Trader Joe's Double Roasted Salsa

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's True Thai Vegetable Pad Thai

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baker Josef's Cinnamon Crumb Coffee Cake Mix

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

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

Hence, it is filed under breakfast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Ricotta & Spinach Tortelloni with Red Pesto

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

The cashiers.

Seriously.

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

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader José's Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burritos

Two or three times each winter, I make up a huge pot of chili. It's something I take pretty seriously, actually. I spend a decent chunk of time shopping for and chopping up a bunch of vegetables, browning up the meat, digging thru the spice shelf to toss whatever looks good in there, and drinking beer while doing so. Sometimes I'll skip the meat, pile in some extra beans and onions and peppers and make a mean vegetarian batch that even Chuck Norris would approve of. I don't make wimpy stuff. That's a good, fun evening that's tough to beat and usually reserve for when the Mrs. is out of town or having a girl's night. After I prep everything I let it simmer in the crockpot for a minimum of 24 hours just to let all the flavors seep in, cook up and mingle all together. It just doesn't taste the same if it doesn't - I don't know how to quantify it exactly, but the flavor just seems fuller, maybe a little smokier somehow, and just more complete. A good crockpotful lasts me at least two weeks of work lunches (my coworkers are ever so pleased) and the occasional bachelor dinner. Homemade chili is by far my favorite thing to cook, and one of my favorite things to eat ever. Sandy won't come near touching the stuff, which doesn't bother me any - more for me.

Why do I mention this?

The stuff inside these burritos is nearly as good as my homemade vegetarian chili.

Oh, it's different, for sure. It doesn't have all the chunks, certainly not all the hot peppers, and not all the random spices. But it what it does have is fantastic. These guys are loaded with black and kidney beans, potatoes, some peppers and corn which makes 'em pretty hearty. The base sauce is, as the label suggests, mildly spiced with some garlic, onion, and a hint of jalapeno and chilepepper, but certainly had more heat than anticipated. I will admit when I saw the words "mildly spiced" I presumed these would be tame enough for a baby kitten to munch on. Not so much. Granted, as someone who loves the hot stuff, I would have preferred more heat, but these weren't too sissy, and I probably could have just as easily added some hot sauce to tinker the taste a little closer to my preference. Hmm, maybe some of this?

But what I really liked was the essence of the flavor. Somehow, the burrito filling captured the smoky full-flavoredness my chili seems to develop with a daylong sentence in the crockpot. It's as if Trader Jose burgled his way into my house and took a sample one night while I was dozing away, ran off to some top secret bunker and extracted whatever it is that makes my chili so good and injected it right into these.

I will mention one thing I didn't like as much: the tortilla. Not that it was bad, per se. Apparently, they're made from both wheat and rice flour, which taste pretty good, but makes one Kate Moss-thin wrapper. My burritos were bursting less than halfway thru the nuke cycle in the microwaves, and when trying to eat them, all the goodness was oozing and poking out. By some grace of God I was able to keep my shirt clean and scrub the collateral damage out of my beard. Burritos with all this good saucy tasty filling need a tortilla that can withstand all the magma-esque qualities of the insides, and, sadly, these failed, though not quite to a catastrophic level.

But overall, these are pretty great. And I didn't realize this until I was reading the package wrapper while they were in the microwave, not only are these vegetarian but also organic. The ingredient list makes a point to list each thing as being organic, and if you squint enough you might be able to discern the organic stamp of approval on the front sticker. I sat at my lunch table with a vegetarian coworker and chatted about this fact. She said most grocery stores she's gone to, a couple organic vegetarian burritos like these run at least six or seven bucks for the pair. These were between $2.49 and $2.99, so apparently, a pretty decent value, and fairly healthy. I'll get these again for sure.

Sandy's not interested ever in my homemade chili, and by tangential extension* not so interested in these (too bad), so she sat this ranking out. I'm not accustomed to the burden of such responsibility. I'm deciding between a four and a four and a half, based primarily on the tortilla shortcomings, so, uh ... yeah, one of each sounds right enough.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

*Speaking of tangential extensions, if Chuck Norris liked my homemade veggie chili, he'd like these by the powers of the transitive property. So there's one celebrity endorsement. For a more direct one, these are Rachel Ray's favorite frozen veggie burritos. So, by logical extension, you better like these too or you'll be roundhouse-kicked to death or drowned in EVOO. Consider yourself warned.

Trader Joe's Grilled Eggplant & Zucchini Mélange

A "mélange" is simply a mixture or medley. That's kind of the vibe I got from the word even before I looked it up. Just a big mishmash of nonsense, a sort of confused mess.

"Mélange" is also a French word, which I would have guessed just from the look of it. So, shouldn't it be part of the Trader Jacques line? Sonia actually says she thinks this dish is Italian. If that were the case, shouldn't it be presented by Trader Giotto?

But no, we get an Italian dish with a French name served up by an American. A hodgepodge of origins. That's fine. I suppose you all want to know how it tastes...

When it comes right down to it, I can go either way with zucchini and eggplant. I'm a big fan of baba ghanoush, which is a mashed eggplant topping that goes well with pita and middle-eastern foods. Haven't tried TJ's version of it yet. I also like fried zucchini and zucchini bread. It's one of those foods that's really good dressed up, but by itself, it usually leaves a little to be desired.

All in all, this dish is better than zucchini or eggplant served plain by themselves. There's a tomatoey sort of sauce and some bits of mozzarella (which I didn't even notice while eating the dish, to be honest with you) and some bits of tomato...and maybe some other mysterious things...It tasted like what you'd expect. It's stewed vegetables in a sauce. Not bad at all.

My only complaints are that the pieces of eggplant were too big, and they were a little chewy. I think eggplant has an underrated taste, but it really has to be cooked a certain way or chopped up into tiny little bits and pieces for the texture not to ruin the experience.

We ate the mélange on some Trader Joe's Organic Brown Rice Spaghetti Pasta. I like this stuff. The noodles seem heavier and thicker than normal spaghetti, but they aren't giant, beastly things that can't be kept under control.

We noticed that there's a strange gelatinous residue left over in the pot after we cook this pasta. This wasn't the first time we made it, and it left this film in the pot each time. Weird.

So let's get down to brass tacks, shall we? The mélange has a fancy name, a decent taste, and enormous slabs of semi-rubbery eggplant. Sonia gives it a 4. I give it a 3.

Trader Joe's Grilled Eggplant & Zucchini Mélange. Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

The pasta leaves a funky film, but satisfies the tummy. Sonia gives it a 4. Me too.

Trader Joe's Organic Brown Rice Spaghetti Pasta. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Earl Grey Bagged Tea

Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.

Sonia and I both like Earl Grey, but we aren't exactly connoisseurs. This stuff tastes just as good as any other brands we've had. Cheap. $2.99 for 20 bags.

English black tea. Slightly bitter. Decent source of caffeine. Captain Picard would be pleased.

Until we can get this stuff to materialize in a replicator at the sound of our voice, we'll stick to the Trader Joe's version.

That's all I got for ya. I felt guilty because my last entry was so short. So I figured I'd throw in a bonus review. That and I wanted to use that "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot." line.

4's from both of us.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Blueberries & Cream and Vanilla & Cream Yogurt Cups

Emphasis on the cream. One small bite of this yogurt's enough to fill the stomach of a grown man. It's like the Elven Lembas Bread of yogurts.

For those of you who didn't catch that reference, please re-watch the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Back to the ultra-creamy yogurt. It's tasty. And...really, really thick. Just imagine a good blueberry or vanilla yogurt. Now imagine it five times thicker and heavier.

That's this yogurt.

I like both flavors equally. And that's a good thing, because they're packaged together. If one were better than the other, there could have been some household conflict about who got to eat the last of the better flavor.

The cups are a little smaller than the average yogurt cup I think. That's fine. After you eat one, it feels like you've eaten two cups of regular yogurt. Overall, me likey.

Sonia gives 4's to both. Me too.

Trader Joe's Blueberries & Cream Yogurt Cups. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.
Trader Joe's Vanilla & Cream Yogurt Cups. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Satay Party Skewers

Trader Joe has great taste when it comes to American cuisine. When it comes to Thai food, however, he should take a note from his buddy, Thai Joe.

These Chicken Satay Party Skewers aren't great. They're a little chewy and not super flavorful. They don't taste bad, but they're not exactly dripping with savory chicken goodness. We felt the images of the chunks on the packaging were slightly deceiving, since the little bits of thigh meat you actually get seem significantly smaller. As a bonus, though, you get little pointy sticks through each piece of chicken, with which you might poke your friend or partner in the arm for selecting such a poor choice at TJ's.

Oh well, maybe the chicken's slight lack of flavor was intentional...in order to allow the taste of Trader Joe's Satay Peanut Sauce to dominate the dish...

But wait, that doesn't make sense either, because this stuff's even worse. Way worse. Sonia and I have both had chicken satay with peanut sauce from more than one restaurant, and this is by far the worst either of us has had. The sauce doesn't even taste like peanuts. There are little chunks of actual nuts in the sauce, but somehow they just get lost in the mess of flavors crawling around in this stuff. I don't even know how to describe it. Sonia thought it tasted like fish. For those of you who've had real Thai chicken satay with peanut sauce, you should know that it is NOT supposed to taste like fish. I personally wouldn't describe it that way, but I certainly wouldn't describe it as anything positive. This peanut sauce is an emphatic thumbs down from both of us.

All in all, we just recommend you get something else from TJ's. If there were some other super-delicious sauce that was intended for use with the Chicken Skewers, it might be worth trying. The Skewers aren't gross enough in and of themselves to tell you not to ever try them. They're really not that bad...they're just not great. It's the sauce that really made this meal a disappointment.

Trader Joe's Chicken Satay Party Skewers. Sonia gives them a 3. Me too. Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Satay Peanut Sauce. Sonia gives it a 1. It just dawned on me that if I had no idea what satay peanut sauce was supposed to taste like, it might not have seemed quite so disgusting, so I'll be merciful and give it a 2. Bottom line: 3 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Uncured Apple Smoked Bacon

Really, can it get any better than bacon?

I don't think so.

Not to get too Lady Gaga on you, but baby, I was born this way (nature). I also grew up in Hatfield, Pennsylvania, the unofficial "home of the smiling porker" and have so many fond memories of Saturday mornings with cheese omelets and bacon for breakfast (nurture). I just love the greasy salty goodness of a few choice crinkley slices of pure heaven, and I know I'm far from the only one. Sandy doesn't like most pork products but she salivates at just the thought. Among my Facebook buddies, I have friends who do such things as making bacon-wrapped scrapple (freakin' delicious) and regularly track down and share pictures such as this. Studies have even shown that bacon is the number one temptress meat for vegetarians, simply because we as humans come wired to seek and crave this stuff. I have yet to meet anyone who can say anything bad about bacon.

So how does TJ's Uncured Apple Smoked Bacon stack up?

I busted out our package yesterday morning (it was Saturday, after all, and Sandy had some tasty omelets on her mind). Once I opened it, the aroma of slightly sweet smokiness hit me, that drew me in for a closer smell. Sandy gave me a weird look and was probably wondering why it looked like I was huffing bacon fumes, until I let her have a good whiff, too. Really, this stuff smells pretty impressive. I prefer to bake bacon in the oven (just easier, with a pretty reliable result) and even hours later, when we got home from a concert at about 1:30 a.m. last night/this morning, the aroma still permeated the air like the best Scentsy product ever. This stuff is of the thick cut variety, and we prefer our bacon good and crispy (Sandy goes as far to just say "burnt"), so it definitely took a while. The bacon strips seemed to have a pretty healthy meat-to-fat ratio, with the fat more concentrated on one side, the meaty parts on the other. Anyways, the fatty sides definitely crisped up pretty well, I saw, as I pulled our breakfast treat out of the oven. The smell was literally intoxicating at this point, so delectable and pheromonesque that it would make even the most militant vegan spiral out of control.

Tastewise, it's pretty darn good. The fatty sides were definitely savory, delicious, comforting, melt in your mouth good. The meatier sides, because of the thickness, were a little chewy and more leathery, but pretty tasty. You can definitely taste the smoke flavor and slight apple-y sweetness which works pretty well with the salt and gristle. Really good and satisfying, and a little tough to stick to my spouse-allotted ration of 3-1/2 pieces. Yes, I would steal bacon from my wife, and not feel too bad. Still, I was left with the feeling that this stuff smelled a lot better than it tasted, but overall I was fairly pleased.

Sandy wasn't as much of a fan of it as I was. She prefers more thinly cut so it burns up a little better and gets crisped up a little more evenly. A valid point for sure. She liked that taste though, and gave it a three. I'll go with a four. I think, for me, it comes down to gustatory preference. Apple smoked bacon makes a great accessory meat, like on top of a cheeseburger, but for stand-alone meat munching, I like either regular or pepper-crusted better. So even though our cumulative score is a seven, if you and your kin are aficionados of good, thick-cut apple smoked bacon, get this stuff and I'm sure you'll be well-pleased.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Hickory Barbeque Potato Chips

If you like Kettle Chips, you'll probably like these. They're similar in quality, flavor, and texture. Neither brand is a light food option, but both are made with mostly natural ingredients.

The amount of BBQ flavor in these chips is perfect. They definitely have that barbeque kick and tang, but it's not overwhelming, either. It lets the natural potato flavors through, as well.

They're a bit on the greasy side, and there are always little particles of the chips completely coating your fingertips after you've eaten a few handfuls. It looks like you dipped your fingertips in some kind of weird potato batter and then stuck them in a deep-fat fryer. Ouch.

The side of the bag says "Hawaiian style." When I see "Hawaiian style," I usually take that to mean there's some pineapple and/or ham somewhere in the product. Not the case here. Although I suppose they could have snuck a few drops of pineapple juice into the barbeque sauce they used, but I didn't pay close enough attention to the ingredients to notice...

If I had a weird anecdote about potato chips, I'd share it with you right now, but unfortunately for this blog post, my experiences with potato chips have been relatively boring and normal...so there you have it: if you like Kettle Chips, and you like BBQ flavored chips, try these.

Sonia gives them a 4. I do, too. Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Baker Josef's Chocolate Cake and Frosting Mixes

Since Russ mentioned Baker Josef in his last post, I thought now would be a good time to bust out a review of the Chocolate Cake and Frosting Mixes.

Now, let me break something down for you. I can't bake. I just barely got an "S-" in Home Ec in 9th grade. The "S" stands for "satisfactory," but the minus implies it's a little less than satisfactory, and just slightly above a "U" for "un-freaking-acceptable." I think they would have given me the "U" if I hadn't tried so hard. But I really did try, and I still failed miserably. So my teacher, though frustrated, had mercy on me. I remember my whole group was a little...shall we say "unskilled" in the culinary arts. All four of us needed a little extra grace in the kitchen. I remember one of our assignments was to bake rice krispy treats, and we wound up chiseling the blackened finished product out of the pan with a hammer and icepick. I'm not kidding.

So, the natural choice was to let my lovely wife prepare and bake this product. She presented it to me as a sort of late Valentine's Day present. So sweet. We also planned on giving a piece to one of our neighbors...but that didn't happen. We couldn't part with it. So. Freaking. GOOD!

Sonia's an adept baker. She says it was simple. She just added eggs, water, and butter to the cake mix, baked it according to the directions, and then added hot water and butter to the icing mix. Seems straightforward enough to me. But for some reason my IQ drops about 50 points when I'm in the kitchen, so I let her handle the whole thing. I do attempt to cook for my wife sometimes, but I don't want to screw up the dessert stuff. It would just be a big letdown for everyone involved.

I actually prefer white cake or red velvet. Not usually big on chocolate. But I must say...this was probably the best chocolate cake I've ever had. The icing was amazing, too. I wouldn't change a thing. The moistness and texture probably has a lot to do with the way Sonia baked it, but I gotta say, both of these mixes are big winners. Props to Sonia and her good friend Baker Josef.

And again, not sure about the ethnicity or the origin of this Josef fellow. But he seems to know what he's doing.

Double fives on both.

Baker Josef's Chocolate Cake Mix, Bottom line: 10 out of 10.
Baker Josef's Chocolate Frosting Mix: Bottom line: 10 out of 10.

Thai Joe's Coconut Curry Chicken Stix

So apparently there's this new tenderfoot dude named Thai Joe. Never heard of the guy? Well, me neither. Certainly, he has an interesting name. I mean, Trader Joe's has, besides themselves, Trader Ming, Trader Joe-San, Trader Jose, Trader Jacque, and, I think, Baker Josef (flour). Though there's certainly nationality implied in those names, none of them are directly labeled like Thai Joe. I mean, would you buy something from a dude named Chinese Joe? Sounds sketchy at best. I guess it's because there's a certain dearth of Thai names that resemble the name "Joe." I did a quick search on some shady looking baby-naming site, and after wading through the pop-up-a-looza that came up (don't ask why my work doesn't have a blocker for that), that closest thing I could find was the name Chao-Fa, which means "crowned prince." Hmm, Trader Chao-Fa ... that's a pretty cool name I'd be down with. Sounds a heckuva lot better than "Thai Joe," and it's a closer match than that Trader Ming character. What the name Thai Joe conjures up for me is, imagine there's a new kid in school, second grade or so, Thai, with a nearly impossible name to pronounce. Trying to be friendly, he says, "Call me Joe," but there's already five or six other kids in the class named Joe or Joey, so to differentiate him from every one else, one somewhat-culturally aware-yet-snotfaced punk dubs him "Thai Joe." Umm, well, yeah, that might just be me.

Anyways, for a debut (for me at least) product, Thai Joe's Coconut Curry Chicken Stix are pretty fantastic. They're typical spring roll sized and shaped, and even though we baked ours, the stix remained pretty crispy, flaky, and texturally appropriate. I'd imagine they'd be even better Fry-Daddied up, but that's too much temptation for too many bad things for us. The insides are just as good if not better than the wrapper. I've had the misfortune of having some food court-variety spring rolls with mushy yard work posing as vegetable matter inside them, and while these guys are somewhat sparing cabbage-wise, what's in there was firm and tasty. Mostly, it's white-meat chicken inside, diced in little chunks, and insanely good. Flavor-wise, the overriding taste is actually lemony (there's lemongrass in there as both a main ingredient and an ingredient in the curry sauce), but it's kept well in check with the coconutty undertones and overall flavor. If you're a spice-adverse sissy, you're be glad to know these barely register a one on a scale to ten. I personally would have preferred a little more spice, as good Thai cuisine is so talented at being hot without sacrificing the other flavors of the dish, but even so, they're pretty delectable.

However, like any rookie, Thai Joe made a mistake. Fortunately, it's completely fixable. On the box, he shows a small bowl of awesome looking peanut-and-something-else sauce. Other TJ products actually have a little sauce packet in them, or at least give you a recipe on the package for a suitable sauce. Not these. No bonus packet, and their instructions simply say to "enjoy with your favorite sauce" (or something to that effect). Well, in my household, that means Red Devil, Frank's Red Hot, barbecue sauce, and (for Sandy) ranch dressing (I think, it depends on the week). For some crazy reason, I don't think any of those would be right, and I'm ignorant enough to not know what might work best. I mean, you gave me an easy recipe for dipping sauce on your cilantro chicken wontons that was the bomb ... I don't think asking for a little help here is too much. Also, "stix"? Really? Call them what they are, spring rolls, and not some stupid made-up name. Stix? Sounds too much like that crappy band to me.

Though they'd be optimal for pregaming a Thai feast, Sandy and I baked the whole box up for lunch over the weekend. With some chips and salsa (we were in a multi-cultural mood), it made a great, light meal that I'm already craving to have again. Due to its immigrant heritage, Pittsburgh, where we live, is blessed with a plethora of amazing, locally owned ethnic restaurants, especially Thai ones like Smiling Banana Leaf. These rolls are good enough to pass themselves off as an appetizer at any of them, and at a fraction of the cost, too. That being said, support your locally owned restaurants, but pick these guys up too.

Sandy gives the springy stix a solid four as they made some pretty happy chomping for her. "Mmmmmm" is pretty much what she said. I agree. If Thai Joe shares any secret sauce goodness with us (packet or recipe), I can easily see this ranking climb even higher.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Gone Bananas!

It's time for a fictitious adjective. Let's go with "Ridiculuscious!"

I almost went with "Stupidelicious," but I already mentioned that one in a previous blog entry...either word accurately describes these amazing chocolate covered frozen banana slices.

How much can you do with chocolate-banana, really? "Aren't they all the same?" you might ask. Well, for starters, there are only 2 ingredients in these little bites: bananas and chocolate. Then, thankfully, they do break down the chocolate into its constituent parts. Pretty straightforward...you got some sugar and milk and cocoa. The only word I wanted more info on was "soy lecithin." According to Wikipedia, lecithin "controls...the flow properties of chocolate." Well, it must have done what it was supposed to do, because this chocolate flowed right down my throat and into my tummy with delicious ease and smoothness.

My wife's score for these was tragically low (only a 4 out of 5) because she's had taste-aversion to chocolate-bananas since the age of 6. Her story takes us back to Los Angeles, California, circa 1985. Her father had bought her a chocolate-banana from a street vendor cart, and the product was apparently a scary, ghetto version of the classic chocolate-banana. Within its dripping, melting, fake-chocolate shell, an old, semi-rotted, ultra-ripe banana waited...lurking...planning to ruin my poor Sonia's opinion of chocolate-bananas forever. Unfortunately, it succeeded. She became deathly ill, vomited multiple times, and vowed to never again eat a chocolate banana.

These Trader Joe's Gone Bananas! chocolate-covered frozen banana bites have begun the healing process in dear, sweet Sonia. The decades-old trauma is slowly being replaced with good chocolate-banana memories.

And that, my friends, is the only reason Sonia gave these a 4 and not a 5.

The bananas are perfect. Not too ripe, not too young. The slices are the perfect size. There's just the right amount of chocolate around each piece. I have no complaints. The last chocolate-banana I had prior to these TJ's bites was from Disneyland, about 6 months ago. The Disney version had fakey-type chocolate, the banana wasn't ripe enough, and it cost something like a hundred dollars.

To summarize, I really, really love chocolate-bananas, and Trader Joe's Gone Bananas! are the best chocolate-bananas I've ever had. Natural-ish chocolate and perfectly ripe bananas, with the innovative concept to serve the banana bites in little slices instead of the whole big banana-on-a-stick deal. Perfect. 5 out of 5 from me. And the only reason Sonia gives them a 4 and not a 5 is because she had this crazy near-death banana tragedy as a little girl...anyway...I can't recommend them enough. 

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Turkey "Meatloaf Muffins"

Let me explain something.

I love meatloaf. I think meatloaf belongs on the pantheon of great meats, joined by bacon, a good medium-rare steak, and buffalo chicken dip. If I go out to dinner at a diner, meatloaf is a given, a nearly sure-bet to satisfy. If the meatloaf there turns out to be bad, I have a hard time trusting any of their other food. I have been known to judge entire establishments based solely on their meatloaf. There's practically nothing more that I love than a homemade meatloaf dinner, and practically no sandwich I love more than a slab of meatloaf and a slice of American cheese on white bread. It's so simple and good. It should be a given that it's good. I would be a happy man if I could eat meatloaf every day for the rest of my life.

All that being said, I have never bought anything at TJ's that I was so apprehensive about purchasing and (even more so) consuming.

There were so many red flags going off in my brain about this. First off, they're called "meatloaf muffins," with the quotation marks clearly on the package. Listen, you can't put quotation marks around the word meatloaf - it's either meatloaf, or it isn't (though it could still be, technically, a loaf of meat). And then they're called muffins as well. The picture on the box led me to interpret that the mashed potatoes served a frosting-esque purpose, which, alliteration be damned, makes them a cupcake. Cupcakes have frosting; muffins are mere naked cupcakes. Look it up. Add to that the fact that the meatloaf is made out of ground turkey. I'm a fan of turkey burgers and all, but for some things, only some beef cuts it. Meatloaf is one of them. End of story.

Anyways, I finally worked up the courage to try these out Thursday night when Sandy was babysitting. She had no desire to even attempt one of these bad boys. I can't blame her, I was so skeptical myself. I told myself I was going to try to like them, that there had to be something good about them. It's Trader Joe's, it's meatloaf, how bad can it be? I wanted to like them, at least a little, so as to not cast a shadow over the Trader Joe name.

Oh man.

First, Trader Joe's takes the whole "muffin" concept a little too far. They come in a plastic muffin tray of sorts, and since they're frozen in, I had to get a knife to cut around the sides to get one of these meat cakes out. Secondly, their "preferred method" of preparation is two minutes on high in the microwave. Under no practically no circumstances should meatloaf be microwaved, let alone as a "preferred method" ... it just does something to it that I can't explain but it makes not nearly as good. I microwave it anyways, because if Trader Joe says this for the best, well, okay. Anyways, the microwave dings, I get my fork (even though muffins are supposed to be a hands-on food), and take a bite.

Again, oh man.

Usually, Trader Joe's does a great job of selecting products, but when they fail, they do so epically. Consider these the Titanic. These are so bland and tasteless. In fact, what I tasted the most was the spinach they squeezed between the meat and mashed potatoes. Of course, the spinach was limp, watery, and kinda gross by itself. The potatoes were definitely of the powdery box variety, kinda grainy, and barely hinted of the Parmesan flavor they were advertised as having. And the meatloaf ... I weep. It was just bad, completely devoid of any semblance of flavor. I tried a little chunk of it by itself, tasted nothing, but when I looked closer, I saw it was still pinkish. It wasn't even fully cooked. I know you can get away with that for steaks and burgers (in fact, it's encouraged) but to my knowledge, meatloaf is not something to be consumed in a semi-raw fashion. Honestly, the "meatloaf" (definitely use the quotation marks for this junk) reminds me of canned cat food, in semblance, presumable taste, and texture. Just awful. Put it all together in a four-bite sized morsel, and it's a dinner-time catastrophe. I'd almost rather have eaten Spam from a can, it's that bad.

I was going to eat another one, just to make sure they were gross (and if so, if hot sauce could salvage them), but my eyes slid over to the Nutrition Facts panel. Over 20% of my fat, cholesterol and sodium intake for my day in just one of these? I'm no prude when it comes to this stuff, but if I'm going to eat something that horrendous for me, it has got to be worth it. I settled for the timeless bachelor option of a bowl of cereal and a beer. Combine that info with their price tag ($6 for a box of four = $1.50 each), and let's just say I'm glad TJ's has a good return policy. I have nothing even slightly redeeming to say about these. At least TJ's has enough other really good stuff so I can't dismiss them completely as a company, but if this were my first ever purchase from them, I'd never go back.

In conclusion, to paraphrase the classic Meatloaf song, I would do anything for 'loaf,' but I won't do these. Ever again.

Bottom line: 0 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Rice & Bean Chips

When talking about finances and stuff while undergoing some premarital counseling with a great couple from our church, Sandy and I realized that we wouldn't exactly be the richest kids on the block. I mean, we wouldn't exactly be just scraping by, but it was fairly apparent that we'd have to clip some coupons and look for some ways to save when we could, especially if we wanted to do some things we said we wanted to. One of the ways we figured we could save was on food costs, and it quickly became a joke between us that we'd have to eat a lot of beans and rice, or mac and cheese, and when we got sick of those we could have rice and beans or cheese and mac instead. It's a good thing we like them, we said.

Well, it's also a good thing we finally discovered the goodness of Trader Joe's. Shopping there saves us easily (at minimum) about $30 a week on average versus the big local chain even when we shopped the specials and stuff. Now, we still eat plenty of beans and rice (and for that matter, rice and beans) just because we really do like them, and we're usually looking for some ways to chomp them down in some different, tasty forms. So when we spotted these on our last go-around, we figured they'd be a likely winner and a worthy purchase.

A likely winner and a worthy purchase indeed.

Unlike a lot of actual rice and bean dishes which can be heavy and filling, these are pretty light, crispy, almost flaky chips. They're made primarily of rice flour which gives them a unique texture and taste - if you've ever had a rice crust pizza, think of that crust and a tortilla chip having a love child, and that's about what they are. TJ's mixes in some corn flour to make them a little more chip like. The package proudly claims that they're made with adzuki beans. I found a website that proclaims them as the "Mercedes of beans" ... that's kind of interesting, because the name conjures up an image to me of an semi-beat up Aerio plastered with bumper stickers, not the Benz I'll be rolling up in after the Lord buys it for me despite me not having any friends who drive Porsches. But they're good. They're the beans commonly used in red bean ice creams if you're familiar with those (I'm not), which I understand are semi-sweet and nutty. I got the sense of nuttiness from them but not really the sweetness, which is probably a good thing. Between the crispiness of the rice texture, the nuttiness of the beans, and the slightly salty spiciness of whatever they put on these guys, they made a great snack.

Which isn't to say they were perfect. One of the things I look for in a chip is how well they work with salsas and dips. These were really made to be eaten on their own. They're about one inch square so they're not conducive to any load bearing of much consequence in the salsa department. That doesn't mean I didn't try, and at least with the salsa we had on hand, the flavor of the chip kinda screwed with the salsa to make it an awkward mishmash of taste jousting on my tongue. Still, they're pretty good and flavorful as is, so no need to dress them up too much.

Sandy broke these out for a girls night she had this past weekend. With the ones I wolfed down before she booted me out down the street to help a friend drink his PBR, I'm surprised they survived until the next dawn, but was definitely glad they did. It's even more surprising given that Sandy voted them a fivespot in our Golden Spoon ranking. I'll chip in with a more modest 3.5 ... they're pretty good, but just not quite pantheon-level great. No shame in that.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Heart Healthy Whole Grain Blueberry Instant Oatmeal

Certainly, there are several important things to consider when selecting a brand of oatmeal. "Sure, this one tastes good," you reason, "but does it have plant sterols?"

Well, you're really in luck because TJ's Heart Healthy Whole Grain Blueberry Instant Oatmeal tastes pretty good, and it has the flaxseed, inulin, and plant sterols you need to keep you going throughout the day.

And if you're one of those poor clueless saps that hasn't caught on to the plant sterol craze yet, just peruse the box for more hints as to what the heck they are...

Aha! Here it says they're plant sterol esters. Thank goodness. I was beginning to think they were plant sterol amides.

And then on the back, we finally note that a healthy dose of .65g of plant sterol esters per serving will reduce LDL-cholesterol and do other cool things to your body. No more searching high and low for those last six and a half tenths of a gram of plant sterol esters to round out your daily diet.

So, after securing your doctorate in biochemistry, with a solid background in botany, you can start to understand what's in this instant oatmeal and then progress toward more practical reading, such as the cooking directions, which are delightfully simple, written in layman's terms, and perfect for idiots like me.

It tastes earthy. Which is good, I guess. Must be the plant sterols. We wish it had more blueberries. All in all, not bad, though. Sonia gives it a 4. I give it a 3.5. Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Ming's Szechuan Style Spicy Beef & Broccoli

When we lived in Hollyweird, California, there was this little hole-in-the-wall joint people referred to as "Dollar Chinese," because back in the day, you could get any entree for $1. Then they changed the name and management like 8 times in 5 years, and prices gradually rose above the $1 mark, and recently they went above $2 per item I think...but you could always get obscenely cheap Chinese food there. For a while it was "Hong Kong Express" and then it was "Shanghai Surprise" or something (Surprise! There's cat-meat in your eggroll!) and finally "Great Wall Express."

When it comes to cheap Chinese food, for some reason orange chicken is the only dish that people can routinely get right. The orange chicken at Dollar Chinese was indeed palatable. However, if you chose anything else, it was generally understood you were taking your life into your own hands. The next-safest entree was considered to be broccoli-beef. At Dollar Chinese, for me anyway, it was a little too daring...I only tried it once and learned my lesson fast.

At a place like Panda Express, they can make a decent broccoli-beef, but I still think their orange chicken will beat it every time.

All that to say, I haven't had many broccoli-beef dishes in my day, and the ones I have had probably weren't the greatest representations of the dish, but I must say that Trader Joe's Beef & Broccoli is most definitely the best I have had so far. The sauce was amazing, spicy, and tangy. (Sonia actually thought the sauce was a bit too tangy). There were plenty of big, healthy pieces of broccoli, and overall, I was pleased with the beef. There were just a few pieces that were way too big. These huge, monstrous beef chunks wound up slightly unevenly cooked. But I'm probably nit-picking again. In general, the beef was crispy and well-done. I don't recall the other broccoli-beef dishes I've tried containing breaded beef, but TJ's brand was covered in a sort of thin batter not unlike the coating on the orange-chicken. I liked it, though.

We served it with Trader Joe's Brown Rice, which is always good, by the way. Sonia gives the dish a 4.5 out of 5. I give it 4.5 out of 5, as well. Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe-San Green Beans

There are some things that, when it comes down to it, I really don't quite get. For example:

- Justin Bieber's hair cut
- Why some comment trollers think it's a good use of time to argue about politics on every news article. I don't understand what the Westminster Dog Show has to do with what's going on in the Middle East. At the end of the day, you've accomplished what, exactly?
- The fact that Sandy grew up right outside of Pittsburgh and she doesn't care about the Steelers or Penguins one iota, I grew up just outside of Philadelphia and was raised (and still am) a die-hard Phillies fan, yet we're so excited for the Pirates' home opener we both took the day off from work to go.
- Why every Jack Johnson song sounds the same but is yet so good,
- Any math problem more complicated than "3x + 1 = 7."

And I guess I don't get these Trader Joe-San Green Beans either.

Don't make the mistake of thinking these are some sort of fresh vegetable product. The fact they're in the snack aisle should be a pretty good clue that they aren't. They certainly resemble green beans in appearance (except they're lightly dusted with some indiscernible junk), and they taste a fair amount like a green bean (again, except for whatever they coat these guys with, it's not salt). But the end product just isn't so good. Take a good hearty crunch to taste for yourself.

I'm not too texture-adverse when it comes to most foods, but these kinda weird me out. The only kind of parallel I can think of is, imagine sitting down, getting to ready to eat something that resembles a delectable-looking ribeye, only when you take a bite it tastes like steak but is made of Jello. They're that disorienting for me. Green beans are supposed to be firm yet a little soft, a little juicy, fleshy, and just good. They certainly aren't supposed to mummified, crispy shells of themselves like these are. To get them this way, apparently they get fried up in canola oil ... I don't really get how it works. Some of them seem to be fried up a little differently than others, so when you bite down, they can seem a little sandy or quartzy on the inside, which is not good at all. Others seem to not be fried as much, so the insides seem lighter and crisper, which make them semi-passable. But overall, they're inconsistent and discombobulating to my palate, and really don't seem to be a viable snack option on a regular basis to me.

Sandy doesn't like them all that much either, though the texture thing doesn't seem to bother her as much, which if you know her, that's an amazing statement to make. It's more the taste that gets to her - "I've had better," she said. "I don't know how to say it, except the other ones had more flavor." I'm presuming that means some saltiness to them, which these pretty much lack. I really can't figure out what the semi-greasy semi-dusty coating they put is supposed to add to the flavor. Anyways, Sandy gives them a two, and she has a little more faith in them than I do, because I can't justify giving them more than a one. I'd be surprised if we pick them up again.

Bottom line: 3 out of 10

The Long Awaited WGATJ's Reader Contest!

Hello fellow Trader Joe's aficionados,

It's been a great week here for the blog, started off by our nice little write-up by the good folks at The Daily Meal, which has been picked up by other blogosphere outlets like Oregon Live. So, we figure it's time to give a little somethin' somethin' back to you all, who help make such a thing possible. So without further ado, we are proud to announce:

The WGATJ's first ever reader contest! (please, hold your applause 'til the end)

The prize: $10 Trader Joe's gift card to tickle your taste buds and bring peace to your soul. Or least a full belly.

The rules: Okay, this is virgin territory for us, so we're going to keep them simple:

1. Like our Facebook page, follow our Twitter account, or just follow us on the Blogger page, and you get an entry. So chances are, you already have a chance.

2. Comment on or like one of our reviews via Facebook ... another entry. Same thing for the blog main page if you leave a comment there.

3. Put up our link about us/tag us on Facebook or Twitter gets you another entry. If you have a blog, put our link up there. Drop me (Russ) a message with "Reader Contest" in the subject line when you do just to make sure we see it. Each time you do, another entry.

4. Make me homemade cookies using only Trader Joe's products: 10,000 entries.*

5. Finally, no way to really quantify this, but if you know any other TJ's fans who would like our blog, invite them to follow us through whatever means. This will help make more contests like this possible in the future.

This contest will run for the next two weeks, up through Saturday, March 5th. We don't quite have the budget to resurrect Ed McMahon to drive up with a huge check for you, but once we pull the winner's name, we'll announce it and follow up with you to mail it out to you.

Sound good? Alright then ... ready, set, GO!!
__________________________________________________

*Not an actual contest rule, though if you made me cookies, that'd be pretty cool.

Trader Joe's Spicy Chai Latte

I've never done Tai Chi, but I've had my share of Chai Tea.

I'm aware that joke isn't original. I can't remember where I heard it or who said it, but I'm pretty sure I'm just copying someone else. Nonetheless, it shall stand as the opening line of this blog entry. Thanks for not calling me out on my unoriginality.

As I was saying, I have had plenty of Chai Tea in my time. In general, I really like it. Trader Joe's brand is no exception. In fact, for the cost of one Starbucks Chai Tea Latte, I can have about 10 or 12 from TJ's, and I like the taste at least as well. There aren't any weird colors or preservatives, and it comes with a convenient little measuring scoop that can be used with other products long after your TJ's latte is gone. It's like a happy little souvenir of your trip to Chai-land.

It's slightly spicy, slightly sweet. I could stand it just a tad sweeter (but I probably shouldn't have it that way...there's diabetes on both sides of my family). I really do like it just the way it is. Sonia likes it even more than I do. It's everything a good chai should be. $3 a can. Serve it chilled for an iced chai latte.

Rock on, Trader Joe. Yet another winner. 4.5 stars from Sonia, 4 stars from me. Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Trader Potato Tots

Xerox. Kleenex. Scotch Tape. These are all pretty commonly known, pretty commonly used terms we use that are actually trademarked brand names. Like, somebody asks you for a Kleenex, and you know to pass them a tissue, whether it's that brand name or not.

But tater tots?

Excuse me, I mean Tater Tots™.

Yes, Ore-Ida actually trademarked the term Tater Tots™ to refer to those little, crispy, semi-greasy, hot, salty, irresistible cylindrical logs of tasty, potatoey goodness known by any good red-white-and-blue-blooded kid ever subjected to cafeteria food in the past fifty years. And to most adults, too. I have yet to find anyone who doesn't like a good, heaping serving of tots, and if I were to find someone, I'd assume they either grew up in a cave on the moon or were a Cyborg. Most likely, both.

Anyways, that trademarking thing is a little unfair sometimes, I think. For instance, Trader Joe's wants to make Tater Tots™, and can't call them that for legal reasons, although they are universally colloquially known as such in the parlance of our times. So they have to come up with another name and the best they can do is "Trader Potato Tots." Yeah, try saying that five times fast (it's even tougher with your mouth full of them). So many things wrong with that name. I mean, what else would you make a tot out of that would lead you to specify it was made from a potato? I've never heard of a broccoli tot or kumquat tot or carrot tot or anything like that. I'm fine with "tater tot" because it's natural and easy to say; "potato tot" is not. And do I want to know what a "trader potato" is? For some reason that conjures up the image of a potato made out of tofu to me, which I don't think is possible (and may be more technically a "traitor potato"), which just isn't right. Don't mess with the goodness of a potato, especially in one of its finest incarnations as a tot. The best alternative for a name I can think of is Trader Tots, though I'm a pharmacy technician and not a trademark lawyer, so I don't know if that's consider too closely named to Tater Tots™.

Anyways, forget all that and let's start chomping. And chomping. And (I wish) more chomping. Needless to say, Sandy and I love these. We usually bake them up (if we had a deep fryer, we'd deep fry everything, even bacon) and plow them down as soon as they're cool enough to bite on down. They seem pretty much unsalted, so sometimes we sprinkle some on, or douse them with a little hot sauce. Sometimes, we just grab them by the handful and mash them on down the trachea. That's usually the nights we make them after going to the gym. The only thing semi-negative thing about them is, Sandy and I have been trying to watch what we eat, and we figure portion control is a good thing, so we try to eat only one serving of whatever we eat. According to the nutrition label, one serving of these guys is only ten tots! Find me anyone, other than my wife and a crotchety, stingy blue-haired cafeteria lady, who thinks eating only ten tots is a good idea. Impossible. If Trader Joe said I could eat more on the label, then I would be allowed. Sigh. On the plus side, you get a two pound bag for only about $2, which at our consumption rate makes them last a while, though certainly not by my choice.

I'm not describing much about what they taste like, because imagine an ideal, good, tasty tot, and yup, that what these taste like. Tots are a classic taste that's so comforting, so good, and honestly, so hard to mess up. Kinda like meatloaf in that regard, though I've had bad meatloaf (never yours, Mom or Megan), and have never ever had a bad tot. So our ranking reflects more of our general feeling towards tater tots .... which is total love. Five from the Mrs and you can take five from me ... uh, Sandy, I'm talking about Golden Spoons, you cannot take half of my allotted tots, you give those back right now! Sandy!!!!!

Bottom line: 10 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Old-Fashioned Donut O's

I don't know if donut holes came in molded plastic containers like this one back in the olden days, but the ingredients list for these little guys is certainly a throwback to the days that pre-date hydrogenated oils, high-fructose corn syrup, and other deadly garbage...there are a few strange chemical type words farther down on the list, but the main ingredients are all simple things I recognize.

In fact, the main sweetening ingredient is grape juice. It's an interesting choice for a pastry, but it works. I was a bit wary at first because of the grape juice, and because the front of the package declares that the batter is made from sour cream. Again, an enigmatic choice for a donut hole ingredient.

When I first looked at these donut o's, all covered in powdered sugar, I thought they resembled Munchkins from Dunkin Donuts. So my habit-driven brain primed my tongue for the sweet, familiar taste of a Munchkin. Initially, I was disappointed.

But after walking away from the donut o's for an hour or two, I realized that what I had tasted was something both classically delicious and brand new. Trader Joe's made no attempt to copy the taste of Dunkin Donuts or Entenmann's or Krispy Kreme. They aimed for sophisticated palates and created something inspired by the bakeries of yore. They made a simple, subtle dessert delicacy, the likes of which I have seldom had the opportunity to enjoy.

I went back for more, and so did Sonia. We polished off the box in a little over a day. If you're wondering, they do NOT taste like sour cream, or grape juice, or any common donut. They have a unique flavor that's difficult to describe, and an incredible texture that would rival many fresh-baked pastries. They're relatively low calorie and low fat.

If you really want a sugary-sweet, lard-laden donut, go to Dunkin. If you want to try something different, definitely check these out. Sonia rates them a 4.5 out of 5. I agree. 

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Kettle Brewed Green & White Tea

Imagine you're in a bonny wood listening to a sappy balladeer named Green Tea play a bad folk song on an out-of-tune guitar. Then in the middle of his song, a lithe male acrobat in a spandex onesie, White Tea, springs into action, doing gymnastics in front of the musician. And finally, amidst the music and the acrobatics, imagine an angry, minty leprechaun running out from behind a nearby tree, heading straight for you, jumping way up in the air and kicking you in the teeth.

Drinking this beverage is a similar experience, except not as bold...well, the mint part is that bold, but nothing else.

It needs some sugar. Or honey. Or Stevia. Or even corn syrup, but for heaven's sake, TJ's, don't leave it the way it is, please.

I can drink some other green teas without sweetener. But this product doesn't really have a green tea flavor...it's just that minty aftertaste that lingers like the hurt from a bloody lip.

Sonia generously gave it a 3 out of 5. I'm not sure why. When I asked her if she would ever buy it again, she quickly replied "NO!"

I give it a 2. Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Lowfat Yogurt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trader Joe's Chile Lime Chicken Burgers

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

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

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

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

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.