Trader Joe's Some Enchanted Cracker

Whenever I hear the word "enchanted," no, I don't think of the 2007 Disney musical starring Amy Adams—I think of The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. You know, the one from Back to the Future, where Michael J. Fox has to get his parents to hook up so he'll eventually be born in the future so then later he can go back to the past and, you know, get his parents to hook up? And that, in turn, makes me think of one of the funniest stand-up bits I've seen in a long time. There are some swears, so I guess it's NSFW, although now that everybody works from home, we don't have our bosses standing over our shoulder judging us for whatever we're watching online, right? If you're working on company equipment, however, you can better bet they're monitoring every keystroke, every time-wasting YouTube video, and every unsolicited Zoom call or Hangouts convo or whatever nonsense you do to waste time when you're supposed to be working. If you're reading this blog, for example, you can be darn sure they know about it. Big Brother and all that—which is where society at large is heading anyway these days.

Wow. That's some aimless rabbit-trailing right there. Where was I? Ah yes, The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. That makes me think of tuna fish. Tuna's something enchanting from under the sea, right? And tuna salad goes excellent with these enchanting crackers. There. I think that's the connection I was trying to make.

Know what else goes with these crackers? Lotsa stuff. Just about any cheese you might have on hand, cream cheese spreads, smoked salmon, chicken salad, cold cuts, veggies, charcuterie...you name it.

The crackers are super versatile and highly snackable. They're flavorful enough to eat on their own, but the flavors are fairly neutral, so they don't clash with any particular type of flavor you might want to add to them. The dominant taste of the crackers is nutty and wheaty. There are three types of seeds present: flax, sesame, and also poppy—so, you know, don't eat them right before a drug test. They're lightly sweet and moderately salty.

Trader Joe's Some Enchanted Cracker multigrain crackers are larger than, say, your typical Ritz type butter cracker, and they're even more crumbly. The larger size is nice for stacking multiple toppings and creating top-shelf, gourmet-looking appetizers. Or you can easily create the cracker equivalent of a Dagwood sandwich.

I'd never ever use the word "enchanted" to describe something as mundane as a cracker. But as hors d'oeuvres go, I guess this is about as enchanting as it gets. Apparently, these crackers were available at Trader Joe's at least six years ago, and they may have been discontinued and reinstated once or twice. They were available on our last TJ's run, and honestly, this is the very first time we've had them. Might be a repeat purchase. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit

Let's see here...

Arugula? Check.

Shaved carrot chips? Alright.

Crushed almonds? Ok.

Shredded Parmesan cheese? Yup.

What do all of these have in common, aside from being the base of the new Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit?

A couple things, really, that are pertinent here. First, there's pretty literally nothing I can say about any of them. These ingredients, presuming they are fresh, are darn near impossible to mess up, and nearly as difficult to stand out in any way, shape or form. I mean, I suppose an exceptionally good Parmesan could, but when's the last time you had a noteworthy bite of straight up plain ol' arugula. I'll take the under on "never." So we're not gonna talk about them, because the second thing they have in common is I can almost guarantee that not a single of those ingredients is the reason why anyone would buy this salad. Nothing exotic. No fancy fixings. No nothin', really.

Nah, it's all about that basil lemon vinaigrette.

C'mon now, that just sounds good, doesn't it? Sounds light and fresh and summery and just perfect to drizzle atop on otherwise uninspiring heap of greens and stuff. If you're like me and like to see what's in something before eating it, you'll notice a lot of funky ingredients, too - lemon and basil, sure, but also white grape juice, honey, garlic, cayenne, turmeric, white wine, and so on. Sounds intriguing, and visually, if I didn't know what it was, I'd think it'd be a slightly soupy avocado dressing kinda deal.

Take a bite of the salad without it? Meh. Get some mixed in. Even just a light coat changes that to an "ooo." It's surprisingly light with it's medium-ish consistency, bright, and helps lighten up everything. There's the lemon hit, yet with it there's a taste of almost everything else, so there's a wee bit of complexity going on. If you're concerned about spice level because of that aforementioned cayenne, worry not - it's there but only slight, just enough to give the smallest hint of an edge but not much more. I mean, my kids devoured it, so it can't be that bad. It even made mouthfuls of arugula sound like an appetizing idea. Nothing against arugula per se, as it is a fine leafy green, and certainly above regular ol' iceberg lettuce, but it's definitely lower than spinach and kale in the cruciferous power rankings.

Yeah, yet another TJ salad where I'd imagine most of us wish they'd just sell the dressing separately.

Life gives you lemons, so make lemonade. Or you can make lobster. Or maybe now you can say a basil lemon vinaigrette for a side salad. Oooh all that sounds like a tasty dinner. Good stuff, good salad, good value at $2.99 for a large bag.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Giotto's Glaze and Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts

Here's a fun, exciting review to leave you with over the weekend: Brussels sprouts. Hooray. Joy. Elation.

Honestly, I don't think I ever had Brussels sprouts as a kid. My parents loved to make me eat weird stuff that I didn't like, so I'm not sure how I avoided these salubrious spheroids of sustenance. I truly don't think I ever ate a Brussels sprout until just a few years ago. In that first instance, I had them with a balsamic glaze that absolutely blew me away. Also, they were cooked to perfection—slightly charred and crispy on the outside; warm, dense, and planty on the inside.

Sonia grew up with a French family as neighbors. When she'd visit their daughter Natalie to play, her mother would often provide snacks or meals, occasionally in the form of steamed, salted Brussels sprouts. While Natalie would happily pop the sprouts into her mouth like candy, Sonia, secretly disgusted by the greens, would choke down one or two and then slip away from the table under the guise of not being hungry.

Her view on sprouts has changed dramatically in adulthood. She now loves them when prepared correctly and served with the right condiments.

Since these True Belgian Brussels Sprouts came frozen, we might not have left them in the oven quite long enough. They weren't raw or cold on the inside, but they might have benefited from another 10 minutes or so in the heat. I like my veggies well-done.

Still, the glaze made them pretty tasty, at least on the outside. Trader Giotto's Glaze is moderately sweet and has a fermented essence from the "grape must." It's not unlike a port wine, but a bit thicker in texture. It's less vinegary than a typical balsamic dressing, but there's still a hint of vinegar underneath the grapey goodness.

We found that the glaze wanted to slide off the sprouts and wind up on the baking tray, so we reapplied it a couple times during the heating process. The finished product was definitely more flavorful that plain Brussels spouts, but we both wished we had found a way to get more glaze to stick. We applied some post-baking, and it helped a little, but the portion that had baked on to the sprouts was more flavorful and beneficial to the vegetable within. All in all, the glaze paired well with the earthy, nutty bitterness of the sprouts. We'll probably try it with oil and bruschetta in the future, and maybe some tilapia, too.

We both liked the glaze and think the price is fair at $2.99 for the bottle. Sonia may have been even more enamored with it than me, as I feel like any old balsamic dressing would serve as a flavorful condiment in instances such as this. At 99 cents, the large bag of Brussels sprouts is an even better bargain. That's a lot of nutrition for less than a buck. Your personal score for a bag of sprouts will largely depend upon your feelings about Brussels sprouts in the first place. I'm well aware many people are disgusted by them, no matter their age. In our case, Sonia will give it four stars, and I'll give it three. Sonia will throw out the same score for the glaze, and I'll go half a star higher.

Trader Giotto's Glaze: Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Belgian Brussels Sprouts: Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings

Comfort.

What brings you comfort?

There's a lot of ways to answer this, of course, and there's even a few ways I can answer this right at the time of writing. I'm sipping on a cold beer, which almost always seems right, and listening to a Facebook Live concert from the lead singer of my favorite local band, called Good Brother Earl. I think I first saw them back in about 2003 or 2004 and, no lie, a few hundred times. Helps they used to play at the Pittsburgh Rock Bottom on Wednesday nights, no cover, with $2 beers and half price appetizers. Since corporate pulled the plug on their shows about 7 years ago, after at least a five year run, I haven't been back.

But anyways, through the many stages and changes in my life over the past 15-plus years, their music has been a constant. Jeff, the singer, has been a good friend as well. And in these times, I'm thankful that he and his band's music is continuing to be that constant that they have been.

Long, not entirely connected lead up to a review about the new Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings, eh? Sorry, couldn't think of much better. It's that beer I'm telling you.

But food brings comfort, right? And what's more comfort-in-edible form than a warm soup dumpling? I can't think of much.  So there ya go.

Find 'em in the freezer section, bring 'em home, steam 'em up, chow 'em down. These dumplings are pretty darn good. There's the soft, typical noodle shell holding the whole thing together. Inside, of course, is a light broth and the pork/ginger/whatever else filling. The meat itself is mild, soft and a bit crumbly, like a meatball bent on falling apart. That's not a bad thing. There's not more than a mildly aggressive hit of ginger - there's nothing near the searing bite ginger is capable of. It's more a soft warmth feel, and is complemented nicely by a little soy and garlic.

It'd be great if it ended there. But nah.

Instead, right at the end, this sweetness kicks in. At first I thought maybe it was some soy sauce trickery, but no. It's too cloying. It's got to be added sugar. Why would you add sugar to this? Makes no sense to me, not with flavor profile. We're going for savory here. Why sugar? Can't be sugar. Nah. Let's just go check the ingredients, I'm making this up...

Nope. Added sugar. As confirmed by the ingredient list and nutrition label. WHY???

Fortunately all the good flavor business in the front makes up pretty well for the lame wannabe sweet party in the back, but still, it's a knock. Would be much better without IMHO.

Otherwise, great dumplings, bordering on being down right umamilicious. That's not a word but it shoukd be. Umami + delicious = umamilicious. Say it aloud. It's fun. There's absolutely a comfort element at work, and in these times that's not a bad thing at all. My lovely bride, our squad of shorties and I all enjoyed them pretty well, and will likely pick up again soon, even with my faint quibbles.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pappa al Pomodoro

Well, we know that in the last days a loaf of bread will cost a day's wage. When that day comes, it's time to go Mad Max on your neighbors to obtain some at any cost, because this stuff turns ordinary slices of white or wheat into scrumptious tangy tomatoey sourdoughy delights.

Just kidding about going Mad Max on your neighbors. We need to stick together now more than ever. But you should totally get down on your knees and beg them for a slice of bread if you don't have any, because it pairs really, really well with this stuff.

At first, I thought the box might contain a few pieces of bread or breadsticks, because look, right there adjacent to the soup...is a delicious-looking breadstick. But then I looked closer, and sure enough it says "serving suggestion" in the upper left-hand corner. But then I read the ingredients. Look! "Sourdough bread" is right there on the list right after "vegetable broth." I was overjoyed...until I opened the box several seconds later only to be crestfallen by the lack of sourdough breadsticks.

Maybe Italian folks already know this, but apparently pappa al pomodoro is a soup that's made with bread. I had no idea. What a weird concept.

But it's a darn good one.

After heating the product on the stovetop and pouring it into a bowl, Sonia and I sampled the soup by itself. It was very thick, tangy, tomatoey, and had just enough basil to balance the other flavors. I dipped a slice of semi-stale wheat bread into it.

Man, I don't know if I was just really hungry or what, but that was the best piece of bread I've eaten in a long time. The sourdough in the pappa al pomodoro seemed to magically transform my cheap, old bread into a scrumptious sourdough breadstick with an amazing Italian pasta sauce. We finished the bowl in short order, alternating bites of bread with spoonfuls of soup. Sonia was even more impressed than I was.

This fantastic pappa al pomodoro would work well as a pasta sauce, a pizza sauce, or as a stand-alone soup. $3.69 for two 9oz pouches. We like that it comes frozen and you can save it as long as you need to. We think this will be a repeat purchase. 

Perfect five from Sonia. I just wish it came with a couple little breadsticks. Four and a half from me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Mac

Like...couldn't you just make vegan cheese by getting milk from vegan cows? Y'know? Just feed the cows, like, only grass and hay and plants and other vegan stuff. Then you'd have milk from vegan cows, which, logically would be vegan milk, right? Why'd Trader Joe's have to go and use coconut milk and stuff?

Hopefully it goes without saying that I'm joking. But, unfortunately, in this day and age, it doesn't.

I'm here to tell you that even if you're not vegan or lactose-intolerant, this mac is edible, if nothing else. If the coronapocalypse shoppers have cleaned the local TJ's out of Joe's Diner Mac and Cheese and all the other lactose-laden varieties, you can go ahead and buy this one and at least give it a whirl. It doesn't quite have the comfort food quality of real mac and cheese, but there's a distinct creaminess and faint butternut squash flavor that's fairly pleasant in my opinion.

For vegans and dairy-free folks, this might be a game-changer. Sonia and I have tried "mozzarella" non-cheese before that we both found utterly revolting. That's not the case here at all. The unique blend of coconut milk, butternut squash, and various oils yields something unusual and cheese-esque, without trying too hard to make cheese out of stuff that is clearly not cheese.

Sonia noticed a slight oddness to the taste right at the finish. She said it wasn't like a lingering aftertaste, but just a hint of something that was a little out of place. I guess I might have noticed it, too, but it's extremely subtle. You'll get that when you mix five kinds of oils together. I'm telling you we just need to start milking vegan cows...

The macaroni were shell-shaped and larger than I'm used to in mac and cheese. They might have been slightly softer than most mac, too. You can heat on the skillet or in the microwave. We tried each one, both yielding very similar results.  

Trader Joe's Vegan Mac doesn't have a super long shelf life and needs to be refrigerated, so it's not like it's great apocalypse food. Eat that perishable stuff while you still can. After the third week of rice and beans, people will start killing for stuff like fresh mac, vegan or not. $4.49 for the tub. I think you could get four good servings out of it, honestly, especially if it's just a side accompanying a larger meal. 

Scoring this as lactose-loving non-vegans, we'll go with three and a half stars a piece.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Broccoli & Cauliflower Saute Kit

Alright, I dont  get it.  At all. Nope.

Seriously...Trader Joe's Broccoli & Cauliflower Saute Kit? What gives?

Alright, alright, alright. I can hear it right away. Major convenience points. Hey I've let quite a few items slide by based soley on that factor before - caulifower rice, anyone? - but what is this really saving here? A couple quick chops off a crown on the cutting board? Big whoop. I'm a busy boy and all, but man, if I don't have time to guillotine a couple trees and whittle them down to sizable chunks during dinner prep, it calls to question if I really have time for dinner at home or not. It takes literally no time.

As a quick aside for something purporting to both broccoli and cauliflower, there was almost all broccoli here. I like both. I want both. And perhaps it was luck of the draw more than anything else but I didn't feel like I got both. Not when there was only one sizable stalk and a couple tidbits of cauli. Not representing the caluli love there.

Ok, so what else is in the kit, because maybe that'll make up for it, right? That's a valid train of thought that unfortunately derailed once it left the station. After sauteing for a couple minutes in some BYO EVOO, there's a "marinade" packet to add and toss the veggies in. Never mind the fact that the veggies never actually marinate in the marinade, but it tastes like nothing. Nada. Tasteless. Tasted my BYO EVOO more than whatever the heck it was I added in from TJ's.

Forgot to mention the walnuts. That's alright, I almost forgot to taste them. Why walnuts? I have no answer for that. Definitely when quick cooking a 92% broccoli/8% cauliflower mix, walnuts are about 187th on my list of things I'd toss in...

...which is way higher than I'd consider tossing on croutons when it's time to serve. And then it'd have to really good croutons, like parmesany and garlicy with some character and spice, right? Definitely not boring old super generic croutons that taste like dried out stale bread and not much else. Definitely not the ultra basic bland croutons that you'd feed your kid when the only thing worse than listening to them crunch on them was whatever noise they were making previously. Definitely not any sort of crouton like, like, like....the ones present here. Disappointment croutons. Boring croutons. Crappy croutons. IRS croutons. Ugh. 

I don't understand this TJ's offering. I can buy into many things they try, and at least say an A for effort, but this? Nope. When the biggest props I can say is the veggies were still fresh and good two days before their best-by date, that's not a ringing endorsement. I don't know how much this cost. I don't want  to know (though one of your kind readers can please mention in the comments for the sake of your TJ's brethren?). But whatever it was, I know it coulda been better spent on some fresh veggies and a couple dashes of actual flavor courtesy of my spice rack.

Don't dig it. At all. The saute kit doesn't make a terrible product - our veggie chompin' crew ate it happily enough - but there's nothing here that suggest it should be a standalone product. I'm thumbing down with a one. My lovely bride, as always the more graceful one of us, will be nice and give it a two.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Broccoli & Cauliflower Saute Kit: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Honey Baguette

Valentine's Day. Bread is a way more appropriate gift than chocolates or jewelry for Sonia. She's just a bread and butter kind of gal. And French things are always fitting when it comes to romancey stuff, right? Oui. We don't really call each other "honey," but if we did, this product would be even more relevant for V.D.

Confession: we ate this yesterday, a day before Valentine's, just so we could have the review up for you all today. You're welcome.

Sonia's had many baguettes before, including a few during her visit to Paris. This one doesn't quite compare to those, but for $1.79 and the convenience of not having to travel across the Atlantic Ocean, it's not too shabby.

There's just a hint of honey sweetness and lots of rich, dense doughiness. We both feel like this loaf might be a tad denser than other baguettes we've tried. It wants to crumble a lot, too.

We picked up two loaves, because why not? For the first one we just ripped off pieces straight out of the bag. We tried it plain, with butter, and with some provolone cheese slices. But this bread really only shines after being warmed up. I nuked a few small pieces of the bread for 10-15 seconds, and they came out soft and just warm enough to melt a pat of butter on each little square of bread.

When heeding the preparation instructions on the bag, 400° for 4-6 minutes, it yields a crispy outer crust, which we did with our second loaf. The heating really releases the flavors of the bread, and the texture becomes a bit more appetizing.

Honestly, though, I think I preferred the my improvised microwave heating method over the oven. The soft outer crust might not be as authentically baguette-ish as a crispier crust, but it worked for me.

Found in Trader Joe's bakery section, this honey baguette is certainly more interesting than Wonder Bread, and it's well worth a try for less than two bucks. We didn't make any sandwiches with ours, but it could definitely serve that purpose. If you've got a bread-loving S.O., it's still not too late to swing by TJ's on the way home from work to pick up one of these, some exotic cheese, and maybe some flowers, too. 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Corn Poblano Chowder

I must have walked past this little box a half a dozen times on my last Trader Joe's haul. I'd been looking for it in particular since I'd heard good things. I finally had to ask the friendly clerk where it was. I guess I was looking for something a little bigger...? And I wasn't sure if it was in the refrigerated section or not. Turns out it's totally shelf-stable, so it was over by the cans of chili and stuff. Most of the obligatory Trader Joe's cashier conversation where they compliment at least one thing you've purchased revolved around this selection. The bagger expressed her utmost approval as well. If both cashier and bagger chime in on the same item, it's a safe bet you won't be too disappointed.

Our "use by" date was in November of 2021—a year and nine months from now. That's long enough to ride out half of the apocalypse. And this isn't a bad food to have on standby in the pantry. At $1.99, it's affordable, the little boxes are stackable, so they won't take up much room, and the chowder is pretty hearty and appetizing, as well.

Taste-wise, it's salty, savory, and creamy. There's plenty of corn flavor backed up by a nice blend of garlic, pepper, and onion. The poblano peppers are both visible and tastable in the mix. Heat-wise, they're not game-changers—the spice factor is relatively mild.

I'm truly surprised how chunky it is. I'd say corn and potato are the most prevalent elements, and the broth is plenty thick. It's the perfect cold weather winter lunch. Heats on the stovetop in six minutes, or about a minute and a half nuked.

On the down side, there really aren't two servings in the 17 ounce box. One person could put this away pretty easily, but that's generally par for the course with Trader Joe's nutrition labels. If you do consume the whole thing by yourself, you're looking at about half a day's worth of sodium. Better sea salt than some weird chemical preservative, but still. High blood pressure's no joke. 

And one more small complaint before I close: the corn had a slightly stiff texture. It wasn't awful, but there was just a hint of waxiness to most of the corn kernels that I'm not accustomed to that was ever so slightly off-putting. It won't be a deal-breaker, though. I'm still thinking this will be a repeat buy for us. The convenience factor, value, and overall flavor are all big positives here.

Sonia gives Trader Joe's Corn Poblano Chowder four stars. I'll throw out a matching score this time.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Antipasto Mediterranean Vegetables

Every once in a while, I get creative in the kitchen. Products like this one that aren't really meant to be consumed straight out of the packaging sometimes inspire me to throw a few items together and see what happens. Those spur-of-the-moment impromptu projects often end up a disaster. Just ask Sonia.

So it's fortunate that there was a recipe on TJ's site that included this product as one of the main ingredients. I modified it just a tad, as we did not have every ingredient listed, but I didn't go out on a limb this time—and in half an hour, we had some pretty delectable dip on our dinette table. In the pic below, you can see a before photo of the antipasto veggies by themselves and also the diptastic conglomeration that resulted from my little culinary endeavor. We ate it with tortilla chips, but it would also go great with baguette slices like the recipe suggests. It's much richer and tangier than traditional artichoke dip. The Superbowl's not too far away, and this recipe would be a total crowd-pleaser, in my estimation.

Trader Joe's Antipasto Mediterranean Vegetables are "semi-dried" and absolutely drowned in olive oil. I guess that's part of the preservation process that keeps them shelf stable pretty much indefinitely, but there's just a TON of olive oil in the little tray. Even after mixing them with four different kinds of cheese and lemon juice and baking them for 25 minutes, you can still tell that they're completely drenched in olive oil. Fortunately, I don't mind olive oil.

Glancing at the veggies, it appears there are mushrooms of some kind in the mix, but I think those are just zucchini slices with their edges turned down a bit. The flavors aren't super intense, but they're pleasant and vegetabley. The artichoke hearts are my favorite, followed by the zucchini, then the eggplant, and finally the tomato. I've never been a huge tomato guy. If they're cooked in some way, I'll eat them. In this case, the saturation of olive oil makes them palatable. They're nothing like fresh tomatoes in terms of taste or texture.

I did try each of the four vegetables straight out of the packaging, but they're much better as ingredients in some larger appetizer or meal. They'd be great on salads, pasta, sandwiches, or even burgers, though in most cases, they'd probably work better in smaller chunks. The dip recipe had me quartering them. I can't imagine an instance where they'd work better as the large chunks they come as, so it begs the question why they weren't cut in smaller pieces to begin with. I know, it's a silly complaint. The chewier elements, namely the eggplant, work much better as bite-sized pieces for almost any application.

Sonia and I both enjoyed this product overall, with our biggest complaints being too much olive oil and too large vegetable pieces. We're both thinking somewhere between three and a half and four stars for Trader Joe's Antipasto Mediterranean Vegetables, so we'll just go with one of each.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato

Nothing like a little comfort food to get you through the coldest parts of winter. Potatoes and cheese? How could Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato go wrong?

One Potato, Two Potato,

From the Trader Joe's,

Three potato, four potato,

See how that cheese flows.

Five potato, six potato,

It's a hearty dish.

Sev'n potato, eight potato, 

Scrumptious and delish.

As usual, there are heating instructions for the microwave and the conventional oven included on the packaging. I opted for the latter, as I was feeling less lazy than usual—kicking off the new year practicing good habits and all that. The directions simply state: "remove packaging," but don't specify if the tray that contains the dish is "ovenable," a term that Trader Joe's preparation instructions have employed in the past. I made the assumption that it was indeed ovenable, and as evidenced by the fact that the tray did not burst into flames while baking at 350° for nearly an hour, I concluded that I did make the correct choice. Also, had it not been for the tray, the veggies and cheese would have spread out all over the baking sheet and perhaps gotten a little too toasty.

What's working here: lots of big, chunky veggies, tasty and evenly-distributed cheese, a crispy, crusty outer layer, and an overall salty, savory taste, perfect for a winter side dish. The potato chunks and the places where the cheese browned a little around the edges are by far my favorite elements in this side dish.

What's not working here: too many sweet potatoes, which at first I took for carrot chunks. Oddly, they bugged me more than the mushrooms. Even though I've never been a fan of 'shrooms, there simply weren't enough of them to bother me here. Sonia actually wished there were more of them. 

The sweet potato chunks were plentiful and enormous. They should have called this Trader Joe's One Sweet Potato Two Sweet Potato, although I'm not aware of any nursery rhymes that involve counting sweet potatoes. I normally don't mind sweet potatoes at all, particularly if they're well-baked. However, I feel like the ones in this selection had an odd texture—almost spongy—and the chunks were simply too big. There was a lot more sweet potato than regular potato by my reckoning. So...I wouldn't have minded more regular potatoes, peas instead of mushrooms, and thicker, gooier cheese.

Still, despite one or two distinct weaknesses, this potato platter is a winner in my book. The overall effect doesn't suffer much from the overabundance of sweet potato—there are still some tasty bites to be had. $3.99 for four servings. 

Sonia's likes and dislikes were a little different than mine, but we'll still both arrive at the same respectable score for Trader Joe's One Potato Two Potato: 4 out of 5 stars a piece. 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Crispy Rice Salmon Bites

Whatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinnerwhatsfordinner......

If you're a guardian of some miniature trolls AKA have some young kids in the house, no doubt that's a familiar refrain. Undoubtedly it is for my lovely bride, with whom I just celebrated ten years of mostly married bliss, and I.

To combat, I troll right back. With hamsters.

Think Bubba Shrimp...except hamsters. Hamster stew. Hamster steak. Fried hamsters. Hamster meatballs. Hamster omelettes. Mashed hamsters. Grilled hamsters. Hamster flambe.  At least what's I tell them, making it up, over and over again until they stop nagging me.

Of course, they never really believe me, until I told them that Trader Joe's Crispy Rice Salmon Bites were hamster nuggets with a side of hamster sauce. The juvenile gulps were barely audible at the sound of the news.

Yeah, I can assure you these bites are definitely not hamster. TJ's does have a somewhat spotty history with salmon products but has mostly been on the upswing as of late. I think these continue the trend.

For $6.99, you get twelve respectively sized chunks battered somewhat tempura style with rice flour and spices. The breading does seem to crisp up pretty well while baking and maintain its texture without getting soggy over the fish. That's good news - nobody sane likes soggy nuggets. It does add a little bit of flavor, too, for sure, but pretty mildly so, leaving most of the flavor to the salmon.

So here's the thing. We do enjoy salmon in our family - well, 75% of our voters, at least - but mostly we do cold smoked on bagels, so actual fleshy chunks are a somewhat unfamiliar form to us. Perhaps that's why the strike me as a little bland - it may be the unfamiliarity of the protein more than anything else. There's part of me that feels I'd really enjoy chicken a lot more in this form than salmon. There's nothing wrong with the fish - it's perfectly fine - but just a bit fleshy and subtly flavored.

So that's why TJ's put in dynamite sauce! Kaboom!

What's dynamite sauce? Apparently it's like a sriracha/mayo remoulade with some soy sauce mixed in as well. I don't think it stands well on it's own - the soy adds a cloying sweetness that strips the sauce of much of its spiciness. I don't want to have a bottle of this separately. But when drizzled over or dunked with the salmon bites, it works, adding flavor that works well with the natural fish flavor without overpowering it. There's also plenty to go around. Our kids hated it - "too spicy!" they claimed, which is code for having flavor other than straight up salt - while I was indifferent. Sandy thinks it'd taste great on a burger.

Well, there you go. Serve as a hot appetizer or a side dish like we did to go along with some veggie soup. The TJ's salmon bites are a little different, and an interesting take. We'll probably buy once or twice again. Mostly thumbs up, with added points for not actually being hamsters.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Crispy Rice Salmon Bites: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Hold the Corn! Appetizers

Hold the corn! That must be a pun on "Hold the phone!" But wait, that doesn't rhyme—not even close. Ah, Trader Joe's must be making a play on "Hold the cone!" which is, in turn, a pun on "Hold the phone!" I guess TJ's is making fun of themselves. Unless this is somehow a play on "Hold the horns!" you know...like you "hold the bull by the horns," buuut that's a stretch.

The inspiration behind the title of this product means nothing if the product doesn't taste good. Fortunately, it does. Oh how it does.

The rice wrapper here is crispy, dry. The veggie-based filling is moist and fairly rich, but not overpowering in any way. The primary flavors are sweet corn (imagine that) along with some onion, the rice from the shell, and juuust a hint of spice from the red chili powder, green peppercorns, and garlic.

I could have sworn I detected the taste and texture of quinoa up in the mix, but alas, there is none listed on the ingredients. They aren't excessively greasy or oily. The nutrition info here is very reasonable, considering how utterly delectable these things are.

There's also the slightest suggestion that these are somehow veggie spring rolls that want to be dipped in a sweet and sour sauce of some kind. I might have tried that pairing if we'd had any packets laying around. Most people might not have that inclination—Sonia certainly didn't—but I'm big into condiments, and I always want to dip my appetizers in something—maybe an avocado salsa or chipotle sauce would have worked here...? I would have even slathered them with melted cheese of some kind—not that they really needed it. They didn't last long enough to be experimented upon. Perhaps we'll try them with dips upon the next purchase—and there will be a next purchase.

Served as appetizers, these will certainly make your guests ready to eat more food. The only problem I can foresee is that the only thing they'll want to eat is more of these delicious cones of corn. Each one is like a mini cornucopia, perfect for Thanksgiving...or any other time for that matter. $3.99 for 12, found in the frozen section. Two big thumbs up and a very high recommendation from this nomadic half of WG@TJ's. Four and a half stars from me. Five stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Rose Fingerling Potato Chips

Ooooh la la. Don't these sound fancy now? They're not just Trader Joe's Rose Fingerling Potato Chips, they have French Grey Guerande Sea Salt sprinkled on them! Never heard of that? Me neither! But sounds so fancy!

And look at them! They're called rose for a reason - they're pink! Well, they have pinkish swirls in them, at least. As the only male inhabitant of my household, I can attest to the fact that this only adds to the excitement of the purchase for most of my crowd, particularly the younger constituents.

Sound fancy, look fancy...do they taste fancy?

Mehhhhhhhhh.

In a blind taste test, I don't think I could tell these apart from any other crunchy kettle cooked chip. There's really nothing overly special here that I can detect. Crunchy, earthy, a little greasy, salty - yep, a good chip, for sure, but really not anything more than that.

Couple points though. First, either my local store's shipment had a particularly harrowing journey or these must be very fragile chips. I say this because the bag we bought was only about half-full, with lots of spud shards at the bottom. This seemed more than the norm. It's a good thing my girls and I like the little crumbies in our tummies because there were ample to go around.

Also: the price. It's not too horrible at $2.99, but that's more than the average bag at TJ's. It's also much smaller. Portion-wise, you're not getting as much bang for the buck as you could with other chips, which would be fine if the fingerlingers were a little more unique.

It's possible that maybe I'm just not sophisticated enough to fully appreciate the divine nature of these chippies, but neither would be my lovely bride, who is usually more attuned to those type of things. She took a bite or two and promptly labelled them as mediocre then let me and the kiddos squabble over the rest. 

We're unlikely to repurchase, as we don't buy chips too often anyways, and these were just meh at best.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Rose Fingerling Potato Chips: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Focaccia Bread

When/where/how did the term "Karen" become such a pejorative?

"Ugh...she was a real Karen."

"She's got that Karen haircut."

"I'd like to speak to the manager...oh."

We can get our laughs, but know this doesn't apply to everyone named Karen. Especially Karen, who works at the Pittsburgh North Trader Joe's, the one my family and I happen to shop at the most.

She's awesome.

Understatement? Yes. She recognizes us everytime and asks how we're doing. My kids love her. She's always full of recommendations and if she happens to be working the sample station, she'll sneak me and the kids extra. Always friendly, and it's not just to us. A few years ago, she was recognized for outstanding service TJ's by getting to ride their float during the Rose Bowl Parade.

So, when Karen sneaks a loaf of Trader Joe's Focaccia Bread into your cart and says "this one's on me," you go with it, review it, and give her a little shout out. Thanks, Karen!

Solid recommendation here. I'll admit, stuff like this isn't on our usual radar. But man, it should be. This bread is awesome.

Opening the bag lets out a hearty aroma of roasted tomato, parmesan, a little olive oil and carby goodness. It's intoxicating. And it gets even better when warming up in the oven, if that's your thing. Anticipation levels were running high.

When ready...oh man. Super crusty outside, warm soft inside, doughy, full of bite...it's got the feel that literally says nomnomnom.

The parmesan and roasted tomatoes add a mild flavor that doesn't overpower the bread. It's a light and pleasant flavor, perfect for spreading on a little butter or dipping in some olive oil. Or you can be weird like my almost five year old and put strawberry jam on it....okay maybe not that last one. Whatever, she was happy.

I'm not sure how this tastes so fresh, without there being an instore bakery, because it really does have that freshmade feel. In all honesty, this is one of the best store bought breads I've had in quite some time. The TJ's focaccia is pale in comparison to anything homemade, so don't worry Mom, your cheese bread is still king, and Sandy, I'll nom on your challah anytime. But I'm so happy with this.

This focaccia admittedly was a freebie for us, so I can't tell you a price. But I'll tell you I'm being honest in my assessment. Four spoons from both my lovely bride and me. Even the Karen-est of Karens (which our Karen is not!) can live, laugh and love with this loaf.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Focaccia Bread: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pumpkin Bisque

I've whined enough times about the discontinued tomato bisque. Amy's brand is pretty darn close, so I won't harp on about that in this post. But I will say I'm always on the lookout for a bisque experience on par with that superb—ahem, "soup herb"—tomato version.

This offering comes close in terms of quality and taste, but it's really a whole different animal altogether. It's not like tomato bisque with pumpkin instead of tomato. It is what it is, if you know what I mean. No?

Let me describe it for you. This bisque is smooth. There are no chunks of squash or pumpkin. There are tiny flecks of something—pumpkin puree I assume—but nothing to really add any body or texture. I really don't like perfectly smooth soup unless I have something to dunk into it...or crackers to crumble into it.

The flavor is shockingly sweet—honey sweet. Almost too sweet for my taste. There is a savory aspect to it, and you can definitely taste the squashy pumpkin flavor, but it needs something to balance out its sweetness in my opinion. It's creamy, and there are plenty of secondary herb flavors to keep it interesting: garlic, tahini, and onion to name a few.

Fat content? Oh my. One jar has well over a day's value of fat, saturated fat, and sodium. If this isn't one of your favorite fall items, it might not make your shopping list every time you head to TJ's just because it's on par with an indulgent dessert as far as those stats are concerned. And I should point out that this jar is more like two servings instead of the three they're claiming on the nutrition label.

After trying it by itself, I decided to mix it with some leftover potatoes O'Brien. It worked for me better than the plain bisque did. The taters added some starchiness and firmness to the texture and the flavors blended pretty well, with both elements featuring garlic, onions, and salt. It might seem an odd combo to some, but I'd prefer a potato pumpkin bisque to something totally void of veggie chunks.

Overall, it's good. It's not what I expected. Crazy sweet in my opinion. Sonia liked it a lot more than I did upon first impressions. She was torn between four and a half and four stars, but opted for the latter in the end after she glanced at the nutrition info. It took me quite a while to decide how I feel about it. I was torn between three and three and a half, and I went with the lower of those two since it's just so cloyingly sweet, especially when eaten by itself. But I must admit, it's a unique flavor: sweet pumpkin that's nothing like pumpkin pie or traditional pumpkin spice. I'd say a more fitting name for this product would be "Honey Harvest Bisque." $3.99 for the jar. 

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie

Ever buy something, thinking it was one thing, but come to find out, it's something else altogether?

Such is the case here with Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie.

Yes, yes, I know, I coulda read the package or description a little better. Heck, even the word "pie" is kinda a big hint. But for whatever reason, my mind stopped reading after "Savory Corn" and my eyes focused instead on the picture on the package. So neat...so clean...so wedgy and delicious and, well, savory looking.

It's gotta be corn bread, right?!?!?!? And on one of the first cool nights of fall, after the end of a long week and about to kick up the feet and relax and watch "Hocus Pocus" with the kids, nothing sounded better than a little easy to make corn bread to go with some homemade chili and beer. Sounds perfect.

Except....corn pie is not corn bread. Doh!

I'll give you this: It definitely tastes like corn bread. There's a certain mealiness to it, just like a good cornbread. The pie also features a lot of whole kernel corn, so there's no mistaking it, it tastes like corn. But also a little cheddar up top, and a little light peppery spice, with ample saltiness...yup, if this were cornbread, it'd be a dang good one.

But...it's corn pie.

In addition to all that, there's eggs and other stuff that make this more like maybe a souffle or casserole. It's not quite eggy enough to border on quiche. So it's kinda wet and a bit watery and super dense. The pie is extremely filling.

Really, I can get over the fact that it's pie and not bread - it was my complete lack of simple computational understanding, after all - and say all in all, I enjoyed this, with one big demerit. I baked in the over for the recommended cook time, and when I yanked it out, the top and edges were brown and simmering. Mmmmm. I cut into it...and the middle was still cold. Thawed, yes. Ready to eat? Nah. I think we ended nuking some (kids were clamoring for their movie) but when I reheated some in the oven a few nights later, I made sure it got burny all over. It was much better that way. Perhaps coincidentally, it also tasted and felt much closer to corn bread....I digress.

Good enough pie, good enough buy. For the roughly $3 it cost, it's a good value which will probably be repeated. It's a good autumnal pickup for sure on a cold day. There's no mistaking that.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Savory Corn Pie: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chocolate Hummus

There are certain things I don't ever really want Trader Joe's to come out with: banana flavored horseradish sauce, caramel baba ghanoush, hot dog ice cream, any kind of kale-based dessert, or elephant dung espresso beans, just for a few examples. I might have added chocolate hummus to that list if we had not, in fact, purchased it on our last TJ's run. 

But purchase it we did, despite both Sonia and I initially reacting with disgust. Could a combination that odd possibly be good? Sure, anything's possible. I was kinda hoping that it would be just one of those marketing snafus—you know something that doesn't necessarily sound good, but actually is good—not unlike purple yam ice cream, I guess. 

Somebody tweeted about this product last week. Of course, I can't find the tweet now, but it said something to the effect of "The chocolate hummus is great. It tastes like brownie dough." Sounded promising. I was thinking, "Well if that's the case, then why didn't they just call it 'vegan brownie dough dip' or something moderately enticing instead of chocolate hummus...?" Then they could just let us discover that it's made with garbanzo beans after we've had a strawberry or two dipped in it and we've already fallen in love with it. Everybody wins.

Dessert hummus just didn't sound appealing to me, but I absolutely love chick peas, hummus, and I don't have any major problems with chocolate, either. So we dove right in. Aaaand at first bite, I tasted chocolate...and hummus. Just in case the first bite was a fluke, I took a second. Again, chocolate....and hummus. They didn't call it "brownie dough dip" because it's chocolate hummus. It is hummus...that's chocolate flavored. And there's just not quite enough chocolate flavor to drown out the garbanzo-y hummus flavor, which, again, I love...just not when it's mixed with chocolate. It's truly very close to the unappetizing flavor I imagined in my mind when I first heard the phrase "chocolate hummus." It's a darker, cocoa-ish chocolate flavor that's not very sweet, but still characteristically very chocolatey, and in my opinion, doesn't blend very well with the earthy, legumey goodness of chick peas. 

Everybody knows strawberries and chocolate go great together. Would you ever add hummus to your chocolate strawberries? Did it ever occur to anyone to mix Gone Berry Crazy with hummus? If your answer to either of those questions is "yes," then go ahead and try this stuff. You might love it. I, however, did not.

Even the texture is identical to traditional hummus. There's a fair amount of grittiness to it. I wasn't a huge fan of the way it mixed with fruit. Strawberries, raspberries. Neither worked perfectly in my opinion. I tried it with pita bread, just because, you know...hummus and pita, right? Wrong. I almost wanted to try it with pita and peanut butter and see if that worked, but we didn't have pb on hand, and I had kinda noped out by that point anyway.

Could it ever replace Nutella or Cocoa Almond Spread? Not in our household. Not that we have Nutella much anyway, but I'd never put this stuff on par with the classic hazelnut spread for any dessert-ish applications.

Sonia? She couldn't make up her mind. The only word she could utter after I demanded she share her impression of the product was "weird." "I dunno. It's weird, it's weird," she kept repeating, as if stunned by the audacity to even create such an enigmatic commodity. If it were up to this guy, the tub would go back for a no-hassle refund. Sonia wants to give it another chance, suggesting that she'll eat it plain, one spoonful at a time, although, even as she says it, it's obvious she's turned off by the notion.

Three stars from Sonia. Two from me.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.