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 Riced Cauliflower Bowl

I move that the standard bean ingredient serving as the cornerstone of all vegan/vegetarian meals be changed from soybean to garbanzo bean. Do I hear a second? Anybody?

Not that I hate soy or tofu or other soy derivatives. I just like chickpeas better. And then when rednecks are trying to insult vegan/vegetarian men, they'll call them "garbanzo guys" instead of "soyboys." Doesn't sound quite as demeaning. Confession time: I'm originally from Pennsyltucky, so I'm still part redneck. Also, I'm not even full vegetarian. I might be more inclined if we can make that chickpea initiative happen.

Fortunately, there are delicious marinated chickpeas in this dish. There's also a good bit of soy-based tofu. Sonia thinks there's not enough of it. I disagree. Sweet potato, kale, and onions round out the veggie combo for a unique mixture of flavors. I find the tahini sauce to be somewhat acrid and acidic for my taste, while the wife is more than fine with it. 

Sonia thinks some of the vegetables are a bit too tough. I can see where she's coming from, although, overall, I think the texture is nice—particularly the chickpeas. Plenty of riced cauliflower here, too. Serves as a nice low-carb base for the dish.

For a quick, zappable, vegan lunch, $3 isn't a bad deal. The taste and texture are good, but not outstanding, in my opinion. Sonia is a little more enthusiastic overall. Says she'd definitely purchase it again. I think I'll go with three and a half stars here. Sonia will dole out four.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's ABC Bars

I'm Always Buying Crack at Trader Joe's—not literal crack, just highly-addictive substances that happen to be nice and legal. ABC could stand for so many things here. I might refer to them as they're meant to be called: Almond Butter Cocoa. Or I could ask Sonia to Absolutely Bring the Chewies on our next hike. They're definitely Addictive Bars, Creamy. They're vegan, so they're free of Animal Byproducts, Completely.

Flavor-wise, I might call these Amaretto Blast Cookies. The flavor is almondy—but it's such a sweet almond flavor, I think it tastes a bit like amaretto—though not alcoholic in the least. I think they taste more like amaretto than either almond butter or cocoa, quite honestly. Sonia thinks the cocoa dominates the almond butter slightly. I'm not sure if I agree or not. They're just sweet—but not overly so, nutty, buttery, and not unlike confectionalized amaretto. Scrump-dilly.

Texture-wise, they're surprisingly soft. I might describe the mouthfeel as A Bed of Comfort. They're definitely chewy rather than crunchy, but there's a much greater "melt-in-your-mouth" factor than, say, most "chewy" granola bars or cookies. 

They're gluten-free, so...Absolutely Buy'em Celiac-sufferers. Price-wise, ABC is easy as 1, 2, 3 dollars, with a total of six in the box. That makes them about 50 cents a piece. They are kinda small, but they're rich, dense, and more filling than you might expect. Sonia and I would put them on par with the average Clif, Luna, or Balance bar in terms of hunger-curbing capacity, with a slightly better overall value.

This is another thumbs up from both of us. Sonia will dish out her second four and a half stars in a row. Put me down for four again.

Awesome Bars, Conclusively.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Almond, Cashew & Macadamia Nut Beverage

If you're looking for a delicious drinkable dessert, look elsewhere. If you're looking for a nut-tastic vegan alternative to animal milk, this might just be the product for you.

On the plus side, the beverage is surprisingly NOT chalky. It's smooth—and it's about as nutty as I ever imagined a beverage could be. Both Sonia and I wanted to call it "creamy" at first, but after thinking about it, we realized it's a much thinner liquid than anything we'd call "creamy." Not a bad thing. Just not as thick as other types of "milk." Maybe that's why it's a "beverage" and not a "milk." Color-wise, it's...well, milky—but perhaps a bit grayer than other milks and nut beverages.

Taste-wise? It's not sweet at all—like regular cow's milk with its lactose milk sugar is significantly sweeter to my tongue than this stuff. No sweeteners in that ingredients list at all. At only 30 calories per cup, I don't exactly think Trader Joe's is targeting the cookie butter crowd with this one. 

I will say that it works well on cereal, especially if the cereal is a sweet one, or one that's already got a nutty flavor to it. It'll tone down the sweetness of a super-sweet cereal, and in the process, the nut beverage will get a little tastier with that cereal sugar on it, making it even better when you slurp the excess from the bowl. Nut-based cereals with this beverage on them shall be elevated to über-nutty status.

I was surprised to see there's very little protein in the beverage, since nuts tend to have a good bit of it. I guess all the protein gets squeezed out in the liquefying process..? 

Soy milk seems to be on the decline as far as alternative milks go. And filling the void are cashew and almond beverages. Combine those two and add macadamias? Brilliant. It's a little difficult to detect all three nut flavors individually. Sonia seems to think she detected macadamia the most. I felt like they all just blended together. At $2.29 for a quart, it's priced comparably to other alternative milk products. I probably wouldn't reach for this after a day out in the 100 degree summer heat, but I'd be perfectly happy pouring it on my corn flakes or in my coffee. Four stars from Sonia. Three from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Rainbow Wrap

Taste the rainbow, friends. Other than Skittles, this is probably the most colorful thing I've eaten in a while. Actually, I haven't had Skittles in years. This might be one of the most colorful things I've eaten period. Let's see: we've got red beets, orange sweet potato, yellow hummus and chick peas, green spinach, and a purplish tortilla. What? No blue? No indigo?

Whether Roy G. Biv approves or not, this is a great lunch for a hot summer day. It feels and tastes fresh, and it won't weigh you down too much. There are plenty of savory and earthy flavors here, and the sweet potato lends just enough natural sugar to keep it interesting.

The beets weren't overly beety. They're not pickled, so they simply lend a bit of earthy crunch to the mix. The curried hummus was flavorful but not overbearing. The chick peas? I've mentioned how I feel about chick peas before. If anything, I'd just ask for more of 'em.

Sonia wanted the sweet potato chunks to be just a tad softer than they were. They were much firmer than either of us expected, but unlike my loving wife, I was okay with it. They were somewhere between the texture of a water chestnut and that of a chunk of regular potato in a potato salad. We both see why they might want them that way—the wrap may have seemed a tad "soggy" if the sweet potatoes had been too soft. As is, they provide a little body and texture, and contribute the most "meatiness" of any of the ingredients.

Granted, we had some other snacks along with it, but just this one wrap was enough for Sonia and I to share for lunch, and it was quite filling. We're eating less and less meat these days, and feeling better about it all the time. This vegan item is $4.49 at TJ's. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Cream Cheese Alternative

It's nice when we can tell a certain group of diet-restricted readers that a product that's okay for them is every bit as good as the "normal" version. Sonia will tell you that's almost the case here. I will beg to differ. If I were, in fact, on a strict vegan diet, I would just skip cream cheese altogether rather than settle for an odd imitation like this.

Mind you, I'm not comparing this product to other vegan cream cheese spreads, because I've never had any other plain vegan cream cheese spreads. Yes, I know, I know...it's unfair to compare a vegan product with a real dairy product, especially since I'm not a vegan, but there's always the hope that it'll be a brilliant surprise like the recently-reviewed garlic spread dip was.

Speaking of garlic spread dip, it's remarkably similar in texture and appearance to this product. Come to think of it, the taste is quite similar, as well—minus the garlic, of course. And since there's essentially no flavor at all other than garlic in the garlic spread, what I'm trying to say is that this "cream cheese" is extremely bland—totally void of any true cream flavor. It's just a couple of oils mixed with salt and stuff, as well as "vegan culture." Interesting. I knew vegans had a culture all their own, and that "vegan culture is on the rise," but I didn't know you could pack that whole way of life into a spreadable condiment. Now I know better.

Just kidding. I'm sure that's referring to some kind of bacterial culture, which kind of grosses me out. I guess it's no weirder than cultures grown in cow's milk, though...which is also pretty weird if you start thinking about it too much.

Sonia had this spread with some jelly and bread and really liked it that way. She says she can tell the difference between this product and regular cream cheese, but she thinks the difference is negligible. I must admit, it does knife out of the tub and spread very similarly to traditional cream cheese. I just had it on plain bread, and I felt it added very little in terms of flavor. After consuming, I felt a little goofy, too—like one might feel after consuming too much oil. My stomach was a bit upset and began complaining audibly. That's never something I'm looking for in a condiment.

I think this is about a two star affair here for me. Sonia gives it the thumbs up, though. Put her down for four stars. Any vegans in the house? I'm curious as to how you feel about it. Let us know in the comments below.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Hi-Protein Veggie Burger

Maybe it's because of my 9th grade biology teacher, but whenever I hear the word "protein," I can't help but think of science. "Protein" was so frequently the answer to her on-the-spot quiz questions, that if you'd answer one incorrectly with "protein," she'd politely say, "No, but thanks for playing." And just about 50% of the time, "protein" was indeed the correct answer. Any other incorrect answer would be met with a gruff "NO!" along with a personalized insult of some sort, generally along the lines of, "You're out to lunch, Mr. Rodgers!" 

And heaven help those poor students who answered something other than "protein" when it was the correct response. Louise Grove's biology class was more than 20 years ago, but I'm still traumatized. To this day, "protein" just doesn't sound appetizing to me in any context.

But hey, at least the packaging doesn't read "Now infused with delicious structural components of body tissues!" I'm not sure if it would be accurate at all, but you'll never see them even attempt to advertise the presence of any other macromolecules. "Trader Joe's Hi-Lipid Veggie Burgers!" "Trader Joe's Hi-Carbohydrate Veggie Burgers!" "Trader Joe's Hi-Nucleic Acid Veggie Burgers!" None of those work even a little.

So protein it is.

I've gotten pretty good at putting personal bias on the shelf when trying new things from Trader Joe's over the years. I'm not 100% sure my aversion to the word "protein" isn't affecting me here, but there's a good chance it's minimal, at least. These just aren't the best veggie burgers we've seen from TJ's. The Vegetable Masala Burgers and Quinoa Cowboy Burgers would be at the top of my recommendations list.

There are two big, heavy veggie patties, individually wrapped in cellophane. They only give you microwave and conventional oven heating instructions. No stove-top method is listed. We heated ours in the oven. After baking, the exterior of the burgers was slightly crisp and dry, while the inside was a bit soft and mushy.

The main ingredient here is peas—or rather "pea protein blend," (YUM!) but the flavor isn't entirely pea-esque. There's something nutty about the taste, but you can also taste the black beans and a hint of garlic. The overall effect isn't particularly taste-tacular. It's a subtle flavor—some might even say "bland."

On the other hand, it's versatile enough, going well with cheese, lettuce, ketchup, and mustard—pretty much all the usual burger condiments and toppings, but in the end, I think this tastes too much like the veggie burger that red meat eaters are desperately trying to avoid. It tastes a bit like "health food" to me, and for that reason, I'll never buy it again. I do want to reiterate, though, that there are countless meatless options at TJ's that I'd happily consume on a regular basis.

Although she agrees this isn't the best veggie burger option at Trader Joe's, Sonia liked this product significantly more than I did. She liked that they were very filling and easy to prepare. Three and a half stars from her. Two and a half from me.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 4 Authentic Belgian Waffles

What's your breakfasty carb of choice?

Speaking solely for myself, it's gotta be potattoes. Hashbrowns are king. But sweet potatoes mixed in with some eggs, cheese and salsa...mmm.

But for my fam as a whole? Undoubtably it's waffles. A freezer waffle on the go is a busy weekday morning breakfast of choice for our kiddos. There's a place within easy walking distance of our house that started a weekly waffle brunch every Saturday, and if we're in town, we're there. My brother and his wife even throw a fancy homemade "Wafflepalooza" every year complete with mountains of almost every kind of homemade waffle and topping imaginable.

So...we know our waffles.

And of course, waffles aren't just for breakfast anyways. Like with what we did with Trader Joe's 4 Authentic Belgian Waffles when we used them as a base for an open faced ham/cheese/egg sandwich for dinner. Okay, that's like breakfast for dinner, so kinda cheating...but nah.

Perhaps this is just recency bias, as we almost literally just ate them, but I cannot think of a better frozen waffle I've had in quite some time. These Beglain boys are a bit thick to fit in our toaster, so instead Sandy heated them up in our oven for a few minutes, which of course worked just as well if not even better. The outcome: hefty, square doughy grids with a crisp outer shell giving way to a warm, almost creamy interior. There's a slight sweetness to the batter which plays well with the buttery aspects. Really, it's a surprisingly decent Belgian waffle, and although a serving says two waffles, really one is reasonably enough.

And there's no way to argue it's not an authentic Belgian waffle either. They're right from Belgium, not some Belgian style imposter by way of Vancouver or something silly.

 Sandy and I were pleasantly surprised by how overall decent these waffles were. And remember: we're waffle people. Our two little waffle experts weren't as impressed, though. Might have something to do with the rest of dinner (eggs are give or take) or whatever...I'm sure if we scooped ice cream atop or covered with fruit and whipped cream or did any number of other tasty waffle options that they'd be much more amenable.

These are worthy waffles to be freezer staples. Can't believe we've not had them til now. Deeeee-lish.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 4 Authentic Belgian Waffles: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

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p.s. Perhaps appropriate this week while also on the topic of waffles. 

Trader Joe's Garlic Spread Dip

"Garlic ambrosia."

That's how reader Justine described this spread.

No, not fruit salad with marshmallows, ambrosia. Ambrosia, as in the food of the gods, ambrosia. Lemme tell ya, she's not wrong. And, as reader DogMaTX pointed out, it's very similar—if not identical—to the garlic spread from Zankou Chicken. Thanks to both of you for the heads up on this product. I feel like at least one other reader brought this to our attention on our Facebook page, as well.

It's a creamy, smooth condiment that spreads like mayo or cream cheese. I'd say the texture is right in between those two, in fact: slightly thicker than mayo, slightly thinner than cream cheese.

And it doesn't fail in the flavor department either. It's garlicky—very garlicky, but simultaneously not overpowering somehow. Where raw garlic brings a heavy staccato "punch" of garlic flavor, this spread causes a gentle "wave" of garlic to wash over your tongue. It's just as powerful, but there's a little bit more of that "mmmm" factor and a wee bit less of that "whoa!" effect.

It's strong enough that you don't need to use a ton on your food, but at the same time, if you do choose to slather it on in great quantity, it still enhances the other flavors and doesn't bury them completely. We had it with tuna sandwiches, pizza, and falafel. I know it will go well with chips, chicken, fish, and other Mediterranean dishes, too. Can't wait to experiment with it. It's a fine addition to TJ's legacy of delicious condiments.

$2.99 for the tub. Vegan. Four and a half stars from me. Four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Yellow Jackfruit Curry with Jasmine Rice

Apparently I don't know jackfruit.

You probably knew that already.

My wife certainly does, bless her heart. So I was really kinda curious when she was trying to tell me that some people consider jackfruit to be kinda like a vegan pulled prok kinda deal. On the surface, that sounds kinda ludicrous to me. How can a plant be meatlike? Pssh, sounds like other crazy stuff she tries to tell me, like that Tupperware has a particular place and organizational method for storage. Yeah, right.

Anyways, in another attempt to yank my coworkers' chains, I picked up Trader Joe's Yellow Jackfruit Curry with Jasmine Rice for an at-desk lunch this week. This would have to do it, right? C'mon now.

Mission failed. No raised eyebrows. No mention of anything. Everyone was too nosedeep in gossip and TPS reports, I s'pose. 

At least I got a pretty good lunch out of it.

So...is jackfruit kinda like pulled pork?

Tough for my admitted carnivoresque self to say. Visually, I can somewhat see the similarity here - there's kinda a stringy, chunky look. In this curry's instance, though, the jackfruit gets a little lost amongst the rice. There's a soft chewy feel here and there, but not really the fleshy bite. Kinda the difference between pig and plant, I suppose.

As for the rest of the dish? Delish. Somewhat unlike the jarred TJ's yellow curry sauce, the curry here definitely has a sizable, decided kick. As in, at first, it's pretty spicy...probably about an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10. Took me by surprise at first, but once accustomed to it, the curry heat took on more of a pleasant, sustained warmth. There's a little layered aspect too - I wouldn't necessarily say complex but there's some sweetness from the coconut base, the mentioned spice, and a healthy dose of turmeric as well. The only real relief from it is the few biggish bites of eggplant here and there that the curry sauce doesn't really sink into. There's something about the bell peppers that makes it kick up a notch.

Altogether, I'll admit I was pretty pleasantly surprised by the overall wholesome goodness of this curryous dish. It was no more than a couple bucks for the tray which took about five minutes in the microwave - I would have expected (and been reasonably happy with) paying for something of similar quality from a restaurant. It's all there - good flavor, good heat, good firm rice. And it's all good enough that I want to try and make my own now, too - apparently there's a canned jackfruit TJ's sells for just this purpose? I'd be down. Sandy wasn't quite brave enough to try it herself yet, but probably will now. I'm just gonna go go out on my own here and give it some double fours.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Yellow Jackfruit Curry with Jasmine Rice: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Vegan Cauliflower Cookie Butter

Bottom line: 10 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Falafel Mix

It's been seven freaking years since our review of Trader Joe's Heat & Eat Falafel. Seven years. Goodness.

I'll spare you the spiel about how and when I discovered falafel since I covered that in the previous review. Suffice it to say that I like it, and both Sonia and I thoroughly enjoyed Trader Joe's frozen falafel offering. So how does this mix n' fix variety square up? Read on.

Shelf-stable and affordable at just $2.99 for the whole package, this mix can mix it up with the best of them in my humble opinion. The spice level was just about right, and at least when fried, the texture isn't quite perfect, but close enough to justify featuring this product as the centerpiece of a Middle Eastern or Mediterranean meal, as well as repeat purchases in the near future.

Check out the pic of the mix just by itself (left).

 When something looks this much like sawdust, my expectations automatically go down. Not necessarily because it will, in fact, taste like sawdust, but because my overactive, neurotic brain will insist that it is sawdust. Fortunately, the next step—the "just add water" step (right)—looks slightly less like sawdust and more like a gritty, hummussy paste, and the final step after frying looks shockingly like normal falafel.

I feel like the product is just a little more inclined to fall apart while being eaten than other types of falafel, but if it's being served in a pita, that's really not an issue. We had it with pita bread, this excellent Trader Joe's brand tzatziki sauce, and some hummus. It's satisfying and filling, and it's got a nice nutty flavor. Of course, when fried, the extra olive oil helps out with the taste.
 

We did try making a batch in the oven, too. It's nothing to complain about, and it's a little less calorific that way, although you do have to coat them with oil before baking them. I'm sure they pick up significantly more oil when fried. Frying them also improves the structural integrity of the product somewhat. From the oven, it's just a tad too dry for my taste.

Both preparation methods involved a one hour period for the mixture to set. Sonia thinks the frying would have been a lot simpler with a deep fat fryer, while she simply made them in the skillet.

Sonia insists these turned out better than the aforementioned heat and eat style falafel. I think I liked the heat and eat ones just a mite bit more than these, but we both agree that this product is a better value overall, making three large batches of about nine falafel balls each. The box claims there are nine servings of three balls each. Our serving sizes tended to be larger than just three falafel balls—we ate four or five in a single sitting, but there are easily, at minimum, four to six meals-worth of falafel in the package, even for larger appetites.

Five stars from Sonia. Four stars from me.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Kale, Cashew & Basil Pesto

I've never been a huge fan of pesto. I was never sure why. Something about the flavor just kinda rubbed me the wrong way. And I've often been told by readers that I'm not allowed to review foods that I don't already appreciate because my score will be unfairly biased against the product.

But this product is a prime example of why I still try foods that I "know" I don't like. In this case, like so many others, the devil was in the details. I never bothered looking at the ingredients of traditional pesto. Usually, there are pine nuts. And I hate pine nuts. To be fair, if Trader Joe's ever offers a bag of plain pine nuts, I'll refrain from reviewing those—unless it's some new species of pine nuts or ones coated in wasabi or cookie butter or something crazy like that. 

Cue the reader comments that tell me TJ's does offer a bag of plain pine nuts. And a version where they're covered in wasabi. Wouldn't surprise me. Readers, we love your comments. But anyway, I digress.

The point is that this product employs cashews instead of pine nuts. And I like cashews. And that makes all the difference in the world to me. I mean, the product doesn't taste a lot like cashews per se—I just prefer them as an ingredient to pine nuts. Also, I'm not sure that most pesto contains kale...and I like kale, too. The texture is like a mushy vegetable puree. It's thick, soft, and spreadable.

I'd eat this stuff on pasta, potatoes, sandwiches, crackers, pita, or even as a chip dip. Sonia liked it enough that it inspired another short video review. $3.69 for the tub. Four stars a piece.

 

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

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 Green Goddess Salad Dressing

When Trader Joe's offers up female-themed, gender-specific products like this one, I always have to do a self-induced Man Card check. 

I mean, one could argue that Trader Joe himself is a dude, and that nearly every product in the store has a dude's name on it. But a chick purchasing Cowboy Burgers or Cowboy Caviar? Nobody bats an eyelid. I buy Cowgirl Bark—and the female clerk that rang me up actually called me out on it. Other parts of that classic review were indeed fictional—and me calling my own review "classic" is absolutely meant to be as tongue-in-cheek as you were hoping it was. But the part about the Trader Joe's employee wondering why I was buying Cowgirl Bark instead of the "boy" version really, truly, honestly happened.

So now, when "goddess" type products pop up on TJ's shelves, to prove to myself how secure I am in my masculinity...

I send my lovely Sonia in to purchase them while I wait in the car.

I mean, I'm well aware that food-blogging about salad dressing isn't quite as manly as, say, felling mighty cedar trees with a hacksaw or driving a monster truck through a massive, fiery explosion, so I'm demonstrating some level of security here anyway, right? I've reviewed mango, pumpkin spice, and even light beer products. I'm secure as heck...right? I guess if I even have to ask you, then I already have my answer. Oh well.

Insecure or not, I must say I do like this dressing. It's super thick, but relatively smooth, and it tastes as green as it looks. It coats everything it touches, so you don't have to use much with each serving. 

It's decidedly avocado-y. There's a bright citrusy zing from the lemon juice, too—and underneath those dominant flavors is a subtle, but remarkably unique blend of garlic, spices, and apple cider vinegar. It worked very well on salad, but I think there are plenty of other applications here.

It certainly doesn't taste exactly like guacamole, but it could probably serve in the same capacity. It's delicious as a chip dip, and I imagine it would be stellar as a sauce for fish tacos, sandwiches, baked potatoes, or nachos.

$3.69 for the small bottle. Even with teeny-weeny serving sizes, it'll go fast, because you'll want to eat it with everything. No weird ingredients, low in calories, vegan. Definitely avoid if you hate avocados or guac. I wish they made a version with some heat. I'm not sure what will pair just right with it... jalapeños? Tapatio? Cayenne pepper? We'll just have to experiment. Four stars from me. Four and a half from my "goddess," Sonia.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.