Trader Joe's Calabrian Chili Tomato Dumpling Soup

Chances are, it's pretty cold where you are right now. It sure is here in the 'burgh. Cold enough that it killed our new battery in the family minivan out of nowhere, and naturally at a fairly inopportune time and place - as if there is such thing as a "good time" for that to happen. Cold enough to make being outside for more than two minutes worth questioning your sanity. And given the news stories and social media feeds we've seen from elsewhere, we're fairly lucky here in the 'burgh as other areas have been much more deeply impacted. 

Cold, cold, cold. Please, keep warm. If you can help others get warm too, please do. 

And maybe to help warm up yourself, get a big ol' jar of the new Trader Joe's Calabrian Chili Tomato Dumpling Soup. 

Listen: this ain't no ketchup water from a can. Warhol, when asked why he painted soup cans, said he wanted to paint nothing, and that soup cans were that - nothing. Given his choice of subject matter, in the famous red and white label, I can see why he said that. 

This ain't that. 

First: calabrian chili peppers. Even if you've only ever been to TJ's, you've seen them before, in probably my favorite product ever: the Italian bomba sauce. Mama mia! That's some hot stuff. The calabrese experience in the tomato soup isn't quite the same kick - it's not fermented or anything like the bomba, so a lot less kick - but still there's enough moderate spice and heat and warmth added. If you're staunchly spice adverse, it may be a bit much, but it's at a level that i think it'd be accessible to most folks. Then again I can eat an entire jar of the bomba with a spoon in minutes, so my scale may be off. 

And additionally: dumplings!

Man, who doesn't like dumplings? You can put some in my soup anytime! I love little bits of doughy dough floating around, in a form that's akin to but chewier and doughier than a noodle. Tasty. There's an extra heartiness imparted by the presence of the dumplings, that make the soup feel like less of a side and more of a meal. But there could definitely be more - I'm not asking for handful and handfuls, as the soup is actually pretty tasty and doesn't suffer without dumplings, but a few more would really fill it out more. 

All together, it's delicious, warm, hearty soup, with a little kick, with serious warm belly filling potential, in a convenient quick and easy glass jar, for like $3. Can't beat it. This might be my new favorite store brand soup. Gonna have to go get it a few more times, you know, if the car would start....

Wife and kids sat this out. My lovely bride doesn't like tomatoes, and my kids don't like spice. Oh shucks, more for me. Love it, with only the wish for more dumplings as a knock. So good, so warm on up with some yourself if I may suggest. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Calabrian Chili Tomato Dumpling Soup: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Vegetable Samosa Burrito

I'm not into globalism as far as politics are concerned, but I must admit, when international cultures entwine, some pretty interesting and enticing culinary combinations result.

I'm thinking taco pizza, curried chicken salad, or Chicano hamburgers...or the fact that you can put sriracha on anything American and make it better. Fusion food. The only thing finer than one tasty tradition is two or more combined in the same dish. And now they're doing stuff like sushi corn dogs, kimchi quesadillas, and pierogi poutine...? What the what? I'll have to try those things some day...but until then, I'm glad there's Trader Joe's.

So it's a samosa...in the form of a burrito. Sounds good. If you use the microwave, this happy little lunch item goes from refrigerated to piping hot in just two minutes.

Despite being a little stuffy from the excessive cold we're feeling here in the upper midwest, that familiar curry-esque samosa smell cut through the kitchen and piqued my appetite immediately. Sonia and I cut our burrito in half and ate it with some other leftover Indian food and rice. By itself, it would have been the perfect size for a stand-alone lunch or even dinner for one person.

There were big chunks of potato, cauliflower, and carrots, plus plenty of large whole peas throughout the dish. The texture of the veggies was just about perfect. The tortilla would have been a bit more crispy had we used the oven, no doubt, but we were fine with it being soft and supple. It's definitely a secondary element after the veggie chunks.

To me, "tomato chutney" doesn't sound particularly appetizing or exciting. But it tasted great. Just look at the ingredients list. There's onions, garlic, mustard, vinegar, white wine, ginger, paprika, turmeric and rosemary, just to name a few of the represented flavors. The taste was every bit as complex and bold as you might expect from those elements. It's a uniquely Indian flavor in the familiar format of a burrito. Would buy again.

$3.99 for the product. Four stars a piece from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamed Greens

It's kind of ironic and counterintuitive, but Thanksgiving Day and the days surrounding it produce some of the lowest numbers for us on this blog as far as traffic is concerned. You might think that what is arguably the most food-centric day of the year would generate greater interest in food blogs and such, but you'd be wrong.

I mean, it's great that people are apparently paying attention to their families and traveling and preparing for the big day rather than fussing about our silly little grocery store blog. Doesn't bother me a bit. And now that I think about it, it might be slightly disturbing if the reverse were true.

But we're heading into not only the biggest and best family + food holiday of the year, but immediately after, we dive headlong into the Christmas season. At least around our house, turkeys and gourds will be replaced by fat men in red suits and reindeer by the end of this long weekend. So I found it appropriate to look at a product that might find its way into either a Thanksgiving meal or a Christmas meal. It's nothing quite as exciting as a pie or a cake, but hey, every big holiday meal needs to at least pretend that there's been an attempt to provide greens and veggies. So if the creamed corn side dish isn't looking adequate in the way of plant-based roughage, here's another item to consider.

Trader Joe's Creamed Greens with Brussels Sprouts, Kale, & Parmesan Cheese. In addition to being the only Trader Joe's product I've ever seen that includes the Oxford comma before an ampersand in its extended title, it's also one of the only dishes that takes not one, but two of the most hated vegetables in existence and attempts to turn them into calorific comfort foods...with moderate success, I might add.

The flavor is somewhere between a spinach dip and a green bean casserole. There's a heavy, creamy, salty, savory vibe. It tastes quite strongly of parmesan cheese and onions, but the kale and Brussels sprouts are far from wanting in the mixture. That is, your fork will be full of actual greens with what appears to be a medium-thick glaze of cheesy creaminess. The overall effect is a nice hearty veggie flavor with a major comfort food component.

My biggest and possibly only complaint is that certain bits seemed stringy. I'm guessing that the kale is mostly to blame for the stringiness, although sprouts can be a little tough and pulpy, too. There seemed to be "veins" of vegetable matter that didn't want to melt in the mouth quite like the rest of the dish did. Not every bite was stringy, and even the ones that were didn't stop me from plowing through my share of this otherwise smooth side. Sonia didn't seem to mind the texture of the creamed greens at all.

$4.99 for the one pound package. I'd eat this again alongside a traditional holiday meal. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

p.s. It works as a chip dip, too.

Three and a half stars from this guy. Four full stars from Sonia. 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower & Butternut Squash Risotto

Since Americans apparently like to "let their voices be heard" and stuff, I'm setting up a little referendum of my own. Voting is all the rage here in these United States as of late, so let's have a mock election for the president of the pantry...the culinary commander in chief...the premier of the palate. It's another Micropoll! Please vote down below.

Just assume that all variations of each answer are included under the broader category. For example, if you like "apple cider" or "apple cinnamon," you'd vote "apple." If you like "pumpkin pie" or "pumpkin spice," you'd simply vote "pumpkin." If your favorite fall flavor is something other than what I've included in this particular poll, then just leave a comment below.

In all honesty, I don't think butternut squash can keep up with those other choices, but hey, you never know. Likewise, Kanye West could be the next president of the United States. Wouldn't that be a trip? #BirthdayParty2020

In case that poll isn't displaying correctly on mobile, just click here to vote.

Fortunately, unlike American politics, we don't have to choose just one delicious flavor to consume all autumn long. We can indulge in all the many tasty treats fall has to offer. And I'm glad I got to try this unique "risotto" dish this year.

It's easy to prepare. Like most Trader Joe's products, the heating time went well over their estimation of 10 minutes in the pan. The frozen pellets of sauce had just barely melted at the 10 minute mark. I let it heat up a bit more and cooked off most of the liquid. The sauce eventually went from watery to creamy, if that makes sense. It was probably more like 15 minutes when all said and done, and it turned out pretty well. 

If anything, I think the riced cauliflower gets just a tad softer than the rice in regular risotto, but when consumed with the sauce and butternut squash, the consistency is very creamy and the overall effect is very pleasant, authentic, and similar to a traditional risotto dish. What can't they do with riced cauliflower?

The flavor here is subtle—it may be even verging on too subtle, as in...you know, kinda bland. It's a creamed veggie essence with delicate notes of garlic and cheese. There's earthy, planty, nutty flavors, and the light sweetness of butternut squash. We just wish the flavors were all just a tad stronger and richer. It tastes vaguely fall-ish, but I'd be happy to consume it any other time of year. Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower and Butternut Squash Risotto isn't really a stand alone entree in my opinion, but it makes a great side dish for your choice of protein. We served ours with salmon and it paired perfectly.

$3.69 for the 16oz bag. We'd consider buying it again. Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Survey Templates

Trader Joe's Southwest Style Sweet Potato Saute Bowl

Of course, there's any number of ways to mark the year 2020. Most of them, we won't go into here, and we think you appreciate that. 

Today, we'll keep it light and positive, and state that 2020 seems to be a year that my lovely bride and I have really gotten a lot of cool kitchen stuff, or at the very least definitely upped our meager supply from before. New KitchenAid mixer for her, that I'm afraid to touch. New nicer grill for me, that's she's afraid to touch. Just yesterday we had a new blender/food processor delivered from a Pampered Chef party Sandy hosted about a month ago, and as we've excitedly exclaimed several times, it can heat stuff while blending. Hello potato soup. Plenty more things coming from that party.

And most pertinent for this review, a great buddy of mine dropped off a carbon steel wok and bamboo handled spatula for my birthday. I love it, and use it as often as I can, although I'll admit I'm still getting the hang of it. 

So when Sandy brought home the new Trader Joe's Southwest Style Sweet Potato Saute Bowl, I knew it was time to wok and roll. Sounds like fun and deliciousness all in one. 

And boy, were we not wrong.

The label suggests it's a six serving container, which I suppose can make sense if treating as a side dish. There's plenty in there once it gets opened, kinda like it's all springloaded in there with all the potato spirals and whatnot. But treat as a main dish, it's perhaps more like a larger lunch for two hungry adults to share, and that works.

First off: lots of potato...noodles? If zucchini noodles can be called zoodles, what are these? "Poodles" is taken. Call 'em yams and yoodles? Maybe? I digress. There's a ton in there, enough that while cooking I wasn't there if there'd be enough of the other stuff to even make it's way and mix up the big ol' nest we had going on. Fortunately they do saute up well and "cook down" and untangle enough to get a nix mix on, though they do take longer to saute than stated on the package. There were a few grainy-ish bites, which yes, partially on me, but it's something to be aware of. 

But all the mix-in's, too: nice. There's jicama in there but honestly for us it got more or less lost in there so I wasn't always aware while consuming it. There was an occasional burst of freshness though, so that must be it. Ample chunks of poblano peppers are tossed in, which don't add much if any heat, but are maybe a slightly edgier bell pepper, like a pre-teen one who just went to Hot Topic. Get one with a little extra roast on it and it's yum. Corn, black beans, a lil' pico de gallo - all are good, could use a little more, IMHO. But what's there is nice. 

And then...the sauce. 

This is always the make it or break it component for any salad or similar kit. You gotta nail this. Here, TJ's went with an avocado cilantro one. I'd argue you don't have to like avocados to like this dressing - it's light and smooth with a little body to it, but is nowhere near guacamole, though for me that wouldn't be outta line for a piece of the meal here. Sandy generally dislikes avocado and had no issue with this particular one. But (and a big but) you absolutely have to like cilantro. There's a lot of that up in here. I'd say that makes sense - with all the yoodles (yup, I'm going for it) in there something has to cut through and add flavor to every bite. Cilantro is the overarching ingredient tying it all together. It's got bite. And it works. 

In all, the sweet potato saute kit works as a standalone dish that can likely be adaptable to however you may want to dress it up. Add some guac, sour cream/Greek yogurt, salsa, even a little more protein to make it a bit more of a meal and boost the serving numbers? Sure, all of that could work. It seems to be a good base for all sorts of creations...which I intend to do with my new fancy wok in all its rainbow-seasoned glory. Good stuff. Really good. I think between Sandy and I we can muster a near perfect score. 

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Southwest Style Sweet Potato Saute Bowl: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

 

Trader Joe's Organic Spicy Pozole Verde

May 5, 1999, I was sitting in a now defunct Chi-Chi's restaurant in State College, PA with some friends and acquaintances after classes. We were celebrating Cinco de Mayo. I didn't know a lick of Spanish back then. "I wonder what Cinco de Mayo means..." I mused in my ignorance.

"Fifth of May," replied Stacy.

"I know when it is, but I mean what does the phrase 'Cinco de Mayo' literally mean?" I asked.

"Fifth of May," she persisted. "It's like Fourth of July for Mexicans."

My head exploded. "So it's the Mexican Independence Day? Whoa. I never knew that."

Many years later, I'd learn that it was not, in fact, the Mexican Independence Day. I'd also learn that the phrase "chi-chi's" is actually a slang term for "breasts" or "nipples" in Spanish. And here I thought it was a family restaurant. I always wondered what went on in that 21+ bar area.

The actual Mexican Independence Day is September 16, just over a week ago. There was a decisive battle against the French in Mexico on May 5, 1862, but the day they declared independence from Spain was actually September 16, 1810. I guess "Dieciséis de Septiembre" doesn't quite roll off a Yankee's tongue like "Cinco de Mayo."

At any rate, Mexican Independence Day is a good excuse to eat pozole, as are other special occasions like Christmas and New Year's. Sonia grew up with it. She explained that it usually takes a while to make, so it's often reserved for holidays and celebrations, not unlike tamales or menudo. It's usually served with pork or chicken, while Sonia grew up with a version with beef.

This variety is vegetarian—vegan, in fact, and doesn't suffer from want of meat, at least not in our opinions. There's a good bit of hominy and beans to give the soup a hearty texture. It's full of green chiles and onions, too. There's a nice, even, moderate spiciness in the mixture, as well. I'd put it at a 4 or 5 on the spice-o-meter, on a scale of 1 to 10.

Complaints: some of the onion slices are very long, spindly strands of onion that are a little difficult to eat. I found the plastic seal very difficult to remove and thought maybe the "onion" Sonia was finding was actually pieces of plastic that didn't stay attached to the rest of the covering. Upon further inspection, we determined that they were, in fact, pieces of onion. And I mean, we both love onions. Sonia also wanted more hominy. She's a big fan of the puffy kernels of corn. I don't know that I've had much hominy in my lifetime, but I really liked it here and wouldn't have minded a tad more of it.

The soup isn't much to look at. I think it resembles Eowyn's stew from Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers...minus the strand of hair. But hey, looks aren't everything.

You can put it in a pot and heat it on the stovetop or just puncture the plastic covering and put it in the microwave for 3 minutes. It's very easy to prepare. $3.99 for the 2.5 serving container—probably 2 servings in actual practice.

All things considered, this product gets a thumbs up from both a gringo who's never really had pozole before and a Latina who's been eating it her whole life. We're not vegan, but we're always happy when we find vegetarian and vegan products that have enough "meatiness" and flavor without the dead animals. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Three and a half stars from me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Corn & Green Chile Pepper Quiche

I've been watching a bunch of 80's movies on Amazon Prime lately. What a weird decade. I mean, it was so carefree compared to today. Everything was loud and goofy, from music to clothing to hairstyles. It's such a stark contrast to 2020, which is why I've been finding it so refreshing to bask in all the gaudy glory of 1980's American cinema. Plus, there's not a lot I want to see in the way of new stuff right now, and it still costs $20 just to rent the third installment of Bill and Ted.

Also from the 80's: a book called Real Men Don't Eat Quiche. I mean, it's apparently satirizing the idea that certain things are more masculine to consume than others, but still...I must admit I don't know many dudes obsessed with quiche. In defense of my own masculinity: the three quiches I've reviewed on this blog represent more than half the quiche I've consumed in my entire lifetime. And so far, all of those specimens have fallen into a kind of "take it or leave it" status with me and the wifey.

As is standard for a quiche, this one's primarily made of eggs. I heated ours for 25 minutes in the oven rather than the microwave, and the insides came out surprisingly mushy, especially when one considers the outsides were extremely crispy. I know quiche should be soft, but I felt like the insides had an excess of moisture and the outsides were, if anything, a little too dry. 

Sonia pointed out that there was a decided lack of veggies, corn in particular, in the filling. We were expecting a whole bunch of corn kernels as well as more substantial chunks of chile, too. I guess we were pining for a sort of savory corn and veggie pie rather than a quiche.

Flavor-wise, it's eggy and quichey—not overly salty, sweet, or cheesy. It begs for a little help, honestly. Some salsa and/or hot sauce is definitely in order here. We had no trouble finishing it, but for two thirds of your daily saturated fat and 98% of your cholesterol, I was hoping for just a tad more piquancy. More green chile peppers would have unquestionably made it more memorable for Sonia and me.

$4.99 for the 9 oz quiche. Probably not a repeat purchase for us. Three stars a piece.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps

Time in 2020 seems different than time in any other year I've been around for. Literally, it seems that this year has been going on for years. My lovely bride and i were reminiscing the other day about a trip she took back in February, so a little over six months ago...which seems more like six years ago at this point. We both couldn't believe it.

So, listen, I have no idea when Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps debuted in stores this year. None. Zip. Nada. All I know is I heard and saw the buzz all over the place for them...and when we went to our local TJ's here in good ol' Pittsburgh PA USA...they weren't ever there. It wasn't even a popularity deal, it was more they couldn't even be ordered for who knows what reason. We're always among the last to get anything here, so I've been waiting to try these for what it seems forever...or has it been maybe three weeks max? Two months? Since yesterday? Yanked from the future? I have no idea.

I also had no idea that jicama could be used in this way, as basically a tuber-tilla. Don't know what that is? I just made it up, so I didn't until 10 seconds ago either. It's a tortilla made from just a tuber (root plants like potatoes) and nothing else, and these TJ's jicama wraps may have invented the genre. Nothing added. Nothing obviously subtracted. All these wraps are is precisely as the package states: thinly, almost translucently, sliced jicama. The roughly four inch tubertacular discs are easily rollable and bendable, not so much foldable, sliceable, and are sturdy enough to hold a small taco together while not being quite big enough to hold a lot.

They're also pretty wet, which makes sense, but could be a turnoff for some. And other than that, it's just jicama. With a slight apple-like crispness and a mild sweetness, if you're tired of the same ol' tortillas or just want a low carb alternative that's not a lettuce wrap, go for it! I made a quick lunch yesterday with some leftover chicken, shredded cheese, and salsa, and it worked great. The jicama added a freshness without interfering with any other flavors.

I briefly considered making a quesadilla with them, to see how they'd cook up, but got scared off by the notion of potentially having to scrape burned up jicama off my decrepit frying pan. It's on its last legs as is, I don't need to speed it along. But the package says they're good for quesadillas...so did any of you try that? If so, how'd it go?

Pricepoint on these guys is about $4 for the dozen of them. Seems fair, maybe, I guess. Personally, I wouldn't drop any more than that on a regular basis for these guys, but maybe I'm just being cheap again. I like 'em, so does the fam who were brave enough to try them. There's a definite plus for the novelty, innovation and execution, but in the ned, it's still just thinly sliced jicama so I'm not sure how far we can really go here. Double fours? Sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Cheese-Less Cheesecakes

For those of you unfamiliar with our background, Sonia and I aren't vegan. We probably eat less meat than the average American, but dairy is very much a part of our daily diets. Sonia gravitates toward alternative milks like almond and oat, particularly for her cereal, since she occasionally has lactose-intolerance issues, while I very much prefer cow's milk, despite being quite familiar with all its many alternatives since childhood. For something like cheesecake, we'd both reach for the traditional stuff—unless, of course, there's a vegan alternative that can somehow magically compete with "the real deal."

Approaching this cheese-less cheesecake, I am very skeptical. The product itself and packaging look pretty nice, and we all know Trader Joe's has offered impossibly delicious "alternative" foods in the past, but I've also tried a number of lactose-free/vegan offerings that were, in my opinion, less than edible.

Preparation is simple enough. Just plop the cheesecake out of its little cup onto a serving plate, let thaw in the fridge for 2 hours, and voila: ready to eat. I'm not the kind of person that knows what I'm going to be hungry for 5 minutes from now, let alone 2 hours. What am I, Nostradamus? But I went ahead and prepped the cheesecakes anyway, hoping I'd be more or less in the mood for cheesecake for my mid-morning snack, AKA brunch AKA second breakfast.

Well here we are. The moment of truth. First impressions? Really surprisingly, shockingly, good for a vegan product. Not exactly like real cheesecake, but still pretty darn tasty. Sonia's initial reaction: disappointment. We both agree we were expecting the opposite: that Sonia would like it and I would not. Not sure what we can attribute that turn of events to. Maybe my expectations were too low and hers were too high? 

The graham cracker base is pretty much what you'd expect. The "cheese" part is very creamy, although perhaps a tad thinner than regular cheesecake. It's nice and sweet. There's an interesting flavor that's hard to put our fingers on. I'd say it has a bright, almost citrusy element to it. There's definitely a tartness underneath the initial desserty sweetness, but it works quite well in my humble opinion.

Holy goodness! I'm so glad I didn't look at the ingredients before I tried this stuff. This "cheesecake" basically has a lima bean base. Lima beans! Oh gosh that's gross. I mean, lima beans are okay when buttered and salted and served as a side dish. But lima bean cheesecake?? Ugh. That's just weird. Maybe Sonia just subconsciously tasted lima beans and I didn't. Why not red beans like you'd find in all those Asian desserts? Or tapioca? Those would be less...unusual choices. 

Other ingredients are pretty normal. There are lots of different kinds of oils, agave syrup, oats. On down the list you'll see there is in fact lemon juice. I don't know if I'll ever get over that lima bean thing. It's like the yogurt I consumed and enjoyed for many years was ruined once I found out there were thousands of ground up little bugs used for coloring in them. You know, carmine?

Sometimes ignorance is bliss. I'll try not to punish this dessert for being made of lima beans, because it does taste oddly good to me. Strangely enough, Sonia's not grossed out by the lima bean thing. But she'll only throw out two and a half stars. She's not impressed. I might have gone with four and a half initially...so put me down for four, I guess.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Balela

A certain "source for authentic Latino cuisine" has been in the news lately, and without mentioning its name or getting into divisive politics, I'll just say that Sonia and I have been talking about beans a lot as of late. We discussed our mutual love of beans in general, and in particular, we got into garbanzo beans and black beans, since they're both staples of our ever-deepening pantry.

I made the assertion that garbanzos will be much more convenient when the power grid goes down, since they're generally meant to be served cold or at room temperature, while black beans are only palatable when heated. Sonia disagreed and stated that she'd happily consume black beans cold as well, also pointing out that a particular stereotype about her ethnicity is not only true, but that if anything, her people's reverence for frijoles is understated and only partially understood by los gringos.

All of this discussion took place before picking up this new (?) refrigerated bean salad from Trader Joe's. Apparently Middle-Easterners are nearly as enthusiastic about beans as our south-of-the-border amigos. Also, my assumption that black beans had no place in any cold dishes was dashed to pieces. This balela is chock full of garbanzos as well as black beans, and they both work beautifully in this mixture.

To me, this salad tasted like the two aforementioned bean types, mixed with something akin to pico de gallo, with some oil and vinegar dressing on top. Ingredients-wise, it's really not a far cry from that. There's a hint of citrus flavor and a barely-detectable amount of spice from the chili pepper and garlic. The faint "dried mint" element is perhaps the most uniquely Middle-Eastern or Mediterranean aspect of the salad.

It's crisp, refreshing, filling, and not too shabby in the calories and fat departments. It's perfect for summer. I found it a nice break from typical lettuce-cabbage-spinach-based salads. And obviously, there are far fewer carbs in here than in any kind of pasta salad.

$3.29 for the 8 oz tub. Might be a repeat purchase, or we might try to make our own. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Feta, Pepper Drop and Olive Antipasto

This was a very educational purchase for me. Neither Sonia nor I had ever heard of pepper drops before. Apparently, they're native to Peru, they're sweet and sour, and they're teardrop-shaped. Not sure how I've made it this far in life without hearing about these fun and colorful little globs of flavor, but better late than never I always say. Sonia and I both thoroughly enjoyed the pepper drop element of this product. We wish there were a lot more of them.

Secondly, I don't think I've ever come across the word "toothsome" before today. It's right there on the front of the package. It's possible I've seen it before and it simply didn't register, but today is the day I'll add that adjective to my vocabulary and hopefully manage to work it into regular rotation. Although, I may alternate between that and "toothtacular," because why not?

Thirdly, I learned that when something has feta cheese as the number one ingredient, it's going to be absolutely bursting with lipids. Everything's betta with feta! Indeed. And feta cheese is the number one ingredient here. However, there's more than half a day's worth of fat in this single-serving container of antipasto. I mean, I never assumed feta was diet food or anything, so I should have seen it coming. But 54% of your RDA for fat is a little more than I was hoping for. Sonia's the one that pointed this out to me. She's actually far more horrified than I am.

It might not be a bad idea to pick up some bruschetta alongside this product so you don't waste all that good olive oil. The instructions on the container say to drain all the oil out before eating. That makes sense...because there's about a gallon of olive oil in that little 8oz package. If you're not into the whole hyperbole thing, there's apparently like an ounce and a half of olive oil, you know, if you do the math. But in actual practice, just count on a gallon or so. 

There's just lots of olive oil.

Also, there are many, many olives. I didn't mind them at first, but the wife and I were so enamored with the pepper drops that we found ourselves wishing there were fewer and fewer kalamata olives to make room for more of the tiny red and orange drops. Sonia's actually allergic to kalamatas, so I was tasked with eating them all. They are all pitted, which is a big plus. If I had to slow down and remove pits from each bite of this antipasto, it would have been a bummer. The way this year is going so far, I probably would have choked on one of them and Sonia and the dogs would have been left to weather the apocalypse without me. It would have been pitiful. Get it? PITiful? It's a joke.

Nevermind.

$4.99 for the container. Three and a half stars a piece on this product.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Creamy Cauliflower Jalapeño Dip

The heat of the summer is definitely not a favorite time of the year for Sonia and me. Don't get me wrong, I like wearing shorts and t-shirts rather than 18 layers of flannel and heavy outer garments, and taking a dip at the local pool is always fun—although, I don't even know if public pools are open this year. Are we swimming with masks on now? Does snorkel gear count as a mask? Darn you, 2020.

Eating ice cream and popsicles makes more practical sense when the weather's warm, so there's that. Also, cold, dairy-based dips and crisp veggies are good snacks for these higher temps. And here's a fun fact: spicy foods like jalapeno are helpful when it comes to staying cool and beating the summer heat. Apparently the spice makes you sweat without moving around a lot, and the moisture helps keep your body temperature low. Just think about it: most cultures that consume a lot of hot, spicy foods are found in warmer climates. See: Mexican food, Indian food, Thai food. Yum. Makes me sweaty just thinking about it. But that's kinda gross, so never mind.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—this dip isn't jalapeno-ey enough to make me sweat. It just flat out needs more spice if they're going to include "jalapeno" in the title of this product. There's just enough to provide a vague background warmth after consuming numerous bites of the condiment. There's very little kick up front.

The dip is quite creamy, however, and the cauliflower actually adds to said creaminess rather than detracting from it. It also lends an earthy, rich flavor that dairy alone might lack. Texture-wise, the dairy elements are very smooth, and the cauliflower must be pureed into oblivion, because there's hardly anything cauliflower-esque about the texture. There's just a hint of gritty coarseness.

All in all, it's not a far cry from any other cream cheese-based dip I've ever had. As much as the cauliflower flavor enhances this dip, I still think it could have worked with more cauliflower and less dairy flavor. If I were re-formulating version 2.0, I'd magnify the jalapeno presence nearly tenfold. There might be microscopic little bits of jalapeno in this version. I'd add substantial jalapeno pieces. Maybe not big slices like you'd find on a stack of nachos, but quarters of slices, perhaps.

Don't think this will be a repeat purchase. It's a neat idea, but it's just not memorable or flavorful enough, and there are way too many amazing dips already available at Trader Joe's. Three and a half stars from Sonia. Three stars from yours truly.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins

Cauliflower thins...cauliflower thins....cauliflower thins...need to get the cauliflower thins....TJ's didn't have the cauilflower thins...cauliflower thins....

Despite my lovely bride's insistence that I don't listen all the time, that's something I kept hearing the past few weeks. Need to try the Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins. I will admit I never looked them up either, so I kinda presumed they were a like a cracker-type deal. We've had cauliflower-based snackers like those before, and our kids love 'em and we don't mind them, so it was plausible to me.

Nah. Cauiflower thins are "a delicious & versatile bread substitute," so it's something along the lines of cauliflower crust pizza, except in smaller form.

One thing to get outta the way: I strongly dislike the the word thins as a plural. To me, the word "thin" will always be more of an adjective than a noun. If I ever slip a -g on the end, and my admittedly lazy editing process doesn't catch it, I apologize in advance.

Anyways, as far as these non-carb breadlike discs go, the thins are okay. The ingredients state, in order, that they're mainly comprised of cauliflower, eggs and Parmesan cheese, yet somehow the cauli-coasters don't taste like any of them, really. Granted, cauliflower doesn't really taste like anything, and the other two may be more binding agents than anything, I guess...? Instead, its vaguely bread-like matter that seems a bit dense but kinda doughy, and pretty vaguely flavored. Nutritious, though. In some ways, I kinda imagine that this is what manna would be like. I'd get sick of it within 40 days, for sure, much less 40 years. Hard to describe. They're...there, but not much else can easily be described.

As far as versatility goes, I'd imagine there would be some. Sandy and I toasted ours up for an egg sandwich, and instead of breaking, the thins happily bent and curved like a taco. It'd be hard to imagine them getting crispy, but then again, anything's possible. See: 2020.

I'd love more time to experiment, but alas, an issue: Out of the four pack, even though we were several days before the best by date, two of them got slightly moldy, so into the trash. Not happy about that, but it happens, and something to watch for. On the bright side, that gives you, our reader, plenty of opportunity to chime in with how you've enjoyed yours. Hit us up.

There ya have it. TJ's cauli-thinny-things. I'm sure if we were going keto or back to paleo they may be higher on the list, but as a guy who generally prefers to drink and not eat his carbs, I can have a little appreciation for what they are. Somewhere around a three from both of us sounds right.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cauliflower Thins: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Lemony Arugula Basil Salad Kit

Let's see here...

Arugula? Check.

Shaved carrot chips? Alright.

Crushed almonds? Ok.

Shredded Parmesan cheese? Yup.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Mandarin Style Orange Chicken Bowl

While Sonia and I were on the road, traveling almost every day sometimes for weeks on end, we'd often take advantage of Walmart parking lots for quick overnight stops. Most locations welcomed RVers with open arms for up to 24 hours. Many were adjacent to strip malls, mini malls, and occasionally classic indoor malls. And, of course, many of these malls had a Panda Express as part of their lineup of eateries and shops. 

At this point I should mention I've been referring to Panda Express as "Poison Panda" since college. No, I'm not racist against Asians. I have cute little nicknames for every fast food chain including Toxic Bell, Booger King, Pizza Butt, and Jack in the Crack. Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that, perhaps part of some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, not once but twice, Sonia and I fell ill after eating Poison Panda on the road. We had running water in our RV, but for those of you familiar with RVing, it's very limited. You can't take 30 minute long showers, use a gallon of water for each flush, and run the sink the whole time you brush your teeth. You have to dump your tanks and refill your fresh water often unless you're extremely frugal with your usage. All that to say, if you're sick in an RV, it's not fun, and I'm not a fan of Panda since. Maybe I should just stop calling them "Poison Panda," and I'll have better luck. Law of Attraction and all that.

Fortunately, now I can get my orange chicken fix without going to a restaurant. Yes, I know there are decent orange chicken offerings that come frozen in bags and can be made on the skillet, but if you're pressed for time or want a decent break room lunch-at-work type of deal, this selection is quite satisfying.

Prep is simple. 4-5 minutes in microwave, thaw sauce in warm water, mix, serve. It's pretty close to restaurant quality as far as taste, but it's pert near impossible to make any kind of breaded chicken come out perfectly in the microwave. It's on par with Poison Panda orange chicken after you reheat the leftovers. I was surprised how much food there was in the bowl. It was actually filled to the brim. Maybe it's because we eat way less meat these days, but we were also impressed with the plentiful amounts of chicken in the mix. I might ask for more carrots, peas, and broccoli in place of some of the rice, but it was still a decent ratio as it was.

The included orange ginger sauce alone is adequate as far as condiments are concerned. I wouldn't have minded a tad more of it, but there's enough in the packet to coat the pieces of chicken and even some of the veggies and rice. You could throw in some soy sauce or sriracha if you were so inclined. I added a clove of raw garlic to mine, because I LOVE me some garlic and it has tons of health benefits. Also, I hate vampires. Go Team Jacob.

$3.99 for the bowl. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Four from me.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Broccoli & Cauliflower Saute Kit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Dark Russet Kettle-Cooked Potato Chips

During our RV travels, few states stood out to Sonia and me like Idaho did. Other than a friendly acquaintance I'd met in Los Angeles and one childhood friends' sister relocating to the Boise area, neither of us had ever even known anyone from the state. 

Between the two of us, Sonia and I have either passed through or visited 40 of the 50 states at this point—and we've spent at least a week in 35 of them. I've even been a resident of five different states thus far.  Idaho would definitely be at the very top of our underrated states list, with the Boise area in particular standing out as probably the most livable city in America that we've visited.

Over the weekend, not even thinking about the fact we were eating these dark russet chips at the time, a recommended video from a channel we frequently visit started auto-playing on YouTube. It was about a woman with a very unique house just outside Boise. 

As the wife and I debated the pros and cons of living in a giant potato, we recollected our 2019 adventures out west, and it suddenly occurred to me that these chips might very well be from the great state of Idaho. Although there's no official info on the packaging asserting that the potatoes within are, in fact, sourced from the Gem State, apparently "Russet potatoes" are synonymous with "Idaho potatoes" according to Wikipedia.

Whether they're from ID or not, they're pretty good. I've never been a plain potato chip kinda guy, but these darker kettle-cooked chips are a bit more interesting than their pale cousins. There's more richness and earthiness in chips like these. The peanut oil lends an essence I'd almost describe as "buttery." 

There's just a tad more saltiness than I'd care for, but I'd probably go ahead and say that about the vast majority of—not just potato chips—but chips in general, including things like tortilla and pita, as well. Still, they didn't go completely overboard, and Sonia would say the salt level is just about perfect. 

I've had other brands of dark russet chips, most notably Utz and Herr's. It's been a hot minute, but I'd say this Trader Joe's offering is on par with either of those classic makes of potato chips. At $2.29 for the bag, it's a comparable price point, if not a little cheaper, and I love the fact there are only three ingredients. 

As the bag itself points out, these chips are great for dunking in stuff like spinach dip or for simply snacking straight out of the bag. Trader Joe's Dark Russet Kettle-Cooked Potato Chips will get four stars each from Sonia and me.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.