Trader Joe's Kettle Cooked Chicken Soup

I'd say "just like Mom used to make," except my mom never did much cooking due to chronic illness. Incidentally, the date I'm composing this blog post is the one year anniversary of my mother's memorial service. 

I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer, but the past couple weeks have been one of those stretches in life that calls for some home-cooked (or at least home-cooked-esque) chicken soup for the body as well as the kind for the soul—just in time for my annual spring cold, too. We bought this soup before my little bug set in, and it's almost like my body got sick on purpose just so it could be soothed by this kettle-cooked container of chicken cheer.

I'm not sure about the logic of using a plastic tub for this product, as opposed to a can or a glass jar of some kind. I'm not complaining. It just seems unusual to me, especially since they're going for that home-cooked angle. At any rate, it's unique. As you open the packaging, little globs of chicken stock stick to the plastic safety seal under the lid in a rather unappetizing way. But once you get past that, what lies beneath seems much more inviting.

At first glance, the soup looks nice and chunky. There are decent-sized pieces of both white and dark meat chicken—and not like weird disc-shaped pieces or perfect cubes either, as one may find in other "chunky" soups. These little angular pieces of chicken look like shapes that might have actually been carved by human hands. Or maybe TJ's is employing robots that can realistically imitate the beautifully imperfect slashes and slices you might find in a cauldron of homemade soup. Either way, I like it. Also, there are plenty of carrot, parsnip, celery, and onion bits, too—with an emphasis on the carrots.

The broth is nice and sea-salty, but not overly so. It's flavorful, and it blends well with the other ingredients, although it could almost stand alone as a soup just by itself. A delicate medley of herbs, including garlic, parsley, pepper, thyme, and bay leaves, rounds out the taste of this impressive down-home delicacy. I wouldn't have minded a little more chicken in the soup, but honestly, compared to any other chicken soup I've ever had, this product delivers at least as much of the palatable poultry. So no complaints here. Four and a half stars from me. Four and a half from Sonia, who adds, "This is like really good deli soup." She's not wrong.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seafood Paella

Sonia has a few quirky allergies that come and go mysteriously. One is to mushrooms. Although, that particular sensitivity didn't apply when it came to the Portobello Mushroom Fries. Another one of her fun "come and go" allergies involves certain kinds of shellfish. Maybe. We've figured out she's okay with crab and lobster. But she usually plays it safe with things like clams, oysters, and scallops...except when my dad orders the fried oysters and she takes a couple bites. Maybe she's grown out of the allergy and maybe she's not as sensitive when the food is prepared a certain way. Who knows? But it took some convincing to get her to try this paella. She finally agreed, but only on the condition that I take all the mussels out of her portion.

That was just fine by me, because I really liked these mussels. They came out nice and soft, but not too chewy. The "calamares" were by far the chewiest ingredient in our bag. I've had squid before that was not this chewy, but really, it wasn't horrendous—just a tad more rubbery than I would have preferred. The rest of the textures were wonderful and blended together seamlessly.

South Jersey is full of fresh seafood, but I haven't seen many places around here that offer any kind of paella. In fact, the only other time in my life that I've had proper paella was in Spain. There was a quaint sidewalk cafe in Madrid where I tried this "national dish" of España. It was a while back, but honestly, I remember not being impressed. It was much soupier than Trader Joe's offering, the vegetables were stringy, and I felt it lacked flavor. They might have given me a bad batch on purpose, though. They didn't seem fond of non-Spanish speakers there. <Sigh.> Six and a half years into a marriage to someone whose first language is Spanish, and I'm still trying to learn it.

But back to the paella. It's good. It's complex, flavorful, and not-at-all-fishy. Seafoody? Yes. Fishy? No. I'm not sure how authentic it is, but I certainly prefer it to the only other paella I've ever had. Ironically, this selection is a "product of France," not Spain, according to the bag. Eh, close enough, I guess. Four stars from me. Three and a half from my better half.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower

From my childhood, I have what my lovely bride interprets as a bad habit on major holidays: namely, not really eat anything until the big dinner itself. You see, it's not a bad strategy when "holiday dinner" is at about 1 p.m. or so, so skipping breakfast isn't that huge of a deal, and come meal time, you have plenty enough room in your belly to eat your fill, and to be too full for dinner. Totally works because that's how I grew up. But on her side of the family, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners and the like are more towards the evening (5 p.m. or so), making this strategery much tougher to employ. Not to say I haven't tried...but every holiday with a later big meal, I get the speech: "You're not going to starve yourself all day until dinner time! You're gonna eat something! Set a good example for the kids!" and so on.

And so it was this past weekend out here in the 'burgh. Easter dinner, our house, 5 p.m. Got home from church, she started launching it yet again...blahblahblah...yes dear, alright dear, I ran 5.5 miles that morning so kinda hungry anyways...

...and then she pulled out Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower from the freezer. Game, set, match. Stop twisting my arm already, this looks good!

As the name implies, what we have here is a bag of frozen lightly breaded cauliflower florets with some spicy kung pao sauce to stir them all around in. The camera somehow ate the picture we took of the finished product, but the picture on the bag is a more than apt depiction of the vibrant veggie vittles inside. Except...most of the blossoms are freaking huge. Ginormous, probably a whole serving itself. That's not entirely a bad thing, but they do present a textural variant that can be difficult to account for in preparation. Naturally, the stemmy sections retains more crunch and stiff fibrous feel, while the actual "trees" sections are kinda all over the place. Some were done roughly right, with a good bite, while others seemed smooshy and almost creamy due to being just way too soft. If they were smaller, I'd think it'd be easier to prepare them in a more even manner. It didn't inhabit us too much, but I could see it being a potential issue for some.

As for the sauce, I didn't care much for it straight up (yes, I tried it). It seemed a bit too cloyingly soy sauce-y, with a little tang of pineapple juice and a tickle of heat poking out.  However, once on the slightly crispy/greasy cauliflower, a lot of the soy tendencies mellowed out, while the spice amped itself a smidge. By the end of my bowlful, the heat definitely kicked up several notches from where it started. The breading itself is barely worth mention, except to say it was a fairly adequate medium between the sauce and veggie.

Overall, this particular Trader Ming's offering is a go...I'd feel slightly better recommending it if it cost $3.99 or so instead of $4.99...but chances are it'll be a repeat purchase for when the vaguely Asian food/don't feel like paying for takeout bug hits (which is often enough). Sandy offers up a four whereas I'll slide in a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Black Bean Rotini

Foods that are supposed to be black: Well, there's not many. The seared outside of my steak. Black jelly beans (my favorite). Black olives. Black mission figs. And that's about all I can come up with. Oh, Oreos.

But foods that aren't: Much easier. The inside of my steak. Toast. Eggs. Milk. Easter ham. And the list could go on and on....

...and at some point, it would probably involve pasta. Black pasta? That's, well, unusual, and sounds like some sort of joke gone wrong.

Until now. There's Trader Joe's Organic Black Bean Rotini, made only out of black bean flour. I wasn't even aware that black bean flour was a thing, but well, I've been wrong before.

Spoiler alert: These spirally noodles taste 100% identical to black beans. I mean, perhaps a little beanier, in some ways, because there's probably some magical ratio of 10 beans to each one noodle. But there's no mistaking the taste, these are very strictly black beans in pasta form...by what kind of wizardry is that even possible? What a crazy world we live in.

If you take a look at the picture we snapped of them, you can probably imagine the texture a little bit as well. Probably the first thing I noticed is these noodles were noticeably drier than most of their somewhat distant semolina brethren.  This wasn't just on the surface, where they didn't seem to retain moistness as well as regular noodles, but also carried through in the bite, contributing to a grainier, perhaps slightly chewier mouthfeel. Which makes sense - I mean, it's beans in some sort of condensed form - and with that expectation in mind, it wasn't completely unwelcome. But I can understand it being a little offsetting for some.

Eating them straight, I didn't particularly care for them...but black beans to me are more of an accompaniment dish instead of main feature. So instead, we made them up for some taco pasta which was a great idea - the flavor played perfectly into the rest of the dish. Which brings up a good point - I'm not entirely sure I'd eat these noodles straight up with some marinara or whatever else traditional pasta flavors, just because they are too strongly beany.

Sandy and I enjoyed them and will probably pick them up again, but these legumey linguinis probably won't be our new normal. There was just a little bit too much resistance from the kiddos about these, partially because our 3.5 year old M was disappointed to find out they weren't chocolate like she so desperately hoped for. Anyways, we're both hovering around a 3, but I'll toss in some bonus pointage for novelty and innovation.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Black Bean Rotini: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Thai Sweet Chili Veggie Burger

There's a song a few years old that I really enjoy named "Daylight" by a dude named John Mark McMillan. Go ahead and take a listen if you'd like. Sounds kinda Springsteen-y, doesn't it? Now, I'd be willing to bet that at least 95% of you have never heard of this song, or of John Mark McMillan, which is fine...but pretty much everyone has at least a vague idea of who Springsteen is and can recognize songs like "Born in the USA" and "Hungry Heart" and whatnot. Where am I going with this? Follow me here. If Springsteen were to release a version of "Daylight" that sounded 100% identical to McMillan's, it'd be hailed as a classic, a return to form. Dad rock fan boys (hey, me included) would be buying it in droves and Rolling Stone would probably slobber all over themselves in praise. Instead, because it's by a dude named John Mark and not Bruce, it toils in obscurity.

So what makes something great isn't always the product....it's the marketing and the packaging. Ya follow me?

Trader Joe's Thai Sweet Chili Veggie Burger (why singular?) reminds me of this thought. Sandy, who's keeping calorie tabs, scanned the barcode on the box and instead of TJ's, it popped up as a Dr. Praeger's product on her phone app. Google confirms such a thing as a Dr. Praeger's Thai veggie burger exists, and it's mentioned (although not detailed) on the official site so yeah, probably a Dr. Praeger product. Seeing a Dr. Praeger Thai veggie burger on the shelf, I'd probably pass right on by and not notice. Put the TJ's name and package on it instead, and both Sandy and I couldn't wait to give them a try. Suckers.

All that to say, it's a pretty decent veggie burger. No, it's not going to replace a regular hamburger if that's what you're in the mood for. The patty is mostly rice and carrot based, with some edamame chucked in, so they're not even going for a textural approximation here. Having one of these heated up via microwave and also one baked in the oven, in a rare twist for me, I prefer them microwaved - alittle more moist and palatably pleasing that way. The oven kinda dried them up to a crispy outside, mushy dry inside akin to veggie scrapple. Some onion chunks also add a little character here and there. For taste, it's honestly pretty straightforward, without much complexity or flavor layers like most decent Thai fare. I didn't really pick up any sweet chili flavor from the patty - whatever is there is pretty subtle and would easily be overpowered by any cheese, toppings, or bun. There's a slight bit of residual heat, but not enough to get your knickers twisted. Instead, it mostly tastes like garlic, spices, onion and greenery mixed with rice, which is nice but not quite the kick I was looking for, either.

My ambivalence towards these Thai veggie patties is easily outweighed by Sandy's exuberance. Indeed, they're practically perfect for a reasonably healthy, super easy, and fairly decently priced ($3.69 for a four pack) lunch option. Bonus points for being individually frozen and packed. We had them one night, and was going to review them, fell asleep instead...and when I went to revisit them just a couple days later, I found she had the rest for lunch. There was no twisting her arm to lay down her money and play her part on her return trip to TJ's for more....everyone's got a hungry heart. Four from her, 2.5 from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Thai Sweet Chili Veggie Burger: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Jacques' Tarte à l'Oignon Alsatian Style Onion Tart

If you like onions, you'll undoubtedly like this onion tart. Why? Because it's nothing but a boatload of caramelized onions on a bed of buttery bread. Is that a good thing? Yes...if you like onions.

From the moment we peeled back the plastic wrapping, that pungent, oniony fragrance filled our entire kitchen. Even standing five or 10 feet away from the product, it was still noticeable—and possibly even overwhelming, particularly for onionophobes. Good thing both Sonia and I like onions.

We've noticed that the scent of onions on one's breath is vaguely offensive only if you have abstained from the consumption of onions. If you've been eating them too, then it's not so bad. Who wants to kiss someone with onion-breath, except perhaps someone else with onion-breath? Garlic possesses similar qualities.

We heated the product per the instructions, but felt that it came out a little underdone. We were both quite hungry at the time, so we bypassed the option of putting it back in the oven and ate it as it was. It was still delicious, if perhaps a little doughy. We both agreed that the more thoroughly cooked parts were superior in taste and texture. The little bit of browning and crisping we had around the edges and corners was very welcome. So, if anything, I'd say err on the side of overcooking this product just a tad.

The crust is very similar to a pizza crust. There aren't many surprises there. As mentioned before, the onions are caramelized and also fairly creamy. I'm not sure if this would make a great stand-alone dinner just by itself, but as a side dish, it adds a nice, classy international element for under $4 (although TJ's official web page says something about zombies and clowns potentially changing the official price tag). This product is actually imported from France. Sonia and I have both been there, although never together. On our next visit, we will most definitely make a stop in Alsace Lorraine. 

Sonia liked it even more than I did. Four and a half stars from her. I think it deserves a four.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jicama Sticks

Sonia had purchased this product on one of her solo TJ's runs, so it was a surprise when I found it on the kitchen counter. "What are these Ticama Sticks?" I asked. Just then, I noticed it said "Jicama Sticks," with a "J." I had been thrown off by the peculiar font TJ's chose. 

So I re-phrased my question to: "What are these Jai-camma Sticks?" butchering the product name like a true 'Murican. Sonia's reply came back with the correct pronunciation. "Oh, the Hee-comma Sticks? They're really good! I used to eat these growing up. My mom would give them to me when I was sick."

They're basically just run-of-the-mill root vegetables, similar to radishes or turnips, but sliced into long, narrow sticks. When you Google the phrase "jicama tastes like," the top two auto-fill choices that pop up are "like apple" and "like dirt," a not so subtle clue that there may be two distinct camps when it comes to jicama appreciation. I'll agree the texture is very similar to a fresh, crisp apple, but I must admit, when it comes to taste, I fall squarely in the "tastes like dirt" category.

I can appreciate fresh root vegetables: potatoes and carrots are great, radishes are nice in salads, and even beets have their place, but jicama? Meh. Not for me. Sonia loves it, though—at least most of the time. Must be a Latin/Hispanic thing.

I'm a fan of almost anything with a few drops of lemon juice and a dusting of chili powder, but even that combo couldn't redeem these things in my humble opinion. Sonia describes jicama sticks as "nutty and lightly sweet." She's got a great imagination when it comes to jicama apparently—although she did dock some points in this case because Trader Joe's selection was "not as sweet as the jicama (she) grew up on."

Sonia's going to go with a 3.5. Even though they're not the greatest representation of jicama, she's quite impressed that TJ's carries them at all. I'm tempted to go with one star, but I'll go with a 2 since they're healthy and nutritious, cheap and convenient.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's A Complete Salad: Kale & Hemp Seeds

Happy New Year!!!!!!

Two lucrative industries come January 1: Gyms and salads. Not a bad idea after all that holiday splurge anyways. For the latter, Trader Joe's has been making it easier with their A Complete Salad line to have a healthy, tasty, delicious salad ready to grab, rip, and gobble down, and the newest entry, Kale & Hemp Seeds, is not an exception.

Abundant kale with a little red cabbage. Almonds. Dried minced dates. A couple big shards of parmesan cheese. All topped with a light lemon vinaigrette that nicely ties everything together. To be honest, I didn't notice the hemp seeds much if at all - they don't taste like much, and any crunch could have easily been an almond instead. But they're in there, and probably good for you, so there you go.

Our only real knock was the lack of mix-ins. So much kale, and plenty enough dressing, but a lot of bites were just those two ingredients. Really, doubling the nuts et al would have been welcome. Still, for $4.49, it made one heckuva good dinner salad that if inspired differently would have great with some grilled chicken or shrimp tossed in. Sandy also would have preferred a couple varieties of greens instead of straight-up kale as well. No matter, pretty darn good as is.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's A Complete Salad: Kale & Hemp Seeds: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Sauerkraut with Pickled Persian Cucumbers

2015: A year of a lot of achievements and milestones. Turned 33, celebrated sixth anniversary with my lovely bride, had a third and a first birthday in the house, hit the 100 pound weight loss mark, three years of the daylight job I tolerate, five years of the moonlight one I love (hint: this one!) complete with new podcast, and one, big, large, very expensive roof replacement job (ugh!).

On a much smaller scale of importance, but much more pertinent to this here review: I've learned to really like sauerkraut. Truth be told, I've spent most of my existence trying to outright avoid the pungent cabbage concoction that had me gag at the thought of it. but then: one night, at Hofbrauhaus, I forgot to mention I didn't want it as a side, so out it came. Now, I'm a believer in trying something you don't like every once in a while, just to see if you still don't like it, so I gave it the ol' college heave-ho....delicious. Then had it again on some kielbasa while apple picking when I "forgot" it might be on there. Then again at a church potluck. Then, on a whim, when out at Penn Brewery, the German-inspired brewery here in the 'burgh. Each time: Yum. Go figure.

Anyways, since it's New Years, and sauerkraut is a time honored tradition that's been with us longer than Dick Clark (I miss him more each year - go away, Ryan Seacrest), here's some Trader Joe's Sauerkraut. In the refrigerated section for $3.99. Of course, it being TJ's, it can't be played straight, hence the "with Pickled Persian Cucumbers" part tacked on. Also, unlike many store brands, this is raw instead of being heated to prolong shelf life before being schlepped in a can, therefore retaining a lot of the good bacteria that our tummies like after a weeklong Christmas cookie binge.

Well, that's all good and all, but how's it taste? Very...pickle-y. Especially those cucumbers, which are chopped up button style and intersparsed throughout the shredded cabbage thicket in each jar. Those bites straddle a line between cucumbery sweetness and garlicky wallop which can take you by surprise on first bite. The cabbage part isn't quite as pungent, but still packs a sharpness amidst the firm, crunchy shreds. Naturally there's a pretty decent amount of salt in here, but the garlic pokes through quite a bit, especially when any cucumbers are involved, making this a fairly different kinda deal from any other sauerkraut I've had, which admittedly isn't much, but still.

I could not pay Sandy to try sauerkraut. She just won't. But much to my surprise, her mom (who lives with us) did. She's...how do I say this?...very used to her foods being a certain way, and so, she bristles at most Trader Joe's offerings because they're not what she's used to. A shorter way to say this would be "picky" but that doesn't quite explain the depth this goes to. Yet, she tried this without much hesitation, when I asked her if she'd like to so she'd know if she needed to procure her preferred sauerkraut for New Year's. It had a little much garlic for her, but she liked it enough that we'll be splitting the rest of the jar come pork roast time. 3.5 from her. Maybe in 2016, I can slowly continue the conversion process....I don't like sad Germans, so I'm going with a near perfect 4.5 for this sauerkraut.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sauerkraut with Pickled Persian Cucumbers: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Butternut Squash Parmigiana

Isn't this a fall item, you ask? 

Perhaps. Butternut squash does seem rather "harvesty," but in actuality, it's a winter squash. And when it's parmigianafied and topped with crunchy amaretti, it's downright delicious.

After reading the box thoroughly, we discovered that the included tray is, in fact, "ovenable." Thanks to TJ's, that word is now part of the American lexicon and we shall no longer have to thread together really awkward phrases like, "can be put in the oven confidently without fear of bursting into flames." So we did. We ovened the tray. And then we ate the dish straight out of the tray. One person could easily consume this dish by him or herself, but hey, it's the holiday season and sharing stuff with people you love is all the rage apparently.

It's hearty, flavorful, and slightly sweet. I'm not sure what we were expecting, but Sonia and I were both very pleasantly surprised when we shared this double-serving tray of gourmet butternut brilliance. I guess cheese, squash, and cookie crumbs were the last three things either of us would have ever thought to merge into a single dish. But somehow it works. 

To describe the taste to you would be extremely difficult, since I've never had anything quite like it before. It actually tastes like its constituent parts, but they blend together oh so much better than I would have ever imagined.  It's a bit on the fattening side for a vegetable-based meal, but if you're an adventurous eater, we think it's absolutely worth a try. I'm sure we're bound to get some dissenting opinions on this one, but as for Sonia and me, we're fans.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza

Quasi-confession time: I had some behavioral issues in my formative years. More than most kids. Lots of fights at school and crap like that. One time, in fifth grade, I (rightfully so) got slugged square in the jaw and had a permanent tooth busted. Got it fixed at the dentist and was told no solid food for at least a week. Well, then, applesauce, Carnation instant breakfast, Jello, and milkshake time then, right? Wrong. My folks got me...baby food. And rightfully so. And perhaps still even rightfully so, stretched out a few days past the week we were told - you know, for "nutrition's sake" and "dental structural integrity assurance" and all. Had nothing to do with teaching some young punk a lesson, I'm sure. Nothing at all.

I bring this up in relation to Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza because when I say I know what baby food tastes like, I know exactly what I'm talking about. I gagged on that stuff almost every day. I'm not sure what was worse, the smell or the taunts of my peers at the cafeteria table. I swore to myself then and there if I ever had kids, I'd never feed them baby food from a jar - and over 20 years and two kiddos of my own later, that is still true.

And while these gyoza weren't quite as bad as those squatty Gerber jars...they were fairly reminiscent. I'm not quite sure what it was. I generally do well with squash overall - spaghetti squash has become a favorite, I have no problems with roasted, either. Maybe it was the smushy texture. Or maybe it was the taste, too - it just seemed extra sweet, somehow. There's some added ginger and honey, which sounded good, but don't poke out flavor-wise nearly as much as the sheer squashiness of it. Maybe it was the particular blend of squash, butternut and kabocha, which to my knowledge, this was my first encounter with it. Good ol' Wikipedia says kabocha are a strong and sweet variety, and unrelatedly, is apparently revered as an aphrodisiac in some pockets of the world. Not that you'd put that in a baby food, but maybe if you want to make...I'm stopping there.

The rest of the gyoza fares only mildly better. For some textural variety, there's some small carrot bits and some edamame mixed in, which seem a somewhat odd choice. As is the whole wheat wrapper, which just adds a somewhat unnecessarily heavy feel to the whole package. Honestly, the whole concoction kinda felt and tasted like some outcome from a TV show like "Chopped" where the ingredients in the basket were whole wheat flour, edamame, and baby food, without much more added. I mean, this would be about the best one could do with such a mix, but that doesn't mean it'd be entirely satisfactory, either.

It's not just me in the household who didn't really like them. Sandy first turned her nose when she opened the package, noting an odd super-squashy scent. When it came time to dine, we both took our first bites with all the faith and good vibes in the world...and kinda scowled. The only way we made it through our plateful was dousing them in some "Red Dragon" to overpower the squash. Our toddler, M, kinda made a face but bravely soldiered through the bare minimum we allowed her. Baby B (almost not a baby any more!) seemed to enjoy them the most, appropriately enough. Then again, she eats anything at this stage. While we're fans of most of TJ's other gyoza offerings, I think we all agree these will not be a repeat purchase. Matching 1.5's.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Butternut Squash Gyoza: 3 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Autumnal Harvest Creamy Pasta Sauce

Very nice use of the word "autumnal" here, TJ's. Very nice indeed. Now let's see if you can work the word "vernal" into the title of one of your Spring 2016 products...

If you guys have been reading the blog for a while, you know that Sonia and I love pumpkin (especially Sonia)—and furthermore, despite a recent review or two, that Russ is a pumpkin-hater. On an upcoming podcast episode, though, he makes the very valid point that there are many delicious non-pumpkin items that appear on the shelves of "Pumpkin Joe's" this time of year. This quality product is a prime example of something that might slip through the cracks if you're wearing those pumpkin goggles too tightly.

But not to worry, there's pumpkin in it. It's not strictly a pumpkin product, though. Similar to the recently-reviewed Harvest Salsa and some other pumpkin salsas we've seen, our favorite over-sized orange gourd is blended seamlessly with tomato and butternut squash, among other things. Despite tomato puree and pumpkin puree appearing above butternut squash puree on the ingredients, I still think this tastes more like butternut squash than anything else. Flavor-wise, it's savory, subtle, and it's absolutely scrumptious. There's a beautiful mixture of spices rounding out the taste, including garlic, rosemary, cayenne pepper, and sage. It's a very mild spiciness, though.

As far as texture goes, it's not too thick, and not too thin. It's very creamy and smooth, but the creaminess doesn't get in the way of those harvest veggies, in terms of flavor. Sonia pointed out that some "creamy" sauces have too much cream or milk, and they wind up tasting like a dairy product instead of a pasta sauce, but not here. This stuff is well-balanced in every way. Sonia thinks it would make a great pizza sauce. I can see where she's coming from—if you wanted to try a do-it-yourself "Autumnal Harvest Pizza," this would be the right place to start.

But for now, I think I'll stick with pasta. We had it with some non-TJ's cheese ravioli. It worked perfectly, with the majority of the flavor coming from the pasta sauce, just slightly overshadowing the mostly-neutral tastes of the dough and the cheese blend in the ravioli. I'm really anxious to get to some pumpkin reviews, but this was a condiment I just had to tell you guys about. If you're into traditional harvest flavors, butternut squash or pumpkin soup, this is a must-try.

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

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Salmon & Vegetable Croquettes

When I was a little kid, my dad brought home some croquettes from the supermarket once. They weren't salmon and vegetable...they were potato and something I think. But anyway, that doesn't matter. And honestly, I don't even remember what they tasted like, but I must have liked them because I remember asking for them more than once. 

I had never heard of a croquette before, but the way I remembered the name was that it was similar to the sound a toad makes: "croak." So the next day I used my (faulty) memory device and asked my dad for another "ribbit."

Silly the things you remember and the things you don't. And one thing I'm not soon to forget is the fishiness of the last salmon product I reviewed or that of the worst salmon product I've ever had. But fortunately for me, this salmon dish is the exact opposite of those fishy salmon dishes. It still tastes like salmon, but with virtually none of the bad kind of fishiness. That is to say, it was quite tasty.

I pan fried mine on the stove top with some coconut spray until they were golden brown on the top and bottom. As per the instructions, I thawed them in the microwave for about 45 seconds prior to the actual cooking. I still think they needed a couple extra minutes in the pan—maybe because my microwave is old and weak. But I trusted my eye instead of following the instructions to the letter, and I wasn't disappointed.

They were slightly crispy on the outside and all the ingredients were nice and soft—almost like crab cakes—in the middle. Flavor-wise, everything was well balanced and delicate. There was a good bit of that high-quality salmon, and it was definitely the main attraction, although the edamame, kale, broccoli, and chia seeds gave it a nice veggie base, with subtle notes of nuttiness.

At first, I thought $5.49 was a bit steep, but if you compare this product to an appetizer at a restaurant, it's not a bad deal. And yes, these croquettes are indeed restaurant-quality, if you ask Sonia or me. The wifey was just as impressed as I was. She really enjoyed this salmon, but also really loved this particular medley of veggies. Double fours here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa

Hrmmm. Just reading the front label of the brand-spankin' new Trader Joe's Harvest Salsa. Pumpkins. Apples. Butternut Squash. In a "salsa." Riiiight.

Sandy, an excellent photographer who doubles as a savvy shopper, snapped this up just this morning on her weekly TJ's run. I had heard NOTHING about this salsa until she sent me the picture at work of the jar front with our new little copyright in the corner. Nice pic, babe! But all I could see was the jar front, and since I hadn't seen any buzz or any news about it anywhere, here's the word that came to mind: Baby food.

Apples and squash are pretty traditional Gerbery glop, after all. Sure, it might be a little fancier - look, it's an "autumnal mélange" after all - but that's more or less what I expected. More savory, no spicy, kinda meh. Doesn't help that I'm not a huge pumpkin guy anyways. I think before twisting the lid off for the maiden tasting voyage I cracked some some joke about it was going to smell like a vaguely Mexican Yankee Candle.

Yet once again...I was wrong.

Don't let it fool you: Even though pumpkin is the primary ingredient, this is a salsa, first and foremost. Look at the rest of the ingredients: Tomatoes. Tomatillos. Jalapeños. Peppers. With the exception of the lime, I could probably grow everything in my back garden...but I'd never think of mashing them all up together into some Frankensalsa.

In a way, the salsa base is a lot like other Trader Joe's salsa - Cowboy Caviar (minus beans and corn) comes to mind, for instance. It's got that same chunky-spicy-sweet tilt to it - a good enough kick, but not enough to easily offend most palates. For this harvest blend, I'd say that the pumpkin and butternut squash add more body and girth than flavor. To my taste, they do add an earthy dimension, but it seems somewhat offset by a little bit of the spiciness being muted. As for the apples - they add a little crispy sweet angle, though it doesn't stand out. I can't quite figure out what type of apple it is, but it's definitely a tamer variety. There's a little touch of honey to amp up the sugar a little bit more, but in all, it's a very smooth, even flavor.

Honestly, both Sandy and I are pretty impressed by this stuff, and how well it incorporated so many different elements. I originally had planned on taking only a few small bites on tortilla chips as an after-main-course tidbit at dinner, which within a couple minutes turned into one of those "We need to put this away now" type moments we are too prone to. It's not enough to have me divorce my still-favorite salsa, and I'm not sold on how well it'd go over at breakfast on some eggs, but for almost anything else you'd put salsa on, go for it. Sandy mentioned a couple times she thinks it'd pair especially well with some grilled chicken, which I'd second. For a little seasonal variety, this is better than what we had bargained for, and well worth the $2.99 price tag.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Fall Harvest Salsa: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Harvest Blend

*Sniff, sniff* Hrmm, what's that smell in the air? Let's see...very late summer, not quite the autumnal equinox, warm days but cool nights, kids back in school...ah yes, must be the beginning on the annual onslaught of what I call "Pumpkin Everything!" season. Ugh. Annual disclaimer time: It's not that I'm anti-pumpkin stuff. I'm just anti- the overabundance of quite literally everything stinkingly possible having some nutmeg and cinnamon tossed on it and it be called a pumpkinpumpkin somethin'somethin'. I get it: basic capitalism. Supply and demand. But still. Let's get a hold of ourselves, people.

Of course, TJ's is no exception. I don't have the time in the day to individually link to everything pumpkin we've ever reviewed, nor the resources to hire an intern to do that menial labor, but there's several dozen, at least. Click here and go scour around if so inclined - chances are, if it's Trader Joe's, and if it's pumpkin, we've done it, or soon will. Thanks, Nathan, for doing most of that.

Despite my gourded enthusiasm about most pumpkin stuff, though, got to admit, I was a little intrigued by one of the newer salad-in-a-bag deals, Trader Joe's Harvest Blend. Maybe it was the success of the kale quinoa deal a little bit ago that whet my appetite, but I can get behind pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin cornbread croutons sound good, and...what the....

Pumpkin vinaigrette? I'm not a big salad dressing guy, but a nice light Italian or regular vinaigrette is okay every once in a while, but is this really something that oughtta be crossbred with anything big and orange that grows on a vine?  I tell you the truth: your entire perception of this salad hinges nearly completely on how you feel about that question.

For me: not sold. Not abhorred either. But...it's kinda weird. As a plus, from what I can tell from perusing the ingredients, there's no cinnamon or nutmeg or any pumpkin-pie like spices added to the dressing itself - it seems to be straight up pumpkin - imagine that! The flavor was kind of uneven - some bites tasted like normal dressing, others tasted like "pumpkin pie on lettuce" to use Sandy's description. Sometimes it even was sharply discordant with the natural greeny bite of the kale and other leafy greens. It's odd, and I probably would have been happier without it, but that'd be disservicing you all.

As for the rest of the salad, it was pretty solid. Good, crisp greens, with some broccoli and carrot slaw for a crunch much like the aforementioned quinoa salad. There weren't quite enough raisins, seeds or chopped dates for my liking, as those added some texture, variety and sweetness, but I didn't feel cheated either. As for those pumpkin cornbread croutons - good enough I'd probably buy just a straight box of them for a snack. They tasted just like a good cornbread, with a little smooch of pumpkin pie taste - I can buy into that. Absolute highlight of the salad right there, though they do get soggy and spongy if you save any for leftovers.

Overall, it seems like a good deal for the $4.49. It's big enough for a dinner salad for two hungry folks, or if used as a side (like we did with some pulled pork using my favorite barbeque sauce), expect leftovers. I'd probably get it again but pitch the dressing - if I'm going to drizzle something on my otherwise perfectly good dinner, I don't want to be indecisive about it. Same with Sandy, who said it could really use some other type of dressing, but other than that, the salad was great. She could only muster about a 2.5 when taking the whole package into consideration. Hrmmm...salad without dressing would be about a 4, with it was about a 2 for me...so let's call it a 3.

Trader Joe's Harvest Blend: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears

You'll never see me purchase a jar of pickles, even with the recent debut of Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears. It's not me - it's the family. Sandy refuses to touch, let alone attempt to consume, anything like a pickle, or even anything that's even touched a pickle - this had led to some interesting dinner time dill-emmas and dissections when out at a restaurant. Best case scenario: I get an extra pickle! Worst case: Waitstaff eye rolls abound. As for our toddler, Lil Ms. M.? Well, in her words: "I wicked a pick-kull once but I didn't wike it." That's a true story, I wish I would have captured that grimace for all of time. Baby B, who's started eating some table food, has tried a pickle and seemed to like it; then again, she somehow got a hold of a lemon slice and loved it, so I think she's still honing her palate. I mean, she also likes rocks, for goodness sake.

So, I'm grateful for my brother and sister-in-law, and their kiddos, all of them pickle aficionados, for dropping the $2.39 at TJ's for a jarful right before we came over for a Labor Day grill out. That way I got to try them without plopping down the cash, knowing it'd probably ultimately go to waste since I'm the only one in the household who would touch them.

Alright, so anyways....yeah, a jar of pickles isn't as flashy or eye-catching as, say, bags of pickley popcorn that all of you seem to love. I mean, there's not all that much one can do to a pickle to make it stand out all that much, is there? That's probably right, but...these do seem a little different than most I'm used to. There's a little added sweetness that must be from the cucumbers themselves - it's not overpowering, or even completely obvious, but to me, it's there. Most cucumber bases for pickles either taste like a pretty straightforward cuke - kinda bland in a wholesome way - or get over-saltied or vinegaried. Not these. The dill and garlic are also there as a good accompaniment but aren't all that dominant, either. Instead, these pickles just taste good and fresh, with a crunchy, firm bite. Eat right from the jar or snuggle up in a bun with a  hot dog, these guys are good to go.

That being said....There's a particularly perplexing pickley problem here, especially if you're a serving size stickler. Look at it: A serving is 3/4th's of a spear. What!?!?!?! The only reasonable explanation is the sodium - if my math isn't too fuzzy, if 3/4ths a spear is 12% of suggested sodium intake, a full spear is 16%, and just maybe that number would scare off too many potential suitors. I call shenanigans on that. Look: No one's going to lop off a little middling pickle stub. You're going to eat one, if not more. And pickle people know what they're into when it comes to pickles and sodium - there's a lot of it. We deal with it. Don't jerry-rig the serving size to make them appear to be not as salty as they are. It strikes me as dishonest.

Aside from that, no real complaints here. It's as good a jarred pickle as any out there, unless you're one of those silly ones who prefer bread-and-butter pickles (ick) or whatnot. The consensus of the pickle choir around the picnic table, young and old, was that these were a worthwhile pick-up, maybe not quite as good as fresh made deli pickles, but for a shelf-stable-til-opened jar, pretty good. I'll take some liberties in score guesstimating, but I'm probably not too far off base.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Dill Pickle Spears: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Indian Fare Jaipur Vegetables

Here's an item that's been in our cupboard for months and months and we might have forgotten about it, but last time we were at TJ's, they were handing it out at the sample counter. We liked it, so Sonia and I reminded ourselves to heat up the package we already had at home. And boy am I glad we did.

It's really tasty. It reminds me of the filling in the Balti Pies we looked at not too long ago, though not quite as fattening and calorific. Obviously, there's no crust or chicken here, either. The curry is nearly identical to the Balti curry, though maybe a tad bit spicier. There are big chunks of peas, carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes. Plus, there's paneer cheese and cashews—two ingredients TJ's is no stranger to. They all blend together nicely flavor-wise, but I'd definitely say the taste of the curry is the dominant flavor here. And that's just fine with me, because it tastes great.

All of the other ingredients create a nice hearty texture. It's not just a homogeneous mush. There's plenty of each constituent part to keep it interesting. I wasn't particularly thrilled with the cashews, since they were slightly soggy. If they had found some magical way to keep them crunchy, then this already delicious product would have been even better. I suppose they could have separated the cashews into a separate pouch that you could open and pour into the mixture at the end, but that's just me being uber-picky.

And that brings me to my next point: the preparation of this product is insanely easy. You either drop the bag into some boiling water on your stove top for five minutes, or you snip the bag and nuke the contents for a minute or two. I heated mine in the microwave and poured it over rice, and bang! Instant meal. I don't recall exactly what the price is on this one since it's been so long since we purchased it, but if it's anything like the other Indian Fare products, it's probably in the ballpark of $2, which is a really good deal for what you're getting. No complaints here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad

Bacon chocolate bars. Fig cookies ...err ....cakes .... bars. errr... whatever you want to call them. Greasy Greece-y cheesy dough spirals.  Mega carrot cake cookies. Super-de-duper crunchy brownie bites, which apparently everyone in the world except me knew were Sheila's Brownie Brittle.

Is it any wonder that I could use a salad?

As fun as it would be to subsist on nothing but all of those aforementioned treats, plus any cookie butter confections and other assorted TJ's goodies, well, that's just not how it works. You need veggies, and in the hot hot heat and humidty of summer, some nights nothing but a cool, crisp, flavorful salad will do.

It doesn't get any easier than Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad. As the package implies, it's a full, ready to go salad in a bag, ready to be rinsed off, dumped in a bowl, and served up. And there's a lot in here, too - crisp, fresh kale for the leafy green base, with some fresh shoestring carrot and broccoli for kind of a raw crunchy natural slaw to really fill the salad out. There's the typical red cabbage and radicchio shards intersparsed through out. All of that is well and good, but the toasted quinoa - man, that's a great addition, much better than any crouton. The itty quinoa bits (of which there are plenty) add a crispy, toasty, slightly nutty munch than makes a tasty accomplice to the rest of the kale, etc. The lemon vinaigrette is okay - somewhat light, a little citrusy, with a slight sweet tartness that plays off the natural veggie flavors well enough - but isn't terribly memorable, either. Of course, I say this as a non fan of most salad dressings, so take my opinion for whatever it may be worth. There's also a small package of pepitas and cranberries that add some textural variance and flavor, but it'd be nice to have more of them, especially the cranberries.

And this is one huge salad too. Sandy and I have bought it twice - the first time, we were extraordinarily hungry, so we plowed through the entire bag between the two of us for dinner, and that seemed to be pushing it a bit. The second time, we roasted some chicken breasts to cut up and mix in with the salad - man, that was filling, and though we ate to our hearts' content, there was enough remaining for a good leftover lunch for me. Really, not a bad value at all the for the $4.49 it set us back.

We're both fans, although strangely, me more than the wifey for once. Not tht she hated it, by any stretch. The first time we dined on it, she expressed some of her fullest love she could for a consumable good (non ice cream division). After the second...more of a "meh" reaction. Maybe it's because we knew what to expect. Regardless, Sandy said she'd probably still pick up the kale quinoa salad for a few lunches here and there, giving it a 3.5 overall. Me? it deserves better than that in my humble opinion. Not quite perfect (seriously, more cranberries, please) but I'll grade a little higher to give it the score I think it deserves.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Kale Quinoa Salad: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons