Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt

So we tried Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Vanilla Yogurt the other day. It was very natural tasting. It tasted like it was straight off the farm. And really, we're not used to that taste. We're used to super-processed yogurts with fake ingredients, preservatives, and added colors. The au naturale version tasted a bit funky to be honest with you. We looked at the "use by" date just to make sure. We still had a week or so until it expired.

I think if we were totally accustomed to that completely natural taste, this would have been absolutely amazing yogurt. It's certainly not bad. It just might take some getting used to for those of us who are in the process of trying to break a lifetime of bad eating habits.

Then later we tried the strawberry version of Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt. Same thing. Very natural. Not only the taste this time, but the overall look of the yogurt seemed very peculiar to us. It was fruit on the bottom style yogurt. Except now, instead of a vibrant crimson emerging from the bottom of the cup, a dull, sort of muted red-brown color came up. Well, after doing some research, I became increasingly thankful that the color we stirred up from the bottom was not that familiar brilliant red...

Did you know that most leading yogurt brands use an ingredient called "carmine" to color most flavors of their yogurt? Did you further know that carmine is made from bugs? That's right. There are bugs in your yogurt. I'm not a big fan of bugs in general, and I'm really really not a fan of eating them. I know there are FDA regulations that allow for X number of spiders per cereal box and all that, but to intentionally color a product with bugs seems downright disgusting to me. It's enough to keep me from buying all those fancy yogurt flavors now. I think TJ's should change the name of their yogurt line to "Trader Joe's Organic Bug-Free Lowfat Yogurt." Their slogan could be this: The protein comes from the farm fresh milk, not from thousands of little red beetles.

Yogurt was never vegan-friendly, and now we know that it really isn't even a vegetarian food, as tiny red insects count as animals, right? That's enough to make you switch brands. One more reason to get more stuff from TJ's.

So, to summarize, the yogurt is bug-free and natural-tasting, but it's not the flavor-extravaganza we're used to...Sonia gives 3's to both of them. I give them 3.5's.

Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt (Vanilla). Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt (Strawberry). Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chile Lime Chicken Burgers

Not sure where the inspiration for these chicken burgers came from...it's not like this is a classic meal anywhere that I know of. It's an interesting idea. We know the chile lime formula works well with nuts, corn on the cob, mango, cucumbers, and even some soups. But does it work with, of all things, a chicken burger?

Well, I'd say it works marginally well. I must admit we didn't go to any great lengths to fix these burgers properly. No guacamole like you see on the box. We didn't really even have hamburger buns. We just used some gluten-free brown rice bread we had in the fridge...which you can get at Trader Joe's, by the way. We did try them first without the fixins, but in the end I think we topped them with ketchup and mustard.

At $3.49 for 4 patties, it's not a bad value. But the flavor left a bit to be desired. You could taste a little chicken type flavor, but the chile and lime kind of failed to come through. And that, unfortunately, was the primary reason we wanted to try these exotic-sounding burger substitutes. There's definitely a hint of lime, but the chile was extremely subtle...a little too subtle for both of our tastes. Now, if you were to add some chile and lime of your own, you might get a more pleasing result. But that kind of defeats the purpose of buying chicken burgers that are supposed to be chile-lime to begin with. There's very little spiciness, and not much tang, either.

If you're looking for a reasonably priced chicken burger, these might be a viable option for you, but just don't expect much from the "chile lime" part of the product. Sonia gives Trader Joe's Chile Lime Chicken Burgers 3.5 out of 5 stars, and I give them the same score.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Ming's General Tsao Stir Fry Sauce

There are nights, usually Fridays but not always, when Sandy and I simply look at each other because we're so hungry and feel like making next to no effort to get dinner made. For these times, there are four main options: a) popcorn b) freezer pizza c) pizza from the neighborhood shop, Eddie's Pizza Haus or d) China Lin delivery. A lot of those times, we choose China Lin. Popcorn isn't much of a dinner, we'd have to run out of the house for either pizza choice, and Chinese food is just good. I just love the idea of being able to make a phone call and have whatever kind of food delivered right to your door. It's not quite the food replicators from Star Trek, but, you know, it's about as close as we can get. It's always kinda awkward ordering from there, from having to repeat your order a couple times over the yelling lady taking it, to it being delivered half of the time by a ten year old kid. I'm always amazed that they always have it to us within twenty minutes, even though it takes half an hour to get to our place from anywhere because of all the stop signs in the neighborhood (if you're familiar with Morningside, you know exactly what I mean). Anyways, I almost always without fail order the General Tso's Chicken, just because it's so darn good. I've had one or two other things from there, and they seem a little sketchy, but the General Tso's always delivers.

Anyways, my sister got Sandy and I a Trader Joe's cookbook for Christmas this past year, and as we skimmed through it one night, we saw a recipe for General Tsao's Chicken Lettuce Wraps. Until this point, we were somehow completely ignorant of the fact that Trader Joe's Asian accomplice Trader Ming had some of the General's stir fry sauce, because I know we would have picked it up before if we were aware of its existence. This immediately became a must-buy for the next trip.

I tell you what: we had high hopes for it, and it did not disappoint one bit. The sauce itself is a good, rich, goopy concoction (think barbecue sauce for its composure) that had every bit of flavor that I have come to love and know from General Tso chicken. It starts with the sweet and tangy but a good level of spiciness kicks in to give it a good, full bodied taste. The one aspect of flavor that really stood out to me was a combination of garlic and red pepper that gave off a lot of heat and flavor without overpowering the rest. Fantastic stuff. We mixed it in with some chicken I pan-fried up then shredded, wrapped in some lettuce leaves, and served with rice. It was so good Sandy and I started pouring and mixing in with our rice, and before we knew it, we kicked the whole bottle. It was so good I couldn't help but scrape out what I could with my finger just to savor the flavor a little bit longer.

On our subsequent shopping visit, Sandy just picked it up and put it in the cart when I was probably sneaking as many free samples at the sample counter as I could, and didn't even know we got it until I began putting stuff away at home. As soon as I saw it grasped in my hand, my first thought was "Good call, wifey." Sure, it takes a little bit more effort to make something than to just call someone help to bring it right to you, but for the $3 (or cheaper) for the sauce that's right on par with the best that delivery can offer, it's worth it to spend the twenty minutes over a stove instead of stalking old high school friends on Facebook while waiting for Short Round to knock on your door. Because of this great discovery, I'd imagine we'll be ordering out less for Chinese food, especially since two dinners plus tip easily runs at least $20 if not more. Trader Ming, thank you for bringing this into our lives.

Sandy rates this stuff a strong and vibrant five. Her only complaint, as with anything truly good, was there wasn't more. I rate it almost as high, but can't quite give it a five for two reasons. First, I'm going to miss the free Tupperware that comes with delivery. Second, I've always seen it spelled as General Tso, this stuff is spelled as General Tsao, so I'm a little confused as to which one is actually correct (or if either one is, or if they both are ... I get confused easily). But I think despite these slight misgivings, I will enjoy it immensely, and I'm already looking to our next knockoff Chinese feast, so a four and a half rings true to me.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pear Cinnamon Cider

"If it's clear and yella, you've got juice there, fella. If it's tangy and brown, you're in Cider Town."

A bit of Ned Flanders wisdom there...tangy and brown indeed. But this isn't apple cider. This is pear cider. Pear Cinnamon Cider to be exact. Tasty.

Now, I've always been a fan of cider. And I'm also a big advocate of the pear. It is, in my humble opinion, the most underrated fruit in the whole pantheon of sweet natural foods. I've got no problem with apples. It's just that I think they've had their day in the sun. Now it's pear's turn to shine. And this cider is a great place to start.

If you look at the ingredients on a lot of those 100% juice drinks that Dole and Ocean Spray and some of those other folks put out, especially the non-citrus flavors, you'll notice that quite often pear juice is one of the main ingredients, even if it's not one of the fruits mentioned in the title of the beverage. That's because it's naturally sweet. They don't need to use sugar or corn syrup if they use pear juice. Those juice brands unjustly deny the pear its due recognition, and instead attribute the flavor of the beverage to more popular fruits.

I've tried heating this, and it's not bad as a hot cider. But I think it's best when chilled. It has a really nice balance between the pear's sweetness and the cinnamon's spiciness. It's just a really refreshing drink. But it does have that sort of Autumnal vibe going on. Definitely want to have this again in 8 months when the leaves are just starting to turn colors.

Before I tried this, I had an idea in my head of what the perfect cold cider should taste like. Up to this point, all of the ciders I've tried throughout my life have been mere reflections - or shadows, if you will - of this: the ultimate cider. No other cider developer has come this close because most have striven to perfect a cider that comes from an apple. This beverage proves that cider was meant to come from a pear.

Sonia doesn't even like cider generally, but she really liked this. She gives it a 4. As a cider-lover, I say it's as close to cider perfection as you're gonna come this side of eternity. I give it a 5. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Baked Jalapeño Cheese Crunchies

So, this morning, for the first time since getting them from the Pennfield Middle School vending machine in roughly seventh grade, I ate an Andy Capps Hot Fry. One of my coworkers inexplicably bought a bag of them somewhere and was eating them for breakfast. It wasn't even 8 a.m. yet. I saw this, recalled not really liking them that much even in my more pimply faced days, and was just intrigued enough by the sight of my otherwise normal, relatively sane coworker munching down on them. This wasn't the first time I've seen people eating this type of stuff for breakfast. Six or seven summers ago, I came to Pittsburgh to work for the summer at an innercity youth day camp, and there was a sizable contingent of kids who would ignore the breakfast made for them and instead plow through small, quarter-priced bags of Flamin' Hot Cheetos. Anyways, I hate those, and when I crunched down on that Andy Capps Hot Fry, I was pretty glad to have some boss-bought chocolate chip cookies on hand to get that taste out.

And right around then, I remembered why I like TJ's Baked Jalapeño Cheese Crunchies so much.

Don't get me wrong, I love hot, spicy stuff. Ask any survivors of my death chili, they can attest to that. But too often, when attempted to be formulated into crunchy snack form, as in the case of the Capp fries and Flamin' Cheetos, the results are not so good. Instead of actual heat, they're just overly salted with red junk, or even worse, blasted with vinegary crap. I can pass up that stuff any time and not feel anything amiss in my life.

TJ's crunchy guys get the job done, and they do it right. The smallish jalapeño bits add just enough heat to be noticeable without trying to assault the tastebuds. Definitely some bits are more blasted with the green goodies than others, but it's balanced enough. I'd say they'd be agreeable to most palates heatwise, which I think is one of the major strengths of them. It's easy to be too spicy or not spicy enough, and alienate an audience either way. It's much tougher to try and strike the right balance, and Trader Joe does just that in this instance. As far as other flavor goes, it seems they opt to feature the jalapeño more than whatever type of cheese is on there, so if you're expecting a Cheeto clone in this regard, well, you may be disappointed. But in pretty much every other way, they're very Cheeto-like in appearance and crunch, which makes it pretty easy to gobble down more than intended. As a plus, there's no fake orangey dusty residue to scrub off or get all over your paperwork later. They're just a good, honest, crunchy, semi-hot snack.

Both Sandy and I like these quite a bit, and get them fairly often. With them being baked, they are a decent alternative healthwise to chips while still being a little naughty ... so yeah, they're a winner in these parts. Anything that tastes good and can make a claim to be healthyish (or at least "healthier" than an alternative) without sacrificing taste and goodness is something we'll continually deem worthy of our grocery dollars. That's how we roll.

When I asked Sandy for her rating, she simply said "Mmmmmm .... four." That seems a pretty worthy rating. If the cheese flavor was a little stronger, it'd be enough to bump the rating up another notch or two, but they're good enough as is to not quibble too much.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Chicken Tikka Masala

Loved it!!!

How about calling this Trader Jograj's Chicken Tikka Masala? It tastes just as authentic as the food from the best Indian restaurants I've been to. And that's saying a lot. I really like Indian food, and there are some killer Indian restaurants back in L.A., so my standard was set pretty high.

TJ's really went above and beyond with this dish. Everything down to the Basmati rice was phenomenal. The texture of the chicken is excellent, there's a good amount of sauce, and the real kicker is that they got the flavor right. The Indian spices that give Chicken Tikka Masala that unique taste were all present in the proper amounts and proportions. There might be some Indian restaurants in this country that can do slightly better with fresh ingredients and a hefty price tag, but if you're looking for better frozen, microwaveable Indian food than this, I think you're searching in vain.

Our side dish was Trader Joe's Channa Masala. This item is a noble effort on TJ's part, indeed, but I'm not quite as impressed with it as I was with the chicken. There's plenty of tasty masala sauce, and the chick peas are plentiful (or "Garbanzo beans," if you prefer), but they were a little too hard. They tasted fine, but they were just a bit stiff. I know I'm being pretty picky. It's a pretty tall order to ask for microwaveable Indian food that's on par with a gourmet restaurant. I think TJ's did the impossible with the Chicken Tikka Masala, and they came darn close with the Channa.

Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Tandoori Naan bread is in the same league as the masala dishes. It's almost too good to be true. Some huge Indian food connoisseurs might tell you the naan is better at their favorite 5 star Indian eatery, but again, we're talking about a grocery store product that's a fraction of the price that can be heated in the oven or microwave. I really can't complain. It's whole wheat, so it's good for you. It's a bit thicker than the naan I'm used to from Indian restaurants. I wouldn't say that's a weakness for it, though. It might not be identical to the most authentic naan's, but it's puffy and thick, and that gives it a heartier quality.

All in all, I'd say if you love Indian food, you'll love Trader Joe's, er, Trader Jograj's offerings. I highly recommend them...even if you're not familiar with Indian food, TJ's might be a good place to try out different dishes without making the same monetary investment you would at a fancy restaurant.

Trader Joe's Chicken Tikka Masala gets a 5 out of 5 from me. Sonia gives it a 4.5. Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Channa Masala, the Garbanzo bean dish, gets a 4 from me. 4 from Sonia. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Whole Wheat Tandoori Naan gets a 4.5 from me and a 5 from Sonia. Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Shepherd's Pie

On our last trip to Trader Joe's, Sonia and I decided to brave the high school cafeteria classic, Shepherd's Pie. This dish can be a big hit or miss kind of deal: if it's done right, there's a nice blend of textures and flavors, and a whole balanced meal all mixed together for you right there in one food item. If it's done wrong, you can get a nasty pile of mush that resembles a cross section of your backyard compost heap.

The TJ's brand winds up somewhere in the middle. It seems to follow the formula we've seen in many of the previous items we've reviewed: a frozen item that thaws nicely, has a decent texture overall, but winds up tasting a little bland for some reason. The item is moderately priced at $3.99, and it manages to avoid any weird aftertastes or sub-par ingredients. It might not look very big, but it was plenty of food for both of us.

Our two biggest complaints were lack of flavor and the choice to use shredded beef instead of ground beef. The meat wasn't bad, but really, I can't figure out how you could possibly get red meat to taste so bland. And it was just a bit stringy. I think ground beef works best for Shepherd's Pie. Somehow, none of the ingredients were flavorful. Peas, carrots, corn, green beans, mashed potatoes and beef should simply have more taste than this Shepherd's Pie offers.

But wait! Trader Joe's Jalapeño Pepper Hot Sauce to the rescue! Hot sauce helps anything. We figure this Shepherd's Pie must just be a shameless promotion for the TJ's hot sauce. We added salt and pepper, too, before we were really happy with the flavor. But, after the addition of said condiments, we really enjoyed our makeshift Mexican Shepherd's Pie.

We both give this a 3 out of 5. Shepherds are simple folk, and they might appreciate the lackluster taste of this dish. Cravers of more bold tastes might want to check it out to satisfy their curiosity, but they'll want to be heavily armed with hot sauce before they heat it up. Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe-San Tempura Chicken

Since becoming an amateur food-reviewing hack, I have become more and more aware of how little I know about food and its vocabulary. I realize I basically know nothing beyond the basics and American terms - like, okay, I get what a "burger" or "deep-fried and greasy" mean, but stuff from other cultures? Not so much.

Take, for instance, our Japanese friend Joe-San and his Tempura Chicken. A couple years ago, for the one and only time in my life, I went out for sushi and sampled many different types of rolls. California rolls were okay but didn't do too much for me, and I don't recall the names of any other type of roll I ate except some shrimp tempura ones. Sandy was pretty content to just stick to her fried rice. Those shrimp tempura rolls were pretty good, and I recall them being fairly spicy, so since then I have taken to assuming that the word "tempura" implies some level/type of spice. Well, turns out that's wrong as I found out after trying out this chicken. "Tempura" is actually a style meaning lightly battered and fried, with no implication of spicy hotness. Which, in turn, means that when I thought I was eating raw shrimp in the sushi, it was actually not, which means not all sushi is raw (to which Sandy says "duh"), which just leaves me a little confused, like I ventured a little too quickly down the rabbit hole.

Anyways, the tempura chicken .... meh. What caused me to look up the meaning of the word "tempura" was the flavor (or lack of existence thereof) of this particular dish. To make this stuff, you bake up a bagful of skimpily breaded chicken nuggets in the oven (you can also deep-fry, which I guess leaves it technically "tempura") and toss it around in some red sauce that comes in a packet you microwave and dunk in warm water. The chicken itself is decent - it turns out to be crispy and chickeny and all that good stuff. The sauce though - it doesn't do anything except put a coat of reddish goop on your dinner. It's just there and doesn't taste like anything. It's as worthless as a plot in a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. I tried a little bit of it by itself, and there is a faint, barely distillable sweet-sour taste like the package proclaims, but when put on chicken, the taste of the actual chicken easily overpowers it. It was only slightly discernible when eaten with plain white rice (not like there was much to spare .... Joe-San is a stingy guy saucewise). After a few bites, just to give it some flavor, Sandy and I dumped a few sprinkles of crushed red pepper on there. On a positive note, texture-wise you do end up with a plateful of chicken chunks that mirror what you'd expect from a Chinese restaurant, so it does have redeeming qualities. Given the choice between the two, I'd definitely recommend TJ's Mandarin Orange Chicken if you're in the mood for an inexpensive, easy-to-make semi-Asian inspired dinner.

Both Sandy and I are in agreement about it: We'd get it again, and wouldn't necessarily mind it, but we definitely wouldn't be upset if we pass it up on a fairly regular basis. Next time, we'd probably modify the sauce a little before combining it with the chicken ... I'd imagine some various chili peppers, maybe some Chipotle, cumin, black pepper ... wait, those aren't really Asian, and Sandy would be semi-upset that it wouldn't be right (I have a tendency to just dump whatever spices in, and they have to be at least semi-thematic for her) ... I have much to learn. Sandy gives them a 2.5 out of 5, and I agree. The taste just isn't quite there enough to rate them any higher.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Soup & Oyster Crackers

These are some versatile little fella's. You can just snack on them by themselves, or they go great on salads, or in soups. The side of the box mentions you can use them with "chowdah," just like that, with the New England accent already built into the word...They should have just gone ahead and made them "Traydah Joe's Soup and Oystah Crackahs."

I'm gonna go ahead and say they're great for "chyowdeh," too. I think that's how a New Yorker would say it (for Manhattan clam chowder).

They're crunchy, crumbly, crispy, and they're nice and bready. They have a great salty flavor, like a saltine cracker, but a little more hearty. And they're only 4.714 calories per cracker. I did the math myself.

There's this whole long story thing on the back of the box that goes into great detail about different ways to eat them just with New England clam chowder. You can sprinkle them on top or chase a spoonful of chowder with one of the crackers...and these crackers apparently have some torrid love affair with soup, not unlike that weird thing Russ has going on with the TJ's Peanut Brittle.

Sonia and I have eaten them plain, on a salad, and with our favorite, Trader Joe's Organic Tomato Bisque. They passed with flying colors in all three applications.

Before we wrap up, a few questions, Trader Joe: first of all, what's with the windmill? It looks like Holland. You got the polder there with the Zuiderzee in the background. All you need is a little Dutch boy with big wooden clogs. What, are they making Netherlands clam chowder now, too?

And secondly, why are they called oyster crackers? Do people eat them with oysters? I've only tried an oyster once, and it didn't have one of these crackers with it. Maybe I would have liked it better if it did, because I wasn't a huge fan. Were they ever made to taste like oysters? I looked in the ingredients, and there isn't an ounce of oyster in them. Are we supposed to think they look like oysters? Because they don't. Oysters are all oblong-ish and sort of silver gray usually. Shouldn't they be clam crackers, wheat crackers, or chowder crackers?

I suppose none of that matters. The Trader Joe's brand Soup & Oyster Crackers are a good buy. 4.5 out of 5 from each of us. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peanut Brittle

Dear Trader Joe's Peanut Brittle,

Um, I'm always terribly awkward when it comes to stuff like this. I haven't been trying to avoid you. I know you see me whenever I pass by in the grocery aisle, and probably want to get my attention, but I barely glance over and acknowledge you. I don't find you untasty or undesirable or anything like that - quite the opposite, in fact - but, I guess, because of me and who I am, I just need to move along. It's not you, certainly not you, it's ... just me.

Let me attempt to explain. I remember the first time I saw you, on a wooden shelf brimming of promise of tastiness and extra large peanuts. You simply looked marvelous and I could not resist grabbing a boxful and bringing you home as my wife-allotted "one treat" for the week. But then, once you came home, it was back to another wooden shelf. I let you get lost in a time of homemade cookies and treats and sweets and all sorts of great deliciousness the holiday season brings. I almost forgot about you - I mean, I knew you were there, but there were snickerdoodles and buckeyes and pizzelles and chocolate mint guys and, and .... and all this other stuff. I know you're technically not just a holiday treat, but I regarded you as an afterthought. Please forgive me for that. I mean, I know you're mass-produced for profit, not lovingly, thoughtfully handcrafted like others, but that doesn't mean you can't be amazingly delicious as well.

I remember when I first saw and experienced you for what you truly are. Sandy and I had munched our way through most of our cookies but needed some other treat to crunch on for one of our lazy couch-puppy-Netflix nights. She's the one who said, you know, maybe it's about time we gave you a try. I remember opening the box and foil package inside and then seeing you, beautiful, sweet, thick, nutty, salty, crunchy you, big pieces worthy of several mouthfuls mixed with small delightful bites. I have never seen a peanut brittle that looked like you. And your taste - oh, how it filled me with wonder, with salty-sweet comfort, with the thought of some how, some way, everything was just right with the universe at that moment (inside my mouth, at least). Amazing, like you meant for only me, except by the look in Sandy's eyes I knew she was having the same experience. Here I am, a former journalism major, one who trained and learned how to try and convey thoughts and truths into words on a page, and yet I feel a struggle to even words that sound like what I thought at that moment and time.

I know this sounds over-dramatic, and perhaps a little silly because our time together was so short (was it even ten minutes before Sandy and I ate every bit of you we had?), but I think I love you. No, I do. I do love you. You are perfect, absolutely perfect, and for those brief moments we truly shared, I will treasure forever.

But there's me here too. I know it may be tough for you to understand, being an inanimate food product and all, but I cannot buy you again, at least not on a regular basis. I just don't feel like I can control myself around you. If I buy you again, you'd be gone before I parallel-parked the Subaru outside my front door. There's a reasonable chance you might not make it through the checkout line. Mothers shopping there would have to shield the eyes of their small children from the sight of the wild-eyed, red bearded guy who could not stop from shoving you into my mouth. Sandy would have to decide between grabbing her own boxful or taking me on in a Hunger Games-esque death match for you. And we just can't have that. That, and I'm not sure how well you fit in a healthy balanced diet that I try to delude myself into thinking that I eat.

It's not you. It's me. It's a cliche, I know, but so true. I want you but know I cannot have you.

Please understand if next time I go to Trader Joe's, I don't buy you. I'll try to at least smile and nod in your direction, but even that, I fear, may tempt me beyond my boundaries. Please know what you have meant to me, and know that as long as I walk this earth, I will probably never ever find a peanut brittle as delicious, crunchy, nutty and satisfying as you. Never change.

From my heart,

R
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Seriously, this stuff is the shiznit. Buy at your own risk. Double fives.

Bottom line: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Jalapeño Pepper Hot Sauce

In our household, Tapatío has always been the prevailing hot sauce. I like Cholula and Texas Pete just as well, but I think my Hispanic wife really likes the Mexican man in the big sombrero on the Tapatío brand's bottle. He's a handsome little devil, isn't he?

Now, we have a new challenger. Trader Joe's Jalapeño Pepper Hot Sauce steps into the ring. Let's check him out.

Yet again, we gotta call TJ's out on the inconsistency of the brand name. This is a Mexican-inspired food product, so it should be from Trader José. If a dude named Joe offers me a jalapeño hot sauce and a different dude named José offers me another hot sauce, you can bet your burro's bottom I'm gonna pick the one José recommends.

And secondly, aren't jalapeños usually green? Then why are they red on the bottle? Maybe there are red jalapeños. The ones at Subway are always green and the ones on my nachos are always green. If there are red ones, I've never seen them.

But anyway. This sauce packs a potent punch. There's a little chili pepper meter on the side of the bottle, and it's like 7/8 red. That means it's 7/8 hot. The other 1/8 must be vinegar. Which is its only weakness.

It's got true jalapeño pepper flavor and it is most definitely spicy. It's not deathly spicy, though. It won't kill you. Even if you're a white person.

But if you totally don't like spiciness, then this isn't for you...not for the faint of heart, indeed. I can handle moderate quantities of it. I've become a little immune to hot stuff, but I definitely have my breaking point. And I've got some advice for you singles out there: if you're going to marry into a Mexican family, LIKE SPICY FOOD.

We've noticed that in PA there is a much lower tolerance to spice than in CA. All the German and English heritage around here has propagated a love of bland-ish foods. Bratwurst, sauerkraut, and beer is probably the boldest meal the Quakers and the Pennsylvania Dutch can handle. Although...I don't think either one of those groups drinks beer at all...hmmm...So there's that, then.

Getting back to the topic, this hot sauce is tasty and spicy and it pretty much does what it's supposed to do. Not sure if we've seen him upset our reigning champ, Tapatío, quite yet. But he's a contender, that's for sure.

Use it to give your nachos some extra kick. Or your burrito...or your...whatever. You get the idea. Sonia gives it 4 out of 5 Stars. Same here. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Apple Sauce

No complaints on this one. I guess if it's really organic, and it's really apples, there's not a whole lot you can do with this product....other than add cinnamon. There's also Trader Joe's Organic Apple Sauce with Cinnamon.

The texture is just a bit chunky...in a good way. It's not like you're getting huge apple pieces in there, but the sauce isn't perfectly smooth, either. It's got some substance.

4 little cups are $1.99. That's a little cheaper than what you'd get in a normal grocery store, and the leading brands aren't organic as far as I know. I like the cinnamon version waaaay better than the plain. Not that the plain is terrible...it's just plain.

Sonia likes the plain better. She likes that it's so stripped down and has nothing added, except for some "organic natural flavor." Hmmm...What exactly does that mean, TJ? It could be bugs for all we know.

Great for a snack. Or to put on your porkchops or whatever.

Sonia gives the Trader Joe's (plain) Organic Apple Sauce a 4.5. I give it a 3.5, for a bottom line of: 8 out of 10.

I give Trader Joe's Organic Apple Sauce with Cinnamon a 4.5. Sonia gives it a 4. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Mmm. Applicious.

Trader Joe's Oven Ready Breaded Cod Fillets

Well, 'allo guv'ner! Do I fancy these fish fillets? They're rawther lovely, I say!

I felt like I was in a British pub when we cooked up our Trader Joe's fish and chips meal last night. It consisted of these cod fillets, Trader Joe's Crinkle Wedge Potatoes, and Trader Joe's Tartar Sauce. The only thing we needed was a pint of lager, but alas, until the great commonwealth of Pennsylvania reforms their laws about liquor licenses, TJ's doesn't sell beer at any of their Keystone State locations...so we made due with Diet Pepsi.

Anyhow, I was a big fan. I like fish. But I don't like fish to taste fishy. It should be flakey, light, and soft. And that's exactly how these cod fillets were. If tuna is the chicken of the sea, then this stuff is...I dunno, turkey breast of the sea? It may not lend itself to a proper Jessica Simpson-confounding land animal metaphor, but its taste and texture make up for that, and then some.

Next, let's look at the potato wedge dealies...So technically, they're "Trader Joe's Pacific Northwest Crinkle Wedge Potatoes." The "Pacific Northwest" part doesn't really work with our British fish and chips theme, but I liked them nonetheless. I really liked them, actually. They weren't greasy at all, just crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and lots of fresh potato taste. Scrump-dilly-icious. I ate mine with ketchup, but they're fine without it, too.

Sonia mentioned a strange aftertaste from these fries that I most certainly did not experience. Maybe she has more sensitive taste buds than I do. I really can't complain about their taste at all.


And finally, we tried the Trader Joe's Tartar Sauce.

That clipper ship on the bottle sure looks like it could be headed back to Great Britain, loaded up with treasures from faraway lands. I imagine the captain of her majesty's ship kneeling down at the Queen's throne and handing her this bottle: a royal condiment for the royal fish n' chips dinner.

Now, I haven't tried many name brand tartar sauces. And if I have, I haven't taken notice of which brands they were. Tartar sauce is certainly not my favorite condiment. The only time I ever eat it is with fish fillets. But all I can say is that this is the best tartar sauce I ever remember trying. As far as I'm concerned, it is indeed suited for royalty...and slovenly middle-class American dudes that like fatty fixins on their fried fish.

So, for the Trader Joe's Oven Ready Breaded Cod Fillets: I give them a 4.5 out of 5. Sonia gives them a 4. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

As for the Trader Joe's Pacific Northwest Crinkle Wedge Potatoes, I give them a 4.5 out of 5. Sonia gives them a 3.5. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

And the Trader Joe's Tartar Sauce gets a 5 out of 5 from me. Sonia gives it a 4. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Fat Free Caribbean Fruit Floes

If you're one of those people that doesn't like to eat frozen treats in the winter because it's too cold, to you I say just turn up the heat and pretend you're on vacation in the Caribbean, kick back, and enjoy some Trader Joe's popsicles.

I know they're not really popsicles. They're "floes." Whoever Flo is, I'm not sure. Maybe Flo-rida? The state? The rapper? "Trader Joe's Fruit Floes" does rhyme. This time the jingle should be reggae-style, and they should have a singing monkey and a lady in one of those tall fruit hat things like the one the Chiquita banana girl wears.

At any rate, these "floes" come on wooden popsicle sticks, they have chunks of fruit, but are mostly frozen fruit juice. Sounds just like a popsicle to me. But a very good popsicle, I must admit.

If you've ever tried the Caribbean popsicles from Target (the Archer Farms brand), these are exactly the same thing. I like them both. They're very natural, pretty much all fruit bits and fruit juices, and as the label suggests, there's no fat! There's pear juice, orange juice, bits of mango, guava, pineapple, and strawberries. They're basically the orange-yellow color you see on the box. And they taste that way, too. They taste orange-yellow. Not like artificial color-style orange-yellow taste, but all natural-style orange-yellow taste...if that makes any sense.

Get 4 for $1.99.

I give them a 4.5 out of 5. Sonia didn't try them because I was under the impression she wasn't interested in guava-based Caribbean treat thingies. That, and I'm a gluttonous popsicle hog. I believe Russ has set a precedent to simply double up on points when only a single reviewer has tasted the product, so we'll just go ahead and do that. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Peach and Blueberry Panna Cotta

Shouldn't this be part of the Trader Giotto's line? It's Italian, isn't it?

I like to call these "Pannacotta Warriors" (ya'know, like the Terracotta Warriors from China?) Except these ominous soldiers of dessert ward off the sweet tooth munchies instead of potential tomb-robbers.

At 270 calories and 13g of fat, they're not exactly a "lite" dessert option, but they're not terrible, considering what you get...

There are peaches and blueberries, each covered in a delectable syrupy sauce, and then there's that creamy white stuff...it really tastes like high-quality custard. Considering it comes frozen, and that it only costs about $3 for two, it's surprisingly delicious.

You're supposed to defrost them for a while in the fridge, and then turn them upside down to pop them out of their little black plastic molds. I like to eat them straight out of the plastic. It's kind of like fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt, but waaaay more tasty and more fattening. I also like them only partially thawed. They're half way between ice cream and pudding that way.

My favorite side is the blueberry side. Although, the peach is nothing to complain about. Sonia likes them both equally.

$3 might seem expensive in grocery land, but if you'd buy these guys at an Italian restaurant, you'd pay at least twice as much, and you'd be lucky if you got something tastier than this. I give them Four and a half Stars out of Five, and Sonia gives them the same. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Honey Wheat Pretzel Sticks

So Nathan and I, along with our much better looking wives, are pretty major Trader Joe's fans if you haven't picked up on it by now. But not everyone shares our fandom of the nation's best grocery store. As any other major corporation (which, make no mistake, TJ's definitely is), they certainly have their share of critics. One large critique I have heard is, for a company that boasts a lot about its healthy and organic food, they are pretty opaque about their food origins, down to the point that they're pretty tight-lipped about which food companies even manufacture their food and slap a Trader Joe label on it for them. I think this is pretty understandable. Sandy and I just Netflixed up "Food Inc." last week - tremendous documentary about food origins and how separated we, as society are from the sources of our meals. It's easy to think a steak came from the plastic-wrapped Styrofoam tray at the store, not a cow forcefed feed that isn't natural for them while ankledeep in, well, let's say fertilizer. Most companies who purport themselves to be healthy and organic and freerange (I sum this up in one word: "happy") are much more transparent about where and how their food is prepared. This prompted me to march down to TJ's in look for answers. I wanted to know where at least one thing came from.

Well, lo and behold, I actually found an answer.

It's Ludwig! Ludwig makes Trader Joe branded pretzels! It even says so right on the bag, in plain print, that Ludwig is Trader Joe's head pretzel guy! Beyond that, this Ludwig guy seems pretty cool - very happy, orthodontically sound, and immensely talented. I mean, look at that cool pretzel balancing act he does. I think I'd like to hang out with a guy like this and knock back a Bierstiefel or two of dopple bock, though considering his outfit, I'd pick the bar. But if he brought his trademark Honey Wheat Pretzel Sticks, after a few steins of Rheinheitsgebot goodness and rounds of Ein Prosit, I'd forgive his lederhosened and purple-garbed self and have one heckuva time. Zicke zacke zicke zacke hoi hoi hoi indeed.

Semi-questionable German origins aside, these are pretty darn good pretzels. Much better than their hard multigrain pretzel disasters, whose only good use I have found is to grind them down and use as traction for your car when stuck on ice. Sorry, Ludwig, those were a misfire. But these, man, these are good. Good, crunchy bite to them, and not hard or dried out at all, just right for a good pretzelicious snack. The wheat taste is definitely present but not overwhelmingly so, and there's a good, subtle salt-to-honey ratio whose flavor doesn't linger long but is just so appealing. They're low-fat and relatively low sodium for pretzels, so that's a plus. They're just all around, good-in-pretty-much-every-way pretzel sticks, and the best I've found so far at TJ's.

I'd imagine, all jokes aside, that they would be pretty good matched up with a variety of brews. Sandy and I regularly pick these up, mostly for me to pack along with lunches, so I haven't had much opportunity to test that theory because I plow through them so quickly. Sandy's just glad to have had a chance to try them out because again, the bag rarely lasts too long and by the time she's in the mood for them, they're usually gone. When I gave her a handful of sticks to try out, after a few bites she intoned "These are goooood" and gave me a smile which I took to mean that she understood why I usually kept them for myself. We decided just on our weekly TJ run this morning that we were each going to get our own cereal, and I wouldn't be surprised if we may have to end up getting our own bags of pretzels too. Well, probably not, but we both really enjoyed them and munched about a third of a bag between the two of us while I wrote this review. Sandy gives them a four out of five, which I think is just about right.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Jacques' Ham and Cheese Croissant Sandwiches

Yay! Another "international" TJ's product. This time it's from Joe's arrogant French chef friend, Jacques. No, I don't think all French are arrogant. Of the many French people I've met, only one or two were arrogant, and the rest were friendly, down-to-earth folk.

However, we know that this Jacques fellow is an arrogant jerk. Just look at that fancy type-face on the box. It's a ham and cheese sandwich for cryin' out loud. You stick it in a croissant, and what, you think we're eating gourmet all of a sudden!? At $4.69 for two of them, they darn well better be gourmet...2 frozen ham and cheese sandwiches for $5...<huff> the arrogance! Pretentious Frenchious.

(Again, I have no problems with the French. I've been to Paris, and I thought the people were lovely.)

And what kind of person puts 95% of the US RDA for saturated fat in ONE ham and cheese sandwich!!?? An arrogant one, that's for sure! No ham and cheese sandwich is worth that much fat, not even one as scrumptious as this. Maybe the French national RDA for saturated fats is much higher than ours...? Somehow I doubt it.

But they are pretty yummy. Their taste almost justifies their fattiness. The cheese and croissant bread are pretty indulgent, and they come out soft and fluffy. But, there's not nearly enough ham inside. It's like they took one single ham cold cut slice and hid it beneath layers of bread and cheese. (Oh, but it's "Black Forest Ham," straight from the Schwarzwald of Bavaria, I'm sure.) Wait, isn't that in Germany? Shouldn't Jacques have chosen Bayonne Ham instead?

There aren't any cooking options that don't involve the oven. You may thaw it in the microwave, but you've got to fire up that big bad boy and bake it proper for at least 30 minutes.

These might be an option if you're really looking for a once-in-a-great-while kind of treat...but at 34g of fat (19 of which is saturated fat), and 550 calories per sandwich, it's just not worth it, in my opinion. Also, the 30+ minutes to cook them and the nearly $5 price tag make these puffy little pastry sandwiches a pass.

I give them 3 out of 5 Stars. Sonia gives them a 3 as well. Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Twigs, Flakes & Clusters

Growing up in my family, it was pretty easy to tell which parent made the grocery store trek for the week simply based on the cereal on the pantry shelf. If my mom made the trip, we’d be stock full of Cheerios, Chex, Special K, and stuff like that. If she felt wild and crazy, it meant it was time for Crispix. My dad, on the other hand, loved his Cocoa Puffs and would always snag a box when given the chance. One time, he must have found one heckuva coupon and came back with at least six boxes of them, a boatload of Trix, and who knows what other kind of sugary goodness galore. I’m sure he got at least a good Marge Simpson-esque groan when my mom found out. One of my favorite memories from growing up is, on my birthday one year before my mom woke up, my dad made me an awesome ice cream sundae with all the fixings and added Cheerios so we could semi-truthfully tell her that I had Cheerios for breakfast. It’s kind of how my folks were, and they’ve peacefully coexisted and enjoyed each other’s company for 35-plus years despite not always seeing eye-to-eye on breakfast cereal choice.

I kinda am beginning to see a similar pattern developing with Sandy and I, with the two of us playing the same roles. Sandy loves her healthy, plain, simple cereals. I, on the other hand, immensely enjoy chomping down on pretty much any cereal with chocolate, marshmallows, copious amounts of sugar, and/or a deluge of artificial food color and flavor (i.e., anything with “Froot” in its name). If it makes my teeth hurt afterwards, all the better. This is what you get when you have sundaes with cereal for breakfast in your formative years. This isn’t to say that sometimes Sandy doesn’t get a little swayed into having a bowl or baggie of my choice of stuff, or that I can’t enjoy some of the healthy stuff, but when making our cereal choices, we both definitely have our tendencies. We found a happy medium at TJ's with the Honey Nut O’s, but my buddy Nathan already reviewed them, and though his post is relatively pretty short compared to even this one so far, I agree with it enough to not step on his toes and re-review it. So on our latest Trader Joe trip, Sandy and I set out to find another cereal to try out for this week.

It was kinda hiding in an almost-embarrassed kind of way on the bottom shelf, but my eyes spotted the box of Twigs, Flakes & Clusters and thought it just might be worth the try. There were no cartoon characters trying to tempt me into rotting my teeth out, so I’m not sure why it did, but it did and Sandy thought it sounded good to her, the ever sensible one, too.

The Twigs, Flakes & Clusters aren’t too bad. I’ll start with the positives. As far as cereal goes, it’s pretty healthy - lots of fiber, protein, important stuff like that. Low sodium, too. Usually when I wake up, I have the appetite of a bear coming out of hibernation and when cereal is on the breakfast menu, I eat one-and-a-half decent sized bowls of whatever. Because this stuff is so fiber dense, it filled me up with eating a lot less, and it carried through from about 6:30 a.m. when I ate it to about 11:30 a.m., which is a personal record. That’s a big plus, and I liked the fact it was crunchy all the way to the last bite instead of degenerating into mushy nastiness. A rough, pre-caffeine content analysis says this stuff is probably about 75% Twigs, 20% Flakes, and 5% Clusters. Though I certainly would have liked more of the tasty oat clusters, I didn’t mind all the Twigs because they’re what maintained the crunchiness (think Chinese-ish lo mein noodles from a canister, and they’re roughly like them, except better), while the flakes drowned and sank in the milk by the end.

As for the downside … they don’t necessarily taste bad, but they could be better. The twigs, flakes and clusters actually have some decent flavor by themselves to them that could have been enhanced by maybe a little sugar or some honey. I was thinking that maybe some nuts or berries might have helped, but then, they’d probably have to opt for a different name (think about it). After glancing at the ingredients, I think it’s a matter of them trying to be a little fancy. Instead of one of the aforementioned choices, TJ”s opted to try to sweeten them with stuff like pineapple juice. Also it lists “organic evaporated cane juice” - I realize that’s probably different then the overly refined, bleached granules you can pour out of a bag of Domino’s, but still, that’s sugar. Actually, I know it’s different because of the overall aftertaste - between that and the pineapple juice, it’s vaguely sweet, almost tinny, and definitely weird because the twigs, etc, don’t taste all that sweet when biting in - a little sweet, sure, but enough to warrant such an aftertaste. For me, it’s somewhat off-putting, and while it may not prohibit me from getting another bowl, the jury’s out in regards to another box.

True to form, Sandy likes this stuff a fair amount. It’s the healthy aura, the crunch, and the fact that it also filled her up for a full morning as well. She had nothing negative to say about the taste, so maybe it’s just me, but she didn’t say anything overwhelmingly positive about it either. She claims one of her kids at the school she teaches at loves this stuff, or at least twigs in general. She gives the Twigs, Flakes & Clusters a solid 3.5 out of 5. I can’t quite say the same but I’ll give them some extra credit for the texture where the taste falls short to give them a respectable 2.5.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Seasoned Beef Sirloin Carne Asada

When Sonia made tacos last night, she chopped up little pieces of peppers to add to our carne asada. Don't let the package deceive you: there's nothing but meat in this $7 bag o' beef.

Overall, our taco dinner wasn't bad. But we dressed it up with tortillas, salsa, the aforementioned peppers, and some refried pinto beans, and we still found it slightly wanting.

The quality of the meat simply doesn't warrant its price tag. If you're going to buy carne asada, TJ's might not be the first place to do it. Again, it's not terrible, but for $7, I want something I can create a ficticious adjective for and put a few exclamations after ("Tastetastic!!!" or "Stupidelicious!!!"). "Not terrible" just isn't good enough. The texture of the meat wasn't really an issue for either of us, it was more its lack of flavor. Maybe the guy on the assembly line that was supposed to add the seasoning to the "seasoned beef" called in sick the day they packaged our bag. The poor cow that gave its life for last night's taco dinner died in vain. Rest in peace, Bessy.

To be fair, we should mention that the 12 oz. bag did provide well more than enough food for the two of us. There are still leftovers in the fridge.

The tortillas that served as the soft taco shells were decent. Trader Jose's Reduced Carb Whole Wheat Flour Tortillas are light and healthy, but again, I would complain that they're not super-flavorful. Some whole wheat products can really add a grainy, almost nutty taste. These didn't add or detract much in the flavor department, but their texture is near-perfect, they're a nice size for filling with taco ingredients, and they don't fall apart as you eat them.

The refried pinto beans are good. Sonia says a lot of other brands of refried beans have a bunch of preservatives and additives, but Trader Jose's Low Fat Vegetarian Refried Pinto Beans are all natural. (Please note: your meal no longer qualifies as vegetarian if you eat this with carne asada.) I like the taste. Just as good as anything else I've tried in the refried bean department.

And finally, we'd like to take a look at the sauce we used: Trader Jose's Habanero and Lime Salsa. The package says "Medium Hot" but Sonia and I both say it's mild. It's a tad vinegar-y for our taste, but it's got that dash of lime "sabor," and it's something different than the run-of-the-mill tomato-based salsa. It's got bits of vegetable matter, but it can't really be considered chunky.

So, let's review: First we looked at Trader Joe's Seasoned Beef Sirloin Carne Asada: Sonia gives it 3.5 Stars and I give it 3, for a bottom line of 6.5 out of 10.

Then, we talked about the Trader Jose's Reduced Carb Whole Wheat Flour Tortillas. They get a 4 from Sonia and a 3.5 from me, yielding a bottom line of 7.5 out of 10.

Next up: Trader Jose's Low Fat Vegetarian Refried Pinto Beans. 4 from Sonia, 4.5 from me. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

And finally, Trader Jose's Habanero and Lime Salsa. Sonia gives it a 3, and so do I. Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Oats and Flax Instant Oatmeal

Toot toot! Hear that? I was pretty sure that was the whistle blowin' on the train headed for Blandville. And I was pretty sure this Oats and Flax nonsense was going to be my ticket there.

However, I wound up in a much more pleasant town. We'll call it Tastyburg. Mayor: Trader Joe, Points of interest: flavor and whole grain goodness.

Silly, I know. But it's high time we reviewed this oatmeal. Sonia's been eating it for months now. I was a little reluctant...a little scared even. I just tried it for the first time today, and I was pleasantly surprised.

Sonia and I both make ours with milk and water, although the box only calls for water (Who makes oatmeal with just water? Blech.) Texture-wise, it's got enough body to keep your teeth busy; it's not just a bunch of mush. There's a pleasant mix of flax seeds in with the oats. It's "hardy." ...or is it "hearty"? Well, it's one of those...you get the idea.

The flavor was what I was really worried about. I like brightly-colored, fancy oatmeals and breakfast cereals with fluorescent, fruit-shaped pieces made of high-fructose corn syrup and partially-hydrogenated oils. But it is the new year and that resolution about being healthier is still fresh in my brain, so I braved the oats and flax.

It was surprisingly sweet. They do add cane juice solids to liven it up a bit. It was a little nutty, too. It reminded me of the maple and brown sugar flavored oatmeal that Quaker offers, but I actually liked this one even more. It made me feel all warm inside and gave me a good start to the day. If that Wilford Brimley guy had ever tried this stuff, he surely would have ditched Quaker and started doing commercials for TJ's brand. Is he still alive? C'mon, somebody get Wilford Brimley's agent on the phone!

Anyway, Sonia gives it Four and a half Stars out of Five. I give it Four out of Five Stars. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.