Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes

Really wish I could, but as close as it comes to actually working, it just doesn't. Cauliflatkes. Get it?

It's almost an apt word to describe Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes. Almost. So close. It's caulifower. It's a wannabe potato pancake, which is more accurately a latke. It's a cauilfower latke.

But a cauliflatke? It just doesn't work.

Oh well.

Which is too bad, as these cauliflower latkes are incredibly decent. It's nearly shocking. We all know by now how versatile cauliflower can be, and how well it can mimic rice and potatoes...still, let's be honest. You can usually tell if something is cauliflower. If it's not in the feel, it's in the taste. Kinda like how you can sense gluten free goods more times than not, or diet sodas. There's a distinctive difference more than times than not.

File these wannabe spudders under "not." If I didn't know these were cauliflower, I would've assumed there were regular potato. The cakes are dense and heavy, with a lot of "build" to them. Granted, they do look a little different, as there's not toasty shredded bits of potatoes here and there, but eyes closed, not sure I'd tell the difference. Even when baked in the oven, as we did, there's a greasy crispiness that makes me wish we woulda deepfried them. I'll have to settle for the gratitude of my arteries.

There's a small taste difference, though, but not due to base matter. Almost every latke I've ever had contained onions in them, and weren't shy about it. No onions here. Instead there's a small amount of Parmesan cheese used as flavor. It's not over the top, but could more paltable for the anti-onion crowd, whoever you are. Weirdos.

Bake them, fry them, eat them straight, top with sour cream, serve with applesauce. Eat at dinner, at celebrations, as a party appetizer...heck even be weird like us and have them for breakfast. Nutritionally speaking, they're a black hole, but this time, less carbs, amirite? It's every bit a latke. These TJ taterless cakes aren't labelled as gluten free but I'm not seeing anything indicated on the ingredients that would have me to expect they're not...correct me if I'm wrong please. You can't say the same about the regular TJ latkes.

Small note: the box of six costs $3.99. That's one of those odd price points that screams neither screaming deal nor complete rip off, which probably means it's fair for all involved...but as much as I like them at $3.99, I'd like them even more at $2.99.

Call them whatever you want. Maybe with enough support "cauliflatkes" could be a thing...but I'm not counting on it. Count this though: double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Pancakes: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Harvest Chili

This past week, our household has been chaotic to say the least. We generally like to share a bit of our lives with you here on this blog—to mix a personal story or two in with our thoughts about whatever Trader Joe's foods we're eating. At this juncture, we're just not ready to get into specifics, but I will mention that there have been some truly wonderful, life-altering changes with us recently, as well as some terrible tragedies. They've affected our whole family, but none more than my dear wife. It's remarkable how when the tides of change are churning and this crazy world's got you on your knees, a simple song or film or photograph can generate a transcendent moment. Food can do that sometimes, too.

I'll just put it this way: Sonia is madly in love with this product. This is one of her favorite fall foods ever, which puts it high in the running for her favorite thing ever. She gobbled up her share of the soup swiftly, remarking "wonderful," "fabulous," and "amazing" as she ate. Haven't seen her this enthralled with a product in a very, very long time. She had been understandably surly and sullen just moments before, but this chili got her right real quick. She even closed her eyes, smiled, and hugged herself as if in some euphoric dreamland, punch-drunk on squash, pumpkin, and black beans, much like the dude who put the label on our tub apparently was at the moment of application. She even liked this stuff cold.

Me? I see where the wifey is coming from, and I like it, but I'm not quite as enthralled. This might be the least chili-ish chili I've ever had. It's more of a "chunky harvest squash soup" if you ask me. Chili spices? Yeah, I guess they're in there, but they're not very dominant—I wouldn't have minded a significant boost in the heat department. Also, there's not enough beans to be chili, if you ask me. I wish there were some traditional kidney beans in there. On the plus side, there isn't a whole lot of tomato flavor. There are diced tomatoes, but most of their essence gets lost in the mix. Never been big into the taste of actual tomatoes. The dominant tastes and textures here are those of squash, cauliflower, and quinoa—and a nice peppery, garlicky broth. It's certainly unique—not particularly chili-esque, but thick and tasty nonetheless.

$4.49 for a decent size tub. Plenty for both of us, either as a side dish or the main course. Five stars and several emotional tears from Sonia. Three and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals

Hey you! Like squash?

How about squash with squash?

How about squash with squash in a squashy sauce?

How about squash with squash in a squashy sauce...with a side of squash?

That's what my family more or less ended up with for dinner the other night, due to my brilliant planning. But I'll limit my guiltiness to only the last part of "a side of squash." Hey, without thinking too hard, some zucchini sounded like a great idea to go with our Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals. Probably shoulda gone for some leaft greens or something instead. Oh well.

Everything else though? That's all Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals. Sorry for the cruddy pic, I just got a new better camera but still figuring out how to take pics of shiny packages. So in case the description on the front is unclear, it says spaghetti squash spirals and chunks of butternut squash in a seasonal tomato sauce. "Seasonal tomato sauce" paired anywhere close to "harvest" with a TJ's item is a code for pumpkin puree being involved, as is the case here...pumpkin is like an honorary squash, right? So it's squash with squash in a squashy sauce. Period. At least there's none of those purported "spices" really bandying about in here.

Wish I could say I liked it more. It's not an awful product, and I kinda like the presentation. Our particular frozen package contained four small squash tumbleweed/bird nest type deals which heated quickly on our stove top, and combined well with the sauce and butternut squash chunks when added. All the squash was on, or on enough for a frozen product - the spaghetti was mild and firm, and appropriately noodley,  while the butternut was soft and sweet with a good touch of earthy. The sauce was a little sparing, as I would have liked more, as I feel it didn't offer much one way or another. Although pictured on the package as small shreds, the cheese on top came out as large flakes, and was a highlight. We love our Parmesan-esque cheeses here.

Still, there was something that felt lacking or at least not compelling. The spirals were small enough to leave us wanting more, so maybe that's part of it. Or maybe it just wasn't our favorite presentation...we're admittedly more of a roasted veggie kinda fam. Still, for relative ease and convenience, with an acceptable price tag of $2.99, the squashy spirals are a decent enough product. Just don't expect to be wowed.

Double threes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Harvest Spaghetti Squash Spirals: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Creamy Polenta

Usually, when Sonia's home, she insists on doing the cooking. I'll admit, she's a little more skilled in the culinary arts than I am, but she's so adamant about always doing the kitchen stuff, I'm beginning to think she has serious doubts about my competence. I don't blame her.

For one, she always insists on washing the skillet thoroughly between each meal. But I always make the point that the remnants of the last meal simply yield "more flavor" in whatever's being prepared currently. She disagrees. She says that idea is "just a guy thing." From what we've heard from other couples, there's not much disagreement on that point.

Fortunately, for this meal, I was home alone and was left to run amok, unchecked by my better half and her pretentious ideas about culinary propriety. There were remnants of a makeshift stir-fry in the pan. I left it there. I mean, I took out the actual food—at first. But I left the remnants in there without washing anything. It was mostly bits of onion with a few shards of green bean and a thin coating of olive oil.

I'm sure this polenta would have been delightful without the onions, green beans, and olive oil, but I'm pretty sure they didn't hurt either. In fact, I liked them with the polenta so much, that I later mixed in the actual leftover stir-fry. Delish.

But I made sure to try the polenta by itself for the sake of this review. Thanks to reader Carissa E, who left a comment on this English muffin review from 2014 encouraging us to try this polenta. She says she'd give it an 11 out of 10. Sorry, Carissa. The scale only goes to 10. 

"These go to 11," right?

I must admit, it's pretty tasty, though. It's very creamy, as the name would suggest. When frozen, the "cream" comes in the form of large pellets that look like oversized white chocolate kisses. There's lots of spinach and plenty of carrot bits. The texture is indeed creamalicious. It's thicker than a soup, but still much more mushy than solid. The carrots didn't add a whole lot to the taste, but they lend a bit of substance to the otherwise porridge-like consistency.

It's got a savory flavor, with plenty of spinach taste to it. There's a buttery/milky flavor, as well. It's a nice comforting taste, with an almost homemade-quality to it. I agree with Carissa that it's much better than the Polenta Provencale. Sonia wishes there were a little more pepper and garlic seasoning in this dish, but was very happy with it other than that. It doesn't say gluten-free on the bag, but we're wondering why it wouldn't be. Cornmeal shouldn't have gluten, should it?

Four stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal

For a few months in high school, I worked at my local Boston Market. It was an okay job - first and foremost, all the free cornbread I could ever want - but man, there's a few things that, close to twenty years later, kinda stick with me. Like the barrel of some sort of acid used to "clean" all the rotisserie skewers. Gross, hold your breath when walking by. Or how my assistant manager there regularly lit up while in the kitchen...during dinner rushes...while prepping food. That "smoked" turkey on the menu wasn't false advertising.

But another Boston Market memory came to mind while prepping Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal. You think all the side dishes there were freshmade? Bahahahaha, that's hilarious.  Nah, all the mashed potatoes and green beans and mac n cheese and whatever else was bagged and either steamed or boiled before being brought out...

...which is exactly how I made this Indian dish, in only a slightly more traditional method than nuking in our microwave. I literally submerged the package, as shown, in a boiling pot of water to warm up this shelf-stable lentil stew-like dish. I guess it's only weird if it doesn't work.

The tadka dal certainly works, as far as my tongue can ascertain. I can't tell you how authentic it is or isn't, but I can tell you both Sandy and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Tadka dal, if you're not familiar, is a fairly common spiced lentil dish in Indian cuisine. What we both enjoyed most was the warm, welcoming "glow" of the spices. I'm not sure how else to explain it. While somewhat spicy, it wasn't straight up heat, but there's not a complex depth to it either. It's not the same as other spices that you'd expect from, say, a tikka masala. Curry plays a part, but I'd wager on it being a bit heavy on the turmeric, which is just fine by me. You can see how yellow this stuff is.

The lentils are, well, lentil-like. What is there to really say about them? But they add earthiness and body to the creamy tomato broth base. There's enough lentils that it didn't even really seem all that tomato like, so that's a plus in Sandy's book. She might not even realize there were tomatoes in it until she reads this...I guess we'll find out. In any event, we both wish we had some naan to help get every last bit of the tadka dal into our belly.

Speaking of wishing for naan...the tadka dal is really more a side dish, or at least in need of something else to fill out to a full meal. We went cross-cultural with falaffels, but at least have some rice on hand to serve alongside.

Bringing one thing back: make note of the "creamy" aspect. Yup, sorry vegan lentil-lovers out there, there's milk in the ingredients here. From what I can tell from a quick Google search, many if not most tadka dal recipes can be or are vegan. So there's a potential knock.

For $1.99, we were happy. It's definitely repeat purchase-type material for us. If this TJ's tadka dal were a side dish or option at an Indian buffet, we'd be happy. Just get it out of the bag before bringing it out. Double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Indian Fare Yellow Tadka Dal: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Giardiniera

All I can think of when I see this product is that Iggy Pop track from a few years back: Gardenia. I realize it's not exactly the same word, but it's close enough that I get that bizarre, oddly-catchy chorus stuck in my head.

"Bizarre and oddly-catchy" wouldn't be entirely inaccurate if you were describing these veggies. Although the word "giardiniera" is foreign to me, the concept of spicy, pickled vegetables is not—peppers and carrots in particular. Sonia introduced me to the Mexican version—the La Morena brand—fairly early on in our relationship, and I fell in love with them. They're advertised simply as "pickled jalapeno peppers," but the small can contains carrot slices and onions, as well. La Morena has much more flavor and heat than this Trader Joe's product, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Things like pizza and pasta don't always beg for mouth-searing spiciness in the same way that many Mexican dishes do. That's when these pickled veggies come in handy. They'll spruce up just about any Italian dish that needs a little extra color and flavor—and even most American dishes for that matter.

The veggies are surprisingly crisp and crunchy considering they've been floating in liquid for a good while. The green and red peppers are noticeably limper than fresh specimens. It's the carrots, cauliflower, and pickles that flaunt an unexpected crispness. Some of the cauliflower pieces were large whole florets. I wouldn't have minded them in tinier fragments.

The liquid is predictably briny, but there's a pretty decent balance of the pickled flavor and natural veggie taste. For $1.99, this product makes a nice handy sprucer-upper to have on standby. I probably wouldn't recommend them as a stand-alone snack, although, I guess there are plenty of people who eat pickles that way, and well, there are pickles in here—pickled cucumbers, anyway. So if you'd like to expand your pickled veggie horizons, you should totally check out this jar of giardiniera.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

P.S. - Where are you, Giotto?

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 Cauliflower Tabbouleh

Despite my familiarity and affinity for most Middle Eastern cuisines, I've only had tabbouleh once before sampling this cauliflowerized version from Trader Joe's. I remember liking it all right but not becoming obsessed with it like I did chicken shawarma. Nevertheless, the "Levantine vegetarian salad" is very popular among various Middle Eastern cuisines, and is nearly as ubiquitous as shawarma, pita, and hummus in ethnic restaurants here in the US.

I like traditional tabbouleh just a little more than this offering from Trader Joe's, but not for the reasons you might assume. The primary difference between this tabbouleh and one you might find at your local Lebanese restaurant is that they've substituted bulgur wheat with cauliflower, rendering a product that is not only vegan, but also gluten-free. As a result, the taste is slightly less nutty—less bready, if you will. But both Sonia and I agree that the cauliflower affects the texture of the tabbouleh significantly more than the flavor. The whole dish is soft and wet to begin with, and if anything, the cauliflower makes it softer—but it also lends a sogginess to it that might be off-putting to some.

The flavor is nice and fresh, citrusy, and subtly oniony. This dish reminds me very much of pico de gallo, but with cold riced cauliflower mixed in. And like pico de gallo, this tabbouleh can be used with Mexican dishes as well as Mediterranean ones, or it could simply be served with tortilla chips as an appetizer. Tell your guests it's "Mexican-Middle Eastern Fusion," even if it's just because you didn't have pita bread on hand.

That brings me to my next point: like pico de gallo, this product is full of raw tomatoes. I don't remember the tabbouleh I tried long ago containing so many pieces of tomato, but I guess it must have, since they're one of the main ingredients in almost any tabbouleh recipe. I'm not a huge fan of raw tomato, and I'm sure I'd have appreciated the flavor a little more if there weren't so many in there. I did my best to eat around them and pick them out and give them to Sonia the tomatophile, who was happy to gobble them up by themselves or mixed in with the rest of the tabbouleh.

This product works as a side for Mediterranean foods, as a condiment for chicken dishes that might need spruced up, or as a dip for chips, crisps, or pita bread. I'm sure it would do well as a substitute for tapenade—you could surely use it to top off bruschetta. I'd throw this on top of burritos or nachos. Eat it with fish. I could go on...

Accessible to vegans, vegetarians, and the gluten intolerant, TJ's has provided a very versatile dish here. $3.69 for the tub. And yet another Trader Joe's cauliflower product gets the thumbs up from the WG@TJ's team. Three and a half stars from me. Four from Sonia.

Bottom line: 7.5 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 Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit

This probably doesn't come as any sort of huge surprise or shocker, but...salad, in general, doesn't really excite me.

Most veggies are perfectly fine. I can eat broccoli, Brussel sprouts, squash, etc all day long. At the continued shock of my coworkers, I'll happily eat plain raw spinach at my desk. Aside from beets, off the top of my head, there's not a single vegetable I can think of that I don't like...still, salad leaves me ambivalent at best.

Maybe it's mixing up veggies. Maybe it's my usual distaste for many salad dressings. Or maybe it's just kinda the boring hum-drum that I find most salads to be, especially of the pre-packaged variety.

All that to say, I was kinda excited to try out Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit. Don't let the name fool you - slaw? Psshhh. It's salad all chopped up in shreds.

I wish I didn't get my hopes up so high.

There's nothing inherently wrong with the slaw kit. But there's nothing overly right, either. It's the same usual base blend of carrots, broccoli stalks, cabbage and kale in roughly equal proportion to one another. That part is good, but formulaic enough now for TJ's kits that it's not exactly meant as a heap of praise either. It's just kinda a given at this point. Fresh, crisp, crunchy, all that excellent stuff...

...but moving on to what should be the exciting stuff, right? The extras and mix-ins! This is where salads make or break it. First up: dried apricot tidbits! Always a fun add...if there were enough to go around. Not this time. We got only a small spoonful which is hard to split up in multiple meaningful portions. A small nice touch, as were the pepitas, for a little crunch and all, but again nothing too remarkable.

And the dressing? Ugh. "Tahini orange" it says. So sesame, with a citrus flair, so it could work, but there's also this vinegar-y presence that kinda muffs it all up. Much like my three year old when choosing between dinosaurs or trucks for her night-night pull-up, it's just so indecisive and kinda frustrating. Like, it should be good, but instead just gets in its own way. Sandy said it kinda tastes like nothing. I disagree - it tastes like something, just I have no idea what it should be. And instead of tying up the whole salad as a nice cohesive dish, it kinda makes the salad a turnoff.

Oh well. It's not a terrible price at $3, and I appreciate the ampersand in the title for what it's worth. They seem to be disappearing from TJ product names, as are the different Joes from around the world. Times are a-changin' I guess. But my general ambivalence towards salads is not. Both Sandy and I give it a pretty middlin' score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Tahini, Pepita & Apricot Slaw Kit: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Cheesy Trees

It's funny how snacks marketed for children often use animal shapes: Goldfish, Teddy Grahams, and of course, classic animal crackers like Barnum's Animals...

And I'm not saying you couldn't pull it off, but if you were throwing some fine holiday soiree, it would be a little weird to put giraffe and elephant-shaped crackers out to enjoy with wine and fruit, for example. However, if said crackers were shaped like evergreen trees, nobody would bat an eyelid.

And if there was any doubt that these trees are alluding to Christmas trees in particular, there's a spiel on the packaging that starts with "O Tannenbaum." 

Furthermore, this product flaunts a particularly wintry theme on its packaging, including a fox with a scarf and a rabbit wearing gloves. There's evidence of snow on the ground, and even the songbirds are bundled up with earmuffs and knit caps.

I'm not sure why cheese-flavored tree crackers are particularly seasonal, wintry, or Christmassy, but it works somehow. And indeed they do pair well with a nice Cab. They boast a strong, sharp cheddar flavor, but their texture is relatively thin and delicate. They're buttery to the touch—completely covered in real cheese. They necessitate napkins. And as you can see in the photo above, the depiction of the crackers on the box is pretty close to their actual size.

Unfortunately, about half of our trees were broken at the time of consumption, which might be a bummer if we were concerned with presentation or were attempting to impress guests. But luckily for us, it was just Sonia and I gobbling up the crackers by ourselves after a nice hike with our poorly-behaved pets.

After wolfing down a good portion of the bag, a bright lightbulb appeared over Sonia's head. 

"What is it!?" I exclaimed.

"Tomato soup!" she replied.

She scrambled over to the pantry and parted a row of chicken noodle and lentil and produced a lone can of Progresso Tomato Soup. She held it high above her head and The Hallelujah Chorus mysteriously poured out of each corner of the room as a brilliant, pure white light filled our house, its source unknown.

She proceeded to heat the soup and served it up in two bowls, which were swimming with tree-halves just moments later. And it was heavenly.

Sonia was enthusiastic about the trees from her first bite to her last. She gives them four and a half Christmas stars. I liked them just fine, although I don't think I'd snack on them just by themselves on a regular basis...but I'd never discourage Sonia from keeping some on hand, just in case I get a hankering for a bowl of tomato soup again. Three and a half Christmas stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cornbread Stuffing Mix and Trader Joe's Kettle Cooked Turkey Gravy

Stuffing: Both a noun and a verb. Particularly this time of year. Discuss.

I know, I know....this particular review of Trader Joe's Cornbread Stuffing Mix and Trader Joe's Kettle Cooked Turkey Gravy woulda been a little more timely and helpful last week, particularly before that big ol' Turkey Day holiday last week. Sorry, but we kinda busy...doing nothing. Nada. It was WONDERFUL. I love Thanksgiving and all, and usually it's a big get-together with dozens of relatives and a verifiable smorgasmicbord of all sorts of different dishes and desserts and everything...but not this year. Kept it lowkey. Watched the Macy's parade and some of the dog show on TV at Sandy's mom's for breakfast, came home, took a rest, and made Thanksgiving dinner for just me and my girls before watching Elf as is family tradition.

And since for those family Thanksgiving dinners I was really never really asked to bring anything more than salt and pepper, or to chip in a little bit for the turkey (which my dad always seemed to do for me), Sandy and I really didn't have great top secret family recipes to make or do, so we kept it simple, hence our purchase of those two Thanksgiving staples.

First up: TJ's cornbread stuffing. Call it filling if you'd like...I'll think you're odd but won't comment out loud. If you stop and think about it, stuffing doesn't really sound like a tasty idea: warm, salty bread mush. But dang it if it's not some classic comfort right there. Trader Joe's boxy blend is pretty top notch. We had no bird to stuff, so we went for the oven prep method and went lighter on the water in the hope of more crunchy tidbits. That's exactly what we got. Now, the ingredients list "white bread" and "corn bread" before mentioning the word croutons...I didn't notice any white bread morsels, so maybe these were carby combo cubes? The spice blend was pretty classic too - rosemary, onion, garlic, etc added a really nice savory touch as one would expect. It is important to note that 1) it's not gluten free 2) there's chicken broth, so not vegeterian/vegan friendly and 3) there's mushrooms in there - which we didn't notice but post a sleeper allergy concern for some. I may be wrong, but I think a GF-friendly stuffin' made with veggie broth and no mushrooms wouldn't have sacrificed much in terms of flavor or satisfaction while being able to be enjoyed by more folks. That's my only real knock. Better than Stove Top (although when reheated the difference is less apparent), open to any additions (raisins, apple bits, bacon, etc), fills a void, pairs well with cranberry sauce...

Or gravy. In our case, TJ's Kettle Cooked Turkey Gravy. Wish I had much to say about this gravy, as I grew up a big gravy fan (both literally and figuratively) and I've yet to find a commercial gravy that approximates my mom's (even though I know hers is just jarred mixed with pan drippings - there's something else about it I can't figure out). TJ's gravy is good, not great. I mean, I coated my turkey with it and piled up a stuffing/mashed potato mountain just to make a huge gravy crater in the middle, so I can't say I disliked it. Maybe the fact that it's a little thicker and gloopier than what I'm accustomed to is why. Certainly tasted like decent turkey gravy, but nothing really stood out. It's probably open to some customization and doctoring, which I probably could have done but eh well.

So, in case you have to bring something easy to another holiday feast, or just want a simple classic taste for dinner, you can do a lot worse than this combo this time of year. We're higher on the stuffing than the gravy, but together they make a good team. We're thankful for the blessing of good, warm food and family, and hope to continue to enjoy that this holiday season. We hope for that for you as well.

Bottom lines: Trader Joe's Cornbread Stuffing Mix: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons. Trader Joe's Kettle Cooked Turkey Gravy: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Turkey Cranberry Apple Salad

This year, I'm thankful we found something pseudo-appropriate to put up the day before Thanksgiving. I mean, this tub of Turkish delight—er, excuse me—turkey-ish delight is a great little mini Thanksgiving meal all its own. It's kinda like a Gobbler Wrap without the wrap.

My wife, whom I'm very thankful for, loved it even more than I did. She holds this snacky salad on par with the classic Wine Country Chicken Salad. I wouldn't go quite that far. But it's close.

Chunks of apple and cranberry lend both tartness and sweetness to the blend. There are huge cubes of high-quality turkey and generous amounts of mayo here, too—and just enough sage to make it interesting. It's perfect for slathering on crackers, making sandwiches, or eating straight out of the tub. At least around these parts, the only three meats you'll find with regularity are beef, pork, and chicken, so I'm always grateful to have another choice on hand.

I wish turkey were more common year round. I mean, sure, there are turkey hoagies here and there. But I'd choose turkey burgers more often if I could. Likewise, why isn't turkey salad just as common as chicken salad or tuna salad? Are we scared we'll run out of turkeys come November? 

No matter. I'll enjoy this turkey salad while it's around. Like many foods this time of year, it's a little on the fattening side...but let's all pretend it's not since it's the holidays...and that will be our little secret.

Likely many of you are traveling today, pigging out with family tomorrow, and doing some Christmas shopping over the Black Friday weekend, so I'm very thankful for whatever readership we do get right now. Hope you all have safe and happy Thanksgivings! And I'm thankful that you enjoy reading our blog.

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

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes

Now for something completely exciting...potatoes.

When packing a lunch for school for our kindergartner M, either Sandy or I like to draw her a little note for her to see at lunch time. A little something to make her laugh or think is cute or whatever to let her know we're thinking about her. And by either Sandy or I, I usually mean Sandy, because I can't draw worth a crap. Recently, we've been on a Thanksgiving theme kick, and just so happened that I had to do one for her last week on a particularly busy morning...

I drew her a potato.

I mean, kinda cute one, maybe...or at least recognizable as potato, with haphazard Kawaii style eyes, a smile, with the words MASH ME. M at least said she liked it and smiled when I asked her, but yeah, she was not too excited about her potato.

We're not all that excited about these Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes, either.

It's not that it's a bad potato. It's....just a potato. I don't get it. I don't understand what the deal is. Maybe I'm unenlightened and all that...but seriously, these hback taters seem to be nothing more than a spud half-slashed by Wolverine and stuck in a box and frozen. Sure, a little butter and salt, but the outcome tastes not unlike a regular baked potato that you may or may not want to dress up a little more yourself.

Unlike other prepared veggie side dishes, you can't even really make a convenience argument here. Here's how to make your own for a fraction of the cost. That...doesn't really look complicated at all. Granted, these TJ taters take about half the time, so they must be at least partially baked before getting iced over...which reminds me. If you do buy these, bake for a little longer than the instructed 30 minutes. My spuds had some ice-cold nether regions on them still after half an hour. No bueno.

Kids liked them, we liked them...we're partially Irish, of course we're gonna like potatoes. But there's nothing special or cool or Trader Joe's-y or anything about these taters. Not even like a funky/cool spice blend. They're just partially baked/partially sliced potatoes, in a freezer box, and I'll be darned if their existence didn't make me try to think of potato/David Hasselhoff puns for at least half an hour and I can't think of a single one. Do you understand how frustrating that is? There's got to be at least one. Please. Help me.

Not a complete failure, but far from a success. Between all of us here, can't muster any excitement or a higher score. Matching 2s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Hasselback Potatoes: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing

As any TJ's fan worth their Hawaiian shirt knows by now, cauliflower can do a lot of stuff. The real question is, can cauliflower do stuffing?

Well, guess we're gonna find out with Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing.

There's a lot to like about the concept here. Gluten free, vegan, no carbs for all you cave people out there. That's not an insult, I dabble with the Paleo diet here and there. But, when November rolls around, with Thanksgiving on the horizon, there's something to be said for good ol' traditional stuffing, whatever that means to you and your memories.

And there's something just a little amiss here with the TJ's cauli-stuffin'. It's hard to pin down completely what it is, but both Sandy and I noticed it.

Our best guess is, the stuff doesn't taste or feel like stuffing. It's...almost more like a pilaf. The cauliflower rice never loses its inherent ricey-ness and feels grainy, not soft and warm and inviting like stuffing. That being said, there's a lot to like. The product really tries hard to replicate traditional stuffing tastewise, and it almost pulls it off. The carrots, celery, and onion are on point, and there's copious handfuls of tart dried cranberries that make an excellent little touch - better than raisins or apples.

Still, it's off...and again I point to the cauliflower. Perhaps cauliflower has a "cleaner" taste than most bread, so all the flavors that are normally somewhat tempered poke through just a wee bit more. That seemed most noticeable with the onions. Also, look at the ingredient list and some unusual suspects. Tomato paste? Maple syrup? Never seen those in a stuffing recipe before. And they're not particularly noticeable, per se, but maybe they knock the flavor just off kilter enough.

This stuffing's decent enough, though. If you want an alternative to the usual salty carb bomb that is traditional stuffing, by all means, go for it. No denying it's healthier and more nutritious and all that - I mean, it's all veggies - and it's almost as good as the "real deal." But there's too much comfort vibe missing here. I think that's what it comes down to. It's only a few bucks in the freezer section, if you're lucky enough to find it - been a hot seller from what I hear - so I'd love to hear some more takes if you've tried it. But for me and Sandy, we just can't muster much enthusiasm.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stuffing: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Curry Cauliflower Quinoa Salad

It's official. Cauliflower can join coffee, mango, pumpkin, and cookie butter as the fifth great love of Trader Joe. He's clearly got an obsession.

Cauliflower is a product that has proven its extreme versatility repeatedly, particularly in the past year—plus it's arguably the healthiest of "The Big Five." 

Quinoa is still working on its star status, but it has played some interesting roles in the past, too, generally as a supporting ingredient, but rarely a main attraction.

Curry is...well, curry is usually awesome...and this product is just another great example of its awesomeness.

Throw cauliflower, quinoa, and curry together, and you have this unique creation. I'm not sure why it works...or even if most of you will agree with me that it does. But I devoured this tub like it was going out of style.  Sorry. That's a really weak mixed metaphor. But yeah. I devoured the tub like it was...expiring soon...even though it wasn't. That's a better metaphor. But it sounds even dumber for some reason. You feel me, though? I loved this stuff.

There are a lot of calories in there, for what is essentially Indian-spiced rabbit food. But curry always packs a high calorie count. I guess I'd rather be eating curry powder and canola oil than some goofy trans fats, though. The quinoa and cauliflower were just so fresh and hearty that I just kept craving this salad over and over. It was very filling, and I think you could space this small tub out to even more than three servings, as suggested on the packaging, particularly if you're just having it as a side dish or a between-meal bite. It makes a great tide-me-over, pick-me-up type snack. If you're having it as a stand-alone meal, like for lunch or whatever, then three servings is probably too many to expect from the tub, however.

The curry isn't overpowering. It's there, but there's still plenty of room for the nuttiness of the quinoa and the caulifloweriness of the cauliflower to come through. What is that actually called—caulifloweriness? Gardeniness? Plantacularity? I don't know. But it tastes more like actual cauliflower than many of TJ's experimental cauliflower derivatives, and that's not a bad thing if you're okay with the taste of cauliflower.

Sonia thoroughly enjoyed it as well—like four and a half stars kind of enjoyment, her highest score in quite a while. Her only complaint is the price. $3.99 for the tub. It's not outrageous, but she thinks she can somehow approximate the mixture herself by purchasing quinoa, cauliflower, and curry individually. Seems like a lot of work to save a buck or so. But if you're so inclined, go for it, wifey.

I give it four stars. Again, I don't know if this will have the universal appeal that some other Trader Joe's cauliflower offerings have had—I'm guessing there will be a significant faction of haters on this one, but I'll go out on a limb and tell you that if you think it sounds good at all, you should probably give it a try.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stir Fry

Trader Joe's has cauliflower filling the shoes of rice, pizza crust, mashed potatoes, and burger patties, among other things. Here, it's reprising its classic ricey role, but this time, it's part of a complete stir fry meal—well, complete if you're fine eating stir fry sans meat, or even fake meat of any kind. Surprisingly, I was more than happy with it that way. Sonia was too.

Not only is it full of peas, corn, and peppers, but there's already a good bit of savory flavor thanks to the blend of tamari, onion, sesame oil, and ginger. I had to look up "tamari." In this case, it's soybeans, salt, and spirit vinegar. Then, I had to look up "spirit vinegar." Is it related to spirit gum? Is it really that close to Halloween? We haven't even started pumpkin pandemonium yet. Turns out it's a vinegar that's distilled from the ectoplasmic residue of ghosts and otherworldly beings. Oh, no wait. That's what I assumed it was before I looked it up...it's actually...well, here's the link I found. You can read it yourself if you're as culinarily ignorant as I am...ahem, was.

The blend of veggies is very well balanced against the base of riced cauliflower. In our case, each veggie was pristine, whole, and was extremely high quality in both taste and texture. The combo of seasonings is subtle, but goes a long way toward making this a stand-alone side dish. I wasn't even craving extra salt or pepper. There's something surprisingly addictive about this product. I mean, I thought the same thing about the riced cauli by itself, but this particular mixture is even more enjoyable in some ways.

We even tried adding it to some leftover food from the local Chinese place since we had run out of white rice. It worked surprisingly well with my Kung Pao Scallops. I'd be willing to bet it'd go just fine with less exotic selections like beef or chicken, too.

A normal bag of riced cauliflower will run you $1.99 at TJ's, and this offering costs exactly a dollar more. Couldn't you simply buy a bag of mixed veggies and stir it into a bag of riced cauliflower while altering the amount of veggies to suit your personal taste? Sure could. And it would probably cost about the same, or maybe even a little less. But as far as pre-mixed concoctions go, I can't imagine a much better blend—certainly not a blend with more universal appeal than this one. It seems pretty safe to me. If you like mixed vegetables and riced cauliflower, you're probably not gonna hate this.

Four stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.