Trader Joe's Vegan Jackfruit Cakes

Jackfruit. Where do I start? 

My history with jackfruit involves reading about it a couple times on the interwebs—including this insightful piece from a Trader Joe's review blog you might have heard of. I considered buying that curry dish myself after reading Mr. Shelly's post, but wound up going with something else that wanted reviewing. 

In the same way it resembles pulled pork in the last offering, visually, it greatly resembles the crab in a classic crab cake. Even the cutting open of these cakes approximates that of a crab cake. However, flavor-wise, it's much more "planty" than crabby. And the texture is a bit stringier and stiffer than crab meat. It's not unpleasant. It's just not a crab cake. Not by a long shot. No amount of crab seasonings would make me mistake this dish for an actual crab cake.

There's a moderate paprika-driven warming sensation at the back of the throat after consuming a few bites of these plant pucks, but honestly, even the spices here don't approximate the spice mix of true crab cakes. I've had potato chips that taste more like crab cakes than these things.

My initial instinct was to slap these puppies in between a couple slices of bread, top them with cheese, ketchup, and mustard, and treat them as jackfruit veggie burger patties. We were lacking pretty much all of those other elements at the time I prepared these, so I simply finished my serving in the manner of a vegan crab cake, but I still think the veggie burger route would work way better than pretending they're a substitute for crab cakes in this or any other parallel reality.

By themselves, they're not particularly flavorful, but they're not an abomination, either. There's a unique subtleness to the taste. For a vegan, these might be a viable choice to add to your regular meal rotation. I might still be an omnivore technically, but I'm always happy to find meatless products that are also free of soy.

I tried the cakes both oven-baked (preferred method) and in the skillet. I liked the skillet better because olive oil helps the taste a bit, but the oven method might yield a slightly more authentic texture.

Sonia and I are on the same page here. They're not bad, but they're no substitute for a good crab cake. As a pescatarian, even Sonia will enjoy one of those every so often. 3.5 stars x 2.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Vegan Banana Bread with Walnuts

It's always amazed me that veggies like zucchini, carrots, rhubarb, and even pumpkins can provide the base for delicious desserts. Zucchini bread, carrot cake, pumpkin pie, and rhubarb pie? Heck yes. But prior to sampling each of those goodies, my intuition told me to steer clear. I was wrong. Hey, it happens to the best of us.

Bananas on the other hand? That's just a no-brainer. Of course they would make taste-tastic treats. They're already sweet, they have an almost bread-like consistency, and they're super malleable. Since it lacks the intimidation factor of vegetable-based desserts, I've been sampling and praising banana bread from my earliest days—so the bar has been set pretty high.

This offering is obviously vegan, which means no eggs or dairy—and in our opinion, as non-vegans, this product doesn't suffer at all for want of animal products. It's soft, slightly sweet, and has a nice bready, banana-y flavor. The walnuts add a pleasant touch, although, there could be a few more of them. It might have required some kind of refrigeration, but I wouldn't have minded some real banana chunks scattered throughout the loaf.

All in all, it's comparable to most other shelf-stable, pre-packaged banana breads I've had. It's no competition for homemade or fresh-baked, but it's a pretty impressive accomplishment considering the lack of animal-based elements. This is one of the tastiest vegan desserts I've had in recent memory, and at about $4, it's worth a whirl whether you follow a vegan diet or not.

Sonia would have liked to see this product go the alternative grain route. Unbleached, enriched wheat flour is so...commonplace and humdrum, even if you don't have celiac issues. Since this bread is already flirting with that "healthier alternative" vibe, we wouldn't have minded a gluten-free offering here. Maybe in the future. I often find rice-based flours taste better to me anyway, so I'd almost always pick the non-gluten offering if it were available.

All things considered, this is still a thumbs up from both Sonia and I. Four stars from her. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

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 Chipotle Vegetable Quesadillas

"If they're called 'vegetable' quesadillas, there should be more vegetables," stated Sonia. "I want sliced-up zucchini or eggplant or peppers in there. Corn and beans aren't enough."

This is coming from the only human being I know who eats plain cheese quesadillas for a meal—nothing but a tortilla with melted cheese—on average about twice a week. If she'd add beans, corn, and chipotle sauce, I could probably live off her quesadillas, because I enjoy the taste enough, and also, I'm guessing, there'd be enough nutritional value in there.

Likewise, I could live off these quesadillas. I really like their simplicity and flavor. I'll admit we heated them in the microwave, but I was more than pleased with the result. 

Sonia? Not so much. Sometimes I think she feels threatened by Trader Joe's Mexican offerings—as if I'll suddenly ask her to never cook again and demand the freezer be stockpiled with Trader José's comida Mexicana. Where is José these days, anyway? Don't worry, wifey. I'll never get tired of your salsa de queso.

Sonia's other major complaint was the price. $3.49 for two quesadillas. I'll admit they're not exactly giving them away, but each quesadilla could stand as a meal in and of itself. That seems like a pretty standard price point for frozen foods to me. I think Sonia has a problem with it because she can make about 500 of her plain quesadillas with an inexpensive stack of corn or flour tortillas and a hunk of cheese from the grocery store, and they wind up costing about 15 cents each.

The balance of corn, beans, and cheese is on point here in these "vegetable" quesadillas, and the chipotle flavor is almost perfect, too. There's a hint of heat, but it's not overwhelming. If I were in the mood for something with a significant kick, I would have to put some kind of hot sauce on them, but for most occasions, they're perfect just the way they are. 

Sonia didn't really have any specific complaints about the taste or texture. She just thinks they'd be better with another ingredient or two. Fair enough. Two and a half stars from her. 

That's a painfully low score for these, in my opinion. Four and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Mac & Cheese

This isn't the first gluten free mac and cheese we've looked at on this blog, but this is the first frozen gluten free mac and cheese at which we have looked.

If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you'll know that Sonia and I consider ourselves "gluten-sensitive" but haven't been diagnosed with any actual conditions that would warrant a strict gluten-free diet—although non-Celiac gluten sensitivity (NCGS) is a legit condition, and eating bread can cause schizophrenia, apparently, among other things, in just about anyone. Every once in a while, we'll choose gluten free because we're not anxious to feel any uncomfortable bloating, but after reading articles like this one, I'm thinking it might not be a terrible idea to avoid gluten as often as possible.

But still, there's the matter of taste. It's hard to eat something that doesn't taste good or have the right texture. All four of us at WG@TJ's are more than happy to take one for the team and try gluten free and vegan items not out of necessity, but for the sake of intrepid food blogging. We know many of you have more dietary restrictions than we do, and we respect that. Plus, we can provide a comparison to the "normal" counterpart of any special diet items. How does this offering fare? Read on.

I'll tell you right now Sonia is a huge fan of this product. I have mostly positive sentiments, but I do have my share of reservations. Let's start with the good stuff first.

What they got right: the four cheese combo. The cheese here is delicious, and there's plenty of it. They didn't skimp. Every piece of pasta is slathered in that scrumptious blend of cheddar, swiss, havarti, and gouda.

It's a good thing, too, because the pasta itself doesn't bring as much to the table in terms of flavor. It's pretty bland. Not sure why wheat pasta tastes a little better than this corn and rice-based offering. Maybe we're just more used to wheat. Or maybe it's all that yummy, schizophrenia-inducing gluten. Or maybe it's just the voices in my head telling me that wheat pasta tastes better.

As far as texture is concerned, Sonia says this pasta is slightly more rigid than traditional pasta, and that regular wheat pasta is "more chewy than this." I felt the texture of this pasta was not unlike that of wet paper—thick wet paper, mind you, but wet paper-esque, nonetheless, however, not to the point where the dish became unpleasant or difficult to eat. It simply had a texture I'm not used to.

Finally, we noticed that, despite a generous amount of flavorful cheese, there was very little oil or grease in the product. I mean, there's plenty of fat in there. But I'm always turned off when it's the kind of fat I can actually see pooling up on the top of my food.

All in all, we'll both recommend it, but Sonia will do so much more heartily than I will. We might purchase it regularly if it were just a bit cheaper, too. $3.49 for the frozen, microwaveable meal.

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

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

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 Soy Cheese Alternative

This product contains milk. It's not considered vegan. Which begs the question: why on earth does it even exist?

Some might say it's got less calories than regular cheese. Okay. So does the soil in your back yard—and I'm willing to bet the soil is more palatable. I guess this non-cheese is vegetarian. But then, so is regular cow's milk cheese. Know what else cow's milk cheese has going for it? It's edible.

Texture-wise, I guess this stuff isn't that far off. It feels pretty similar to traditional mozzarella, but with a detectable amount of tofu-type texture as well.

Buuuut flavor-wise, this is one of the worst things I've tasted in my life. It's difficult for me to describe the flavor. The only other things I've ever had that come close are soft, moist dog food pellets that I tried many years ago. Yes, I sample dog food from time to time...<ahem> but that's neither here nor there. The bottom line is that both Sonia and I found this product entirely uneatable. If you disagree, that's fine. Feel free to share your thoughts below. I'm sure someone will tell us there's a way to cook it or to prepare it that makes it okay, but I, for one, cannot fathom ingesting one more bite of this vile block of bean. This is a big "nope." Going back to Trader Joe's for a no-hassle refund. Half a star a piece on this one. Absolutely revolting.

This "cheese" made Sonia very sad. Please watch and like her short video review to make her happy again. 

Bottom line: 1 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 Spinach & Kale Bites

Trader Joe's Spinach and Kale Bites are about the size of golf balls. I know because we've had a golf ball kicking around the house for the past few weeks. During a walk through a park near the Jersey Shore, our male dog, Alfred, discovered one. He picked it up, carried it with him, and has been inseparable from it since. At least a few times a day, he drops it at my feet, wanting me to throw it for him. It's a bit grass-stained from being tossed around on our freshly-mowed lawn so often, and it kind of resembles these little veggie appetizers. That same dog has an affinity for almost all green vegetables. He loves spinach, kale, lettuce, broccoli—pretty much anything we give him to try, but oddly, he was only moderately interested in these kale bites.

But this isn't a pet food review. This is a people food review. And the people in this house are fairly impressed with these little green appetizers.

The flavor isn't too far from that of creamed spinach or a cheesy spinach dip. There's a decent amount of parmesan cheese taste, but there's also a good bit of egg, yielding a flavor not unlike that of a frittata or quiche. There's a good vegetable-base to the taste, as well, but there's enough of the heavier stuff to keep it interesting as an appetizer. 

The texture is different, though. It's creamy and soft, but the whole "ball" is held in place with panko breadcrumbs. The spinach and kale are shredded into small pieces, so there's never a point when it tastes or feels like eating a salad. The overall vibe here is decidedly "snacky" or "hors d'oeuvrey."

Once again, the baking time went well over TJ's suggested instructions. I basically had to double the recommended time in the oven—and the product was MUCH better with more cooking, in my opinion. Apparently, this is a trend. There are a couple comments on my last post noting that others have observed the same thing: many Trader Joe's products wind up needing significantly more time in the oven than the packaging indicates. 

First world problems. What are you gonna do?

$3.99 for ten bites. Pretty standard. Sonia was quite enamored with the taste of these li'l buggers. Four and a half stars from her. I'll admit, they were tasty, but I don't think I'd buy them on the regular if it were just me. Still, a respectable score is in order. Three and a half stars from this guy.

Bottom line: 8 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 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 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.