Trader Joe's Gluten Free Brownie Baking Mix

Over the past 4 months or so, Sonia and I have been slowly trying to phase gluten out of our diets. We noticed that eating normal wheat products makes us feel nasty and bloated. I know from having food allergies as a kid that eating the same things over and over every day can actually cause sensitivity to those foods, and wheat is one of those ubiquitous ingredients that just seems impossible to avoid completely.

We still have some wheat and gluten in our diet as of now, but we've been on a mission to figure out what foods, if any, we can find legitimate gluten-free substitutes for. We both agree that we feel better when we don't eat gluten, so we're hoping to have as little as possible.

Anyway, it's not like we have brownies a lot to begin with, but we thought we'd try a gluten-free dessert. This bag o' brownie seemed like it was worth a shot.

Sonia added an egg, oil, and water, as per the instructions on  the bag. She also got adventurous and threw in some Trader Joe's Sliced Almonds. She wound up baking it for 40 minutes (10 minutes more than the package recommends) and then we sliced it up and ate it with some Trader Joe's Vanilla Ice Cream.

My first impression was that these were the funkiest brownies I had ever eaten. Not too shabby in the flavor department, but the texture was ... hmmm ... just a little abnormal. The words "chewy" and "gummy" came to mind. The almonds added a familiar crunchiness that really helped the overall consistency of the product. I highly recommend adding nuts if you ever try making these.

But still, squeezing the brownies with my fingers, cutting through them with a fork, or biting into them all pointed to the same conclusion: that these brownies wanted to be something other than brownies. I wasn't sure what they wanted to be...little brown sponges? tiny sections of weird skin for monster makeup? big chocolatey marshmallows?

In the end, I decided that they felt like marshmallows. Partly because the other people partaking of them with me at the time agreed with that assessment, and partly because that mode of thinking still allowed me to mentally file these brownies under "appetizing."

Sonia didn't mind the funkiness as much as I did. She certainly noticed it, but it didn't ruin the experience for her. And, as I mentioned before, they came pretty close to nailing the flavor of a good non-gluten-free brownie (or "glutenful" brownie, if you prefer) and Sonia agrees. She gives them a 4. I gotta go a little lower and give them a 3. These brownies are a respectable accomplishment in gluten-free science, but they've got a ways to go before I'd ever recommend them to someone over a normal brownie. Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Something a Little Different ... With a Contest Attached!

So, you probably know by now that we here at WGATJ's usually like to take up 5 to 10 minutes of your web-browsing day by posting reviews filled to the brim with tangents, non sequiturs, absurdity, randomness, and a healthy dose of snarkiness mixed in with whatever we think of the latest thing we bit and chewed from TJ's. Today's a little different. I cannot speak much for Nate, but I, Russ, like Sears, have a softer side.

This week is my granny's birthday. That's her, over there, holding my nephew a few months after he was born, in one of the last "good" pictures I could find of her. You see, it's more accurate to say this week would have been her birthday. She passed away early last May after nearly a 30 year battle against multiple sclerosis (MS). I'm fortunate and lucky in a lot of ways, because I had the unique privilege while growing up of having my granny live with my family on a side apartment my parents built for her. I got to see her literally everyday. She instilled a lot of things in me - she taught me everything I knew about Scrabble, and she taught me what it means to be a devoted fan of the Philadelphia Phillies, which wasn't always the easiest in the post-Mike Schmidt/pre-butt-kickin' years.

But she taught me much more than that. I'm just old enough to remember her having the ability to walk with the assistance of a walker or cane, and her having the mobility to go places on a motorized scooter. We actually went up the street sometimes on her scooter, just the two of us, to go get some ice cream. Slowly, as the MS sapped her strength, she became wheelchair bound, then to her bed, then to a nursing home, to specialized wheelchair after specialized wheelchair, and finally (almost exclusively) to a bed. It's hard to see someone who you love so much go through all of that. But my granny did, and she did so without questioning or complaining or wondering "Why me?" and without self pity. In fact, she focused almost exclusively on what she had - a strong faith, a family that cared for her deeply and visited often with news, her needs provided for, Harry Kalas on the Phillies broadcast - and not what she didn't - use of one side of her body, muscle strength, the ability to fully take care of herself. It is not only her life but also the way she lived that has taught me about love, faith, courage, and what the Sunday School lyric of "(we) are weak but He is strong" truly means. I love her and miss her dearly, but I know now, free from the shackles of her body, she is truly in a better place, laughing and dancing and looking out over her family still.

It's in honor of my granny's memory and legacy that this June, I'm participating in the Western PA chapter of the National MS Society's BikeMS: Escape to the Lake, a two-day, 135 mile bike ride benefit event. Yes, it's kind of a crazy event which I've been training for, but my participation in the event is not about me. It's about funding research to try and find a prevention or cure for this debilitating disease that affects hundreds of thousands of people in the U.S. alone, over 7000 of whom reside in southwest PA. It's about the providing for them the treatment and equipment they need to make through their day and their lives. Most of all, it's about being a part of something that says to the individuals and families affected by MS that there's a community out there who knows about the pains and trials of the disease, and who loves and supports them and wants to offer them hope.

I know with these times and current events that there's a lot of great causes vying for your hard-earned money, but as this is one that has struck me, I would like to ask that you consider supporting me for my ride. There's a link at the end of this that is my personal fundraising page that also offers some more details on what I'm undertaking here. Please, consider it, and any amount you could give will go towards making a significant difference. Seriously, even if everyone reading this gave the $6 I told you to not waste on the turkey meatloaf muffins ... I cannot fathom the positive change that would affect in this world.

To entice you (this is where the contest part comes in ...), anyone who donates gets entered into a drawing, and whoever wins can pick out literally ANY Trader Joe product and as long as I can track it down, I will review it. Nominate your favorite, or something you're curious about, or something you think is gawd-awful and want me to tear a new one on, go for it. It can't be any worse than those meatloaf muffins ... can it? Deadline for this contest is through the end of this month, though I believe donations can be accepted up through the start of the bike ride, which is the second weekend of June.

Anyways, thank you for reading our blog, for reading this entry in particular, and for considering donating towards this cause. Together, we can help rid the world of MS, once and for all.

Peace,

Russ

Fundraising webpage link: Click here

Trader Joe's Red Chili Pepper

Well, it's been a hot minute since our last TJ's run, as you may have guessed by the seemingly trivial nature of today's product review. But hey, it's a Trader Joe's brand food product...and we do have a category dedicated to condiments, thus it meets all the necessary criteria and we shall review it. I thought about skipping another day. Russ picked up my slack last week, and even on days when there's no new entry, we're still getting some hits. We're still providing extensive info about TJ's foods with our impressive backlog of reviews and suggestions...

But no, that's not good enough. Today, I decided there would be a new review. I scoured the kitchen for a product that I had been overlooking. I rummaged through the cupboards searching...seeking...hunting for something to review. I remembered our unspoken creed:

"We are husbands and sons, and wives and daughters (Russ and I aren't wives or daughters so much, but Sandy and Sonia, while not official bloggers, totally help us out with this site), who everyday go about our lives with keen taste buds, discerning palates, and a limited knowledge of the culinary arts which is often supplemented by Google searches and visits to Wikipedia. And neither faulty internet connections, nor computer crashes, nor busy schedules, nor gloom of dissheveled kitchen, nor the winds of change in the stockroom at the local Trader Joe's, nor a nation divided by ridiculous partisan politics, will stay us from the swift completion of our somewhat regular 3-5 blog entries per week. Usually."

And those inspiring words rose up in my heart, just as I triumphantly grasped this bottle of TJ's Red Chili Pepper and resolved to blog, blog, wholeheartedly blog!

Anyway, these pepper flakes are OK I guess.

Actually, I'm just joking. They're really quite good. I mean...I remember being at one of the original, oldschool freestanding Pizza Hut's back in the 1980's. I got my free grease-laden personal pan cheese pizza for reading some Amelia Bedelia and Berenstain Bears through the "Book It!" program. The pizza was the best thing I had ever tasted. And when I dumped some of the big red pepper flakes from that sparkly glass shaker on top of my pizza pie, it tasted even better. Sure, my tongue burned and my eyes watered, but I was too happy to care.

Well, these flakes are a throwback to those Pizza Hut pepper flakes from the 80's. I suppose they still serve big red pepper flakes at Pizza Hut, but I haven't been there in forever, and I know if I would return, it wouldn't be as good as it was back then and I'd be disappointed.

Furthermore, the sleek black and gold label on the TJ's version bestows words of deep wisdom, such as "Crushed Red Peppers are hot and should be used with discretion." The same font they used on that Spanish treasure map in "The Goonies" boasts that this Red Chili Pepper is part of the "Spices of the World" collection...not to be missed by any world traveler or Trader Joe's aficianado.

Delicious. Exotic. Worldly. Adventurous. Try some.

Sonia gives it a 4. I give it a 4.5. 

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10. Really darn good.

Trader Joe's Coconut Shrimp

So a little while ago I made a list of things that didn't make sense to me. I'd like to add two more things, and in fact, I can't believe they didn't make the original rundown ... somehow they musta slipped my mind. Anyways, two things: First, who thought it was a good idea to position the number zero and the letter O right-freakin'-on-top of each other on your keyboard. At work where I mash buttons indiscriminately all day, I find myself continually pushing the wrong one mucking things up. Stupid nonsensical QWERTY keyboards. Secondly: how are fish and shrimp, clams, lobsters, etc, not universally considered meat? I'm not talking about the Lent/Catholicism/religious tradition issue as much as there seems to be different classes of vegetarianism where, depending on what you choose to believe, seafood either is or is not meat. I've asked several vegetarian friends* of mine about this, and they either stare blankly at me and really don't explain it, or I get an explanation that fish don't feel pain, they don't have blood, so it doesn't harm them. That sounds a little, well, fishy to me. To me, it's clearcut ... all those creatures have mom and dads, they were born/hatched at some point, they lived, breathed, ate, and pooped. At some point, somebody caught them and they died en route to my dinner plate. I don't know how we can determine that one type of animal feels pain while another doesn't, and as far as I know with my very limited zoological knowledge, fish gotta have at least some sort of blood-type system to keep them ticking. It was an animal. Animals are made of meat. Ergo, when I am eating a fish, I am eating meat.

Except ... enough people consider them not to be to create a loophole I will exploit. And Sandy agrees enough to allow us seafood while abstaining from meat during Lent. It's getting towards the end, I miss meat more than just about anything (I've told Sandy I want cheeseburgers, not jelly beans in my Easter basket), so I've been trying to check out some different Trader Joe seafood stuffs. When we went shopping on Monday, I definitely felt too strong an urge to not leave the store without something that used to have a face. Shrimp has always been my far-and-away favorite ocean animal to chomp on down on, so spotting this battered tasty-looking Coconut Shrimp required little to no thought.

Well, it's not bad, but it's definitely a little weird/not quite what we expected it to be. We've had coconut-battered shrimp before, and it's always been the shaved coconut mixed in with the breadcrumbs variety. The Trader Joe's tastes like coconut milk was either used as a base for the batter, or that the shrimpy guys were heavily saturated with it prior to crumbing it up. The result of this is this interesting mix of textures ... the fleshy-ness of the shrimp, the creaminess of the milk, and the crispy greasiness of the batter. It's definitely strange, especially the first bite when it's not expected. I didn't mind it too much, but Sandy was a little put off by it. But the taste itself is fairly gratifying. I've come to really enjoy things like rice prepared with coconut milk (coincidentally our side dish last night, with the mango-from-the-picture's cousin chopped up and mixed in) as it adds this creamy, slightly sweet, kinda ethereal dimension of flavor. The coconut with the shrimp did much of the same .... decently good, though when mingled with the batter I found myself wondering if the whole combination was the best idea. I thought the shrimp itself was good, not great. Each one was about a bite-and-a-half sized, definitely fresh and clean tasting, and not too salty/mushy/gritty like I've tasted with other store brands at other places. Sandy said she had one that tasted pretty fishy to her, though. I didn't notice that for any of mine, but the fact that she let me finish her allotment up told me she wasn't the biggest fan. I was so hungry for anything resembling meat I plowed them all down (mostly because I doubted they'd be any better reheated), and I think I managed to eat a tail or two by mistake. Yuck.

I can see us giving these a try again sometime to see if we like them any better then, now that we know a little more what to expect. Still, for now, Sandy could muster up giving them only a 2 because of the oddball texture and fishy tidbit. I'll grade them a little higher, but pantheon-bound these are not. The milky/creamy thing docks them down a little, not just because of the texture but also because it made the batter not stick to the shrimp as well as it should have, causing some half-naked pieces and extra scrubbing for the baking sheet. Also, I appreciated the product overall, but just wasn't left with enough of a glowing impression to recommend them too highly. I found myself enjoying the rice side dish more than my shrimp ration, and if you had any idea how much rice we've eaten recently ... Sounds like a 3.5 from me, though I'd totally get if you think we rated these too low.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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*I think some (not all) of my vegetarian friends ascribe to the theory that it is okay to only eat animals that cannot be considered cute and/or cuddly. I've heard people describe pigs, cows, and even chickens (though they are nasty little birds) as such, but never heard of anyone wanting to cuddle up with a fish or lobster or crab. So perhaps that's an argument for being cool with eating meat that swims. Hey, whatever works.

Trader Joe's Organic Mango Passion Granola Cereal

So last Thursday, Sandy and I both took off from work for the day to go to the Pittsburgh Pirates' home opener. The two of us are both pretty hardcore baseball fans, especially when going to see games in person. Our friend Ryan, however, is probably the biggest, most hardcore Pirates aficionado in the entire metro area, and he organized a pregame tailgate for the game where Sandy and I, some of our mutual friends, and some of his coworkers were invited. Beautiful day, so Sandy and I decided to add to the fun by biking down to the game as we live only a handful of miles down a rec path from the stadium. Also, to make sure we had something we could eat while tailgating (keeping true to the meat-free Lent kick we've been on), we brought some veggie burgers along to grill up. When we got there, I immediately and self-consciously came to the realization that we were making an interesting first impression to Ryan's coworkers, who are mostly relatively straight-laced accountant-types. First, the bikes. Then, the vegetarian fare (aside from the burgers, I continually quality-checked the hummus). Add in my fairly bushy beard, and that's three major hippie/hipster* stereotypes we fit. If we only wore skinny jeans, had some Pabst in my pack and started gushing about the Avett Brothers the same way that a fifth grade girl would openly worship Justin Bieber ... anyways, I made the joke that we're not hipsters or hippies, I showered that morning, so on and so forth. It ended up being a pretty great time, though the Pirates' highlight was when the drunk college kid ran on the field in the ninth inning. Typical Pirates.

Anyways, to keep the notion of our non-hipster/hippie ways in play, it was probably best I didn't mention that earlier in the week I fell back in love with granola.

Seriously, Trader Joe's Mango Passion granola is really stupendously good, with the caveat that to enjoy it, you really have to like mangoes. I wouldn't say a fullout passion for them would be a prerequisite like the name suggests, but it definitely helps to have a good, healthy respect and affinity for mango goodness. I personally love mangoes and pretty much anything mango-flavored. This is one power-packed bowl of goodness. The granola itself is my picture of perfection - not too dry or hard, and the rolled oats are perfect in taste and texture. They're nutty, oatty, kinda earthy, wholesome-tasting, a little chewy like granola should be, with some bite to it. They're neither too sweet nor too plain - just the right balance. In the past I've bought granola from the bulk foods section at Whole Foods, and while some were pretty good, others were just too wrong. Not this stuff. The freeze-dried mango bits are pretty tasty too. I kinda wish there were more of them, but if you enjoy them in the fashion I prefer and pour some milk over it, I guess some of the sugars dissolve into the cow juice and spread out the sweetness so it permeates every crunch, while not overbearing the granola bits at all. I haven't read the ingredients list, so not sure what kind of extra stuff may have been put in, but the natural mango taste really seems to come through. The taste in each bite is just so consistently good. If you're a yogurt and granola type person, I'd imagine it'd be just as good, though not sure how the mango taste would spread out if at all. A dry handful was pretty satisfactory as well.

This stuff is filling as all heck too. You know that 10 a.m. test I described a few posts back? This granola completely wrecked the curve for that. Both days I had it last week, I felt a slight grumble in my gut maybe around 11 a.m. but even by my lunch break around noon or 12:30, I wasn't as hungry as all get out. Sure, I was glad when it was lunch (even gladder on the day I enjoyed one of my new lunchtime favorites) but I could've waited longer and been okay. That's a rare event for me, and for the granola to ace it two days in a row ... amazing.

Sandy loves it too. She packed some up for a morning snack. That night, we began talking about it. "It just tasted so ... so ... I don't know," she said, her face scrunching up in thought.

"Happy," I chimed in. "It tastes happy."

A light turned on. "Yes! Happy! That's it! I love it!"

This notion was reinforced tonight when I asked her to take the artful pic you see above. She was legitimately happy to snap the photo of "the box of sunshine and rainbows." I asked her if puppies belonged in there too. "Ooooh, yes, puppies too! And unicorns." So yes, if I had to choose one adjective to describe this product, I'd go with happy, and apparently Sandy agrees. This stuff is like the Michael Franti** of cereal ... Satisfyingly good, good for you, and keeps you full and energized, and definitely positive and happy. Sandy gives it a perfect five, and was pretty shocked when I mentioned I was considering scoring it just a slight notch below that. My only complaint is, as is about anything good, was that there wasn't more of it. The two of us got two breakfasts each out of the box, so four total ... then again, you shouldn't have to eat as much granola as you do regular cereal because it's that much more filling, and I got myself two large bowls of it, so that's more on me than the granola. I find myself agreeing with the wifey. Perfect five from me. In retrospect ... why the heck didn't we get this last night on our shopping trip? Hmmm ....

Bottom line: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Though I'm sure they're technically different, I use the terms hipster and hippie interchangeably. I just call it as I see it.
** Sandy and I saw him in concert a few months back ... amazing show. One of the best concerts I've ever been to ... the only one that tops it in my mind was when I saw George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic back in college. Dang ... maybe I really am a hippie/hipster at heart.

Trader Giotto's 100% Whole Wheat Pizza Dough

I don't think I've ever had pizza on a whole wheat crust before. I've had veggie pizza, meat-lovers pizza, pizza with cheese inside the crust, New York-style, Chicago-style, margherita pizza (white pizza), pizza from the oldest brick oven in the U.S. (Lombardi's), pizza-flavored chips, pizza-flavored pretzel sticks, microwave pizza, Lunchables pizza, pizza bites, pizza poppers, and pizza burgers. I love pizza, and I've had just about every kind of pizza there is...in the U.S. at least.

But this Trader Giotto's Pizza Dough was unlike any pizza product I've ever had.

Sonia and I wrangled up a bunch of different pizza ingredients from the local TJ's, and decided to bake a 100% Trader Joe's pizza, with this dough as the base. Even before putting it in the oven, we could tell it was...well, different. First of all, it's darker than most pizza dough. It was a bit grainy -- and stiffer than ordinary white dough.

After baking, we immediately noticed that the pizza crust was unlike the norm. It was leathery. The bottom of the pizza felt a bit like smooth human skin. Not particularly appetizing, but our hunger compelled us to try some. It was definitely chewier than regular pizza dough, but not to the point that it was difficult or awkward to eat. The flavor was more earthy...and richer than a normal pizza crust. That was to be expected, as whole grains tend to produce more bold, raw flavors than processed, bleached flours. The inner parts of the crust were lighter than the outside. They looked raw-ish. The dough sat heavy in our stomachs. It filled us up fast.

On top of the pizza, we put Trader Giotto's Tomato Basil Marinara sauce. It was good. Sonia pointed out that it's a tad on the thin side. If you're looking for pizza sauce with a whole lot of body, you might want to try something else, although I was quite pleased with this sauce's flavor. I'm sure it would be excellent on pasta or mozzarella sticks or what have you.

Speaking of mozzarella, we also threw on some Trader Joe's Shredded Mozarella Cheese. I thought mozarella was Italian. Why didn't they call it Trader Giotto's Mozarella Cheese? We could have made an entirely Trader Giotto's pizza...

Oh well. We have used this shredded mozarella on tacos, salads, and nachos, too. It's always good -- and not too expensive.


All in all, the ingredients blended well. We've actually made this pizza twice now. The second time, I think we put a little more marinara sauce on it. I prefer it with lots of sauce. I really don't like tomatoes, but strangely enough, I love almost anything derived from tomatoes. The bold taste of the pizza sauce just barely manages to balance out the strong presence of the whole-grain dough. The cheese tends to melt in your mouth long before you're done chewing the dough. It's a unique pizza experience.

One other thing I might mention is that the dough...well, er, um...how do I say this tactfully without grossing anyone out? It had a slight laxative effect on both of us. I mean, all whole grains are supposed to do that, but this stuff...well, let's just say it was a tad more potent than most whole-grain products. Ahem, moving along...

In summary, Trader Giotto's 100% Whole Wheat Pizza Dough is good, but different. Don't try this if you want a safe, normal pizza. Try it if you're feeling adventurous. It's hard to describe completely.

Both Trader Giotto's Tomato Basil Marinara sauce and Trader Joe's Shredded Mozarella Cheese are quality ingredients that can be used not only to make Trader Joe's pizzas, but they come in handy for a plethora of culinary occasions.

As for the Trader Giotto's Whole Wheat Pizza Dough, Sonia gives it a 3.5. Me too. Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Tomato Basil Marinara. Sonia gives it a 4. As do I. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Shredded Mozarella Cheese. Sonia gives it a 4. I give it a 4.5. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seedless Blackberry Preserves

I'm not sure what I was expecting from this product. I think of the blackberry as a sort of raspberry-esque fruit, but perhaps a bit bolder or more robust - and I'm usually a fan of raspberry products. I've always liked preserves because they taste like actual fruit. They usually don't need to be dressed up too much to sweeten a biscuit or piece of bread.

So it stands to reason that I would enjoy these Trader Joe's Blackberry Preserves...and I did, but not as much as I had hoped.

First of all, there are no chunks of fruit in the spread. It's all a very even, gelatinous consistency. It feels fake. It feels too smooth almost. Secondly, I noted in the ingredients that Trader Joe's not only resorted to adding sugar, but they added corn syrup as well. So it seems as if the blackberry's natural flavor isn't quite sweet enough to make good preserves on its own. TJ's decided it needed some dressing up...and it was still a hair on the bland side in my opinion. Perhaps I overestimated the blackberry.

Please note that plain corn syrup is still better for the body than high-fructose corn syrup, as high-fructose corn syrup is actually a preservative that's created by adding artificial compounds to regular corn syrup that make it even sweeter and give it those preservative properties. (I still have 2 and a half glasses of Pepsi, which is chock full of high-fructose corn syrup like all regular sodas, when I go out to eat. I'm not so big a health nut that I've cut it out completely, I'm just saying it's pretty nasty when you think about it.)

Back to the point: I guess if you want a really natural jam or jelly, you need to buy something that says "100% all-fruit spread." Preserves are not necessarily that.

We ate the preserves with a little butter on Food for Life's brown rice bread, available at TJ's, but unfortunately not a TJ's brand product. Food for Life also makes a great millet bread, for the gluten-intolerant, and they're also the makers of Ezekiel 4:9 bread, inspired by a recipe in the Bible. We're fans.

Overall, the preserves were an adequate jam-like substance for our toast, but I felt that it failed to go way above and beyond like many TJ's products do. I give it 3 out of 5 stars. Sonia liked that it wasn't too sweet. She was a bigger fan than I. She was going to give it a 4, but when she found out about the addition of both sugar and corn syrup, she lowered her score to 3.5. Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Veggie Sausage Patties

So a few posts ago I shared a little about giving up meat for Lent, and Trader Joe's has already really pleasantly surprised me with their soy meat products, so when they had their Veggie Sausage Patties at the sample station a week or so ago, it made for a natural pick up. It also led Sandy to think a little, like "Okay, we like Trader Joe's goods overall, but how do they compare against rival brands?" So this post, I'm going to do something a little different than the usual.

< insert Michael Buffer >

Ladies and gentlemen, today you are about to witness history, the first head-to-head heavyweight championship of frozen vegetable sausage patties. The Soysage Showdown. One brand, known throughout the land, the undisputed champion. The challenger, an underdog, with a devoted following, its quality known to its devotees. Only one can prevail. Are ... you ... ready?

I said .... are .... you .... ready ....

LLLLLLLLLLLLet's get ready to crrrrrrrrrrrrrrumble!!

< /end Michael Buffer >

Ringside Introductions: In the left corner, the defending world champion, in the green box, from Battle Creek, Michigan, weighing in at 228 grams, costing $3.39, it's MorningStar Farms' Original Sausage Patties! (applause)

On the right, the plucky underdog challenger, in the white and light blue box, from Monrovia, California, weighing in at 227 grams, costing $3.29, it's Trader Joe's Veggie Sausage Patties! (mild smattering of hand claps)

Round One: First Impressions: The picture on the Morningstar box shows a serving suggestion of just tossing them on a plate. Also, one singular serving is clearly and consistently referred to as a "pattie." Hrmm. Trader Joe's shows them on top of some awesome looking openfaced sandwich with tomatoes and spinach and some sort of cheese/dressing. I get hungry just looking at it. And they call it a patty. I like the fonts they use better, too. Judges' decision: Trader Joe's

Round Two: Nutrition: M'star has less fat and more protein. That's good. TJ's has less calories and sodium. Also good. But in wondering what all has to be done to a scoopful of beans to make them meat-like, I began to look at the ingredients. TJ's has something called carboxymethycellulose in it, and carrageenan in it. Don't know what those do, and don't want to. I can pronounce everything else in it though. M'star though has tasty stuff like tripolyphosphate, hexametaphosphate, disodium inosinate, and loads of other stuff the spell check underlines in a red squiggly. So, this could be wrong but, my thoughts ... Judges' decision: Trader Joe's

Round Three: Appearance and Preparation: The patties of both brands are roughly the same size (M'star maybe a little thicker, TJ's maybe a little larger circumference). Both are strangely fairly not-that-cold when taken out of the freezer. The M'star patties look browned and ready to eat, except frozen, whereas TJ's has more of an icy sheen that quickly cooks off. M'star looks a little "meatier" where as TJ's looks a little ... I don't know ... indistinct? I'll go with that. Preparation of both is pretty identical, and sizzle up within a couple minutes, smelling sausage-y enough in the process. Judges' decision: MorningStar Farms

Round Four: Texture: Okay, for both, not bad, but not nearly as good as the real thing. I think I may have slightly overcooked them (not necessarily a bad thing) so the outsides of both got a little browned and crisped up. The insides ... eh. M'star is definitely meatier in texture, but it strikes me as akin to a well-done burger made of slighty chunky firm mush. Which is more or less what it was. TJ's didn't have as much of a meaty bite (definitely more towards the mush end of the spectrum, this makes it sound worse than it was, but don't know how else to describe it) and was more greasy, though not over-abundantly so. Both were decent enough in their own way. Judges' decision: MorningStar Farms

Final Round: Taste: This is always what it comes down to, isn't it? For me, at least, it is. M'star definitely decided to go the well-done burger route and make a meaty, kinda smokey, solid, but kinda plain tasting patty, er, "pattie." TJ's starts off tasting roughly the same, but mid-bite there's like this savory inflection that introduces itself to the flavor that makes it taste more authentically sausage-like. Mind you, it doesn't taste just like it, but a reasonable facsimile for a bunch of beans. I think it's the extra 1.5 gram of fat that the TJ's has to give it just a little more greasy breakfast meat essence. First time we chomped down, Sandy and I made "Soysage Egg McMuffins" and thought the TJ's was the winner, hands-down. I resampled both tonight with my dinner, and realized the taste was closer than originally thought. They're both good, but in their own distinct way. Depends what you like more. For Sandy and I, the choice was still simple. Judges' decision: Trader Joe's

Winner, and new world champion, by judges' decision .... Trader Joe's!!!

Post-Fight Wrap Up: Again, I was pretty surprised with the quality of a soy-meat Trader Joe product. Maybe it was the lack of real meat playing with my mind, but while enjoying the sausage patties, it wasn't as easy to recall I wasn't chomping my way through the real deal. MorningStar, while decent, was too unsausage-like despite its meatier appearance and texture to have the same effect. I think even if I sampled both in a blindfolded taste test, I'd choose the Trader Joe's. Sandy usually isn't too big of a sausage fan, but she legitimately liked the TJ's more than the MorningStar as well. "It just tastes better," she said. "If you told me we'd make some muffin sandwiches with the MorningStar patties, I wouldn't be like 'Bllllllllaaaaaahhhhhherrrrrrggggggahhhhhhhhhh' but I'd be happier with the TJ's." I wish I took a picture of the face she made while making that noise I cannot hope to ever replicate. She said if she were grading both brands, she'd give MorningStar a three ("solid, okay, but not great") but give the Trader Joe's a whopping five out of five. "Savory. Mmmm." Well, I wouldn't quite give it a five, but I recognize its goodness and understand it cannot ever be as good as the real thing. I can appreciate it for it is, though. It's the closest I've tasted, and definitely closer than MorningStar. I'm only grading the TJ's ...

Bottom line: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's 100% Kauai Coffee Beans

If it's alright with you folks, I'll review the coffee that is produced by percolating hot water through these coffee beans, rather than the coffee beans themselves, as I have never eaten the beans au naturale, and I imagine you don't intend to either.

Well, at first glance, you can be pretty certain this stuff's from Hawaii. I'm sure they wanted to dress each can in its own button-down Hawaiian luau style shirt, but decided that would unnecessarily raise the cost of the product. So instead, they just covered the label with stereotypical Hawaiian flowers, palm trees in the background against a lovely orange Hawaiian sunset. Legend has it this beautiful cove is where some of the writers of "Lost" hid after the final episode aired to avoid the wrath of disgruntled fans, furious about that cop-out ending to the series.

Kauai is indeed the northernmost of the Hawaiian Islands, and they apparently grow the best coffee beans there...on the "leeward" side of the island. To save you from Googling "leeward definition," like I had to, I'll go ahead and let you know that "leeward" is a nautical term meaning "the direction in which the wind is blowing."

The can boasts that these medium-roasted beans are "aromatic, earthy, and sweet," and that's exactly what they are - or rather, what the coffee derived from these beans is. I'm not used to coffee being so bold, and yet so sweet. There's usually an unpleasant bitterness that I need to cover up with cream and sugar in any "bold" coffee. Not so with this magical island blend. I imagine the beans were grown and harvested by the Menehune's themselves - that's part of what gives the coffee such unusual properties...oh, no wait...it's the volcanic soil, according to the can. But of course, Trader Joe's can't claim publicly that they're exploiting the Menehune's. So it's probably both. Both volcanic soil and magic from the Menehune's. The Menehune's were on that episode of "Full House" where Danny Tanner took the whole fam to Hawaii; that's how I know about them. Man, that show ended way better than "Lost" did. I'm really bitter about "Lost." That whole debacle really tainted my feelings about Hawaii.

But, thankfully, this coffee is among the things that are restoring my opinion of our great 50th state. Remembering that episode of "Full House" didn't hurt either.

Anyway, the coffee is good. 4 from me. 4 from Sonia. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt Wildberry Probiotic Smoothie

If you're a fan of Dannon's "Frusion," you'll probably like Trader Joe's Yogurt Smoothies. They taste great, they're very smooth, made with real fruit and yogurt. Unlike Dannon's, these are organic and contain probiotics.

All yogurt has "yogurt cultures," which, I understand, help your digestive system. Their little yogurt civilization travels from its container into your gastrointestinal areas, where they set up shop helping you digest other foods and regulating the flow of foods into the intestines...or something like that.

Probiotics go one step further. They are helpful, microscopic little dudes that usually get added to the already helpful yogurt cultures, and they all work together to achieve gastrointestinal regularity. If the normal yogurt cultures are the army and navy, these little probiotic fellows are the marines. I don't think any microorganisms are sophisticated enough to have an air force yet.

Anyway, I'm not a biologist or a doctor, so please disregard the two previous paragraphs completely. Unless you're a doctor and you would like to correct my silly probiotic analogy, in which case, you may do so in the form of a comment below. I never took many biology or medical classes in school because I was far too squeamish. I would have fainted at the first discussion of blood-borne pathogens or communicable diseases. The hypochondriac in me would have immediately began drawing similarities between said diseases and the symptoms of my last cold, and it would have made me quite miserable and paranoid.

On the downside, Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt Wildberry Probiotic Smoothies are not ultra-filling like the cream yogurts and the bottles are incredibly small. I could easily polish off all four drinks in one sitting. They are one or two gulps-worth a piece. Somehow my wife can draw out the consumption of these things for 20 minutes or so, but that's really not saying much. I once saw her - and I am not exaggerating at all - take two entire days to drink a single can of diet soda. She carried it with her sometimes, she'd put it in the fridge, then take it back out...then she'd have it on her desk. I must've asked her if she was done with the can like half a dozen times, and she would say "no." Apparently, she enjoys flat soda as much or more than fresh soda. But anyway, my point is that if you're a really, really slow drinker, you can nurse these probiotic smoothies for a few minutes max. They're very small and not very filling, and they're not dirt-cheap, either. We payed something like $3.79 for the 4-pack.

We also tried the strawberry version. It's good, too, but Sonia and I agree that Wildberry is ever so slightly better, though.

In review, TJ's yogurt smoothies are delicious and good-for-you, but there's not enough in the bottle. Sonia gives them a 4.5. I would have been tempted to give them a 5 if the serving size were bigger. 4 from me. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Frosted Maple & Brown Sugar Shredded Bite Size Wheats

There's certain things parents always say to kids when growing up. Eat your vegetables. Do your homework. Stop hitting your sister. My parents weren't an exception. There was a common mantra growing up that either my mom or dad said every morning and every night right before bed; "Brush your teeth, wash your face, comb your hair." Good advice for the morning, for sure. But at night? I'm definitely an advocate of brushing twice a day and I'd tack on the addendum to see the dentist twice a year ... in not following the second part of the rule for, oh, seven years or so I currently have three root canals going on. Blah. And washing your face twice a day, well, I guess look good all day and don't dirty your pillow at night, so that's sound enough advice. But combing your hair ... right before bed? Isn't that pointless? I mean, your hair gets messed up all night usually, and even if it somehow remains perfunctory til the rooster crows, you'd have it comb it all over again in the morning before going off to school or wherever. I can only guess that my folks' rationale was if the Bogeyman was going to get you, you might as well look good.

One sensible thing my parental units succeeded in instilling in me was the importance of a good breakfast, y'know, the "most important meal of the day." In an ideal world, I'd have eggs and bacon and pancakes and hashbrowns and coffee and orange juice every morning. As amazing that'd be, Sandy's not waking up at 6 a.m. every day to make that for me, and I'm not either. During the week, that's leaves me vacuuming down a bowl of cereal as quickly as possible before luring the dog into a crate with a cookie, grabbing lunch, manbag, and keys and speeding off to my cubicle.

That leaves me with the idea that whatever cereal I'm going to shove down my throat, I need to like it and it's got to keep me going until lunch. If it's healthy, well, all the better.

Enter Trader Joe's Frosted Maple & Brown Sugar Shredded Bite Size Wheats. Dang, that is one long name. But as a counter-acting dang, this stuff is pretty dang decent. The name pretty well sums them up. The biscuits themselves are good, bite-sized chunks of shredded wheat that are crispy from first bite to last. I especially like the last few in the milk puddle - soggy on the outside, crunchy in the middle. And they're definitely wholesome in the wheatiest of ways. And the frosting is pretty jim-dandy too. Taking a glimpse at it, it's definitely light brown with a couple different shades for the maple and brown sugar, like a mini work of art. The maple is the prevailing taste, but the brown sugar makes a great undertone taste, which is how come it tastes so good. I personally love the taste of this stuff as it indulges my kidlike sugar jonesing and my adult sensibilities.

But how full does it keep me? I'm going to employ what I call the "10 a.m. test" in gauging this; namely, how hungry am I at 10 a.m. after chowing down a bowlful at landspeed record time at 7 a.m.? Most cereals fail this test miserably, and in fact seem to make me hungrier than I would be skipping breakfast altogether. As for this, well ... it does better than most. I was able to fend off a coworker's very aggressive offering of a doughnut this morning because I wasn't hungry enough for it. Other days (I'd say about half the time), I get some moderate pangs, but haven't felt an out-and-out rumbly in the tumbly, which is commonplace with other bowled breakfast bounty. I'd say it passes well because I'm deciding to grade on a curve.

According to Sandy, I like this too much. Out of the latest box, she's gotten only a handful or two, mostly because she prefers other breakfast cereal to pack along (that and she's lucky enough to have a breakfast option provided for her at work ... ah, the perks of being a topnotch early childhood educator. Don't you dare call it daycare). Sandy's had some opportunity to fully enjoy the mini-wheats, and she has here and there, but said she didn't feel like she could give it an informed grade other than to say "it's maple-y." Something about me hogging it too much or something. Probably at least partially true. Anyways, I'll pull out the old trick of doubling my grade sans the wifey score ... I feel a little extra insecure when doing this, the weight of responsibility and all .... eh, screw it, eight and a half, which I think is about as high I can rank any cereal. This has been and will be a regular in the pantry rotation.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Soy & Flaxseed Tortilla Chips

Yellow corn, soy, and flaxseeds make up these chips. They're a structurally-sound, crunchy breed of chip. They taste a little different than regular yellow corn chips, but the taste is not so foreign that you won't be able to appreciate them on your first try. They're a little bit more massive than regular chips, which makes them highly dippable. And I do tend to either choose flavored chips, or chips that work particularly well with salsa or queso of some kind. These chips fall into the latter category, although if you're one who appreciates tortilla chips by themselves with no fixins or sauces, I'm sure these would be a fine choice for you, as they possess a nice salty, nutty quality you might expect from the 3 aforementioned main ingredients.

The bag boasts that the chips are a good source of protein, omega 3 fatty acids, and fiber. All in all, they're a nice balance of wholesome grains, crunchy snackability, and good-for-you bonuses. Our dip of choice for these chips was Trader Joe's Taco Seasoned Beef, Bean, & Cheese Dip with salsa and sour cream.

The beef wasn't as prominent as I was hoping. While eating the dip, I was really only aware of beans, cheese, and some sour cream. The salsa and beef kind of failed to push through the mishmash of other ingredients. The flavor could have been bolder, especially for a product with "taco seasoned" in its title. It was slightly bland in a way, but certainly not terrible.

This particular chip & dip combo worked pretty well, since lesser chips may well have buckled under the weight of the multi-layer dip. Any flavored chips might have clashed with the taste of the dip...and since the dip was slightly wanting in the flavor department, it's conceivable that a flavored chip would have completely overshadowed the taste of the dip...which in my opinion, completely defeats the purpose of using a dip or salsa in the first place.

In conclusion, Trader Joe's Soy & Flaxseed Tortilla Chips are a lovely, crunchable, multi-grain experience. Sonia gives them a 4. I concur. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Taco Seasoned Beef, Bean, & Cheese Dip is not the flavor-extravaganza I had hoped for, but its subtle taste and textures are enough to garner modest 3.5's from both Sonia and I. Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cherry Cider

There's nothing like a sticky sweet, nectar-like beverage on a warm spring day after a nice round of tennis. Green Plant Beverage? Please. You can keep your algae-juice or whatever it is. The 13-year-old trapped inside this 31-year-old's body wants a sugar-shockin' rush of yummy red liquid confection.

And that's exactly what this is, unfortunately for those of you who thought this was actually cherry cider. As we discussed in an earlier post about a different cider, this kind of drink should be "tangy and brown." Now, I'm not sure how the color is on your computer monitor, nor am I certain that my camera was properly color-balanced, but the liquid in the glass is definitely red. It's a deep red, approaching brown, but it is not brown. The packaging, too, hints that the drink within is bold red. And the beverage's subtle tartness is overshadowed by its Juicy Juice-like sweetness.

I think the color red has come to be a symbol of classic sweet drinks. Coke cans are red. Everybody knows red Kool-Aid is the best Kool-Aid. When the makers of Mountain Dew decided their green beverage too greatly resembled a health drink, they introduced Code Red to make sure everybody knew they stood for rapid tooth decay and higher rates of diabetes death.

This cherry-flavored beverage is, thankfully, very natural. They didn't dump cups of high-fructose corn syrup into it. It's actually just apple, cherry, plum, and pineapple juices from concentrate.

My only complaint about this product is its incredibly misleading name. It is not cider. This is Trader Joe's version of Code Red, sans the carbonation and artificial nonsense. It's totally for kids...and for old dudes like me that like to drink kids' beverages. After drinking a glass, there's a syrupy reside on the tongue that lingers for a while. Not sure how I feel about that...

Sonia shocked me almost as much as the candied-kick of the drink when she gave it a 4. I expected her to say it was too sweet. I give it a 4 as well, docking a point because it's not really what it says it is. But overall, it's a highly-chuggable, refreshing treat. If you like Juicy Juice, you'll want to check this stuff out.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Lentil Soup with Ancient Grains

So, if you've paying close attention to my (Russ) posts over the past two weeks or so, you may have noticed that I've been featuring a lot of vegetarian/meat-free meals and options. This is because, in homage to Sandy's Catholic upbringing (and as a sort of experiment), the two of us decided to give up meat for Lent this year. Not just on Fridays, but for the entirety of the season (except for me, on Sundays, as taking a break from a Lenten fast is allowed then - hey, the Pope and Wikipedia are cool with it, so am I). It's been kinda tough - it's not like I've been getting the meat DTs - but as being accustomed to a certain level of carnivoredom worthy of my high position in the food chain, there's been times I've noticed a little meat could help make a decent meal even better.

Fortunately, Trader Joe's seems to have a fair amount of decent vegetarian lunch options, so I've been taking it as an opportunity to explore some mealtime choices I wouldn't otherwise. There's been some really pleasant surprises so far, and each new found good treat makes it a little easier.

Take this lentil soup for an example. I don't think I've ever had lentil soup before and the whole "ancient grains" part makes it sound like some sort of primordial stew that only hippies in Volkswagen toaster vans would enjoy. If not in search of cuddly animal-less lunches, I probably would never have found this, or may have even roundly rejected the notion when Sandy spotted it and put it in the cart. "We should try it," she said, and since she's always right, we did.

Fantastic. This is some heavy, serious stuff. Sandy siphoned some off one morning into some Tupperware for her lunch, and gave me the rest for mine. I am continually of a large appetite, and the roughly half a container I had more than filled me up with the assistance of an apple and handful of pretzels. It was kind of tough for me to discern what all was in there, it was so loaded. Definitely a lot of lentils, but texturally nothing stood out - not even all the veggies like carrots, onions and celery. I presume the "ancient grains" refer mostly to the quinoa (of which I'm slowly building an appreciation for) and millet, and maybe the flax seeds. The broth (if you can call it that, it's so thick) tastes mostly like cumin to me, though it's got some garlic here, some pepper and paprika there. It's spicy, but not in a spicy hot way ... it's more like a spicy full-flavored tastiness. And thick is the operative word - this stuff is dense and heavy, not all watered down like other soup options. I really, truly enjoyed this, and while spooning my way through this, I could actually ignore/not be envious of the guys sitting a few tables over plowing through their daily ration of buffalo wings. If you know me, that says a lot. This definitely the kind of stuff that'd be great on a colder day to stick inside you to warm and fill you up, but I think it'd pass muster even as the temps finally get a little warmer out here. And as a bonus, unlike some otherwise pretty decent TJ lunch options, it gives me a container (with a lid!) to keep and reuse and not draw too much spousal ire, though at this writing, I don't know if Sandy knows I still have it or not. Sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission.

I'm huge enough of a fan of it to go ahead and give it a perfect five. It's just that ridiculously good. Sandy surprised me when she said she'd offer it only a three, as she looked genuinely disappointed on Monday when we shopped and they were out of it. "It's good, but I just like my soup to be more soup-like, not all thick like it was," she said. Eh, to each their own, I guess. Even after Lent's up, I'll be checking the shelf still for it.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Old-Fashioned Sourdough Hard Pretzels

So, in other posts I've gone on about how much I love pretzels. It's just part of growing up in southeast Pennsylvania, which I think is to pretzels as Alaska is to salmon or the Dominican Republic is to cigars. Sure, other areas produce these goods, and can do so quite admirably, but if you had to pinpoint one area that's known for having the best, you'd know where to say. That's southeast PA. In the area we have Utz, Snyders of Hanover, Snyder's of Berlin, Unique, Martin's ... all of them pretty darn good. Growing up, there used to be the "Charlie Chip" man that would come by and deliver loads of pretzels and chips to my grandmother who lived with my family. I was kinda saddened today when I tried to look them up and found out that they went out of business some years ago.

Anyways, out of all pretzel types, my overall favorite probably has to be sourdough hard pretzels. They're just big, hard, super crunchy, encrusted with mini-rock salt crystals, and make you endlessly thirsty for a tall glass of lemonade or beer of your choice. I was pretty excited when on a recent Trader Joe's trip I saw these, and even a little more when I read on the side that they're "made in Pennsylvania, right in the heart of pretzel country." Boo yeah.

First, a note about the box, and namely its decoration. Most of the pretzels made in PA are done by the Mennonite/Pennsylvanian Dutch crowd, or at least their ancestors, and are based on a tradition of simplicity and humility. You just get a sense of it from their products and packaging. But not these guys. First there's a pair of cherubim doublefisting straight trumpets, and then a couple lions seeming to mount a mega pretzel in the middle coat of arms style. It just seems kinda odd and boastful-esque, I don't know. For whatever reason, the analogy that came to mind was rolling through Amish country windows down, woofers up blaring Ludacris or some Biggie. Just because there isn't a law against it doesn't make it right. I'm probably making more of a deal of this than necessary.

Anyways, the pretzels themselves are pretty decent. They definitely get a lot more right than they don't. They're the right size, with the right knots and exterior cracks and gashes in the dough. At first, to me at least, the crunch wasn't exactly right ... kind of almost like they were "too fresh", because they seemed to pack some level of relatively light crispiness. After a few days, though, they were right on the target. It's not a matter of getting them stale ... I don't know how to explain it right, but after being opened for a couple days that crispiness gave way to a whole 'nother level of crunch right on the money with the best. And make no mistake, these guys are super crunchy. It got to the point where Sandy and I had to eat them at the same time if we were in the same room so our own crunching muffled out each others. I think Sandy yelled at me once or twice to "stop crunching so loud on purpose, you crunchy pretzel mouth man" (or something to that effect) when she was giving her jaw a break from them, not realizing her own munching noises reminded me of a woodchipper (love you, darlin'). That's the beauty of the hearth baking process to just make the biggest, hardest, crunchiest pretzel you'll ever have.

After weighing their taste against other sourdough pretzels I've had, I found these TJ delights a little bit wanting. Sandy thought they could use a little more salt. I disagree - they have about the right amount, and it's the good, big, grainy stuff. The dough with which these were made is just a little plain for my taste. It's all just basically wheat flour, salt and yeast. I'm not aware of any pretzel purity laws, and the recipe for these may well be the "old-fashioned" way of making them. I compared the ingredients to one of my favorites, Utz (whose logo is a very simple cartoon lass, thank you very much) and saw that Utz put in a lot more stuff, like buttermilk solids and butter flavor (and of course, this being America, corn syrup). Hmm. Maybe it's the Utz-style taste to which I've grown too accustomed to enjoy this Trader Joe offering as much as I otherwise should, but I just wish they offered a little more flavor, especially for something purporting to be sourdough. Amanda, one of our Facebook fans, noted that these are pretty great when dipped in some hot and spicy mustard, and I can definitely see some dip helping their cause, though generally I prefer pretzels straight from the source with no pitstops in the middle.

The pretzels are definitely more right than wrong, so I'll give Trader Joe's some credit. Sandy gives them a 3 ("more salt!!!!" is basically what she said), and I'll see that and raise another spoon. At least at our local shop, the sourdough pretzels are in only sporadically, and it'd be nice to have them as a consistent offering, because then I'd be consistently crunching on them.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Double Roasted Salsa

The beautiful adobe hacienda on the bottle of this salsa is apparently located in Monrovia, CA, and is home to a Mexican-American family that toils day and night, roasting fresh green peppers over an open fire, then peeling them, and then roasting them again for this fine semi-spicy salsa. It's a shame we never went to visit it while we still lived in Cali.

I really like the packaging for some Trader Joe's products. This is definitely one of them. The picture on the label makes me want to fly down and visit my wife's family in Oaxaca, Mexico immediately. I don't know if it looks anything like the picture on the bottle, but I imagine that it does. I have been brushing up on my español lately. I even know how to type "ñ" now on a US keyboard. That little thingy on top isn't a "squiggle," I've learned, but rather it is a "tilde," as in Tilda Swinton. And I'm hoping, since this blog shows up fairly well on Google searches, that certain unsuspecting individuals who are searching for info on how to type that "ñ" will wind up stumbling upon our page, falling in love with our unique style of epic first-person narrative food reviews, and becoming big fans of our blog. So for those good people, I throw the following bone: simply hold down "alt" and then type "164" on your number pad. Voila: ñ.

Another aspect of TJ's packaging that I'm a fan of is their special spice-o-meter in the shape of a little chili pepper that appears on most of thier salsas and hot sauces, despite it's occasional inaccuracy. This will be the third product we've reviewed that has such a spice-o-meter, following in the footsteps of the jalapeño hot sauce and the chunky salsa. This one falls in between the first two, and appears to be approximately 2/3 red. Sonia and I think that's an overestimation of this salsa's spiciness. I'd put it somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2.

There is significant cider vinegar taste in the sauce. I thought I detected a pickle type flavor, but there are no pickles or cucumbers in the ingredients. It does also taste like roasted peppers, however, my taste buds are not sophisticated enough to distinguish between single roasted peppers and double roasted ones. There's a bit of a limey tang as well.

The ingredients are all remarkably simple and natural, without any bizarre-o chemicals or preservatives. There are vegetable bits present, but not chunks. It's good for chip-dipping, and it would probably be good for topping off enchiladas or tacos, too.

All in all, a decent salsa. I could stand it with less pickliness, and I prefer big chunks of tomato and pepper. Sonia's assessment was basically the same as mine. We both give it 3.5's, placing it solidly within the "not bad" category.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Thai Vegetable Pad Thai

So sue us, we didn't review any beer for St. Patrick's Day. How terribly un-festive of us. The title of the previous post did contain the word "green" twice. And anyway, we'd have to travel into another state for a Trader Joe's that sells beer. Just go back and read this post. It's Mexican beer, so what? They're a Catholic country that has green on their flag, too.

Anyway, let's get down to business shall we? Today we'll be talking about fine vegetarian Thai cuisine...oh, and this Trader Joe's Vegetable Pad Thai, too.

In L.A., there's an amazing restaurant at Orlando and Beverly called Vegan Glory. Everything they serve is, as the name would indicate, free of animal products of any kind. They serve mostly Thai-themed food...and honestly, this is not only the BEST vegan or vegetarian food I've ever had anywhere, but it's one of my favorite restaurants period. I'm certainly not a vegan, but anyone I've ever known that's open-minded enough to try it instantly becomes a fan, regardless of how much meat-lust lingers in their stomach. If you ever decide to stop in, I recommend the pineapple fried rice with soy chicken nuggets. Put a little hot sauce on it, and WOW...meatless Thai food that'll blow your mind for a totally reasonable price--not to mention good, friendly service from people whom I think are actually from Thailand. (Most of them speak good English, though.)

Now, if Trader Joe's can make a killer meatless corn dog, you would expect them to make a killer meatless pad thai. I mean, that is, given TJ's generally good track record with Asian style food products, as well as their wide array of tasty vegetarian and vegan foods, one would think that a Thai entree as basic as Pad Thai would be an easy one to knock out of the ballpark. Lots of Thai foods are vegetarian or vegan anyway. Meat seems more intrinsically necessary for the success of a corn dog than that of Pad Thai.

However, I've gotta say - and maybe it's just because I was spoiled by Vegan Glory - this Pad Thai misses the mark. The noodles are too chewy - almost rubbery. The sprouts are stringy, and the little chunks of tofu, which were actually my favorite part, were too far and few between. Even though their texture was nice and their flavor wasn't awful, I found myself pining for real chicken pieces. I would say I was craving better quality tofu thingies, but there was something about these little guys that made me NOT want anything vegetarian. Because they were so unlike real meat, they reminded me of why I like meat in the first place. A good veggie Thai dish shouldn't leave you wanting real meat. Again, they aren't bad in and of themselves, but they're not nearly as good as real chicken. And I've had plenty of vegetarian dishes that completely quell any meat cravings - including a good many Trader Joe's products.

The sauce on the dish is certainly palatable. No complaints there, except that there could be a little more of it.

Sonia kind of surprised me with a higher-than-expected rating. She gave it a 3.5. I'm going to have to be the bad guy on this one and give it a 2.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's All Natural Pasteurized Green Plant Green Food Beverage

About two months ago or so, Sandy and I started going to a spin class at the gym together. She's using it as crosstraining for a couple half-marathons this year, and I'm crazy enough to think I can do a 150-mile bike ride for the National MS Society this June. Anyways, we've always heard that spinning is a tough, tough class, so we were a little apprehensive about our first class. The instructor, who was this fairly young, scrawny, probably college-aged kid who looked like a hardcore cyclist, came in. Forty-five minutes later, we walked out, thinking, "Well, that wasn't too tough." Sure, we broke a sweat, but it seemed pretty easy and well within our range of capability without too much challenge. We went back the next week, although at a different time for whatever reason, for another one, which had a different instructor. This guy came in, and honestly, I couldn't imagine him being tough. He was easily mid-to-late thirties, balding, and not that I'm one to talk, big ol' hang-low-wobble-to-and-fro gut (I am unsure about any knot or bow-tying capabilities, but I'd assume no). I tell you the truth ... that guy was tough. High intensity climbs and runs, lots of sprinting, lots of quick up/down intervals ... it was ten times harder than the previous week. Easily. We've made it a point to go to his classes and get our butts kicked on Tuesday nights and Saturday mornings.

Why do I tell you this? To make a point: appearances can lie. Don't judge based on them.

It was with this in mind that we decided to pick up and try out this incredibly long-named product this week. For brevity*, I'll just refer to it as the green plant juice. Appearance-wise, it just looks weird and freaky and not so delicious. Green juice doesn't exactly have an illustrious history to my knowledge - the only semi-successful that comes to mind is Ecto-Cooler ... mmm, green orange juice. Combine that color with its murky, slimy, chunky appearance, and the green plant juice is something else. I actually made a list of what it reminds me of:
1. Swamp Thing, melted
2. Something you'd look at under a microscope in seventh grade
3. Pond scum
4. Bathwater for Oscar the Grouch
5. What you'd find in Oscar the Grouch's trashcan
6. Springfield River water, home of Blinky, the three-eyed fish **
And smellwise, to be honest, reminds me of jarred babyfood. So not off to the best of starts. I was definitely a little apprehensive about trying it.

It's actually pretty decent. It's not sugary sweet like some other reviewers in this blog would probably go nuts over, but it's kinda like pear juice, although there's no pears in it. But there's pretty much everything else - apple and pineapple juice, pureed peaches, bananas, and mangoes. Even has barley grass, spinach and and broccoli in it. Seems almost like a gym smoothie, without the smooth part. Texture-wise, it is a little bit of a challenge at first. Think orange juice with lots of pulp but a little softer, and you're on the right path. It also leaves some funky slimy film in your glass that's a little water-resistant. I'd say overall, if I were blindfolded and tasted this, not ever tasting it before, and afterwards I were asked what color I thought it was, I'd definitely go with green. I'd also wonder what the heck I just put in my mouth. Wouldn't be too upset, though.

This oddball beverage also has some green superfood-type stuff like spirulina and chlorella in it. What do those do? Glad you asked, and gladder that Wikipedia knows. They're both algae (so that pond scum thought wasn't too far from the truth) that are supposed to be loaded with protein (yet the nutrition label says the plant juice contains no protein. Hmm). Anyways, besides that, they both are chock full of other nutrients and minerals that made them an attractive food source at one point in time or another. In fact, the Aztecs loved spirulina so much, they called it Tecuitlatl, which apparently (and delicately) means stone excrement. Yum. Chlorella wasn't as lucky to be so beloved. In the World War II era, it was extensively researched as a potential untapped gold mine of nutrition for the exploding European and American population, until it was discovered how much of an expensive pain in the butt it'd be to grow in large enough batches to make it worthwhile. Today, these are still touted as champion green super-healthy food products, though probably only nutrition wackos (and now you) have ever heard of them. I didn't until trying this out.

Sandy said she kinda liked it overall. I knew she had at least a little affinity for it as she tried it the day before I did and said she'd drink a cup with me as I tried it. We might try to mix it up in a smoothie with some other stuff to try and make the texture not stand out as much. It's definitely not anything we can just gulp on down like some other juices and beverages out there. I like it okay too - drank some before spinning tonight, and poured myself another small glass to sip on while writing this. I think, for now at least, we'll both give it a three, and we'll probably pick this crazy green plant juice stuff up here and there at the very least.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Brevity? Me? Yeah right.
**Despite the legend in the Pittsburgh area, there's no truth to the rumor that Blinky was inspired by the polluted waters of the Monongahela. Regardless, I bet he'd fit right in.

Baker Josef's Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake Mix

I am still in awe of the righteous new labeling system that Russ recently implemented on this site. So, to honor that system, I very thoughtfully considered which category(ies) to put this crumbcake in. Please follow my process of logic:

-Coffee helps one wake up and is thus a morning beverage.
-This cake is to be associated with coffee.
-Therefore, this cake can, at least part of the time, be considered a morning food.

Hence, it is filed under breakfast.

But it is also cake, and cake is very often eaten as dessert, ergo it should also be categorized as dessert, under "snacks and desserts."

And we shall spend the remainder of this blog entry discussing the categorization of the item under its third and final heading of "Not Bad."

Indeed, this is a prime example of a "Not Bad" Trader Joe's product. A week or two ago, we examined TJ's Chocolate Cake and Frosting Mixes, which are, in all respects, Pantheon Level foods. Those products surpassed expectations in every way, and in my life, they shall evermore be the standards by which all chocolate cakes and chocolate icings shall be measured.

This cake, however, can not be placed in such high esteem. It tasted pretty good...but it was sort of...uneven. The ribbon of cinnamoniness was the biggest offender. Instead of coming out like the photo on the box, which depicts a thin layer of soft, cinnamonish goodness evenly spread throughout each piece, there were large clumps of a harder, chewier cinnamon-based substance, unevenly and haphazardly dispersed about the cake. The cinnamon parts tasted overly sugary, and they left a slightly unpleasant aftertaste. The texture of the cake was fine, but any bites that contained this cinnamon ribbon were contaminated with a gritty feeling that cheapened the fluffiness of the main cake material.

Despite my complaints, this product was still among the best coffee cakes I've tried. (Although, truth be told, I haven't eaten many different coffee cakes. The nasty, pre-packaged vending machine variety doesn't count). The cake does go well with coffee, and it's certain to satisfy any sweet-tooth cravings you might encounter during your break.

If you're a huge fan of coffee cake, this is surely worth a try, but if you're just looking for a random cake mix to whip up for dessert or a special occasion, we recommend getting the chocolate cake first.

One last thought: who came up with the idea of crumb cake, anyway? Aren't our lives complicated enough without someone deliberately trying to make food that falls apart when we eat it? Not only do we have to spend time baking, preparing, and serving this stuff, but we have to wash dishes, clear the table, and on top of it all, break out the dust buster now, too. No thanks. One more reason to stick with the chocolate cake.

Sonia gives it 3 out of 5 stars. I'm definitely a bigger fan of sugary breakfast foods than she is. I give it a 3.5 out of 5. Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ricotta & Spinach Tortelloni with Red Pesto

Want to know one of my favorite things about Trader Joe's?

The cashiers.

Seriously.

At the local store, at least, they are routinely some of the friendliest, knowledgeable, and conversational retail workers I've ever encountered. Most of them are quick to give a quick, honest opinion whether good or bad (like the clerk giving me a knowing nod and slightly uneasy "yeah" when returning these catastrophes) and just genuinely nice. Compare and contrast to the way I usually feel "tolerated" by the cashiers at the local big chain. On one of my last shopping trips there (because TJ's, unfortunately, doesn't carry everything) the clerk was literally slamming and throwing my groceries through the scanner and down the belt because she was "tired" and "felt like (unprintable)" ... if I hadn't spent half an hour in line and just wanted to go home, I would have reported her to management. I'll do something more effective and choose not to spend my dollars there. It's sad when your most courteous service comes from the self checkout that insists you have to put your item in the bag and have it "settle"in there in five seconds or the alarm goes off.

I mention this because on our last trip, I picked this package of tortelloni, and the clerk happily chirped that this was her favorite of the burgeoning microwavable pasta selection TJ's offers. This started a nice friendly little conversation about this blog, and if you, Mrs Nice TJ's cashier, are reading this, I dedicate it to you.

Okay, the tortelloni ... how's that different than tortellini? And shouldn't this really be Trader Giotto's goods? I'm glad I'm not the only one who forgets about him. Questions aside, this is some decent stuff. I'm not the biggest fan of ricotta and related cheeses. I'm sure it's not exactly Grade A creamy matter they stuff the pasta with, but it's gets my stamp of approval, with a caveat. Not sure if it was the work microwave's fault, but some of the stuff seemed to get a little overzapped and grainy in small pockets here and there. But it's pretty passable even for someone on the fence like me, and it helps that the pasta good and firm, not limp like some other stuff.. The pesto sauce is fairly zesty with all the basil and Italian spices, and even has a little kick. The veggies in it are decent - they definitely taste grilled, and are quite flavorful, but they're kinda squishy. It'd be nice if zucchini and peppers were a little crisper, but I guess between grilling, freezing and nuking there's only so much that can be expected. You get a fairly generous portion, even for someone with a larger appetite like me. Between this and an apple, I was pretty satisfied the rest of my work day. Pretty simple to make, too - just take off the surrounding cardboard, peel a corner of the top film off, zap it, and three minutes later you got lunch. Good tasting stuff.

But I have a complaint to make. I hope it's at least somewhat valid. But I love containers, simply because they can "contain" things. What things? Anything! And if you get them for free somehow, like with a food purchase, even better. Chinese takeout Tupperware is the king of this. I routinely save any and all beer case boxes to store stuff in the basement. Sandy, when preparing to move in, had to take quite some time convincing me it was okay to throw out the stack of clementine crates I had accumulated and saved over many a scurvy-busting session. It didn't matter that the crates were empty and had been for months - they could hold something and be useful and just didn't belong in a landfill when they're perfectly fine. Seriously, I was nearing Hoarders-level obsession with this kind of stuff - my house was going to turn into a literal container of containers. I'm getting better (thanks, wife), but still ... this stuff comes in a plastic squarish bowl thing. It doesn't have a lid (just that film over top) and it's kinda flimsy-ish (suitable enough to get your lunch from the freezer to your belly), but it's just solid enough to suggest (to me, at least) that it shouldn't just be tossed and to instead find another use. I knew I couldn't bring it home or Sandy would give me the stink eye for sure. I tried to think of what I could put in it for work - about the only thing I could think of was paper clips, and I've used three of those in the last year, so that didn't seem too beneficial. And since it was lidless, it'd be tougher to re-use as a food container. To compound the issue, for whatever reason, my work doesn't have lunchroom recycling, so it wasn't a matter of just tossing it in a bin. I was genuinely conflicted about what to do ... environmental responsibility vs psychological/obsessive-compulsive indulgence vs domestic tranquility ... well, I won't say what I did, but I feel ashamed. Lunch shouldn't make you feel that way. Good thing it was tasty.

Sandy hasn't tried this and never will. There's not only cherry tomatoes in it, but also they're deliberately cut in half to spread their tomatoey guts everywhere. It's a nonstarter for her. So I'll just double my score ... I'll give it a solid seven overall. Give me a real lid for it, and we'll revisit this.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons