Trader Joe's Sesame Honey Almonds

Sonia loved these. I wasn't as thrilled. I love almonds. I love honey. And I feel fairly positive about sesame seeds. They work great on hamburger buns—the way Mickey D's does it. It's not overwhelming. I've had some buns from the grocery store, though, at summer barbecues and such that were simply riddled with sesame seeds. They don't have a particularly powerful taste, but when they band together in massive hordes, it's pretty hard to ignore them. Which isn't bad, except that they're usually eaten with something else—in the case of the hamburger bun, you're generally eating them: A) with a soft, white bread roll type baked good and B) with a nice big slab of dead cow or veggie patty or maybe chicken breast or something like that. Plus condiments and whatever else—my POINT being...you should taste the actual burger first in that case, and secondly taste the bread, and then maybe some mustard or ketchup—IF you taste the sesame seeds at all, it should be VERY subtle.


In this particular case, the sesame seeds are being eaten with almonds. In my opinion, almonds should be the "burger" of this snack, and the sesame seeds should always play second fiddle. They're just a little too sesame-ish to me. Again, I enjoy sesame seeds—but they're supposed to be...well, supporting cast members. Like Jay and Silent Bob. They make great background characters...characters that make cute, vulgar little cameos and then go away. In the case of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, it's just way too much Jay and Silent Bob. They should stay in the background. Sesame seeds are similar. But in this case, I think they overstepped their bounds a bit. Sonia disagrees.

Maybe my slight aversion to sesame seeds comes from these little candies my parents used to give me all the time. I wasn't able to have sugar candies back then, due to food allergies and sensitivities. These candies came from the local health food store and they were basically just sesame seeds glued together into these hard-candy-esque little rectangular dealies. I think they were sweetened with honey. I'm not sure what held them in their rectangular shape. It couldn't have just been honey because they were hard. When I'd put one in my mouth, I'd taste the sweet honey flavor, and I wanted more, so I'd try and suck all the sweet out of it. But the sweet went away quickly, and all I'd taste would be a big glob of soggy sesame seed. I didn't waste the sesame seeds, I'd eat them. A year or two later, I eventually got sick of these candies and decided never to eat them again. I just kinda suddenly woke up one day with this extreme aversion to masses of sesame seeds in my mouth all at once. All that to say that I'm probably a bit biased against masses of sesame seeds.

And these almonds have masses of sesame seeds glued onto them with honey. If there were fewer sesame seeds, I would have rated these much higher. It's a really good idea...just maybe not so much for people who hate masses of sesame seeds. Again, I don't hate sesame seeds. Just multitudes of them. I don't like them when they gang up on me. Individually, and in limited doses, they're quite lovely. Sonia gives these Sesame Honey Almonds a 4.5, noting that they are her favorite TJ's food this year so far. She likes them because they're extremely filling, slightly sweet, and a good source of protein. I give them a 2.5. That makes this product our biggest scoring-discrepancy in a long time.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Chicken-Less Mandarin Orange Morsels

Look it up on here if ya want: Trader Joe's has a pretty good rep with us for fake meat products. Soy chorizo? Veggie sausage? Beefless ground beef? Meatless corn dogs? All winners with us. Another winner with us is the inaugural member of the WGaTJ pantheon: Trader Ming's Mandarin Orange Chicken. Nathan and Sonia gave it a 9.5 way back in the day, and Sandy and I would give it at least that many in Golden Spoonage. Not everyone feels that way, though. Just read the comments there...I won't repeat them here because some of them's are naughty words...but yeah, there's a couple complaints about the quality of chicken for those.

My take is, if it's not unhealthy/bad for you type stuff, and you can overcompensate by making it extra tasty with some great flavoring, well, why not? Use what's usable. Not every clucker out there is destined for Chick-fil-A glory, for goodness sake, and sincerely doubt those or any other Trader Joe's product was made from whatever it is in the picture of pinkish glop that McNuggets are made out of (that's been mostly disproven, anyways). Anyways, let's do an experiment here...combine one of Trader Joe's strengths in fake meat technology, and replace the component most often criticized in one of their otherwise universally successful dishes, and what do you get? Trader Joe's Chicken-Less Mandarin Orange Morsels, of course. Sandy and I saw it, and we were immediately intrigued enough to purchase it ($2.99, I think) and make it that night for dinner.

Making it is easy - it's the same process as the regular ol' chicken-full mandarin orange morsels. Dump the frozen bits out of the bag onto a cookie sheet and slide into the oven until they're done, then stir them up in a bowl with the orange sauce to get each piece coated. Serve over rice (at least that's what we do). 

Tastewise, I have absolutely no issue with the pollo dementira part - it's some combination of quinoa and grains and what not made up who-know-how into a fine tasting chunk of what would pass off as decent chicken - not the best, certainly, but really good. In fact, I'd say I wouldn't have thought it'd be fake unless I saw the bag. The problem I have is with the sauce - it's not nearly as good as what comes with the real mandarin chicken. It's thinner, runnier, and not nearly as strong flavored. I'm not sure what the difference is (maybe the vegan recipe lacks a key component) but it just doesn't work as well. What's left is this thin, vaguely sweet, watered-down orange soda-y type taste. Like other sauces that lack something, I was pretty tempted to try and add something to what TJ's had provided but...

...there was another issue. On the chicken-less orange morsel bag, it clearly says that there's two servings, approximately ten pieces each. That says to me that anything less than 18 fake chicken chunks would be a ripoff and any more than 21 would be a bonus. In our bag, there were only 15. That's unacceptable, even though all were fairly sized. That left us with the classic problem of "too much for one, too little for two" that some other TJ products suffer from. I also find it kinda disheartening that TJ's habit of meat skimping is making it's way towards the meat substitute product line, too. Anyways, I felt like I didn't have enough to really experiment with, so between that and being hobbled by tendonitis, I just stayed put.

Sandy loved it though, but not as much as the regular one, mostly because of the sauce-y lack factor. "The sauce kinda sucks for this one," she said. I agree. It does suck. So does the paucity of chickenless nuggets in the bag. Throw a few more in, and fix the sauce, and there's another pantheon contender out there. As is, Sandy gave it a four and I decided to go a tad low with a 2.5. To me, for having two major problems, it can't rank any higher than "not bad" no matter how good the rest of the dish is.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken-Less Mandarin Orange Morsels: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pomegranate and Lime Juice in a Box

When I see the name of this product, I should think of a jack in the box toy or the Jack in the Box fast food chain, but unfortunately, I think of the musical stylings of Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg on Saturday Night Live a couple years back. I can't help it. "It's my juice in a box! My juice in a box babe. It's my juice in a box! Ooh, my juice in a box, girl..." Except, if you know the song, they weren't singing about juice. Terrible.

It's been a while since Sonia and I have done a beverage review. And you should know before you read this review, as I've mentioned many times in past posts, that I love sweet beverages. I'm like a hummingbird. Not because I'm tiny and fast—I'm quite awkward, really. I'm like a hummingbird because they like nectars and so do I. Sonia doesn't like super-sweet drinks. Her tastes are more refined.

Not sure why TJ's decided to put juice in a box. This article points out some interesting advantages and disadvantages of juice boxes. Apparently there's some debate as to whether they're better or worse for the environment than traditional packaging. Either way, I suppose I should rate the product rather than the container, but considering that the word "BOX" is the second biggest word on the label, it is worth mentioning. Now, on to the taste...

Sonia liked it. It's tart. Tangy. It's surprisingly clear. It's not a thick juice. It looks and tastes a bit like Juicy Juice, like certain other Trader Joe's juice products that we've reviewed. This tastes pretty light going down, but I feel like it leaves an aftertaste and some kind of sticky residue in my mouth. It's not overwhelming, but it's the worst of both worlds if you ask me. I'd prefer a drink that has some real bite going down, but that finishes clean. I can't really identify pomegranate and lime juices when I taste this product. They could slap any number of random fruit names on the label that could describe the taste just as accurately (or inaccurately, depending on how you look at it).

Not every sweet-tart juice blend can be a big winner. I'm going to give exactly half of my 5 coveted stars. 2.5 from me. Sonia gives it a 3.


Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Cheddar Cheese

Want to know the best thing about having a pregnancy in the household, besides the obvious impending joy of welcoming a child into the world and the ongoing daily discussions about the comfort of your spouse's pants? The power of suggestion, especially for food, is so strong. Sandy will just be reading something that mentions a cookie, and she'll say "Mmm, I want a cookie!" That was definitely the case with one of Nathan's latest cupcake reviews and so we got the same tasty ones just a day or two later. But I definitely have this power as well. A few weeks back, for no other reason than that I'm a guy, I really wanted a buffalo chicken pizza. Pre-pregancy, this *might* be open for debate - "Where from?""What do we have here?""Can't we just get pepperoni?" - but with the bun in the oven, immediately once I said it, Sandy's eyes lit up and said YES. Bingo, we ordered Pizza Hut that night. But like Uncle Ben told Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility, so I try to not pull off that trick too often. I also try to be fair and indulge most of hers, which are limited mainly to things like tasty fries.

There's the every-so-often Trader Joe's indulgence as well, of course. So many crazy things in that store...We were perusing the cheese selection when she saw the TJ's Chocolate Cheddar Cheese. Kinda like the Yeti, I've heard rumors of such things but had never seen it, 'til right then in my wife's hand with the all-too-familiar pretty-please look in her eye. Truth to be told, it didn't sound like a good idea to me, but she had found the smallest chunk (good thing, it's 10 bucks a pound, our piece cost like $2.80), and well, I guess I owe it to you all, too, so I said sure.

There's only a few things out there that I'd find too weird to enjoy, but this is definitely one of them. I like the cheddar part of it, quite a bit actually. I'm not exactly a cheddar aficionado, but have had enough of the good (like Cabot's - I've been to their factory!) and not so good (can you say Valu-Time?) to know what the good stuff tastes like. This is good stuff. It's sharp, rich, crumbly cheddar at first taste...which totally falls apart once the dark chocolate kicks in. I suppose it's good chocolate, as most TJ's dark stuff is, but I find it just muddies up the overall flavor. At the end, my mouth and tongue just feel perplexed and not remotely satisfied, and my stomach's definitely discombobulated. The dark sweetness just contrasts the sharp bite of cheddar way too much. There's not an over-abundance of chocolate taste, but what's in there just ruins it all for me. It might be better if the cheddar wasn't as sharp as it is. Blecch.

I have a theory I think I've mentioned before called my "chocolate gum theory," which actually has two applications. They are 1. Just because two things are good separately doesn't mean they're good together. Also see: Mick Jagger and David Bowie. 2. Just because something is good in theory doesn't mean it's good in practice. Also see: Subaru cupholders (that's the least controversial example I can think of). This chocolate cheddar cheese fits both corollaries of my theory well - separate good, together bad and could be tasty in thought, but it just isn't. It's just not a winner for me.

Sandy, though, with her pregnancy hormones and whatnot? She actually likes it, but not overly, and I think it's because she said she can't taste the chocolate as much. "I mean, I kinda do taste it, but not really," she said. "It's okay for a bite here and there but I don't think I could make a whole snack around it." Indeed, I was kinda glad that after we sampled it, her craving switched to a small bowl of mint chip ice cream. She took a slightly positive middle-of-the-roadish 3.5. Me? Generally speaking, I think this is probably a love or hate item for most folks, my lovely wife not included. I think I've made it clear where I stand. I just hope Sandy eats enough of it so it won't get all moldy in the fridge. I'll give it a 1.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chocolate Cheddar Cheese: 4.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Ridge Cut Sweet Potato Chips

TJ's track record with sweet potato products is pretty stellar. Probably because it's pretty hard to screw up the sweet potato. Fry it, mash it, bake it...it's aaall goood. So far Sonia and I have checked out the Sweet Potato Pie Bites, and Russ and Sandy tried the Sweet Potato Frites. These products garnered scores of 8.5 and 9, respectively. Not bad. We're tough graders. Now, I'm not exactly sure where the term "frites" came from. I would have assumed it's some British nonsense, but I know that they generally call their fries "chips," and they call their chips "crisps." Well anyway, these are "chips" in the American sense of the word. Ridge cut chips, a la Ruffles brand.

These have a lot of good sweet potato flavor. They're nice and crunchable. Yes, "crunchable." As in "crunchable chipses." As in, that's what Gollum would call them. As in, I wish it were December already so I could watch the new Hobbit movie. But alas, I'm off on one of my notorious rabbit-trails.

Sonia says these chips are a good alternative to regular chips. If you're a chip kind of person, these do break up the monotony of regular old potato chips. And they're not super-sweet. If TJ's had decided to add some kind of brown sugar or mapley flavoring to boost the sweetness level, these would have been much more dessert-like and confection-ish. In my opinion, that would not have been a terrible idea—but I do have a bigger sweet tooth than the average bear. Sonia likes them just the way they are. There's just a hint of salt. When I think of them in my mind, though, I think of them as being more salty than they actually are. Not sure why. They're just... so... chip-ish, and chips tend to be salty.

My only complaint would be that they're not super sweet, and they're not super salty. They do taste natural, which is good. But for me, when I crave a snack, I'm usually looking for a sweet snack like a cookie, or a salty snack like regular chips. These kind of get lost in the middle somehow, and I don't find myself actually craving them ever, although they're absolutely snacktastic if you're down for something slightly salty, slightly sweet. I give them a 3. Sonia gives them a 3.5. If you're on the fence about trying them, and this review didn't sway you either way, I'd say that if you like sweet potatoes or sweet potato products at all, these are absolutely worth a try.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Corn Penne Pasta

Although I know it's kinda ridiculous to, I feel kinda bad for people with celiac disease or who are otherwise gluten-intolerant. I know it's not pity that those people want, but guess it's just a mild case of inherent self-guilt that while I can eat pretty much anything I want to, those with different allergies and intolerances just can't, and dangit, gluten is pretty much in everything and anything, and, from the outside looking in, that sucks for you all. In a purely jesting way, it doesn't seem that glamorous to have - the most well known celiac celebrity is Keith Olbermann, for goodness sake, and when I think glamorous, I do not think Keith Olbermann. Although, both Drew Brees and Posh Spice make the gluten-free list, so there's some hope, I guess. I also guess that Trader Joe's does a better job than most shops for having a gluten-free selection but my experiences have been kinda hit and miss. Maybe that's because, in my recollection, I've found only one passable treat (Nathan found a great one), I once tried the TJ's rice flour tortillas and, oh goodness, those were so gawd-awful I cringe thinking of them. Just take my word: YUCK. BLAHHH. DISGUSTING. Enough said about those, let's talk about something much tastier...say some Trader Joe's Corn Pasta Penne?

Corn's used for pretty much anything and everything these days, but this is the first I've seen it used to make pasta. That seems like such a simple, yet semi-brilliant, idea, despite the slightly redundant name. Other than the packaging, there's pretty much no indication that this isn't the normal semolina fare. The penne seems perhaps a little thicker and slightly more yellow than the standard, but it'd be hard telling them apart in a police line-up. I'd also say they take a little bit longer to cook. Other than that, boil some up and put on some sauce and whatever else (pictured here with the roasted garlic marinara [meh] and meatless meatballs [see this for my general thoughts on them, it's close enough])*, and you got a plate or bowl full of a pretty tasty dinner. Sandy swore she could taste the difference - "It kinda slides in here and there, and tastes kinda-but-not-really like a corn chip," she says - but me? Nah. It looks and tastes so close to the "real thing" that it's tough for me to draw the distinction. I think that's a pretty high compliment.

There's not really anything bad I can say about the corn penne, and in fact I hope TJ's extends the line to include other pasta types. Really, I could see these taking off, and for $1.39 for a pounder, they're reasonably priced. They're that good, and who knows, maybe they're a game changer for the gluten-free crowd. That's not to say I'll rate them among the stars. Sandy, as usual, said it best. "I'd rate them higher except...well, they're not 'special' enough," she said. "Like I wish they were a little more different from normal pasta that they stood out more." That's a pretty accurate statement, and I think a pair of matching fours from the two of us fit the bill pretty well.


Bottom line: Trader Joe's Corn Penne Pasta: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Let's see, for dinner I ate pasta made from corn and meatballs made from, well, something not meat. If the sauce wasn't made from tomatoes, I *do not* want to know what it was.

Trader José's Spicy Hot Cocoa

Uhoh. Trader Joe's is at it again with their flavor-mixin' ways. While I'm a fan of most of them, there's been a couple that I've been pretty impartial to downright depressed by. And in this particular case of mixing sweet classic cocoa taste and spicy cayenne pepper, they decided to market under "Trader Jose" just in case it didn't work out right. I'm convinced they do that. Hence, upon a Facebook tipoff from one of our loyal readers (and the fact there was a huge honkin' end cap full of it when we made our weekly trip), when Sandy and I saw the Trader Jose's Spicy Hot Cocoa (put in the "organic" and "fair trade" as you will), we knew it made for a natural investigation, especially as we're both fans and semi-amateur connoisseurs of a good steamy mug of Mexican hot chocolate. For $4.79, it was worth a taste.

And daaaaaaaaang....I'm glad we did. I'm not going to lie, I love it. Upon cracking the foil seal I took a big whiff of the cocoa powder waiting to for hot milk to dissolve its every granule. It smells absolutely delicious, and pretty similar to Nestle's Abuelita, which is the closest approximation we've found stateside to the hot chocolate we've enjoyed in Mexico. Imagine classic cocoa-roma with a healthy dose of cinnamon, and yes, a tinge of cayenne. A few minutes later I got to pour in some hot milk and stir it up and take a sip...it doesn't hit you right at first, as evidenced by Sandy's reaction. "It's not so spicy...oh wait...*cough* it is," she said with a slight pain-free grimace. For some, that first hit might be a little much, but trust me, it gets better as tastebuds adjust. The spicy cocoa has the classic hot chocolate taste of "too rich to be milk chocolate, too sweet to be dark chocolate" with a heavy, heavy dose of cinnamon, like there's a full stick of it right in your cup. I'm almost convinced that's what most of the "spice" comes from, except there's enough cayenne to throw its weight around in there without getting out of whack. This cocoa's absolutely delicious from first sip to last gulp.

There's a few things I could quibble about, I suppose. First, $4.79 strikes me as perhaps a little high for hot cocoa mix, especially given the size and the directions to use a couple tablespoons (which is a wee overboard) for each cup. I would say something more about that, except somebody on our Facebook page said they spent three times as much on a comparable brand that wasn't nearly as good, so maybe it's not a bad deal after all. And secondly, this is dumb, but man, I hate heating milk. Don't get me wrong, milk makes waaay better hot cocoa than water ever will, and I can't imagine this being any good with water, but I actually have to pay attention while heating milk instead of waiting for a whistlin' kettle as I'm blocking all of my mom's Frontierville requests. Also, you can't heat milk as hot so it cools off faster, meaning I had to enjoy this a little quicker than I prefer. Other than that, I literally have no complaints about the cocoa picante. And as always, bonus points for being both organic and fair trade.

Sandy's not a huge fan, which to me is kinda surprising. If one were to make an action figure of her, her accessories would be, in this order: 1. iPhone 2. A book 3. A warm blanket or four and 4. Some type of hot beverage. That's how she survives these winter months, and since she's off coffee and craving sweets (the joys of pregnancy), I though this would be right up her alley. "Meh" is about what she says. "I wouldn't make a point of making it, but if you were making it I wouldn't mind having some." Possible interpretation: Heating milk bothers her way more than it bothers me. No matter, she gave it a three and she's sticking to it. That's way too low in my book. If it were up to solely me, we'd have another pantheon member, or at least the TJ spicy hot chocolate would be knockin' on heaven's door for it. At least I can say I got it as close as I could with a perfect five.

Bottom line: Trader Jose's Spicy Hot Cocoa: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pasta with Sockeye Salmon & Asparagus

This is the fishiest thing I've had in a long time. Maybe ever. And relatively recently, I've had some day-old scallop soup from an all-you-can-eat buffet in Atlantic City that made me puke a couple hours later. In defense of this Trader Joe's concoction, it did NOT make me puke. But quite honestly, the semi-rancid scallop soup tasted a heck of a lot better on the way down.

The word "sockeye" doesn't sound particularly appetizing to me. Of course, salmon is almost always delicious. Sonia has always been a huge fan of salmon. I like fish in general, and pretty much any sort of seafood or swimmy animal meat (except for acquatic mammals, of course, but I don't think people really eat them anyway). Mahi-mahi, or "dolphin-fish," is not really dolphin. It's fish. But that's neither here nor there, so let's get back to this revolting, fishy pasta medley.

It's not the pasta or the veggies that ruined this dish. Not by a longshot. The pasta, veggies, and sauce were completely forgettable. Which is good in a way. If they had been any worse, I might have been tempted to stop shopping at TJ's altogether for fear of ever having another product as revolting as this one could have been. But if they had been significantly better, it would have been a crying shame that they were so utterly ruined by the fishiness of the fish they were packaged with.

The only thing that was really terrible about this dish was the fish. I've never had such fishy salmon. I've never had such fishy fish. Ever. And I've eaten Shark, Tilapia, Trout, Sunfish, Mahi-mahi, Salmon, Anchovies, Tuna, Halibut, and probably dozens of other varieties of fish. Sonia and I debated whether or not the stray cats in the neighborhood, who are no doubt on the verge of starvation here in the middle of a Pennsylvania winter (albeit a very mild one) would eat this most fishiest of fish meat to save their scrawny hides from a sad, slow, and painful death. We never came to a definitive conclusion.

My advice is that unless you have some really bizarre proclivity for unbelievably fishy-tasting things, that you should avoid this product at all costs. This is the most disappointing salmon I've ever had. Period. The salmon in $2.00 Lean Cuisine frozen meals is pure gourmet, top-shelf delectability compared to this. When asked what she had to say about the product, Sonia simply replied, "disgusting." She gives it 1 star out of 5. I was tempted to give it less than one full star, but I'll give it a 1 since the non-fish ingredients weren't terrible. But overall, this is an epic fish FAIL.

Bottom line: 2 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips

I like how certain types of food can remind one of particular times or places, Whether it's a slice of good pizza that makes you think of that place in Brooklyn or Chicago, a good crab cake that brings to mind Baltimore, or for me, Ramen noodles (or anything like them on the rare occasions I still eat them) reminding me of malnourished collegiate days gone by, it's just a cool thing that food easily does to tie things together and connect them.

Whenever I have anything with plantains, I think immediately of my trip back in '03 to the dry coastal region of Peru for a college missions trip. Literally every morning we had fried plantains for breakfast (along with healthy doses of Inca Kola, which if you're not familiar with it, looks like Mountain Dew and tastes like Bazooka Joe), which you think would get old but surprisingly didn't. I loved it, and I've tried and failed miserably several times since to make them Peruvian style at home. Still, when I do, I like to think of the week I spent getting my butt handed to me by a bunch of 10-year old futbolistos on the hard soccer courts and teaching them all sorts of English words, up to and including "poop."

Anyways, when I saw a tall bag of Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips for $1.69, I figured they were worth a munch and crunch. I knew they wouldn't replace my long-gone Peruvian pleasures (after all, those were more plank-like while these are chips), but hey, you do what you can. And you know what? They're pretty decent. If you're not familiar with plantains, think of them as kinda starchier, semi-potatoey bananas. That's about the best explanation I got. The texture of them still comes across well even after being fried in sunflower oil - think banana chips but less waxy with a softer crunch, like if they got crossed with a ruffled potato chip. Tastewise, they're more or less on the money. The chips definitely taste a little roasty, a little nutty, a little earthy, and also a little saltier then I'd think by glancing at the nutritional rundown. And really, just a regular handful of them go a long ways towards satisfying a rumbly in the tumbly. I've had other plantain chips that seemed more potato chip like than these guys, so I guess the TJ plantains are a little truer than most, which I appreciate.

Sandy's not quite as enamored with them as I am. She took a small handful and chomped them down, but afterwards said something to the effect of general indifference towards them. "I mean, I'd eat them if they were around, but give me a choice between these and potato chips, I'd take the regular chips," she said. She's going with a three. Me? I like them, they make a great on-the-sly office cubicle snack (especially if you work in an office with at least one rampant lunch thief, like my workplace*), and I'll give them extra credit for the lemur on the package and the fact that these were made in Peru. It's probably a notch or two high, but dangit, these get a 4.5 from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Roasted Plantain Chips: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Someone seriously stole my homemade chili for which my niece gave me the mix for my Christmas present. Seriously, wtf? I'll take the high road and assume they needed food more than I do, but still, I think they should get one of these.

Trader Ming's Chicken & Vegetable Wonton Soup

This wonton soup isn't quite up to par with wonton from a good Chinese restaurant. It's certainly not bad, though. Again, we're talking about something that's ready in minutes in the microwave, and since there are very few other frozen grocery store versions of this type of dish, we wind up comparing it with restaurant food—which, of course, gives the Trader Joe's product a distinct disadvantage. Poor TJ's.

But quite often, their frozen dishes somehow find themselves in the same league as restaurant-quality foods. This happy little bowl of Asian soup is definitely much better than something I'd expect from a frozen microwave dish, but it's not quite as good as soup I'd expect from the local Chinese place (the good local Chinese place, not the sketchy place on the corner that's been shut down for selling cat-meat).

The wontons were actually the best part of this stuff. I can tell there's actually some chicken in the dumplings, and I've no complaints about the dough. The broth is what you'd expect - probably the hardest aspect of the soup to screw up: it's salty and a little miso-esque. What I thought fell a little short of the mark were the vegetables. They simply tasted like they had recently been frozen...which of course, they had, but because we know TJ's can do the impossible, we want them to do it all of the time. The veggies certainly weren't bad, but they just didn't taste fresh to me. Perhaps a slightly different array of greens would allow its recent frozenness to be masked a bit more by the salty broth and microwave magic. It seems to me that it's a bit difficult to mask an unfresh pod of peas. They're sooo tasty when they're fresh...and just so...mediocre when they're not.

Sonia gives it a 3. I'm torn between a 3 and a 3.5. But I think I'll go with a 3.5, just because TJ's used the name "Trader Ming" and not just plain old "Trader Joe." I like it when they use those unique ethnic names. They should use them more often.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie

For a couple alleged grown-ups, my sister and I have a little too much of a weird things going with tyrannosaurus rex*. Every time we see each other, she and I engage in what we call a "t-rex hug" by stomping up to each other while snorting while holding up our arms short - umm, we even did that right in the middle of my wedding reception...yeah, I'm glad Sandy laughed that off. My sis and I routinely trade pics like this one or this one, and I was beyond ecstatic when she gave me this shirt for a Christmas present. Don't ask me why, but I love stuff like that (I think of it as an alternate icanhascheezburger-type thing) and by extension love the old Godzilla movies (even though they're now the reason why I hate ketchup, but that's a tale for another day). Comparison graphics like this one make me actually even more excited for the arrival of Lil' Russandro/a in late June.

So, yeah, needless to say, want me to buy something? Put a t-rex (or something close) on it. Add in the fact it's mid-evening on a Sunday, you're flying solo and have to find a dessert for an evening family meal, the shelves are depleted and your pregnant wife is demanding something chocolatey but not cheesecake-y, and there's something on the fresh baked goods shelf with a "Choczilla" on it, and even for a kinda steep $6.99, you got a deal.

Except, for something called a Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie, it severely lacks enough of both chocolate and nut to stave off some disappointment. Basically, it's just a regular ol' pecan pie with dark and white chocolate stripes across the top and a small smattering of milk chocolate chips down below. Don't get wrong, it's good, but it's not even close to my Aunt Brenda's homemade pecan pie, the best in the world, against which whether fairly or not I judge all pecan pies. Hers is heavy and literally full of pecans. This? There's a thin layer at the top but mostly it's the mushy underbelly. That kinda helps the pie taste a little bit richer and perhaps a little more chocolately than it actually is. The crust is typical store brand fare, which I'm impartial on. And ohbytheway, don't bother squinting to make out the nutritional info. It's atrocious.

A better name for this would have been something like a "pecan pie with some chocolate" and if a reptilian mascot was really needed, use a gecko (they can shill more than just car insurance) or a snake or something. I'm really not sure what that'd have to do with pecans (maybe a mild chipmunk would be better), but I digress. My whole thing is, the name "Choczilla Nut Pie" conjures up an image of a thoroughly nutty, chocolately pie that this is clearly not, and honestly, although it's tasty, I'm pretty disappointed. It's definitely better than some types of chocolate pies out there, but overall the pie just lacks too much.

Sandy's in full agreement with me. "It could more of either and it'd be so much better. It's kinda weak as is, but still tasty," she said. I concur. If this were my creation, it'd be a full out chocolate pie with every kind of imaginable nut jammed in, and not just a slightly dressed up average-at-best pecan pie. I doubt this will be a repeat purchase for us, and based on that fact, I'll go a bt lower than the three Sandy granted it and go with a 2.5. Kinda like the arms of a t-rex, this definitely falls quite a bit short.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Apparently "tyrannosaurus rex" is both singular and plural. Who makes these rules? Jeez. That just looks wrong but so does "tyrannosaurus rexes" or "tyrannosauri regis" or anything like that.

Trader Joe's Sparkling Blueberry Juice

I loooove me some sweet beverages. I don't care what kind: sodas, juices, energy drinks, milkshakes, nectars, smoothies, frappuccinos, mixed drinks, dessert wines, chocolate milk, or eggnog. I probably drink more calories than I eat. And I'm proud of it. Maybe it's because I'm lazy. The whole act of chewing seems so tedious sometimes.

Why eat a bag of blueberries when you can drink one? TJ's Sparkling Blueberry Juice has got the same great blueberry taste and involves less masticating... No masticating at all as a matter of fact.

In another review of this product that I happened to stumble upon, the taste-tester said this product was "a bit strong." I totally disagree with that statement. Considering that the natural flavor of blueberries is at least a bit strong, I think the flavor of this product is actually a little on the mild side. Not bad. Just a bit mild. The deep, dark color of the beverage is a little misleading if you ask me. Anything with the word "blueberry" on the label should have a big, bold taste. Other than that it, tastes like real, natural blueberries. It's like blueberry juice mixed with some lightly carbonated water.

I also think this product could stand a bit more bubbliness. Carbonation is wonderful. It adds texture to a liquid. Think about it. Foods can have hundreds of different textures, but liquids are either thick or thin -- and they might occasionally have pulp or something -- but carbonation kind of adds texture and body to something that's generally pretty simple. Anyway, that's basically my only complaint. The mild flavor thing isn't really a complaint. Just more of an observation.

Anyhoo, I give it a 3.5 out of 5. I thought about giving it a 4, because it's a great subtitute for champagne (not that it actually tastes anything like champagne), and kind of has that Martinelli's sparkling, non-alcoholicky, fruity vibe. But I've given out a lot of 4's lately. Can't give everything a 4. If it were just a hair stronger or a tad more carbonated, it might have gotten a 4 from me.

Sonia gives it a 4. Her only complaint is that she wishes there were more. At $2.75 a bottle, TJ's could throw us a bone give us more than like 4 glasses-worth.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Spanakopita

You know, I was planning to start this off by going off on some tangent about Greek food festivals here in and around the 'burgh (there's one pretty much every week in the spring and summer, which is awesome) but then I looked up what the word "spanakopita" means in Greek. I'm so disappointed. There's a part of me that gets excited when I find out that a food name like "burrito" can be translated as "little donkey" or, my favorite, that "gordita" can be taken as "fat little girl." Now I know that Greece has a rich tradition of mythology and also I've watched enough Popeye cartoons to know what spinach can do for a guy, so, really, I was hopeful. I figured it meant something like "Zeus vitamins" or "favored munchie of Apollo." Heck, I'd even settle for "Minotaur vegetarian option." But no, it means nothing like that . Spanáki (spinach) + pítta (pie) = spanakopita (spinach pie). While being straightforward, it's also pretty lame. Eh well. Regardless of its pitiful nomenclature, spanakopita is one pretty tasty treat that Sandy and I routinely enjoy at the aforementioned Greek food fests so when we saw that Trader Joe's offered a box that just might get us through the lean winter months, we figured it was worth a shot.

Well, it's nothing like your yiayia's homemade batch, but for what it is, Trader Joe's Spanakopita is decent enough. $3.99 gets you a box of a dozen good-sized triangles that bake up in the oven. Whoever invented the idea of phyllo is a genius. Though so inefficient as dough needing layers upon layers, the phyllo on those bake and brown up real nice, keeping crispy in spots it needs to be crispy, and a little mushily saturated when it comes in contact with the spinach filling. The spinich filling works alright, too. It's strangely reminiscent of my mom's homemade spinach soufflé (which, believe it or not, was a favorite dish of mine growing up) as there's a lot of chopped up spinach with some feta and ricotta (more ricotta than feta, which is a minus) with a pinch of onion and whatever Greek spices. It seems like there's an appropriate amount per wedge, too, so all in all, they're pretty decent for the bake-from-a-box variety.

That's not to say they'll be joining our pantheon, though. First, there's the relative abundance of ricotta versus the pittance of feta. I know you want to keep it cheap, Trader Joe, but c'mon now. There's only enough feta in there for it to be tasted but not really experienced, at least in our box. Secondly, the box. Look at the picture. It's so lame. Put some gods or cyclops or at least Socrates on there, for goodness sake. Also it refers to the dough as "fillo." I've seen "phyllo" (my preferred spelling) and "filo" but never "fillo." It's not the first time that TJ's makes a goofy error like that on a box, but combine that with the generic design and lack of feta, I can't help but think this is some cheapie knockoff frozen brand in TJ's clothing. Kind of like the Trojan Horse, I guess. One last gripe: the spinach filling kinda spewed partially out halfway thru the baking time, causing this burnt mess I had to scrunge off our baking sheet, which I hate doing. As a word of advice, put some tin foil under these suckers. You'll thank me.

It's time for the Golden Spoons...hopefully we won't *fleece* them...sorry. Sandy seems to like them well enough, but I was a little perplexed when she went with a four for them. "They're not as good as the real thing, but they're pretty good anyways," she said. Hmm. Apparently, they're also not as good as reheated leftover pizza crust to her either, as she opted for those over her third spinachy bite during our pizza and spanakopita lunch the other day. Not like I'm complaining for picking up her slack, but let's just say these don't exactly get my Zorbas dancing either. I'll counter with a 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Filled Cupcakes

After our last review, Sonia and I were feeling a bit gluten-deficient, so we ran out and picked up some cupcakes. Not gluten-free cupcakes. Regular old glutenful cupcakes.

Now, I was super hungry when I tried these for the first time. It was the day after we got them home from TJ's. The cupcakes were moist, rich, and delectastic. (Does that fictitious adjective work for you? I have mixed feelings about it. It's supposed to be a contraction of "delectable" and "fantastic," but it kind of loses some of its potency when I have to explain that. But probably most of you would have gotten it anyway...I think. But anyway, I digress). Yes, delectastic. And I'm not really the hugest fan of dark chocolate. I know dark chocolate is tres chic right now. Everybody loves chocolate, and dark chocolate is supposed to be better for you than milk chocolate because there's less sugar and more cocoa bean and more antioxidants and more magical unicorn juice and all that nonsense. But I'm actually a fan of white chocolate because there's more sugar and less good for you stuff—and perhaps one of the best desserts I've ever had was a white chocolate peanut butter cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory, which is one of the most unhealthy restaurants in existence. If you actually look at the nutrition information for what you're eating, you'll probably never go there again. But anyway, I digress again—for the second time in one paragraph. Maybe it's time for a new paragraph.

Ahem. My point was that I like sweeter chocolates better. But in this case, the dark chocolate was both rich and sweet. Sweet enough for me. It blended with the peanut butter beautifully. One of the best cupcakes in recent memory. And I've had some pretty tasty cupcakes in my day. Crumbs and Frosted Cupcakery come to mind. There are those who will tell you that Sprinkles is of the same caliber as those guys, but I'm not one of them. Nor is Sonia. I'm also hoping to check out cupcakes from the legendary Magnolia Bakery in Manhattan on our next trip to NYC. And for you gluten-free people who've made it this far into what has become a highly gluten-laden article, please please please check out Sweet Freedom Bakery in Center City Philadelphia next time you're there. Amazing. In fact, if you're kosher Jewish, vegan, or allergic to wheat, soy, corn, peanuts, eggs, and/or sugar, you can still check out their products. Seriously. I'm not sure what is in their stuff, but it's none of that stuff.

Definitely not the case with these TJ's cupcakes. In fact, I think I just named the entire ingredients list of these cupcakes in that big sentence near the end of the previous paragraph. But on with the review. I ate two cupcakes the first time I tried them. They were great. The following day, Sonia insisted that I have a third while she ate the final one. I didn't put up too much of a fight, even though my tummy was protesting because of the first two cupcakes. (I am gluten-sensitive, but not really gluten-intolerant). This third cupcake was definitely not as good as the first two. It might be partly because I wasn't as hungry, but I think a big part of it was that the cupcakes were actually beginning to get stale. It had only been about 24 hours, but there was a distinct difference. Those first two cupcakes would have gotten a 5 from me. That third cupcake would only get a 4. So I'll split the difference and give these guys a highly-respectable 4.5 stars out of 5.

Sonia gives them 4 stars. She says they're not too sweet, just sweet enough. She says its a perfect peanut butter to chocolate ratio. She's a fan. And she's an even bigger cupcake connoisseur than I am.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Café Pajaro Blend

I'm going to admit that I'm really not all that knowledgeable when it comes to coffee. I'm just not. I sorta know what a café au lait is because that has been one of Sandy's usual pickups out at the coffee shops. But a caffè americano? A latte? Espresso versus cappuccino? Can't help you there. Heck, I get confused about what Starbucks names their sizes. I'd be the world's worst barista, easily. For a good space of time, I was thrilled with whatever gas station brew as long as there was a good selection of the little colored International Creamers available.* So, yeah, I know I'm not exactly a threat to take over the title of Mr. Coffee, but I know what like. I like coffee that's dark, strong, and vibrant, that'll smack me awake as I settle in with a fresh French press-full for a long day's work at my corporately bland, super-bleachy lighted, muted cubicle (as you can see from the picture - hey, look, my reflection!). In other words, completely the opposite from the free work stuff that tastes like brown water that somehow spoiled. With the right stuff in my cup, there's a fighting chance that I won't commit a felony or curse out some ridiculous insurance company have to deal with (believe me, I've come close).

As a coffee novice, I generally like Trader Joe's selection. Two big winners for me are the New Orleans Style with Chicory and the Italian Roast, but even the cheapie Cup of Joe stuff does alright in a pinch. This past time around, it was time for something new, so let's get on with the Trader Joe's Café Pajaro.

In case you don't know Spanish or couldn't pick it up from the packaging context of the big ol' Toucan Joe, pajaro simply means "bird." So we're talking about bird coffee. I guess that's supposed to make consumers feel like it's a tropical treat. Eh, maybe. The coffee bean mix comes from farms in Nicaragua, Peru and southern Mexico, so it's at least a little exotic-y. The beans are definitely dark roasted but not scorched (like way too much other stuff out there). When brewed, the output is definitely dark, dark coffee that smells rather inviting. For me, a little half and half is all I need to get it right. Too much added sugar will cover up way too much of the natural flavor that's subtly sweet with some chocolate tones. The good thing is, unlike some coffee/cocoa crap I got at TJ's around the holidays, the chocolate taste is there but it doesn't muddy up the overall flavor. It's not quite as bold as I'd like (especially when compared to the TJ's chicory coffee) but it's certainly not weak or watery tasting at all. It won't be the best-tasting coffee you'll ever have , but the Café Pajaro makes for a good cup better than any at-work option, and for $7.49 a canister, a decent value. Definite bonus points for being organic and fair trade.

For the most part, Sandy's been off coffee for the past couple months. The few times she's snuck a sip here and there, she's grimaced and said "blecch" and not much else. Oh, good ol' pregnancy-induced taste aversions that ruin things you once held dear (like one time when we went out for Mexican food). If the baby doesn't like coffee, what can you do? Anyways that means I'm handling the judging of this by myself, like an adult. Hrmmm. It's decent enough but I like the aforementioned ones better, so let's be fair about it and say....

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Fair Trade Café Pajaro: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I once made the mistake of telling that to a talented barista buddy of mine. He immediately cringed and turned away. We've never talked about coffee since.

Trader Joe's Gluten Free Crispy Crunchy Chocolate Chip Cookies

We're always getting review requests here at WG@TJs. It's often for random individual products that people are too scared to try...but there are two categories in particular that people always want us to check out: vegetarian/vegan stuff and gluten-free stuff. Lately, it seems like gluten-free has been more popular than ever. Since Sonia and I are both sensitive to gluten, we've tried a handful of TJ's gluten-free products just for our own benefit. (We usually just go ahead and eat regular wheat products and suffer the consequences). But we're also trying to help people who really have to do the gluten-free thing out of absolute necessity.

And thankfully for sufferers of Celiac Disease, there are a few products out there that make gluten seem downright unnecessary. This is one of them.

Sonia and I were both amazed by the taste of this product. Really amazing chocolate chip cookie taste. They're very, very chocolatey, with a strangely home-made quality for being super-crispy, packaged in plastic, and well...wheat free. There's a picture of what appears to be some colonial type bakers cooking up a batch of these things. Who knows? Maybe the gluten-intolerants of the seventeenth century whipped up batches of crispy rice-flour cookies all the time. Or maybe they were burned at the stake because their intolerance of wheat was assumed to be some sort of divine retribution for witchcraft. Whatever the case, I'm happy Trader Joe stumbled upon this tasty recipe.

The texture is exactly as described. Crispy and crunchy. And how! It usually seems like it's harder to nail the texture of a gluten-free product than the flavor, as was the case with Trader Joe's Gluten Free Brownies. If you really like the crunchy feel of crispy cookies like I do, these are spot on—but I do have to admit that I'm an even bigger fan of gigantic, warm, soft chocolate chip cookies. We may have to wait a while for them to uncover the magical formula that can yield a gluten-free batch of those. Until then, I'll be happily crunching away on these puppies. They reminded us of the little Famous Amos crispy cookies you get out of vending machines. But better.

Overall, I was very impressed. I'll give them 4 out of 5 stars. Sonia does too.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Frites

I love fries. Fries, fries, fries. Here they go down, down into my belly...

Let's cut straight to the matter here: Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Frites. $2.29 a bag. Worth it. For your greenbacks you get a pretty sizable bag of tasty orange starchy sticks, more than plenty for two people. Last night for our weekly dinner with my brother, his wife, their toddler, and a mutual friend, it was a stretch to finish off two bags. And what a tasty couple basket-worths those were. Just a little bit of time in the over, and the frites crisped up great, a little greasy on the outside, good and kinda mushy on the inside just like a good sweet potato fry. Tastewise, they're definitely a little sweet, a little salty, and right on par. Some of our comrades doused theirs in a little ketchup (ugh, but that's a story for another day). For me at least, the TJ fries were good 'n tasty enough to munch on down just as is.

I'd say they're just about perfect. Really, for a good snacky bite, it's tough to beat some good sweet potato fries, and I have to say, unless these are brand-spankin' new, I'm kind of embarrassed that it's taken me this long to discover them. The only ever-so-slightly negative thng I'd say is, perhaps they're just a teeny teeny bit pricy (by like *maybe* a few dimes) if for no other reason that I know plenty of spots around Pittsburgh to get a hot bunch of sweet potato fries for $2.29, at least after 10 p.m. or so. But that just won't be as much of a constant possibility soon...

You see, Sandy's been craving fries like mad recently. She's always been a fan, but the past couple months have really kicked it up a notch. If the two of us had to run out to the bar every time she wanted some good tasty restaurant quality sweet potato fries (which, make no mistake, these TJ treasures certainly are), well, we'd run up quite the tab (for me, at least). And Sandy would be a little tired for that anyways after a long day of work...hmm, while craving fries...I guess that's what happens when you're expecting a baby at the end of June...well, must be true because I just wrote it! Needless to say, it's very exciting and a little daunting for us, but I'll try to keep it contained here.*

In that light, I can see these fries being a repeat purchase for here on out. It's probably a good idea to keep an emergency stash for when her munchies hit, and believe me, I'd be glad to help out with a couple sympathy handfuls. Sandy was definitely enjoying these fries the other night (especially the ones that got a little burned for a little added crunch) and kept reaching for them, so I was a little surprised when she said she'd go with a four for them. Just a four? Really? All things considered, it's probably best not to argue about it, so I'll compensate by grading them a little more generously than I would otherwise to give them a five. It's teamwork. I think that's how this all has to work.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Potato Frites: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* I have a very limited soapbox (read: practically nonexistant) in the Trader Joe's world but...why not offer some type of babyfood line? You can even brand it Trader Joey and put a kangaroo on it. Boom! I should be in marketing.

Trader Joe's Sweet Bites

Because I'm a lazy fool, for one third of this review, I'm simply going to refer you to this link. It's our review of the Raspberry "Macaron aux Framboises" Cake, one of the constituent parts of this Sweet Bites product. I like how TJ's uses the words "raspberry" and "cake" in the title of the product on this Sweet Bites box. Framboises means raspberries, and I'm pretty sure Macaron is a type of cake, so for those of you who are bilingual, speaking both French and English, you're probably reading that product name as "Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake" or some other such redundant nonsense.

I'm sure there aren't that many bilingual French/English speakers reading this. I just wanted to write "Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake" because it makes me giggle. For those of you who are as lazy as I am, I know you aren't going to click that other link, so I'll just go ahead and let you know that we gave that cake by itself a bottom line of 9 out of 10. Not too shabby.

Next: the tiramisu. Er, no wait. They call it "Chocolate and Coffee Opéra Cake." But it might as well be tiramisu. I'm not a huge fan of tiramisu. It's overrated. So's this stuff. Pffh, "Opéra Cake," how arrogant. Maybe my tastebuds just aren't refined enough to appreciate it fully. Don't get me wrong, it's not awful. But when it's up against two big winners, its flavor is a bit too subtle—a bit too understated. And I'm not terribly into coffee-flavored desserts, anyway. Sonia gives the "tiramisu" 2.5 for being too soft. I'm not sure what she means by that, but I give it a 3 for being...not as good as the other two. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Finally, we come to the Caramel and Chocolate Cake. Sonia says she didn't taste the caramel, and that apparently made her angry. I guess she feels that TJ's jilted her out of some tasty caramel. I agree. I didn't taste the caramel, but I don't really care because the cake was freaking awesome. It was soft and sweet and full of some kind of yummy, creamy something. It wasn't quite a tres leches cake, but it was reminiscent of that level of deliciousness. Certainly, it was drier than a tres leches. By the way, tres leches is my favorite kind of cake. If you've never had a real tres leches cake, drive to the nearest Mexican bakery and buy one...even if it's in another state. Go! Seriously, it's worth it. You won't regret it. Sonia actually made a really good one this past week for Three Kings' Day. Sonia's cake actually overshadows all three of these Sweet Bites (I am writing that right now for the brownie points I'll get with my wife, but it really is true). So all of our scores may be a little low. But anyway, Sonia gives this one a 3.5. She says it would have been higher if she could taste the caramel. I give it a 4.5. I liked it just as much as the Raspberry Cake of Raspberries Cake. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

And for our final score, I just average out all three of the sub-scores.

Trader Joe's Sweet Bites bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli

What did one triangle ravioli say to the other triangle ravoli?

You have *acute* personality and I like your stuff!

Oh, goodness. My puns may have reached an all-time low. Believe me, that says a lot.

Assuming you're still reading this and not groaning any more, you're probably wondering about this particularly pointy pasta product and just good it may or may be, so let's bid arrivederci to the jokes and get on with the review of Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli.

It's decent enough, I'd say. You'll find this in the fresh pasta section of the store (which for Sandy and me, it's too easy to skip over, which is a shame). Each bags yields a fair amount of the shapely shells for two pretty hungry adults, and cook up as fast as it takes to boil some water. The pasta portion is the yellow-kinda waxy and thin-semolina variety which is nether good nor bad - it's just kinda there to hold its supposed treasure, the butternut squash filling. And that part isn't bad either - it's texturally on par and lightly sweetened with crumbled amaretti biscuits (read: sugar and apricot) while remaining completely dinnertime appropriate. I kinda wish there was a little more than the dark little circle of it that remains throughout the bag-to-pot-to-plate process. Appearancewise, each triangoli is perfunctory shaped, with a roughly equilateral triangle of pasta dough filled with a perfect circle of filling right in the middle, kinda as if IKEA designed them (I still imagine they'd be called Triangoli, except with an umlaut somewhere). Regardless, they're pretty tasty and Sandy and I enjoyed them.

We could've liked them better, though. For one, they taste all exactly the same, which by the last few ones, the savory factor kinda wore off. This could've been remedied by some sort of good sauce to go with them, but the package doesn't really make any great recommendations: butter, olive oil, or "your favorite sauce." Well, Frank's Red Hot wouldn't be a good choice, methinks, and neither would any tomato-based ones, so Sandy and I opted for butter. Not a bad choice, but still pretty plain.

Regardless, for a Monday night dinner, the butternut squash triangoli weren't a bad option. Sandy chomped away on them while finishing up some work-y work nonsense for her job and I deliberately ate each one, slowly and carefully, as I continue to recoup from quadruple wisdom tooth removal. Ten year old me would have loved having nothing but milkshakes for a week...not so much when you're old enough to have a mortgage and emerging bald spot. Anyways, Sandy gave these Italian imports a "three, maybe three 'n a half....okay, three 'n a half" for their squashy pasta ways. I concur but, unlike the pasta itself, round down.

Bottom line: Trader Giotto's Butternut Squash Triangoli: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Shrimp Corn Dogs

This is one of those items that I have to smile about every time I think of it. Not just because it's tasty, but because it's a silly idea. I wonder who came up with the concept, initially. I wonder whether there was some particular task assigned to Trader Joe's Research and Development department that might have read something like this:

"Corn dogs are awesome. Even fake-meat corn dogs are awesome. Your assignment: put different foods on wooden sticks and cover them with cornbread. Report back with your top three new corn dog discoveries. Go!"

The lucky jerk whose job it was to accomplish this task dutifully paraded out of his office with a handful of cheap wooden chopsticks or perhaps popsicle sticks—or maybe he just grabbed a couple of his cubicle-buddy's no. 2 pencils...he strolled down some boulevard, presumably in Massachusetts or Monrovia, CA, approached some random food trucks and plopped various foods on the sticks, then took them back to his "lab," dipped each item in a cornbread batter and then dunked it in a deep fat fryer. As he tasted each one, he taped his thoughts in a little hand-recorder:

"Hmmm...grilled cheese corndog...very yummy, but messy and impractical."

"Carrot corn dog...certainly edible...with a vegetable tempura-quality...but lacks the zing required of corn dogs."

"Doughnut corn dog...promising for carbivores and the health-unconscious...but we'd be sued for negligent homicide or something..."

"Burger corn dog...hrm...if they weren't circular, this might work..."

"Shrimp corn dog...um...yeah...if this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

He pitched the idea to his boss the following day, complete with prototype samples and an experimental predecessor to the sweet and hot chili sauce for dipping. The presentation resulted in promotions, bonuses, and accolades for the aforementioned lucky jerk, and thus, Trader Joe's Shrimp Corn Dogs were born.

Yummerific. The sweet and hot chili dipping sauce isn't hot at all, but other than that, no complaints. Another 4.5 from me.

Sonia says she doesn't like corn dogs. They should be able to deport people for such blasphemy. She's really only a 1st generation American. "Back to Oaxaca, Mexico with you and your misguided family, ma'am...until you learn to appreciate our culture!" She wanted to give them a 3. I told her that was too low. So she said, "Fine. 3.5." She added that there wasn't enough shrimp on the stick. I'll give her that. They should totally go with jumbo shrimp for version 2.0.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.