Based in Austin, Texas, Tito's Vodka has become the gold standard for cheap American vodka in recent years. It's far more drinkable and mixable than other inexpensive vodkas in our opinion, and if we have an occasion to buy vodka—which is relatively rare—Tito's is generally our go-to. Also Sonia and I are dog people and Tito's runs a charity called Vodka for Dog People, which we love.
So, naturally, others have tried to imitate the relatively smooth, sweet, gluten-free corn profile of Tito's affordable vodka, and it was only a matter of time before Trader Joe's hopped on that bandwagon. Trader Joe's Texas Vodka is similar in appearance and smell to Tito's, it too hails from the great state of Texas, and it's even more affordable at just ten bucks per 750 mL bottle. Which part of Texas is it from, you ask? Well, traderjoes.com says it's from Houston, but my bottle says "Dallas." Not sure about the discrepancy, to be honest.
Quality and taste-wise, it's pretty close to its name brand counterpart. There's a strong ethyl alcohol component to the smell and on the front end of the palate, which is dampened by the corn essence. The finish might be just a tad harsher than Tito's, but that can be remedied by mixing it with any number of juices, sodas, or soft drinks.
For the value, it's hard to beat. I like it just a wee bit less than Tito's, and I'd say it falls just shy of the Small Batch Vodka we looked at last year, too. Again, all of the vodkas mentioned in this review would fall under the category of "cheap vodka" and our opinions lack expertise—but you can't say we're not honest. Three and a half stars a piece from the beautiful wifey and me for Trader Joe's Texas Vodka.
What we have here is a wonton disregard for condiments and sauces. You feel me? This is a decent product, but for goodness sake, throw us a bone and give us some sweet chili sauce in a little packet next time. They even show a bowl of dipping sauce on the packaging. It might be nice to include the condiment since it's generally understood we'll be pairing these apps with something sweet and tangy.
Alrighty, I'll stop ranting for a bit and tell you what I like about them. They are crispy. We heated ours in the air fryer, and the wontons get all dark and crunchy around the edges. The middles are less crispy since they're a bit soggified from the cream cheese filling. They're just a tad oily, too, but letting them cool for a spell on a paper towel or napkin remedies most of that issue. They taste good—like typical crab puffs but without the crab.
The jalapeños are picante enough to give the wontons a kick but not enough to produce any discomfort, at least for folks who enjoy moderately spicy foods. There's a decent amount of cream cheese in every bite, so there's a rich, milky aspect to them as well. They really do want to be dipped in something sweet, though. Fortunately we had some non-TJ's sweet Thai chili sauce stashed away in the back of the fridge. I think they're way better when slathered with that stuff.
$4.99 for a dozen little wonton appetizers. Not the best value in the store, but still worth a purchase if you're looking for something tasty, crispy, and easy to make. Four and a half stars from Sonia. Four stars from yours truly for Trader Joe's Jalapeño & Cream Cheese Crispy Wontons.
Everything I ever knew about harissa I learned from Trader Joe, which admittedly isn't all that much. We saw a decent harissa-based salsa some years back. And I vaguely remember trying some sardines packed in harissa during one of our short-lived podcast episodes. What is harissa? It's a spicy chili pepper paste that comes from the Maghreb region of North Africa. This item isn't shy about its origins. It's a proud product of Tunisia.
I remember liking the flavor and intensity of harissa, but I think this paste is a more concentrated format than either of my previous encounters with the spicy sauce. I like a good bit of heat with certain foods, but I definitely have my limits. Hopefully I'll be able to apply this paste so it's strong enough to enhance my meals but not to the point of pain. Let's dive in...
The harissa hits you up front with a rich, pungent fragrance. It's peppery, smoky, and faintly vinegary. There's a layer of oil around the edges of the jar, and a moderate amount of seeds can be seen throughout the mixture.
Flavor-wise, it's similar. There's a bit of garlic and coriander in the paste, but they're mostly overshadowed by the intense hot pepper flavor. I mean, this isn't the spiciest sauce I've ever had, but it's not for the faint of heart, either. I'd put it at the same intensity level as a jalapeño pepper—and definitely a good bit hotter than the gochujang sauce we looked at recently. You feel it in your mouth and tongue immediately, and over time it slowly warms your tummy internally.
So far, we've had it on chicken and fish, both of which worked really well. We've added it to plain hummus to give it a kick. And we've also put dollops in things like Asian-style stir fry. I've heard some people like to mix it with a bit of mayo to temper the spice level and add it to burgers and other typical American fare. Sounds good, but we haven't tried it that way yet.
$2.99 for the jar. Not a bad value considering it came from halfway around the world and it'll most likely last us a long time due to its potency. We're eager to experiment with it some more. Four stars from Sonia, four from me on Trader Joe's Traditional Tunisian Harissa Paste.
