Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice

Okay, true story time: A little over five years ago, while still very much a bachelor, I lived in a house with a bunch of other guys, one of whom we found on Craigslist. Now, I won't say anything bad about him, because overall he and his girlfriend were pretty cool except...one day I got a call from him at work. He had never called me before. "Ummm, yeah, we, uh...we burned down the house," he said. Wha!?!? Apparently they neglected the chicken they were frying on the stove top in favor of watching Judge Judy and some grease caught fire and POOF. The entire house didn't quite burn down, and most of our stuff was okay, but my favorite recliner had to be pitched due to smoke damage, so I was NOT happy. Ever since then I have made two pledges: Never find people to live with on Craigslist, and always watch whatever I'm cooking very carefully, especially if it's something spattery.

I mention all that because combine that story, along with new parent jitters as I attempted to make my wife and I bacon and eggs after being home from the hospital for just a few days, and man, that was so incredibly stressful. I kept having to turn off the burner as she asked me to get this and do that so it took me an hour to make breakfast. A freakin' hour. I told myself whatever I made next on the stove top had to be a lot easier.

Thankfully, Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice is pretty easy. If you have about a large fry pan or wok, 5 minutes, and two tablespoons of olive oil, you got yourself a pretty good dinner. Note the take-out carton icon on the package - that's a pretty accurate assessment, and for a fraction of the cost. Our favorite local Chinese place sells a quart of shrimp fried rice for about $7, so once we pay tax and tip the driver and his little assistant we call Short Round (see this for that story), it's pretty much $10. This? $2.99. That's it. More importantly, tastewise, it's about right on par with typical takeout fare. All the rice and veggies taste right, and it has about the right amount of shrimp, which also tastes right, like most TJ shrimp offerings. I have only the smallest of complaints, and really, it's more like a quibble: I personally think it's kinda weird that's there frozen scramble eggs in it. Not that they taste bad, and I certainly include eggs while making my own fried rice, but frozen eggs kinda skeeve me out, and I'd rather have the option of including my own. That may be just me.

Sandy's a little less high on it than I am. I think it's because I have her spoiled. Not to brag, but for a pasty, gingery Pennsylvania Dutch boy, I make some darn good fried rice. She likes all the little spices I mix in, and I also make sure to dice the onions smaller just the way she likes them so she can't really see them, either. Admittedly, since I also favor my own, next time we pick this up (and there will be a next time) I'll dress it up a bit as it's kinda, well, not bland but more like just plain and unspicy like what you'd expect from a restaurant. As is, Sandy will give it a three, but since I think it deserves a better fate than that, I'll overcompensate a bit and go with a four 'n a half.

Bottom line: Trader Joe-San's Shrimp Fried Rice: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's All Butter Shortbread Cookies

When I was a young, strapping lad, I nearly qualified for the Olympics in the very popular event of Underwater Basket Weaving. They called me a phenom in the sport, but an unfortunate sprained left thumb prevented me from fulfilling my dreams. Now, watching the 2012 London Olympic games reminded me of those days and the dietary restraints that I, and indeed all such athletes (except for that robust-looking American sharpshooter lady) must deal with. In celebration that I no longer must repress my sweet tooth to such a degree, I decided to indulge on these shortbread cookies while enjoying the spectacle of the fittest humans in existence competing on the world's biggest stage and performing feats of athletics that even great warriors such as I could scarcely perform in my prime.

Apparently, each tiny cookie has approximately 11% of your daily saturated fat. Each cookie. Talk about indulgent. The good news is, they taste like they have 11% of your daily saturated fat. In other words, they're worth it...almost.

Sonia wanted them to be "softer." I'm not sure what she means by that. They're not hard. They're made of shortbread, and they have the consistency of shortbread. Really buttery shortbread. We both wanted them to have more fruit filling because we both like raspberry and apricot fruit stuff. But fortunately for raspberry and apricot-haters, a love of those two fruits is not requisite for loving the taste of these cookies, because you can barely taste the fruit. There's a slightly gelatinous texture in the center of each cookie, but any fruit flavor that might be there is slathered in a pound of butter and lost in the sweet cookie goodness.

In short, these guys are a nice treat for a party or something, but if we had these in the cupboard on a regular basis, I'd weigh 300 pounds. And honestly, I'm not sure if I'd want to waste my precious allocation of fat and calories on something with such a one-dimensional flavor. A big boost in the fruit department would have helped these cookies immensely. I give 'em a 3. Sonia gives them 3.5.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn

Growing up, my family definitely went through a Smartfood* popcorn phase. But it wasn't just my folks and us four kiddos. Our cat loved it, too. I'll admit, I don't recall if it was Greta or Cleo, but whichever feline it was, she couldn't get enough of it. She'd almost beg like a dog for it, and if you dropped a kernel on the floor, you had no chance (we were all strong proponents of the five second rule). Know Cartman's cat and his chicken pot pies? Totally plausible, except for our cat it was Smartfood. Back then, Smartfood would put little customer stories on the back of their bags, and so we wrote the company about it, along with some photgraphic evidence. I don't believe our story was ever deemed baggy-reading-material-worthy (probably because I wrote it, and it was way too long. Go figure.), but they still sent us a whole case of Smartfood. A whole freakin' case. We ended up eating so much of it (we also believed in not wasting food) that by the time the last little crumbles in the last sackfull danced down into our tummies, I don't think we ever bought it again. I certainly haven't.

Anyways, sorry to continue the snack food phase we're doing here, but as the pile of other folk's ceramic dishes and Tupperware on our kitchen table attest to, we're being very well fed right now as Sandy, Baby M and I are adjusting to being a family of three. Such a blessing. I'm loving all the homecooked meals made in somebody else's oven. We would've had kids earlier if we knew we'd be eating so well.

My one buddy (same guy who tipped me off to the best chocolate bar in the world) and his wife stopped over a few nights back, and, among the homebaked bread, fresh fruit and chicken avocado spread (delicious!), they snuck in a bag of Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn. Even though it's not something I wouldn't have bought on my own, I figure, it's in my house, it's a freebie, it's probably good, so why not review it?

I'll start with the good...not that there's really anything bad. It's perfect texture-wise - kinda pillowy, kinda Styrofoamy, and very munchable. That I like. Cheddarwise, it's alright, too. Kinda sharp but...there's just not enough. I seem to remember Smartfood being coated all over the place, with the white powdery residue caking onto your fingers no matter what you did. These kernels have one foot in the plain world, the other in the cheddar world. It's true as we get towards the bottom of the bag, that may change. I suppose one could choose to have the snooty, pinkie-in-the-air attitude that the popcorn is so much more refined this way. I choose not to, and that's coming from a guy who hasn't had white cheddar popcorn in years, and pretty much hates the orangey cheesy variety. Maybe I miss Smartfood more than I thought. Maybe I'll check the vending machine at work sometime and find out.

There's nothing all that bad with the popcorn. Sandy and I will eat it all and be happy enough. It's just there's not enough right with it. I think that may be a classic Trader Joe's problem with some products - they pull off enough unexpected surprises that it's a bit of a letdown when one of the more basic items is average at best. Sandy said she'd like it more if they were either more or less cheddar. I think I'd side on the "more" side. There's enough other Trader Joe popcorn varieties that you'll find another one or two that might fit the bill a little bit better. Put the two of us down with some matching 3s.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's White Cheddar Popcorn: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Why the heck is it named Smartfood anyways? It's packaged powder-cheese popcorn for goodness sake. While not a dumb idea, that doesn't seem overly intelligent, either. Does buying it make you a genius? Did Einstein invent it? What a silly name. Next thing you know they'll name something Skinny Fries...wait, what?

Trader Joe's Skinny Fries

They're called "skinny" fries, perhaps not because they are skinnier than fast food French fries in size and shape, but presumably because they will make you skinnier if you choose them over fast food French fries. They're crispity and crunchity, and their flavor is vaguely reminiscent of an actual fry, but unfortunately, they taste like a reduced-guilt option.

They're very light. Not only low in calories, but each individual fry seems to carry no mass—as if they would float out of your hand if prompted to do so by the subtlest breeze. Although, paradoxically, there does seem to be a fine oily residue on each fry. They taste a bit like natural potato, and they taste a bit like vegetable oil. They're lightly seasoned with sea salt, and they do contain some wheat flour, but I must say I couldn't really taste it. 

If you're looking for something along the same lines, but actually want a bit more flavor, we recommend Trader Joe's Veggie Sticks. Not quite as light, but they're certainly not going to give you a heart attack—at least not by themselves. The Veggie Sticks are extremely similar to these Skinny Fries in taste and texture, but the Skinny Fries fall just a bit short in each category, especially flavor. 

Honestly, if I were going to choose a light, fluffy snack, and it had to be on the bland side, I'd probably choose a rice cake over these Skinny Fries. If I wanted something in the direction of an actual French fry, I'd go get some actual French fries (Trader Joe's has multiple oven-ready varieties). And if I were looking for some potato-crisp, fry-esque noshables, I'd go with the aforementioned Veggie Sticks. I just can't see us ever having occasion to buy these Skinny Fries again. They're not bad, but there are just too many better alternatives out there, in my opinion.

Maybe if you're a fan of the Veggie Sticks, but want to shave a few more calories off of your afternoon snack, these might be for you. We don't want to beat them down too hard, but we also can't muster a lot of enthusiasm for them. Sonia gives them 3 stars. I give them 2.5.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Ridge Cut Potato Chips

It's been a busy, 'round-the-clock-type week here at the Western PA division of WGaTJ's. In case you're new to the blog or missed the announcement in Nathan's recent pad thai post, Sandy and I have just welcomed our first child into the world, a beautiful little girl who I'll just refer to on here as Baby M*. All of us are doing well, and have been getting in the rhythm of feeding, diapers, appointments, visitors, more diapers, me going back to work, calls from family, more diapers, swaddling, napping...and oh yeah, diapers. I've been doing okay with those, and actually kinda enjoy them, which isn't bad for a dude who's changed two of them in his life until about the past week and a half or so. I am so happy and so in love with my girls.

One of the best perks of having a newborn is the number of family and friends who've stopped by with homemade dinners for us. It's outstanding, and honestly, most of their stuff is much better than any Trader Joe's offering. However, that didn't preclude us from making a Trader Joe's stockpiling trip a few days before we knew Lil' Baby M would be coming. From some of our favorite snacks and easy-to-make dinners to another sack of puppy chow for our now-even-more-paranoid pupster, we spent more than what we usually do, but it'll be worth it.

And I'm glad we tossed in a bag of Trader Joe's Ridge Cut Potato Chips into the cart. These crunchy crispers make a great between-meals snack that's helps keep us going between all the mac 'n cheese and enchiladas. These chips are thick cut and super crunchy - once or twice, my beautiful wife has glanced at me from across the room and said to stop munching so loud. To my recollection she's never said such a thing in the nearly five years I've known her now. A lot of them have the peel still on, which is an added plus for me, and aren't too salty. Sure, there's enough salt in them, but to me, when most products make a point of having sea salt in them, they go out of their way to showcase the saltiness, like these brownie bites for example. Not these chips - they taste like potatoes first and foremost. I'd imagine these being perfect for dipping but we haven't explored that possibility for two reasons: 1. We don't have any great chip dip options in the house and 2. We're not huge dip people to begin with. That's okay with us, these are pretty good as is.

Sandy's a fan as am I. "They're crunchy. I like crunchy, although I like kettle-cooked chips a little bit better," she said. Yeah, those are pretty tasty too, but I like these ridgy guys just about equally as much. I'm kinda split, though, on their crunchiness factor. On one hand, they're so crunchy that, perhaps partially due to sleep deprivation, after a few they make my jaw kinda tired and hurty. Not enough to keep me away, though. On the other hand, it's sorta like a form of portion control, and so I kinda liken them to sourdough pretzels in that regard. Sandy gives them a four, as do I.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ridge Cut Potato Chips: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*If you have to ask, the "M" stands for Mini-Me. Sorry, that's all you're gonna get :).

Trader Joe's Vanilla Soy Creamy

This product is yet another way to combat those 100+ degree temperatures out there. Cold, creamy treats seem to taste even better when you come in from the heat and humidity. And since the AC in my car is broken, everything cold tastes and feels just that much better. Did I mention that the driver's side window in my car is also broken? When I come in from that summer heat, you could put a slab of dirty ice in front of me and it would probably get at least 3 or 4 stars on the WG@TJ's scale.

Sonia bought this soy ice cream because she feels that she's becoming increasingly sensitive to dairy. She loves this stuff and thinks it tastes just like regular dairy ice cream. I couldn't disagree more with that sentiment. It's an extraordinarily different flavor and a slightly different texture, in my opinion. But I won't disagree that it's pretty tasty.

I'm actually not all that big a fan of plain vanilla dairy ice cream. It's boring. Give me the weird stuff. Give me the Ben & Jerry's that has 30 different natural flavors, give me the rocky road, give me the sexy flavors named after rock stars and late night talk show hosts. Cookies and cream is about as plain as I'll go on a regular basis. But, that being said, if you put this frozen dessert head to head against a traditional dairy vanilla ice cream, I'll take this Soy Creamy any day—because of its uniqueness.

It's soy-ish, but I mean that in the best way possible. It's very creamy. I personally think the flavor is as much like plain soymilk as it is like vanilla. But as those of you who've used soymilk on sugary cereal may know, sweetened soymilk makes as dessert-ish a treat as any. And the thickness is comparable to dairy ice cream.

All I can say is that if you're a fan of soymilk and soy-based foods, you'll likely be a fan of this. It is plain-ish, but you can go ahead and add chocolate syrup or whatever you please. (Sonia tried it with Nutella and dry oats and was pleasantly surprised).

If you've had soymilk or other soy ice cream and you absolutely hate it, I would go ahead and try this stuff instead.

Sonia gives this Vanilla Soy Creamy 4 stars. I give it 3.5.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Organic Woodfired Sicilian Style Pizza

Editor's note: I finished writing this just a few hours before my wife went into labor. I am now too sleep deprived to change some of the personal info-bursts in the last paragraph. All of us are doing great! Okay back to the review as originally written ....

Alright, folks, sorry, I got nothin' here. Absolutely nothin'. There's not a single thing I can write about pizza in general that I haven't already written, nor any funny tangential stories in which a pizza plays any sort of integral role. Nor do I have any tales relating to words "organic" or "woodfired" (although I'm a direct descendent of someone found guilty and killed during the Salem Witch Trials, my great * 17 grandfather was hanged, not set ablaze), and I used the only good line I know about Sicilians in my little Facebook blurb, so here we are. Like I said, nothin'.

Except, I guess, a recommendation for this particular pizza pie. It was at the TJ sample station for our pre-lunch trip over the weekend and just a little taste was enough for Sandy and I to pick it up for 5 bucks.

There's a lot of good things to like about Trader Joe's Organic Woodfired Sicilian Style Pizza. Let's start with the crust. It must come already baked for a while, because our frozen guy had some blackened/burny bits on it already. No matter. Pull it out of the oven, slice it up, and bite down...it's convincingly woodfired-oven tasting, with the crispy crunchy crackeriness that's light and airy yet so satisfying. Fantastic, kinda like using the lavash bread as a pizza crust, except ths is much better. The pearl mozzarella is a nice touch, and the red peppers taste nice and roasted up. There's also a little oil packet that comes with the pizza that you're supposed to squeeze on top about halfway thru the baking process. I tell you what, we have some chipotle olive oil around the house, and the oil that comes with the pizza has a much bigger kick. It adds a great spicy, aromatic flavor without being overkill. In all, it's one pretty darn tasty pizza that's a good value for its size (about 12 inches) and taste...I think you could expect to pay at least twice as much at a restaurant, and it'd be a toss up if it'd be better than this pizza or not.

Sandy's a fan as well. "Mmm. Spicy. I like it...Mmm. Crunchy. I like it. Almost as good as ice," she said when I asked for her opinion. That last little bit about ice? She's been literally eating a seven pound bag of ice at least every 2 or 3 days (sometimes in one day) for over a month, solid, now. Pregnant women can do some crazy things, especially towards the end (which we are), and I guess it beats her chowing down dirt in the backyard, so I'll take it. For her to say something is "almost as good as ice" at this point is high, high praise. Sandy says a four. Me? The crust and oil flavoring put this one towards the top for me. I like when the little things are done right. I'll go with 4.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Woodfired Sicilian Style Pizza: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Ming's Pad Thai and Peanut Satay Noodles

So...I have to start this entry off with a congrats to Russ and Sandy, the other half of What's Good at Trader Joe's, on the birth of their first baby, an adorable girl, born on 7/11/12. Awesome. Everybody's healthy and cute and ready to eat more Trader Joe's food. Rock on.

You might not want this stuff to be the first TJ's food in baby's mouth. Number one, I'm not sure infants are supposed to eat semi-spicy, highly-salty, instant-type noodles. But since Sonia and I don't have a kid yet, there's absolutely no way to be sure. Number two, they're really not that good.

Sonia preferred the Satay. I preferred the Pad Thai. Make no mistake, this stuff is not nearly as disgusting as Trader Joe's Satay Peanut Sauce. That stuff tasted rancid. This stuff just tasted...not that good.

Both dishes were void of texture, except for some very cheap noodles in a slimy sauce. They weren't rubbery, which in my opinion, would be the worst-case scenario. They weren't tough. They were just there. There was no meat. There were no vegetables. No crispy ricey things. Just noodles. And sauce. We both decided they needed a little something. So we added the only other thing we had in our freezer: Lean Cuisine Fajita Spring Rolls, which by the way, they do not sell at Trader Joe's.

And some people say we're not real foodies.

The spring rolls added some vital texture to the dishes and made them edible. Sonia stuck with the Peanut Satay. She said the Pad Thai tasted sour. I thought the Peanut Satay tasted sour, when it should have been, like, nutty and sweet. Both of us put Sriracha on our noodles. It helped. But in any case, I think I'll opt for ramen in the future.

On the right is displayed the nutrition info for the Pad Thai. Let it be noted that I was not able to display the nutrition info for the Peanut Satay opposite the Pad Thai because Blogger is being difficult right now. But I'll go ahead and tell you that there are somewhat fewer calories in the Peanut Satay. If anything, that's evidence to support my case: more calories = more deliciousness if you ask me...the Pad Thai is slightly better. Sonia's tastebuds must not be functioning correctly.

At any rate, she gives the Pad Thai 2.5 stars. And 3 to the Peanut Satay.

I give 3 stars to the Pad Thai. And 2.5 stars to the Peanut Satay. At $2 per box, I guess you get what you pay for.

Trader Ming's Pad Thai Noodles. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Ming's Peanut Satay Noodles. Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Tracks Ice Cream

This ice cream isn't bad, but it feels like Trader Joe is trying to imitate Ben & Jerry with this one.

Dairy Free Mochi is unique and Trader Joe-esque. Stuff like Pilgrim Joe's Pumpkin Ice Cream is simple enough to avoid comparison with Ben & Jerry. And, of course, the Lemon and Triple Ginger Snap Ice Cream is by far the best example of what we've seen Trader Joe's do with ice cream. It isn't particularly simple, but it somehow gives off an air of delicateness. And, while somewhat indulgent, it's more of a dessert you'd expect to find at the end of a five course meal in a fine-dining establishment, as opposed to something a gluttonous fat man would scarf down in between the tilt-a-whirl and the tractor pulls at the East Bumblehump County Fair.

This product, however, is a shade closer to the latter. Fortunately for this item's score, I'm no slender sophisticate, and I've enjoyed the aggravated roar of a souped up Massey Ferguson or two in my day. But I do have to say, despite its terrible name, I prefer Chubby Hubby to these Peanut Butter Tracks any day of the week.

I guess the name is a play on "moose tracks." Moose tracks has little peanut butter cups in vanilla ice cream, and that's exactly what this is. I suppose the peanut butter cups are intended to resemble muddy footprints of the large woodland mammals in a blanket of white-ish snow. There's also supposed to be swirls of caramel. Sonia and I both agreed that TJ's skimped on the caramel. But to me, that was of little concern.

I did enjoy the copious quantities of little peanut butter cups, and the vanilla wasn't bad...but it wasn't stellar either. My biggest complaint is just that the whole thing didn't blend together as perfectly as Ben & Jerry's stuff. There's just something so ingenious about their flavors. Somehow Trader Joe captured that kind of cohesiveness with his Lemon Triple Ginger Snap ice cream, but not with this. This really isn't even as good as other brands of moose tracks that I've tried.

But again, it's cold, it's sweet, and there's enough peanut butter in it to make it somewhat rich and filling. Sonia says it's worthy of a 3.5. I think 3 stars is generous enough.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Honey Mints

Imagine, if you will, if you're a musical producer looking to make a smash album, and so decide to get together two classic acts, like say Neil Young and Pearl Jam, knowing how well they'd mesh together. Then, you decide your collaboration needs something just a little bit more, so you call Kanye West into the mix. Or, for a moment, pretend you're a movie director, looking to make a blockbuster. You call upon DeNiro and Pacino (or, if you prefer pure hunkiness, Ryan Gosling and Lenny DiCaprio*), but needing one more actor to round things out, you call Zach Galifianakis' agent. Or, for your all-time Olympic fantasy team draft, you choose Michael Phelps, Carl Lewis, and the Jamaican bobsled team. It's not that there's anything wrong with each individual member of these threesomes (in fact, they're all good in their own way) but while two seem to mesh, the remaining third...just doesn't. It's kinda one of those "one of these things isn't like the other" set-ups.

To be honest, that's more or less how I expected these Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Honey Mints to be. Dark chocolate with mint makes a great, classic combination. But adding honey? Really? Honey's good and all, but while I could see it pairing okay-ish with chocolate, honey and mint together just doesn't sound all that great to me on the surface, and adding chocolate doesn't help it out.

Good thing is, I can be wrong, and I'll admit it. These are actually fairly good lil' candy disks, despite my initial hesitation. They're made from just three ingredients - chocolate liquor, honey, and peppermint oil. And, unlike you'd expect with the third party mentioned in each threesome above, I really didn't notice the honey too terribly much. If anything, the honey adds just a little sweetness, which, with the cocoa coating basically being baker's chocolate, is a good thing, while not interfering with the mint too much. In fact, if given one of these on a blind taste test, I wouldn't be guess there'd be honey at all in these. Each candy is a soft, melt-in-your-mouth bite that's pretty satisfying that strays almost towards the little-bit-too-rich side, which for me is good enough to keep me interested in eating just one or two of them at a time, as opposed to one or two handfuls.

Sandy likes them quite bit, too, and for more reasons than the "cute package" they come in. In making the obvious comparison, she says she likes them more than York Peppermint Patties, and that's enough to make them a good, solid 4 for her. I'm not sure if I'm willing to go that far, but I do appreciate these as an alternative that, perhaps because of their simplicity, taste a little more "natural"** than the competition. I'll go with a 3.5.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Honey Mints: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*I know he's a pretty good actor, but is he still considered a hunk? I know he was in the Titanic era, but really, I have no idea where Lenny's considered to be on the scale these days.
** This, of course, being a completely relative term that I tried to shake out of my head, yet it keeps coming back for no real good apparent reason. Maybe it's the lack of processed sugar that's getting to me.

Trader Joe's Wild Blueberry Pie

Since the Fourth of July is right around the corner, we'll go ahead and review this American picnic classic: blueberry pie. Perhaps it's not as stereotypically American as apple pie, but it's made with real Maine blueberries, and if you serve it on a traditional tablecloth like the one in the photo to the left, you've got an authentic slice of Americana, complete with red, white, and blueberry pie.

Upon first bite, I was a little disappointed with the texture and taste of the crust. It's a poor imitation of homemade, it lacks uniqueness, and while I wouldn't call it "stale," it's way too stiff to feel like it's even approaching "fresh." Plus, it's entirely bland.

The blueberries were a shade more exciting. Hundreds of perfect little blueberries in a subtly-sweet, semi-syrupy sauce saved the flavor of this pie. Coming straight out of the fridge, however, there was still an overall firmness that left me feeling like I was munching on something that fell a great deal short of the high standards I hold TJ's to.

Sonia microwaved her second piece for twenty seconds or so, and claimed that it greatly improved the pastry. I followed suit, and wouldn't you know it—the pie took a giant leap in the direction of delicious. Still, the crust couldn't be redeemed entirely, but the smoothness of the blueberry elements all but made up for it.

Could be if you tried this pie at an actual outdoor picnic that the hundred degree temperatures would have a similar effect as twenty seconds in the microwave. But served cold or warm, it's still a far cry from fresh-baked. However, keeping in mind that it's ready-made, sitting on a shelf, and only about $5 for a whole pie, we'll be merciful when we give our scores.

Sonia and I are on the same page with this one. 3 stars a piece. Not bad.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Oriental Rice Crackers

It's been a while since I've complained about the name of a Trader Joe's product. But this one affords me a golden opportunity to do so. Not Trader Joe-San? Not Trader Ming?  Perhaps the lack of an ethnic name stems from the fact that no single nationality lends itself to these crunchable little ricey puffs.

The good people at Trader Joe's, no doubt assuming that all Eastern peoples enjoy crisp ricey puff things, went with a name that suggested the entire continent of Asia. Not "Asian," of course, but "Oriental." I thought we had left that term behind in the 90's, but Trader Joe's has resurrected it successfully with these intriguing, snaxcellent morsels. Makes you wonder if TJ's will ever offer us a hot dog-ish meal or something entitled "Trader Joe's Occidental Meat Sticks."

The Rice Crackers are ultra-crispy. They taste like rice. Which, to me, is good. I like rice-based foods that taste like rice—because I enjoy the taste of rice. And yet, it's not just the taste of rice in these snacks. There's some kind of toastiness. And some kind of moderate spiciness in certain ones. And my favorites are the ones wrapped in seaweed. Yep. Some of these rice-snacks are wrapped in a bit of seaweed tasting very much like TJ's famous Seaweed Snacks. I'm not sure whether I like rice or seaweed better....hmmm....rice. No seaweed. No rice. I've just achieved the record for the greatest number of uses of the word "rice" in any What's Good at Trader Joe's paragraph ever. 10 times. Sonia, get Guinness on the phone!

Anyhoo, they're good—if you like rice and seaweed. Highly snackable, fun little shapes. They have a unique, yet somehow strangely predictable taste. I knew what they would taste like before I put them in my mouth. Which makes me think I've eaten something similar in the past. But my mind is shot these days...and I can't quite put my finger on what it was. Sorry.

Sonia says they remind her a bit of Corn Nuts. Maybe a little. That wasn't what I was thinking of. But I can see that.

Sonia gives them 3.5 stars. I'll give 'em 4.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Almond Croissants

I'll admit it: Sandy and I were bad on Sunday. B-a-d bad. Let's go in reverse here. We went to a Greek food festival for lunch, where after our gyros and stuffed grape leaves got settled in, both of us shared a plateful of baklava, halvadopites, and other assorted goodies. Awesome stuff. This was right after being at church, where for some unknown reason, someone brought in white chocolate cranberry scones and brownies which we both felt a little inclined to, err, "sample" and make sure they tasted good (oh, they did). That by itself is still kinda bad, all that pastry/baked goods tastiness, but when you include what we had for breakfast, well, it's a whole 'nother level.

Oh yeah, we had Trader Joe's Almond Croissants. One of my coworkers tipped me off about the croissants, and Sandy and I finally spotted them on the freezer aisle on Saturday. Let me tell you this right off the bat: a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Oh goodness. These might have been the best thing we ate all day, and that says a lot. Upon first bite, I was in love. The buttery, crispy outer shell gave way to soft, warm flaky, melt-in-your mouth innards that were so rich, sweet and almondy that it tasted almost creamy, if that makes any sense. It was almost like eating straight-up almond paste in croissant form, with toasted almonds on top adding a complementary crunch.

If I chose to, I could have a couple quibbles. The product's real name is "Trader Joe's 4 Almond Croissants," which is goofy enough for me to refuse to really acknowledge it. There's not four types of almonds in these croissants (are there even four types of almonds?), nor just four almonds per croissant, which is the name seems it would imply over just the quantity in the box. More so, this is the rare easy-to-make treat that requires some significant planning ahead, because they have to proof overnight (ours roughly quintupled in size) and then need about 25 minutes in the oven. Because of that, these aren't doable for our normal rush-out-the-door-to-work kinda morning, but that's okay. These nutty croissants are meant to enjoy leisurely with a cup of your favorite coffee, unless TJ's discontinues yours, like they did with mine. A couple batches of these would steal the show at pretty much any brunch, and while it'd be disingenuous, I'd dare you to try and pass them off as your own. As for the nutritional facts...it's a freakin' croissant, what do you expect?

"There's really not anything that these could do any better," Sandy said between bites. Oh, I agree. No complaints at all. I just wish I remembered we had some powdered sugar I could've sprinkled on top before serving them up, but that's what next time's for. Until then, we'll be dreaming of these pastry Pantheon-worthy perfections.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Almond Croissants: 9.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sweet Tea

If you ever find yourself in Ocean Springs, MS, as I did in the spring of '06, do yourself a favor and stop by one of the best BBQ places in the land: The Shed. Seriously, that place is awesome...live blues, an ambiance that lives "up" to its name, BBQ sauce so good I'm sure I bit a chunk out of one of my fingers but didn't even care, it was so delicious. Just a great place for some down-home cookin'. One of the other things I recall from my night there is, there being this blonde, perfectly stereotypical Daisy Duked Southern belle of a bombshell with an idyllic Southern drawl who came around with pitchers of icy cold refreshment. "Y'all want some sweet tea?," she'd practically purr in such a way with a smile that for one of the very few times in my life I could see exactly what Costanza was talking about with pastrami and women.* The only other times in memory were while taking in this bacon love ballad and, most notably, taking notice of the very cute, kinda shy, lovely brunette who not only brought an out of this world lemon lavender cake with white chocolate cream cheese frosting to a church picnic, but also put up with enough of my awkward advances and clumsy persistence to end up marrying me, the big ol' lug that I am. Love ya babe.

Anyways, I'm not even sure if that memory is entirely accurate (seriously, it was an out-of-body experience that night), but it's the way I remember The Shed, so let's say it is. It's kinda the same thing with the sweet tea there, too...I don't necessarily remember if it was good or not, but it seemed good, and since that was my first real trip to the American South and so my frst taste of the nectar that is sweet tea, well, I'll go with that was some darn good sweet tea there, too. In fact, I'll say it's the best, at least compared to a lot of the rest. Arizona Sweet Tea? McDonald's? The local dairy variety? Not necessarily bad, but not what I'm looking for, either.

Trader Joe's Sweet Tea is, though. In a positive way. There's a lot to like about it. First, and this is always a plus, look at ingredient numero dos: real cane sugar. That's what sets Mexican Coke and other sodas apart from their corn-syrupy compadres. Same with sweet tea. Other key selling points include the strong black tea flavor that carries all the way through, with the sugar offering a fair amount of sweetness without going way overboard like I've had with other brands. It's cold, refreshing, and it hits the spot when the temps soar up and doesn't leave me thirsting for more. It's been a while since I've had Chick-Fila Sweet Tea, so I can't do an exact comparison, but their sweet tea is pretty fantastic, and to my recollection I'd say TJ's is just about on par.

Both Sandy and I have been attempting to be good and trying to gulp about the same amount of our TJ sweet tea. Usually, I'll end drinking most of the bottle of whatever super-drinkable delight we pick up, with the notable exception of our latest purchase of the Orange Peach Mango, which she uncharacteristically hogged all to herself. Turnaround's fair play. Anyways, it took only a few days for our gallon to disappear, and I'm already thirsting for more. Sandy frowned a little when I gave her the last sip, so she's sad to see it go, too. It gets a four from her. For me, it's neck and neck with some of the best tea TJ's offers, as it's certainly not remotely close to being the awful swill that is the worst.** Let's say 4.5 from me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sweet Tea: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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* Obviously, that's an exaggeration. That's just a little...how you say...over the top, maybe?
** What's not an exaggeration is how awful that "tea" is. Nathan and Sonia must have been in a very generous mood when they reviewed it. It was a sample one day, both Sandy and I drank it, and nearly spewed it right out. Seriously, I'd practically rather go all Kevin Costner in "Waterworld" before I'd even think of buying that particular tea.

Trader Jacques' Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce and Trader Joe's French Vanilla Ice Cream

I've been kinda waffling for the last little bit here, trying to decide if I should include the picture over to the right there. Between my complete and utter lack of any photographic talent whatsoever, and the fact that Sandy I own the world's worst ice cream scoop, and how inartfully I drizzle my ice cream toppings, and how I wanted to rave about my favorite summertime dessert ever just for it to turn out so...unPinteresty-looking, I kinda hate the picture. Perhaps it's just more evidence that I should let the wife make and photograph dessert more often. Since my photo leaves no great way to even guess what it is, it's grilled pineapple rings with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce - so easy I can make it, so tasty I highly recommend you all go make it right now. Your boss will understand, as long as you share.

We'll skip over the pineapple part here, mostly cuz we didn't get it at TJ's...I prefer fresh, wife prefers canned, TJ's was out, and it wasn't worth putting up an argument about (as my dad says, you can be happy or you can be right). As for what we did buy at TJ's..

First up, Trader Jacque's Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce. Fleur de sel apparently literally translates as "flower of salt" which is some hoity-toity hand harvested sea salt from France. I read a Wikipedia article about it, and it really didn't shine any more light on the matter than that, so while this might be the Cadillac of sea salts, I wouldn't know any different. What I can tell you is, it makes one heckuva good caramel sauce. It's goopy and thick and rich and definitely full-flavored, while the sea salt just amps up the caramel flavor even more. I'm tempted to eat it by the spoonful, and in fact, I just might while the wifey isn't looking. I won't go out on much of a limb and say this is the some of (if not "the") best caramel sauce commercially available. Regular caramel sauce doesn't completely cut it (that squeeze bottle junk? Please.), and while there's always a place for dulce de leche, I just might have me a new favorite. Fantastic stuff, hands down.

Trader Joe's French Vanilla Ice Cream might be even better. I've always kinda regarded vanilla as a boring kind of flavor. I mean, it's just vanilla, right? For this ice cream, that's wrong. This is something tastier and fancier, like, I don't know, ~*VANILLA*~ or something. Except in a modest way, cuz vanilla still isn't all that flashy. Yet, I seriously do not know what it is, but like other Trader Joe's ice cream sent from above, we could nom all night on it just by itself, and it was even better for our pineapple/caramel dessert. It's just honest-to-good rich, creamy ice cream that for whatever reason struck my taste buds as being especially tasty and somehow more vibrant than any other vanilla ice cream that comes to mind. So good.

Sandy wasn't quite as enthusiastic going into dessert time as I was about this particular treat. She said some of it had to do with her having the caramel sauce before, and apparently it was a little too salty then for her taste. It wasn't this time around, she said, although the best she could muster up for the Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce was just a lowly, stinkin', miserly three. You better believe I'm upping that for my score. For our second French inspiration, Sandy (as usual) was much more enthusiastic about the ice cream, going with a four. I'm going a smidge higher than that. Regardless of final scores, this was one darn good summery dessert that certainly tastes a lot better than how my feeble attempt to assemble and photograph it looks.

Bottom lines: Trader Jacque's Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons
Trader Joe's French Vanilla Ice Cream: 8.5 of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Honey Glazed Miso Salmon on Salad Greens

I'm beginning to grow skeptical of Trader Joe's salmon products. The best score we have so far on a TJ's salmon dish was a measly 6.5 stars out of 10. But our biggest complaint about the Mojito Salmon wasn't the salmon itself.

The Sockeye Salmon, however, was a different story. In this case, the salmon completely ruined a halfway decent bag of pasta and vegetables. With a few notable exceptions, we had a lot of comments and emails supporting our findings and opinions about that particular product. The salmon in that bag was just nasty.

Yet, brave adventurers that we are, the foodie-hack bloggers of WG@TJ's plow forth—with our tongue-in-cheek statements of self-aggrandizement held high, ingesting even the most risky of TJ's dishes, hoping that we, for the vicarious benefit of our readers, will discover something unique and tasty and worthy of our hard-earned dollars.

This dish, unfortunately, does not fall into that category.

I must admit that there is generally a huge range of differing experiences when it comes to Trader Joe's already-prepared, refrigerated meals, since the freshness factor can vary a bit, and the amount and quality of each ingredient used can also vary. But again, as in the case of the Sockeye Salmon, we have a meal with great veggies and pasta that is spoiled by a batch of highly-fishy salmon. The dressing was good, the lettuce was fresh, the lo mein was tasty, if maybe a bit too soggy. No major complaints, except for the salmon.

But unfortunately, the salmon is the centerpiece of the meal—or so one would think by looking at the label. I suppose in this case it was a saving grace that there wasn't very much salmon in the salad. What little salmon there was tasted like dirty socks—and yes, I know what dirty socks taste like...long story, don't wanna get into that now #childhoodtraumas.

I'm just going to go ahead and tell you to try it if you're desperate for a lo mein-topped salad with Asian-ish dressing. But be prepared to scoop out the salmon and serve it to a starving stray cat, who very well may pass on the offer.

2.5 out of 5 stars from me. The same from Sonia.

Bottom line: 5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Grass Fed Angus Beef

Given the virtual cornucopia of fake meat products we've reviewed, up to and including the challengingly named Beefless Ground Beef, it's only fair if we review some real actual meat every once in a while, lest you start believin' we're some sort of rogue vegetarians trying to clobber you into our way of living or something. That's not how we roll.

Truth be told, Sandy and I don't eat a lot of meat, particularly, and when we do it's usually chicken or fish, and not red meat so much. It was a pretty rare treat (more so for me) when I picked up a pack of steaks to grill up the other week in a last ditch effort to get her iron up before our kid makes his/her grand debut literally any day now. Other than that, other than the occasional dinner at a place like Burgatory or the sporadic cook out burger, beef just isn't one of our usual purchases for whatever reason.

So anyways, for the reason mentioned above, last trip we picked up Trader Joe's Grass Fed Angus Beef to slap on the grill for some burger lovin'. There's plenty of grass-fed vs. corn/grain-fed debates you can read elsewhere on the Interwebs, so I'm not really going to be delving into those here. Instead, as usual, I'll be focusing on taste. Tell ya what: it makes a darn good burger. I molded four good sized patties out of the one pound hunk we bought for $5.99. Sandy needs her burgers well done (or at least not one speck of pink in them), while I tend towards more of a medium, juicy burger. This beef gave us the best of both worlds. Our burgers, while cooked them all the way through and even a little charred on the outside, were still juicely dripping with every bite. And they tasted like good, solid, honest beef, too, with a nice beefy texture. In all, it worked well with the garlic salt and pepper I mixed in, and tasted great alongside the grilled green beans (slathered with chipotle olive oil and sprinkled with kosher salt) for a classic summer time dinner. Good stuff.

There's one thing kinda nagging me about it, although it isn't necessarily fair. Trader Joe's by in large does well by me, but I've gotten enough produce that spoils way too quickly from them to fully trust it (hence going to local farmer's markets for that) and more times than not, the milk we buy from them goes bad well before the date on it (hence us always getting our milk at Target). We haven't had that issue with meat from TJ's as much but....see the top right corner of the package? "KEEP FROZEN," it says. That suggests to me that perhaps this isn't the freshest of meats if you have to buy it frozen and keep it frozen. I'm pretty sure that's one of the TJ's keeps their prices low - buy food that's close to it's expiration date and sell it for a discounted cost. For the beef, that's not as much of a hang-up for us, but I know that can be for some out there. That does, though, put folks like my wife and I in a bind where we have to cook the whole thing at once even though it's way too big for one meal. We now have two burgers in the freezer waiting to be reheated. That may be handy within a couple weeks. I'm just glad that there's official word from TJ's about their complete lack of pink slime offerings, thus to me making it worth ponying up a lil' extra for some at least semi-reputable meat.

Anyways, I liked our beef-full beef. Sandy did, too. I won't be able to quote her directly, but she said something along the lines of "Oooh man it was good, it was just what a pregnant woman needed, a big ol' chunk of CARNE to bite into that was all juice-going-everywhere-and-down-my-arms and delicious and stuff." Umm, okay. She went ahead and gave "about a four," noting that while way above fast food standard, she's not enough of a beef connoisseur to tell this TJ in-carne-ation apart from the truly great stuff. I don't know, it's pretty decent, and I'd say it's in similar quality to the beef we had in our tacos at my brother and sister in law's tonight. They get their beef from some free range hippie cow-huggin' happy farm kinda place, I think. Something around a four works for me, too.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Grass Fed Angus Beef: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Bistro Biscuits

I'm generally not big on hard, dry cookies...or "biscuits" if you must—but these crisp caramelized treats are one of a handful of exceptions to that rule. My initial impulse was to compare these cookies with Barnum's Animals crackers, which everyone knows are the creme dela creme of the animal cracker kingdom, far superior to even those with nifty pink frosting that come in giant bags. These biscuits reflect the quality and good taste of the Barnum's Animals, but possess a slightly more complex flavor. There's an essence of gingerbread present—and the word "caramelized," used on the packaging, has a certain propriety in this case, so long as you're not thinking of caramelized onions as I unfortunately do whenever I hear the word "caramelized."

After trying several of these dessert-ish biscuits, I was overcome with a shameful impulse... I wanted to put Speculoos Cookie Butter on them. And I did. For those of you with a severe simple sugar deficiency, that combo may well just be the cure that you're looking for. It's intensely sweet and gingery, and it'll send your system into sugar shock in the blink of an eye, and will cause a four-alarm fire in your mouth that only a good glass of milk can put out. Hours later, independently of me, after just a bite or two, Sonia was struck with the same impulse to slather her biscuits with cookie butter. Like me, she quickly satisfied both her contemptible culinary craving and her recommended weekly allowance of sugar in one fell swoop.

Flavor-wise they're winners, but again, their dryness begs for milk or coffee or tea. Did you ever, just sheerly out of curiosity, try a dog biscuit in your youth? I know I did. And it was never the taste that revolted me, it was always the texture—the dryness. It's like that with these Bistro Biscuits, except that they're way better than most dog biscuits. Both texture and flavor. Way better. I guess the dog biscuits are a really bad comparison to make. Nevermind that then. Please disregard this paragraph.

Sonia liked them a lot. With or without cookie butter. She gives them a 4. They remind her of actual British biscuits. She's had the real thing. I'll give them a 3. They're tasty little buggers, but again, I don't think they're particularly great as a stand-alone food. Check them out if you're into the whole "dunking" thing. And definitely try them with cookie butter, but have extra insulin standing by.

P.S. - These biscuits are vegan.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams

There's an old adage for us scribes that's been passed down over the generations: Write what you know. That was drilled into my head while getting a journalism degree at Penn State, and it obviously makes a great deal of sense. If you don't know anything about the subject matter you're writing about, it shows as blatantly as a glass of wine spilled on a white sofa. As proof, you should see the articles I wrote covering collegiate rugby for Penn State's Daily Collegian.

Or you can just continue reading this review about Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams. I'm not sure how many times I've had clams in my life, but it's probably in the single digits, and almost assuredly every other time they've been deep-fried. Plus, my history with canned seafood is more or less restricted to tuna fish, which I'll admit, I absolutely hate. The smell kinda grosses me out, and when growing up whenever my mom opened a can our kitty cat would run up begging for a bite, only to barf it up two minutes later. I'm sure there's a lot worse things to put in a can (oh yeah there is - viewer discretion advised) but it's not how I'd choose to get my seafood. The way I figure it, though, is if Trader Joe's can reasonably impress (or at least not totally gross out) a canned clam rookie, that must mean they're reasonably good. Alternatively, of course, they could be absolutely terrible, but if I don't know any better, then I'm completely off-base. Readers, you're going to have to be the judge here.

On to the clams. Hmm. So that's what a whole unbreaded/unfried clam looks like when the shell gets shucked. Umm...interesting. Gulp. At least it's kinda hard to make out where the face is, so I feel less guilty. To me, the clams kinda taste how they smell, which I mean as a compliment. I grew up going to Maine and visiting the coast there, so the gritty, salty, briny, mineral-ly, rocky aroma that permeates each bite is actually fairly pleasant in its own way. Yeah, they kinda taste like Maine, and I freakin' love that state. To keep with my theme of ignorance, I'm going to assume that the "cherrystone" part of the name refers to the dark center of gutsy matter that's in the clam's main body, because in no other way to me do these remind me of either a cherry or a stone. As I kinda suspected they would be, the clams are a little chewier than I'd like, but then again, it's a whole skeletonless animal.

Sandy and I had these with dinner with a box of lemon pepper clam linguini we unearthed a little while back while tearing apart and putting our kitchen back together. I think at first I pushed to make it with shrimp instead, but since the pasta box said "clam", Sandy insisted we couldn't. It had to be clams, thus forcing our purchase ($1.99 a can). In a way, that turned out to be a good thing, as we've found out we need to be a little more intentional about iron in her diet in the last couple days/weeks/however long before our lil' baby decides to make his/her appearance (due in just a few weeks! We're getting our hospital bag packed!). Anyways, both Sandy and I feel about the same about them - decent enough, but no strong feelings one way or the other, mostly because we don't know any better. We'll be fair and give it a solid "not bad."

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Maine Whole Cherrystone Clams: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Popcorn with Herbs and Spices

The popcorn in this bag looks like it fell on the floor—all covered in little flecks of dark matter and hair-like strands of oregano and other herbstuffs. It also tastes like it fell on the floor—that is, if your floor happens to be covered in delicious salt, spices and tasty flavorful plant matter.

It's pretty much your standard popcorn fare, with a nice little kick. Similar to other TJ's popcorn products or products like Smartfood, it tastes and feels "lite." Not lacking in flavor, just easy on the heavy, buttery, oiliness that bogs down some major national brands and movie theater popcorns. It tastes lightly salted, and it stays crunchy enough, even though it's pre-popped and sitting in a bag for who knows how long...

But of course, it's the herb and spice flavor that sets this popcorn apart from anything you might have had in the past. There's a perfect amount of spice, in my opinion. It's not enough that it should scare anyone away from trying it, except those who are ultra-sensitive to spiciness. It's really not a hot spiciness, it's a flavorful spiciness. But by that same token, if you're looking for a 5-alarm fire, you're going to need to pick up some hot sauce to bring it up to that level. It tastes like pepper, oregano, basil, dill, and maybe a hint of onion. Looking at the bag right now, there is apparently no oregano in it, but both Sonia and I felt like there was some present.

Sonia thinks it's delicious. She says she could eat a whole bag by herself. Considering the aforementioned "liteness," eating an entire bag in one sitting would be entirely plausible. I think I could knock off a bag by myself, too. This stuff is a welcome, spicy twist on a classic salty treat.

Sonia gives it 4 stars. I'll go with a 3.5. Snackariffic.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.