems to me that this TJ's cauli-gnocchi contains right about as many carbs as regular gnocchi, so if that's a concern for you, you may have to pass. Maybe that's a gknock, maybe gnot.

Sandy said she'd buy again and experiment with prep for her lunches. I could take it or leave it with this gnocchi to be honest. Kinda like uneccessary silent letters in that regard. Middlin' marks from the two of us.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Gnocchi: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's 3 Seed Sweet Potato Crackers

Every once in a while, Sonia and I will get so busy that we'll go a few weeks without a Trader Joe's run, and we'll glance in the cupboard and realize there are no new TJ's products to review. I freely admit this was one of those occasions. Fortunately, there was one product we bought a while back that hadn't been reviewed at the time of purchase: these "sweet potato" crackers. We're pretty sure this item is still available, although the post about them on traderjoes.com has already been archived. They also offered a 3 seed beet flavor that we skipped.

First off, these snacks didn't taste a whole lot like sweet potato. Barely a hint. They tasted much more like traditional corn-based tortilla chips, but with a nice seedy nuttiness. 

Likewise, they behaved like little round "chips" rather than "crackers," despite clearly being marketed as the latter. If you've tried the Sweet Potato Tortilla Chips—again, not 100% sure they're still on Trader Joe's shelves currently—you'll know that despite functioning as tortilla chips, they actually tasted noticeably like sweet potato, as observed by Russ and Sandy.

For $1.99 per box, the value isn't bad at all. There are plenty of chips, er, crackers, in the package. By virtue of their diminutive size, they work well in soups, although I'd much rather have dipped them in salsa or queso sauce like real tortilla chips. 

They're crispy, crunchy, salty, slightly oily, and as mentioned before, seedy. I think in many ways the beet flavor would probably work better, since there's more earthiness in the flavor of a beet that might blend a little better with the taste of flax, chia, and sesame seeds.

They're gluten-free and kosher, and not a bad value for the price. We're certainly not hating on them, but we've seen at least one sweet potato chip/cracker in recent memory that's a little tastier. Looks like it'll be three stars from me again and three and a half from Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 27 Layer Sesame Croissini

As I sit here pondering how to kick off this croissini review, my mind wanders to the significance of the number twenty-seven, as in the "27 layers" mentioned on the packaging. That's a lot of layers. It's referring to the thin sheets of croissant dough in these pastries. And yes, I did attempt to count them at one point. I didn't get exactly 27 because a few of the layers sort of fused to one another, but it's entirely believable that there are, in fact, 27 layers in each croissant-ish stick. 

As far as the number itself goes, all I could think of is Nikola Tesla saying something enigmatic about 3, 6, and 9 and an old Schoolhouse Rock song about three being "The Magic Number." And what does three have to do with 27, you ask? Well, 27 is three to the power of three. It's three cubed. So if three is a magic number, then 27 should be, like, meta-magical.

And then after biting into the first pastry, I realized I shouldn't have thought at all about the number 27...because "meta-magical" is a word too lofty for most members of our Trader Joe's Pantheon even, let alone these croissini. I should have meditated on sesame seeds instead. I can't remember the last time I was impressed by something covered in sesame seeds.

Now don't get me wrong, these croissini aren't entirely unnoshable. They're slightly crisp on the outside, nice and buttery on the inside, and they're optimized for hors d'oeuvre-style finger food snacking. They're not particularly flavorful—honestly, not even as flavorful and bready as a traditional croissant, if you ask me. The sesame seeds do add a touch of flavor and texture, but again, who wants to eat something that gets "rescued" by sesame seeds?

The sticks are slightly more enticing when served with a sweet sauce. We tried honey. It worked very well. It turned the croissini into something nearly baklava-esque—something more dessert-like than a plain old breadstick.

There are eight in a pack for $3.99. These would work best in a party environment with people just mulling about not entirely paying attention to what they're eating, as opposed to someone having them as a stand-alone meal, preparing to pen an online food review about them, thinking way too much about sesame seeds, and counting the 27 layers of dough.

Three stars from me (and there's that magic number again). Three and a half from Sonia.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader José's Serrano Salsa Fresca

Why is my boss younger than me?

Why can't I recognize any song on the radio unless it's tuned to the classic rock station?

Why am I more excited about my company's pledged increase to 401k contributions than its also new quarterly bonus program? Not that I'm not excited about both...

Why do I want to be in bed by 11pm, although that's rare? Why is it notable if I'm still in it after 7am, which is even rarer?

Why does my knee hurt?

And is Trader Jose's Serrano Salsa Fresca actually spicy, or am I just becoming a wimp?

I'm turning 36 this upcoming summer and it's these kinda questions I'm pondering. Growing "old" i guess...I know, I know, but it's a relative term, and so for me, I'm at least not getting younger.

Getting back to this tub of fresh salsa straight from the TJ's refrigerated section, it's a pretty potent mix. I'm actually not sure if spicy as in heat is the right word, as there's a lot of flavor coming out. Decidedly, it's a little heavy on the cilantro and garlic, so if you're not a fan of those, you're better off staying away. But there's also subtle sweetness and cooling from tomatoes, a little bite from some onions and peppers, and yeah, a good amount of heat as well. I'll admit the first bite I had seemed a bit vinegary at first, but that must have been a bad sample as none of the rest seemed that way.

Overall, there is a restaurant quality vibe to the serrano salsa. The minute little chunks and semi-wateriness seem on par with most nonjarred salsa varieties I've had at the pseudo-Mexican style joints around here in the 'burgh. That's a compliment. But after a few bites, it all begins to get a bit much, and I'm not sure if that's just me getting a little wimpy or not. I had some this morning on my breakfast eggs, and again tonight with a couple tortilla chips, and, well, let's just see what tomorrow brings, if you know what I mean. At least I haven't needed any Rolaids, yet.

Getting back to my new old man tendencies, I wasn't able to figure out how to take an adequate picture of nutritional info and ingredients, so I'll just link to it here. Didn't even need the AOL keyword to find it, so ha! Sandy and I will rank the salsa as good, not great, with me sneaking extra pointage for the use of Jose instead of Joe....I like the different characters who seem to be disappearing from the good ol' days.

Bottom line: Trader Jose's Serrano Salsa Fresca: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Banh Mi Inspired Noodle Bowl

So it turns out that Cauliflower Cookie Butter isn't a thing...yet. And it also turns out that previous cookie butter selections are already vegan. I hadn't realized.

Know what else is vegan? 

Not this salad. 

But it is vegetarian, and it's also Vietnamese. "Banh mi" apparently means "bread," which is super inappropriate, because there's absolutely no bread in this product. Trader Joe would like you to purchase a baguette separately and stuff the contents of this salad into it for an authentic Vietnamese-inspired banh mi sandwich. Or you can just skip the bread and the carbs and eat it salad-style, which is exactly what we did.

I'm down with sriracha. I'm down with tofu. And I'm definitely down with sriracha-baked tofu, and that, in my humble opinion, was by far the strongest element of this exotic salad. Apparently, it can be purchased separately at TJ's. We haven't gotten around to reviewing it just by itself on this blog yet.

I'm normally a fan of most salad dressings, but this stuff was a little odd to me. It was slightly sweet, but there was also a tanginess involved that I found off-putting for some reason. It was almost sour to my taste buds. Also, the pickled vegetables were a little too pickled for me. The noodles? They were just kinda there.

Sonia? She loved it. And I'm glad, because she downed the salad quickly after I had given up on it. I wanted to like it, but there was just too much pickley tang. I gobbled up some lettuce and srirachified tofu chunks at the onset, but most of the pieces were slathered in that dressing, so I deferred to the wife at that point. I'd give banh mi another chance if I ever came across the bona fide sandwich at a Vietnamese place, but in general, I'll stick with pho.

Sonia enjoyed each element of the salad, including the dressing. She thought all the flavors worked well together, and she appreciated that the tofu was nice and firm—it gave the salad some body. She thinks it was a little too pricey at $4.99, but other than that, she'd consider getting it again.

Four stars from Sonia. Two and a half from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Sweet Italian Chicken Sausage

I'm convinced my wife Sandy has superpowers.

Amongst her many talents and gifts, somehow or another during the week she almost always dinner ready when I come home from work. 90% of the time it's ready within five minutes of my arrival at the most. That's no small feat seeing how busy our growing girlss keep us, and no small challenge seeing as that it seemingly takes me forever on the weekends when it's my turn. Of course, she also does all the grocery shopping too. I'll admit that in the past six months I've stepped inside a TJ's maybe three times. There's just not a need to - she gets it all done, and on a surprisingly low budget too. Amazing.

So I do kinda have to take it on her word that there's not too terribly much new and exciting around TJ's these days. It's possible she's missed some stuff - I mean, just today she ran around the store, checked out, and picked up our toddler from preschool all within twenty minutes - but that seems to be the vibe. If we're missing something, help us out.

One potentially "new" product: Trader Joe's Organic Sweet Italian Chicken Sausage. I hadn't seen it, neither had Sandy until she bought it. Apparently the cashier may have said something about the sausage having a cult following of some type...is that a thing? Nonetheless, it's quick, easy, relatively lean and healthy protein that our girls would probably enjoy without much hassle, so of course we'd want to give it a try.

Man. I'll admit, there's not much to say. There's just not much to really totally describe, as there's nothing particularl that stands out about these sausages one way or another. I wouldn't even have described them as "sweet", at least not in relation to say the sausages with apples or maple that we usually get instead. The sweet factor seems to be more a sundried tomato vibe than anything else, even though that doesn't seem quite accurate either.

It's just kinda a decent, nondescript chicken sausage. Typical sausage type flavors, typical sausage type feel, typical, like, everything I guess. We definitely liked them as a family - our normally mostly meat-averse kiddos asked for seconds - but there's nothing I could pick up that made them really stand out.

I guess we'll just have to settle for these TJ's sausages being decently priced ($3.99), decently healthy, and decently tasty. In all, that's not a bad thing by any stretch. Not everything can have superpowers. They're worth a try and are a probable repeat buy.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Sweet Italian Chicken Sausage: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cranberry & Herb Supplement Drops

Now here's an exciting product for a Friday: cough drops. If you're disappointed, blame Trader Joe. He's the one that prominently displayed these on the New Items shelf during our last TJ's run. Hold on to your seats for a riveting "food" review.

First off, we've checked out at least one other product that's arguably more "personal care" than "pantry." But one might point out that these could be consumed like candy, just as the Vitamin C Drink Mix could serve as a traditional beverage.

Before you scold me for advocating the recreational use of medicinal substances, I'd like to mention that it's really darn difficult to overdose on water-soluble vitamin C, even with drops like these, which each contain 33mg of the substance. It's over a third of your recommended daily allowance, but in my estimation, one's body could glean more useful vitamin C by glancing in the general direction of an orange—but of course, the "dietary supplement" facet of these drops isn't the only reason to consume them.

There's also the soothing menthol cough suppressant effect going on here. Miraculously, neither Sonia nor I are sick <knocks on wood> after battling the Four'Easter, like many of our readers in the eastern half of the country. Still, we can tell there's a nice moderate sinus-clearing, throat-calming quality in these drops. They would most definitely come in handy during cold and flu season, which I'm hoping, at least, is nearly over for this year.

The flavor is distinctly tart, sweet, and berry-esque, and there is, in fact, cranberry juice present in the drops. I'm not sure what "herbs" we're supposed to detect here. There's nothing specific listed in the ingredients in that category other than "natural flavor." Menthol seems to dominate any non-berry aspect of the taste if you ask me. It's still a pleasant fruity flavor with minimal medicinal taste—along the lines of Ricola brand cough drops. 

The bag is only 99 cents for 15 drops. Oddly, they contain wheat. Sorry, gluten-free folks. Three and a half stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Shawarma Chicken Thighs

During my days in Hollyweird, California, a Lebanese restaurant called Roro's was brought to my attention by a co-worker. Not only was it affordable and delicious, but it happened to be situated exactly halfway between my apartment and my place of employment. 

I walked to work in those days, so I could easily pop in and out of the tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment without having to battle chaotic L.A. traffic and the tragically undersized and congested parking lot of the building in question, which I fondly referred to as "Satan's Strip Mall" by virtue of its address at 6660 Sunset Blvd—not to mention the apparently demon-possessed folks who frequented the area. 

It was there I fell in love with chicken shawarma. I never got anything else. I ate it for lunch or dinner at least once or twice a week for a number of years.

Since then, I've tried chicken shawarma from a few other places. Each was tasty, but there will always be a place in my heart for Roro's. And if you live in the Los Angeles area, but have no desire to venture into the Dark Land of Mordor, AKA Hollywood, Zankou Chicken is a close second-favorite of mine for shawarma, with locations conveniently scattered about the Southland.

And then there's this stuff from Trader Joe's. I have mixed feelings, as does Sonia.

Flavor-wise this offering lacks the tang of the chicken shawarma that I'm used to. I'm accustomed to shawarma marinated in yogurt with a good bit of lemony zing. Most chicken shawarma recipes you'll find online include a significant amount of lemon juice, and while this product does include "lemon juice" in its ingredients, I think the citrus flavor gets lost under the rest of the spices. And, alas, no yogurt. There's almost an Indian spice flavor here. Maybe it's the turmeric?

It's not a bad flavor. It's just not quite what I was expecting.

The texture is even further from my expectations. This chicken is much thicker and chewier than any shawarma I've ever had. The instructions do say to "slice" before serving—something we neglected to do with our first serving (pictured above). With subsequent attempts, we sliced it as thinly as we could, and I will say that the product works much better with smaller chunks of chicken, particularly when they're mixed with other Mediterranean foods. But still, there's just enough fat or gristle content in most pieces of chicken (at least in the package that we obtained) that it lacks the melt-in-your-mouth perfection of restaurant-quality shawarma.

All in all, the chicken still went well with Trader Joe's Apocryphal Pita and Roasted Garlic Hummus, as well as some tabbouleh. The meal wasn't unsatisfying at all, despite the product's shortcomings. I think I'd have enjoyed it far more if I'd never had good shawarma and lacked any expectations. It could be that TJ's offering mimics Turkish shawarma or some other regional variant of the Middle Eastern dish, while I'm primarily only familiar with the Lebanese version. 

Our package was $6.69, but price will vary by weight. Ours was one of the lowest-priced that we saw. We were able to get about four reasonably-sized servings out of it.

I'll be generous and throw down three and a half stars. Sonia gives it three and a half as well.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Zucchini Spirals

Like many children, when I was very young, I was turned off by most vegetables. I ate the basic stuff kids ate—peas and carrots, maybe some steamed broccoli here and there. But I remember being terrified of zucchini. I'd heard of zucchini bread and wondered what kind of sick person would ruin something as delicious as bread by baking a vegetable into it. After eating pan-fried zucchini from our garden once or twice and being relatively impressed by it, I got brave enough to try zucchini bread, too. I thought it was scrumptious. It works for the same reason pumpkin pie works: it's a unique vegetable surrounded by bread and sugar. 

On its own? It may not be quite as dessert-like, but as long as there's some oil and seasonings involved, it's certainly not bad.

Some of you might remember the carrot spirals we looked at last year. Same concept here, except with—you guessed it: zucchini!

I didn't feel like the zucchini was quite as versatile as the carrot, quite honestly—at least in terms of the product pairing with pasta sauces and that sort of thing. When I first heated the zucc spirals per the instructions, I felt the result was a bit too chewy. There was a subtle crunchiness to the vegetable, but there was also a slight stringiness. 

You can see in the picture above that the zucchini maintained its green and white colors after heating on the skillet for about nine minutes, as per the instructions. It still appeared essentially the same as when it's raw. Sonia pointed out that zucchini is a much fleshier vegetable than carrots, and for that reason, she thinks the carrot spirals are the superior product. 

When I fried the zucchini spirals in olive oil, they browned up nicely and got a bit more crisp and flavorful, in the manner of zucchini fries, albeit much longer and thinner. At that point, I was fine eating them with just 21 Seasoning Salute and a bit of extra sea salt, although I'm sure there are plenty of other sauces, dressings, and maybe even grated cheeses that might go with them.

Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Organic Spinach & Ricotta Pizza

"Pizza night."

Oh goodness, I love those words.

There's so many things that those words signify. For our family, that almost always means it's Friday night, after a long week of work, and right before a weekend full of familial nonsense like Costco runs (more pizza!) and stuff like kid birthday parties (usually even more pizza!). It means it's time to kick back and relax a little, and chow down on some comfort food. I mean, it's tough to beat pizza. Ask my kids - it's one of few foods we don't have to beg, borrow, and deal with them about. They'll happily chomp it right on down. Easiest dinner this side of mac and cheese, or ice cream sundaes. Eat pizza, pizza yum. Good times.

Yes, we love pizza and what it means...but when I think of pizza, I don't think of pies like Trader Giotto's Organic Spinach & Ricotta Pizza.

I mean, organic? Spinach? That sounds...kinda healthy. I prefer stuff like buffalo chicken or pepperoni or sausage or basically any kind of meat. I want me greasy comfort, not healthy freshness. And ricotta? I have a love/hate with ricotta. Mostly, I love avoiding big globs of it, because I hate big ol' chunks of it. It's one of those "less is more" type deals for me, for sure.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed this particular pie, though. It's not a new favorite, by any stretch, but it works. The key seems to be the sourdough crust - first of all, it tastes fantastic. It's not overly sour, but has just the right touch to offset the thin coat of marinara and play off it a bit. It also helps that the crust is thick and doughy and a little chewy while still getting a little crispy on the bottom. Sandy says she wishes she baked it a little longer than the box instructions dictated to be a little crispier, but nah, was great as is.

And as you can see, there's plenty of spinach atop as well. Nothing too overly special about that - I mean, it's just spinach, but I was pretty happy with how much there was. It helped hide the ricotta a bit. I guess if you're a ricotta aficionado, you may be disappointed with the small crumbles here and there. But for me, I was happy. With the ample mozzarella, it seemed to be more a light creamy touch here and there, without overly affecting either the overall flavor or feel of the pie too much. That's a plus.

Both Sandy and I had to shake a little red pepper flakes to liven up the spinach ricotta pizza a little, which worked great. As you can imagine, without the flakes it was a little plain tasting overall. But in all, it's a solid pie, if not my ideal version. Bonus points for it being a Giotto product - I miss all the different names, and they seem so few and far between these days. It'll be an occasional pick-up for our many pizza nights, I'm sure.

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Organic Spinach & Ricotta Pizza: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Coconut Water with Pineapple Juice

It seemed to me I'd heard once that, in a pinch, one could use coconut water as IV fluid. I opened up Google and started typing "use coconut water" and sure enough, an auto-fill option popped up that read: "can you use coconut water as IV fluid". Apparently, the answer to that unpunctuated question is... "kinda."

There are actually multiple anecdotal reports of doctors successfully administering coconut water intravenously in cases of extreme dehydration when traditional IV fluids were absent. For some reason, I'm thinking these were cases of final desperation, rather than calculated medical maneuvers, but hey, I'm no doctor. I guess the bottom line here is that coconut water is just really darn good at providing hydration to the human body.

Now I'm guessing the addition of pineapple juice is a big "no-no" when attempting to inject the liquid directly into a vein, but when ingested orally, it makes coconut water a moderately enjoyable beverage, as is the case here. And when I say "moderately enjoyable," I mean that as a relative term. I mean that people who just barely tolerate the taste of coconut water (like me) will tolerate it with significantly less of a grimace on their face now that it's available with pineapple juice mixed in—unless, of course, said person is also not a fan of pineapple juice.

Sonia generally enjoys regular coconut water and thinks this mix is even better. "It's like a really watered down pina colada," she says. I won't argue with that, though I'd emphasize the "really watered down" part. It's about $4 for four small cans, which isn't cheap. Sonia would like to point out, though, that while sick with the flu, she used this beverage to stay well-hydrated. Not only that, but there's a good bit of vitamin C in there, too. So if you think of it as medicine, the price point seems more reasonable.

Sonia gives this coconut water 4.5 stars. I give it 3.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers

My wife doesn't always believe everything I tell her.

For whatever reason, I'm struggling to think of a concise, simple example of this that I'm openly willing to share. And I'm not talking about a nefarious, relationship-straining kinda doubt. It's more the "have to hear it from someone else" kinda deal. In all, it's pretty harmless, and it's never been over something too deeply serious.

I'm gonna use Trader Joe's Crwamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers for an theoretical example, actually.

This actually didn't occur this way...but if I were somehow to get my hands on a boxful and try them out before she would, and told her that they taste like pizza, she'd probably be reluctant to try and may not even. She's not a tomato fan at all, and abhor tomato soup, so this is a product that would take some convincing for her to try.

But, I guess these soup-flavored crackers made their way on a TJ's fan page somewhere, where a few people all said "These crackers taste like pizza!" and so with that, she made sure to get them, probably mostly for a snack for our tomato soup lovin' girls, but she was pretty pumped to give them a try without any prodding from me.

I disagree, though. These crackers do NOT taste like pizza.

Sure, there's a vague similarity. The earthy soup flavors with a zesty spice flair (pepper, garlic, etc) could be construed as marinara-esque. I didn't pick up on it much, but folks with more attuned taste buds *might* be able to pick up on the asiago cheese. Primarily composed of rice flour, these crackers are light and ultra crispy with a sizable crunch, with the bonus of being gluten free.

But like pizza? Nah, not quite...it's something else...

Pizza Combo filling.

Obviously, in a different form and all, but to me, the similarity is there. Well, maybe less salty. But everything else? Yup. I'm not talking about the pretzel tube part or whatever else, but just the filling in the middle. Tomatoey with generic spice and a hint of cheese. It's there, and it's not necessarily bad, but if these crackers taste like pizza Combos, but if pizza Combos really don't taste all that much like pizza, the transitive property states that these crackers don't taste like pizza. Although I can see why people would think that way...

Am I mad? Crazy? Would this argument hold up in court? I have no idea. You tell me!

In all, our family enjoys them just fine. I like them as a snack that I feel no need to binge on, as does Sandy. But like pizza? Nah. Maybe you'll just to believe me...

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Tomato Soup Seasoned Crackers: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda and Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda

Rhubarb. 

I know you can make a pie from it, though I don't think I've ever had one. I know it's celery-esque and looks like a vegetable. 

And that's about it. That's a comprehensive summary of my personal knowledge of rhubarb up to this point. Sure, I Googled it and informed myself a bit more just now, but I never had any idea what it tasted like until I tried this soda.

Elderflower is a similar mystery to me. I assumed it was a type of flower that perhaps grows on the same plant as elderberries..? I'm apparently correct on both of those assumptions, although I'm guessing a good percentage of our readers could elaborate on the elder bush a great deal more than I am able to—and if you care to flaunt your botanical expertise in the comments section, I invite you to do so to your heart's content.

But evaluating something brand new with few preconceived notions can be a good thing.

First thoughts on the rhubarb strawberry soda: VERY unique. Like strawberry, but significantly more tart. Perfect amount of sweetness and carbonation. Just different enough from a run-of-the-mill sweet soda that it's worth a try simply for the novelty of the experience.

And the lemon elderflower offering? Similarly unique, but not to the same degree. Like a Wink, Fresca, or Squirt type soda, but with more true lemon flavor and an unexpected flowery essence. I'd generally prefer the classic citrus sodas over this Trader Joe's beverage. Sonia thinks there's something guava-esque going on here. I don't know if I'd put it like that, but I do agree that there's an odd aftertaste vaguely similar to that of guava. It doesn't taste like guava per se, but it confuses the tongue in a similar manner, if that makes sense.

We both like the rhubarb & strawberry soda slightly more than the lemon elderflower one. I wasn't expecting that going into it, since I tend to enjoy any and all citrus sodas, and products like Strawberry Fanta are palatable, but certainly not the first drink I'd reach for on a regular basis.

Considering the diminutive size of these cans, I think $3.49 is a bit steep. Each 8.4 oz can is just barely enough to quench my thirst at any given moment. I could easily go through all four in a single day. The quality here is very high. Good ingredients. Interesting flavors. Sonia and I would both consider buying the rhubarb & strawberry again for a special occasion. Sonia will go with four and a half stars on the strawberry and an even four for the lemon. I'll go a full star less than that on both.

Trader Joe's Rhubarb & Strawberry Soda: Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemon Elderflower Soda: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's For the Love of Chocolate Mousse Cake

About this same time last year, I waxed poetic about love and marriage, inspired by some heart-shaped cookies from Trader Joe's. It was easy to get inspired both because my wife, Sonia, is pretty awesome, and because those cookies were surprisingly good. I mentioned how I disliked Valentine's Day, and how silly that ubiquitous traditional heart shape is—you know, the one this chocolate mousse cake is in. I'd much rather eat an anatomically-correct heart cake, especially from one of the few stores that might just be quirky enough to carry something that bizarre someday.

In the above-mentioned Raspberry Hearts review, I rambled on about sentimental nonsense and how "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and yadda yadda yadda inspirational what-have-you and "hope is just around the corner" type jazz. And of course the universe seized the opportunity to dish out one of the most challenging and difficult years of our adult lives. 

Well, my friends, I've decided to no longer dispense "wisdom" of any kind and to pout like a toddler until the universe lets up on us for a while. There'll be no "rising above the storm" this year. If things are as difficult this year as they were last year, I'll do nothing but complain and whine and moan like a bratty child, and we'll see if that strategy tricks whoever's in charge up there into giving up the whole "refining them in the fire" business or whatever's been going on lately.

I hope you all understand that I'm mostly just kidding. And of course, our troubles are not unique. I'm well aware of that. I'm frequently reminded of the age-old quote, often attributed to Plato: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." Truer words were never spoken.

Ahem, on to the food review. 

There's a pleasant chocolate cake smell that wafts out from the plastic container right when the lid is removed. The presentation is quite nice, and the price is just right for a thoughtful little V-day gift for your significant other—$3.99.

The texture's just a tad stiffer than I would have imagined...and I won't say the cake is "dry" by any means, but it's not particularly moist, either. It tastes like multiple variations of chocolate and chocolate cake layered on one another, and it's pretty sweet, plenty choco-riffic, and would serve as an adequate dessert for the end of an average meal. It reminded us of the Chocolate Mousse Pumpkins we had, which of course are remarkably similar to the Chocolate Mousse Eggs, reviewed on this blog a couple years ago. I think Sandy Shelly said it best when she called them "kinda like a fancy Little Debbie." This product is no different, except it's much larger than a single Little Debbie snack cake.

The overall value and presentation isn't bad, so we won't besmirch it too greatly. A cake isn't a person, but we'll be kind anyway. I promise this won't be the best chocolate mousse or chocolate cake you've ever had, but there's a good chance it won't be the worst, either. Three stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.