Trader Joe's Speculoos Cookie Butter Ice Cream

What hath Trader Joe's wrought?

Cookie butter ice cream...is a thing. I repeat: there exists at Trader Joe's a product which is both speculoos cookie butter...and ice cream.

Now I can die a happy man. A morbidly obese, yet happy man. It has a vanilla-esque base and it's full of speculoos cookie flavor. There are big globs of actual cookie butter throughout it. I couldn't figure out if it was the smooth variety or the crunchy. It strikes me as being somewhere in between the two, perhaps, but no...it's actually probably original. It's just firmer than usual because it's cold. Does it really matter? They make cookie butter ice cream. I repeat: the product in these pictures is real...and it's speculoos cookie butter flavored ice cream.

What's next in TJ's diabolical plan? Cookie and Cocoa Swirl Ice Cream? Slap the words "cookie butter" on a Trader Joe's product, and you pretty much have a big winner every time...with maybe one exception so far. I started shaking when I heard the news. Sonia and I started calling all the TJ's in our region to see who had it in stock. As I mentioned in my last post, Sonia and I just moved. And thanks to the customer service wizards at Comcast, we were without internet for a few days. A big thanks to Russ for holding down the fort during our transition. We're still buried beneath boxes and swamped with address changes, phone calls to realtors, and new utility accounts, but the magic of the interwebs floweth once more to bring you good tidings of great cookie butter.

This ice cream is on par with the discontinued classic Lemon Triple Gingersnap Ice Cream—and maybe even exceeds it in some ways. It's a legend, in every way fit for the halls of the Pantheon. It really actually honestly seriously tastes just like the original cookie butter, and it blends perfectly with the sweet ice cream surrounding it. Sonia says it could use just a bit more in that gingersnappy, cinnamony department. And I agree, it does err on the side of sweet, rather than spicy, but I think it works. I think the flavor is perfect. If a madman held a gun to my head and forced me to make a complaint about this product, I'd simply ask for larger globs of cookie butter in the mix. But until that hypothetical lunatic starts waving his Glock in my direction, I'm sticking with my story that this is a near-perfect product that just needed to be here on Earth right now...even in light of its $5 price tag. From the bottom of my heart, Trader Joe, thank you for making Cookie Butter Ice Cream. I give it a perfect 5. Sonia gives it four and a half.

Bottom line: 9.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Zesty Southwestern Style Stuffed Chicken Breasts

"The pig is an amazing animal. You feed a pig an apple, it makes bacon. The pig is turning an apple - essentially garbage - into bacon! That's magic! Or the most successful recycling program ever!"

That's not the joke about pigs and apples from comedic genius Jim Gaffigan I had in mind while sitting down to write this review; however, Google failed me. He once threw out a line about feeling bad for the pigs at a pig roast, because one minute they're happily eating an apple, next minute they're up on the spit, apple still there. With that second joke in mind, I took one look at Trader Joe's Zesty Southwestern Style Stuffed Chicken Breasts - must've been an interesting though perhaps tragic nacho night at the chicken coop.

There's a lot of good stuff going on here. In the case of our package (which Sandy referred to as a "meat splurge", given the price tag and rarity we buy things like this) there were two pretty good sized chicken chunks, one a little bigger than the other. The two of us and our semi-meat-adverse toddler probably could've split a single breast and been reasonably satiated, but we were both pretty hungry, and our kiddo actually ate her fair share, too, in an upset. Everywhere you look, there's corn tortilla chip shards - literally everywhere, covering the breasts liberally, some stuffed inside, excess ones spilling out of the package everywhere. Mix in some nacho cheddar cheese chunks (which oddly melted inside the chicken but not outside - what kind of sorcery is that?) and peppers (presumably poblano) and a couple oddly placed black olive slices, and it's pretty nacho-licious. I kinda wish the chips got a lot a little more crispy while baking - some did, while others remained a little soggy, perhaps understandably. In all, these plucky pollo fellas made a very hearty, filling dinner almost entirely by themselves.

Still, there's a little something missing. Hmmm...let's start with the ingredients and nutritional info, shall we? I know packaged meat doesn't always carry all that info, but with all the added ingredients, it sure would've been nice. There was no such sticker on our package, not even on the reverse side of the main label (I checked). Not sure if that was a QC misfire or the norm; regardless, I can't provide a snapshot of ingredients and nutrition like we normally do. Also, while I'd call the chicken "flavorful" and "tasty," I would not use "zesty" to describe it. There's no real spice. I've had bell peppers with more wallop than the pale green hombres in here. Prior to sticking in the oven, I *thought* I saw something like a light salsa glaze thru the chippy coating on the chicken, and while the chicken was lightly marinated in something, it wasn't that, nor was it overly apparent or stuck out. As much of a cliche as it is at this point, a little chipotle action, or some included salsa, or a little extra spice akin to previous southwestern-inspired offerings would have been a real bonus.

Not going to quibble too much though. One could reasonably expect to pay at least $11 or $12 at a restaurant for one something similar to one of these breasts and a side or two, so $5.99 a pound strikes me as a decent value. In all likelihood, we'll purchase again but will have to keep in mind adding a little something extra to kick it up a notch. Sandy enjoyed it all, except the peppers - she and cooked veggies have a strained relationship at best, so that's not too surprising nor is it a poor reflection. In her book, these merit a 3.5, while I come in a notch lower.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Zesty Southwestern Style Stuffed Chicken Breasts: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Peanutters

It's not exactly rocket surgery, but I think I figured out, finally, the allure of smaller, mini foods that used to kinda be weird to me. Naturally, allow me to illustrate with a short story. A couple years ago, Sandy and I were on vacation up to Boston and Maine, and were heading towards my grandparents' cabin for a couple days of peace and quiet when we decided to stop at Tim Horton's for a big box of Timbits to bring with us for nibbling for a few days. Great plan...except the lady in front of us bought every single last one in the store, leaving us to buy regular sized doughnuts instead. Eating a few gobfulls of donut holes over a couple days? Not a problem. Eating a half dozen full sized donuts though? That seems...so gluttonous. It's perception. Plus people with this "self control" thing I keep hearing about can enjoy a small bite too.

And right now you're probably saying "Duh." Well, thanks for waiting for me.

It comes to mind for Trader Joe's Peanutters because they're teeny little cookies that, if full sized, would probably seem to be an overly decadent treat. Kinda like Little Mac, they pack a lot of punch for such a small guy. Unlike most peanut butter cookies that come to mind, each cookie is light, crispy and crumbly upon first bite, practically melting in your mouth. While the peanut bits more or less meld in without much notice, once the teeth hit some peanut butter chips, it's a smooth, silky, effortless glide that feels so right. It's like magic...with peanut butter! Equally as impressive is the amount of yumminess packed in - these nutty buddies taste just like how I'd imagine cookie-fied PB that's slightly on the chunky side. Perfect with milk, too, of course, and Sandy mentioned she'd love to make a pie shell out of them, a la Nilla Wafer style. For a little extra special treat, eating these with a little of your favorite jam or some dark chocolate...the words have not yet been invented, but man, that'd be goooood. 

I can't think of a single complaint, except once I have one, I have to try very, very hard to stop. "In control," I have to say....with about as much success. If they were bigger (each is bite sized) stopping after just one would be so much easier, but with them being so small, I can eat ten and barely notice - that's no good. Last thing I need is another trigger food, but that's on me, not the cookies. . Sandy's in love with both the taste and the texture, as am I. A package runs about $3 or $4, and it's well spent, as long as you don't mind the probably rapid disappearance of your investment.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Peanutters: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

  

Trader Joe's Zucchini Fries

Zucchini is one of the few things my dad was actually able to grow in the garden in our backyard when I was a kid. I think he managed to salvage a few tomatoes from the ravenous squirrels and rabbits as well, but as I've mentioned before, I've never been a fan of actual tomatoes, despite a paradoxical affinity for all tomato derivatives. Similarly, since raw zucchini is kinda nasty, he'd pan-fry a homegrown specimen or two from time to time, and it always surprised me how good it tasted. Now that Sonia and I have our own big backyard, we'll undoubtedly have our own garden here too, appropriately, in the Garden State. (Au revoir, Media, PA, TJ's. Hello Marlton, NJ, TJ's!) Can't wait to (attempt to) grow our own zucchini and fry them like my old man used to.

These zucchini fries from TJ's are good too, but there are a few key differences from those home-fried zucs I remember all those years ago. First, there's a noticeable coating of batter on these fries. It's apparently made of cornmeal and wheat flour. It's good. It's a nice touch. There's not too much and not too little. Secondly, the pieces of zucchini are completely inconsistent. Some of them are small, some of them are big, and some of them are really just globs of empty batter. And thirdly, due to the inconsistent sizes, it's really hard to cook the entire bag to perfection all at once. The little pieces cook faster and wind up a little charred. The big pieces wind up undercooked and a bit juicy on the inside. It's not a terrible thing, especially if you're one of those "variety is the spice of life" types. You get some crispy critters, similar to the texture of traditional fries, and you get some moist, squishy fries—which have a lot more real zucchini flavor.

Another oddity about these fellows was the absence of a sauce. The bag mentioned something about "serving them with your favorite sauce." Hmmm... I don't think they mean chocolate sauce. Can we have a hint, Trader Joe? Ketchup? Because I don't think that would work either. Fortunately for you readers, I looked up the product on TJ's own site, and they did throw us a bone and suggest sriracha or tzaziki as dipping options there. We actually had tzaziki and sriracha on hand when we ate these. I certainly wish I had known to try it with them at the time. I think that might have sealed the deal and put these puppies in the Pantheon had they included their own sriracha and/or tzaziki. But they're still really darn good as they are.

Having never tried fried zucchini before, Sonia was pretty enthusiastic about this dish. She gave it 4 stars. I'm going to go with 3.5. Let this blog post serve as a petition to TJ's to include a sauce in ver. 2.0.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 4 Kouigns Amann

Somewhere in the depths of our vaults, I've written about (or at least alluded to) Saturday mornings. Best morning of the week, by far. More times than not, there's at least an opportunity to sleep in a little, wake up, make some good coffee in the French press, and actually have a chance to sit down, relax, and enjoy it with my lovely wife Sandy. Granted, the rest of the day might be filled with errands and odds and ends, but usually those are on our terms, not The Man's. A nice, peaceful, relaxing morning was exactly what we had this past Saturday - heck, even our toddler slept in til about 9:30, as did we.

Wish I could say Trader Joe's 4 Kouigns Amann really added something a little extra special. Breakfast is almost always my favorite meal of the day, and I felt a break would be good from the normal eggs/toast/breakfast meat/fruit routine. I've heard these pastries are a pretty decadent treat, and we've had wonderful success with another proof-and-bake treat in the past, giving me high, high hopes.

Alas, not to be. I think I've narrowed it down. First, the proofing process went a little askew. Think of each amann as a dough square, with the corners folded in so there's an X on top of the square. While rising overnight (a little longer than the six to seven hour range noted, but it still "overnight"), the corners on two of the amanns unfurled, making it a flat rhombus that laid bare all the sugary delectability lurking in what should have been the doughy depths. The other two (which I did not mean to make but was forced to when I left them in the box on the counter overnight by mistake - hey, I worked til midnight, gimme a break) kept much better form.

Secondly, the directions state to bake for about 25 minutes, or "until quite dark. Do not underbake." I went for the "quite dark" mark, which wasn't far past the 25 minutes, but apparently it was just enough that the caramelized nether-regions got burnt and more or less unappealing. The amanns that were accidentally left in the box fared much better in this regard, but still...I'm just not completely impressed by them. At their bests, the outsides got crispy and buttery, the insides soft, melty and sugary, and the bottom hittimg of some caramel undertones, but kinda missed a little je ne sais quoi to really put them over the top or make them memorable. And much of what we ate was fall short of this standard, unfortunately, and I'm not sure all the blame falls on us.

Both Sandy and I feel kinda indifferent about them, with perhaps a little disappointment and regret. I mean, if you're gonna start your day with 13-gram-saturated-fat bombshell straight to the coronary pipework, it oughtta be for something more than a blasé bite, right? I'd say this is a doubtful repurchase for the $4 or so. We'll be slightly generous, though, and go with a two each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 4 Kouigns Amann: 4 out of 10 Golden Spoons 

Trader Joe's Lamb Koftas

"Kofta." Now that's a cool word. I've never heard it until stumbling across Trader Joe's Lamb Koftas on my latest trip. Basically, a kofta is a Middle Eastern/Indian/ Mediterranean meatball, with different variations from different regions. Sounds good, and I was interested.  My wife Sandy, though? My goodness. She's not usually not one to get too excited about most meats - she's on record on saying she'd be vegetarian if she only liked vegetables more, and I've seen her be indifferent towards bacon, of all things - but lamb anything she's all over it. "I've just never have had any bad lamb," she explains. Granted, me neither, but most of my exposure to the gastronomics of the wooliest of farm mammals has been limited to gyros at Greek food festivals and an occasional dish here or there from either TJ's or occasionally out. I recall us making lamb roast a year or two ago for Easter, and being relatively unimpressed but not overly dismayed by it. Regardless, since I said before we go in it was her turn to find something tasty for dinner, once these koftas were spotted, there was no question what was going on my dinner plate that night.

Like most of TJ's Indian-inspired dishes, the real highlight to me was the masala sauce. It comes frozen in a side packet that you swish the meatballs around in once they're heated up. It was so good - a little heat, a little creamy, but so much flavor - I think I got a hot dog bun out to grab every last drop I could. If you've had their masala sauce on other dishes before, you know what I'm talking about. It's gooooooooood. I think I could put it on anything.

As for the lamby balls themselves...to me, eh. Without the masala, they tasted like a meatier-but-still-tender sphere of gyro. That's not a bad thing, but it was kind of unexciting in of itself. Heating them was a cinch - a couple minutes on the stove top while steaming in a little water was all they really needed. Other times we've gotten frozen meatballs, I've had to cut them in half mid-cooking so the insides would thaw to a less than rock-solid state without blackening the outside. No such issue here. Neglected to take a picture of the finished product, but each kofta was a couple bites each, with ten in the package (so about 50 cents each), so it seemed like a decent value to me.

Sandy, though? Score this as another big winner for her, enough that she unequivocally gave them a perfect five. For me, I'm not as impressed, but when (not if, "when") these come back to my place for dinner again, I won't be disappointed. Sandy gets some more lamb, I get some more sauce, and we're both pretty darn happy then. Definitely a winner dinner.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Lamb Koftas: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers

As a general rule, I don't write about (or even mention) my daughter much on here, but today, perhaps in honor of her recent second birthday, I am. You see...I love my girl to pieces, and I love spending as much time as I can with her. I find myself constantly learning how to enjoy her and my time with her, no matter her mood, how my day otherwise went, or what we're doing. Sometimes, it's the big fun family trips, like our recent overnighter to Ohio for a Reds/Pirates game and Columbus Zoo visit. Her highlight? Jumping on the bed at the hotel we stayed at in northern Kentucky (or as she calls it, "Kucky!!!"). Other times, it's the smaller, fun outings, like going to the pool or out for ice cream here (her favorite flavor of ice cream? "Blue."). Or, more times than not, it's the small, simple, everyday stuff that I just try to soak up. I love coming home after a nine or ten hour workday and snatching her up as she smiles (provided that she'll willingly part from an episode of Peppa Pig, of course) then going out to the kitchen and making dinner with her "help" and company as Sandy gets a few minutes to herself to recharge her batteries (seriously, she's tough, but everyone needs a breather). It's so much fun to be with her, talk about her day some, goof off, sing songs, do whatever...it all reminds of why I do what I do, all day every day. Then, of course, it's bath time, then jammie time, then brushing teeth and reading books and looking at pictures before I sing her to sleep - these days, I have to sing both "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" and "Come Thou Fount" as I snuggle her in for the night. I hope that somehow, some way, she'll remember all those small moments, and that'll they mean as much to her as they do to me.

What does all this have to do with Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers? Besides the "cheese" factor, of course. Well, sometimes while whisking away to make dinner, or getting to sit down and be still, or to tide her over at a ballgame or in her stroller, like any toddler she needs a snack or she will be NOT HAPPY and will let you know. These cheesy crackers have been a key find recently to combat her little hunger monster on the go.

Truth be told, I can munch on these, and not notice much of a difference between the TJ's brand and a brand like Ritz. There's not anything fancy - generic, kinda fake cheese (you know the type) sandwiched between two crackers.  At least these are organic, so presumably a tad healthier, although I look at the fat, salt and calories and kinda wonder. Good thing my daughter is on the smaller side and eats a reasonably healthy and balanced diet, so I don't feel too too guilty about it. I mean, she loves peas, for goodness sake. About the only difference I can discern is perhaps the crackers are a slight bit heftier than Ritz's, but that could be me trying too hard and making things up in an effort to try to draw at least a small distinction. Crackers are crispy, buttery, and fairly light, the "cheese" is a salty, gritty variant of creamy, and they're easily twistable so if you (or your toddler) wants to rip apart, lick cheese off one cracker, then devour both dime-dimensioned discs like some diabolical snacker cracker monster, go right ahead.

For two-ish bucks, not a bad pickup. No offense to my beautiful wife, but I'm skipping her opinion this time and going straight to the expert: my two year old. I explained the concept of Golden Spoons to her and was met with blank stares. Then I asked her if the crackers were "yucky" or "yummy." "Yucky!" she exclaimed. I then pointed out the two fistfuls she was holding, with crumbs down her front and smeared around her mouth and asked her if she was sure. "Hummmmm....yummy!" she then squealed. Glad to get that cleared up. There's also, naturally, a peanut butter version which we haven't tried yet but will probably soon as our next trip - I thank God every day she has no PB allergies, because I love me some peanut butter. Seeing as though these snacks make up two of her favorite things - cheese and crackers - when she eventually told me a five for these guys, I'll believe her. If they only had baseball, ice cream and fireworks involved for her...I'm going with a 3.5 myself.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Mini Cheese Sandwich Crackers: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Jacques' Shells with Brie and Asparagus

I'm not going to sit here and brag about how open-minded I am about new foods, because I've already done that plenty of times before on this blog. But I feel I must set that precedent before I say something controversial like, "I don't like anything with blue cheese" because otherwise people assume I'm a lame, close-minded 'Murican who only eats hamburgers and freedom fries. Sonia doesn't like blue cheese either. Do you know what the blue stuff is? It's mold. Aside from having a nasty mold allergy, I mean, that's just gross. If we were meant to eat mold, many of us here on the soggy east coast would have a never-ending food supply in our basements and crawl spaces. But no, we do what we can to get rid of that mold. We banish it. We send it back to the dark recesses of whatever sinister realm from whence it came. We don't eat it. But somehow if there's cheese surrounding it, it magically becomes ok. I don't get it.

You know what else I usually don't like? Brie. Now here's where Sonia and I differ. She loves it in all its glorious forms and in almost any context. Most people I know like brie. They gather around the hors d'oeuvres table to sing its praises at fancy shindigs and they stop talking to me when they find out I don't like it that much. Now why, you ask, would I buy a product that so prominently features brie if I'm not an avid fan? Honestly, I was thinking of my wife. On certain uncommon occasions, I am able to remove my head from my posterior and have thoughts that center around someone other than myself. That's what happened here I think. That, and sometimes I like to try things that I didn't like in the past just to see if my taste buds have changed or if my initial assessment may have been inaccurate.

So far, I have only had brie that sat well with my palate once: this TJ's dish. And I think that's because it was melted. I'm not saying I would have minded if it were mozzarella or cheddar or something less exotic, but brie worked here. It was amazingly creamy. And flavor-wise, brie goes really well with asparagus, apparently. And I've always liked asparagus. Who knew they worked well together?

The "conchiglie" pasta was fairly run-of-the-mill shells, but perhaps a bit on the larger side. The texture of the asparagus was excellent. Not stringy at all. Although, I must point out that we cooked this dish on the stove top, not in the microwave as indicated by the heating instructions. Our power was out during one of those freak storms we had last week so we decided to heat up some of the perishables before they got too thawed. I figured out that the ignition doesn't work on our stove top when the power is out, but we still get gas, so I have to turn on the gas and then ignite it with a lighter. I usually draw out a bit too much gas and lose a few eyelashes and a portion of my goatee in the process. But hey, with great risk comes great reward.

Sonia wishes this product came in a larger size. She gives it 4 stars. I liked it, but I'm still not a "brie guy" yet. So 3.5 stars from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars

It's a pretty well established fact by now that the checkout displays at Trader Joe's sometimes giveth and sometimes taketh away. Generally, by that I mean they giveth something yummy for me to eat while they taketh my dollars. There's been a few tremendous finds, some fun combos, and very few duds. Nutritional value is occasionally very debatable at best.

But...what if something there could be healthy and taste good?

It was upon the checkout lane that I first discovered Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars. Usually, they're nestled in some nether regions above frozen Asian food and below much flashier-looking cookies that I'd never really seen them around until they were a featured item. Indeed, I had to look around for a couple minutes to find them once more even after being told exactly where they were by an employee. Maybe if they wore a red-and-white beanie, goofy glasses, and a striped shirt they'd be easier to spot when only at their normal home.

Tell ya what: Regardless of where displayed, these almond bars should not be overlooked. They're that good. Each bar isn't that big - about an ounce, a little more than an inch wide, maybe three inches long, half an inch thick, maybe - but they pack a lot. Each bite is soft and inviting, yet chewy but still crumbly, with some seeds randomly interspersed that make the bars pretty fun to munch on. Indeed, I had to chomp on these a bit more than I usually chew my food. For taste, they're like an amazing hybrid between pumpkin pie and my grandmother's molasses cookies, even though there's no molasses in them. Must be the cinnamon and cloves, which really shine through. Each respective seed - flax, poppy, sunflower, sesame and pumpkin - adds even more flavor to the subtly nutty base. And yes, there's a fair amount of sugar, although it sure doesn't taste like it - these are more geared for grown-ups and not kids, it seems. Not a bad thing. If you're a morning yogurt person, I'd imagine some yogurt with a bar crumbled on top would be a fairly tasty treat.

Both Sandy and I are fans. They're soft, delicious, and surprisingly filling. One of these, an apple, and some coffee, and I'm set til lunch. As an added bonus the almond bars are pretty decently priced ($3.99 for a package of 8) and pack more nutrition than a regular ol' granola bar. It's just a good, honest bite that's pretty close to perfect for a busy, on-the-go day. Sandy gives them a four, I counter with a 4.5,

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Five Seed Almond Bars: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Spicy, Smoky, Peach Salsa

Neither spicy nor smoky in my humble opinion, this peach salsa doesn't live up to its name particularly well. But had its label proudly declared something about being "chunky" or "addictive," I'd go ahead and say, "mission accomplished."

The taste is great, especially if you like peaches. This salsa is full of huge chunks of actual fruit, plus tomatoes, peppers, and other more traditional salsa ingredients. The spice level is barely perceivable, with just the slightest hint of tongue-tingling heat creeping through the sweet peach and tangy tomato juices. And quite frankly, I was hoping there wasn't much in the way of "smokiness," because even just a little too much in that department is enough to make you feel like you're snacking on ashes. Fortunately, there's even less than I was expecting.

I'm a relative newcomer to the world of sweet salsas. For a long time, the idea of sweet fruit mixed with tomato sauce just weirded me out. Kinda like Hawaiian pizza—which I'm now a huge fan of. But so far Trader Joe's has offered us at least one other mostly successful sweet salsa, which we reviewed just last month. In the past, we saw Russ and Sandy muse over the strangely sweet Tomato-less Salsa, which Sonia and I tried shortly thereafter. Both houses were divided on that product: thumbs down from Russ, thumbs up from Sandy; thumbs down from Sonia, thumbs up from me.

I do have to mention at this point that two of the best sweet salsas I've ever had came from Target, surprisingly enough. And while this peach salsa and the aforementioned pineapple salsa are both great offerings from TJ's, they simply aren't quite as impressive as the Archer Farms Summer Fruits Salsa that I've come to adore. If given the choice between TJ's pineapple salsa and this, I think I'd take the pineapple since it's just a tad sweeter and its label makes no misleading claims about smokiness or spiciness, although I must say Sonia and I polished off this tiny jar in a single sitting—so there's plenty of good things going for this salsa. It has a great balance of sweet and savory flavors, it's extremely chunktastic, it goes well with white corn tortilla chips, and it's reasonably priced at $2.29. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad

Another day, another dollar. Another day of uninspiring leftovers in a sparsely-filled refrigerator (we keep low stock when we're out of town often like we have been). Another day of TPS reports at the cubicle farm. Another day of being too cheap to order delivery from the cruddy area Chinese restaurants. So, to liven things up a bit...yep, another early morning TJ's run to try another salad and figure out if it's lunch-rotation worthy or not. Yeeeeeeeeehaw.

In the line-up this week: Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad. Now that's a mouthful of a name. Know what there's not a mouthful of? The chicken. Okay, there's probably technically a literal full mouth's worth of grilled chicken strips, but once again, the infamous TJ chicken cheater strikes again. One respectable sized strip and few small munches (maybe adding up to another respectable sized strip) just isn't enough, no matter how tasty it is....which is too bad, because it is pretty darn good poultry.

Fresh, firm, gently spiced with some five spice (definite emphasis on the black pepper, but not offensively so) - it's some good bird. Too bad TJ's decided to flip a bird at us while doling it out.

Other than that, it's a decent enough bite. All the veggies  - cabbage, carrots, etc - kinda make a dry coleslaw to go on top the rice noodles. Now, I'm not sure if I'm just really used to fried rice noodles, or overly cooked wimpy ones, because to describe these noodles as al dente is a bit of an understatement. They can probably double as fiber optic replacement strands. That's not necessarily a bad thing just...unexpected. I doubt I've had noodles as firm and vigorous as these fellas before, and like about that thing my wife mentioned the over night, if I don't remember it, it doesn't count. The chili lime dressing isn't too exciting one way or another, and one of the nice things is, there's more than enough that if you don't use all of it, you can save yourself some fat and calories without sacrificing too terribly much. It does strike me as an odd choice for an Asian-inspired salad (something sesame seems more appropriate to me), but, well, what do I know?

Sandy had one of these too a few weeks back, and while she doesn't distinctly remember too many details about it, she did recall that she liked it enough to get it again sometime if the need/opportunity arises. That's worthy of a four for her. For me...for the $4.49 I spent on it, I could have instead opted for a grilled chicken salad here from the work cafe which would have probably three times as much chicken on it. But then I'd want to get fries and cookies which then defeats the whole purpose of a salad. Consider the price point a draw, then. I too would get again, but I'll probably keep scoping out the salad options - anybody got a solid suggestion? Comment below!

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Five Spice Chicken and Asian Style Rice Noodle Salad: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Apple + Banana and Apple + Mango Fruit Bars

This is the kind of product I'd like to see more of in the checkout zone at TJ's. They're far more healthy than treats like salted caramel or pb&j filled candy bars, and in my opinion they're way better tasting than chocolate covered jelly sticks. As I've mentioned before, we're coming to TJ's because we're pretending to be slightly more healthy than folks who shop at regular grocery stores. That whole philosophy comes unraveled if Big Joe tricks us into buying a basket full of chocolate bars before we leave the store.

But if Big Joe ensnares us with treats that look semi-indulgent, but are actually nothing but pressed fruit, well then, the guilt-factor disappears. I'm all for being tricked into eating healthier. And sometimes that's the only way I'll eat better. I mean, I realized there was fruit in these bars. But that's all there is. Similar to TJ's new cold pressed juices, there's nothing in these bars but fruit. But in this case, you only have to spend a buck to try the product. The apple banana bar has two ingredients: apples and bananas. The apple mango bar, likewise, has only two ingredients: apples and mangoes.

The bars are slightly chewy, and I think that's due to the fact that they're not too dry. They aren't the same as banana chips or dried apple slices. They're way more moist than either of those. But they're not dripping with juice like fresh fruit, either. They're really just bits of fruit bound together by their natural syrupy goodness. They're fairly filling for how small they are, probably due to the 2g-3g of natural fiber in them, although I certainly wouldn't have minded if they were a tad larger.

Flavor-wise, you can't expect much more than you'd expect from fresh fruit, although the juices of each ingredient do intertwine and commingle with one another, creating some interesting fruit-salad-esque taste combos not to be found in a lone piece of fresh fruit. I definitely liked the banana flavor slightly better than the mango flavor. I kept wishing the mango bar had chile powder on it. I guess I could have added it myself, but too much of it could have easily ruined the taste. Texture-wise, there were only very subtle differences between the two bars, and quite frankly, I don't even remember which bar we took a picture of to show texture. They both looked really similar. If I had to take a guess, I would say this is the mango bar in the photo. There were a couple of other flavors we haven't tried yet, so if you have any insights about those, please share in the comments below!

All in all, this is a TJ's checkout win. Sonia liked them even better than I did, giving them four stars each. I'm gonna go with four stars for banana and three and a half for mango.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Apple + Banana Fruit Bar: 8 out of 10.

                    Trader Joe's Apple + Mango Fruit Bar: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's 14 Shrimp Nuggets

Fourteen? That's what you're proud of and will advertise to the point of making it part of your product name? Fourteen? Really? Listen: that doesn't make much sense when it comes to Trader Joe's 14 Shrimp Nuggets. A flip to the backside and a quick glance at the nutritional label easily and readily shows why: a serving size is four nuggets, which is perfectly reasonable, but leaves me with a package of 3.5 servings if my third grade math isn't failing me now. With this, there are several options: a) Make whole box, eat seven nuggets, tell wife it's okay to eat seven nuggets. like I need any more help eating too much anyways. 2) Buy multiple boxes to even out serving sizes. Buying two wouldn't be enough - that leaves seven servings, an odd number (just me and the wife, the kiddo wouldn't touch these). I'd have to go buy four to make it even. It's this kind of serving shenanigans that was behind the whole hot dog/hot dog bun conundrum years back. Not cool. d) Buy one box, make eight, leaving six to split another night to eat alongside extremely mediocre Sam's Club frozen wings. Ladies and gentlemen, we went with option d. Here's an even better option: TJ's, throw two more nuggets in the box. Maybe "16" isn't as cool and trendy as "14" but we're adults here, let's be a little practical, shall we?

As far the shrimpy nuggets themselves: not bad at all. There's a lot of the greasy, fast-food-y type comfort food vibe going on here. Me gusta. As the name somewhat implies, these nuggets aren't a simple matter of breaded, battered shrimp. Instead, each nugget seems comprised of about two shrimp each, and as is most of TJ's shrimp, is reasonably fresh, decently firm, and definitely delicious like any good shrimp should be. And the batter is great: it crisps up nicely and evenly in the oven, and somehow, there's an almost buttermilk-y aspect to it. Not to go all Bubba on you, but TJ's has exceeded in giving us regular battered shrimp, shrimp on a stick, shrimp stirfry, heck, even shrimp in corn dog form before, so now they've mastered the nugget form.

That begs the question: how do they make the nuggets? Three words: Shrimp paste. Uggh. 

By this, I doubt they mean tiny glue sticks. Once I saw those words, it was like reading "Miley twerking" or seeing the new one-legged Speedo (Google image search at your own risk): immediate repulsion, and not something I could unsee or un-experience. I noticed there was a small amount of kinda slimey, kinda mealy, kinda salty, kinda shrimpy filler the first time we had these, but I didn't pay it much mind until I happened to read the description on the back while making the second batch a few nights later. It got cut off in my picture, but it absolutely says "bound together by shrimp paste." Uggh. When eating for the second time, all I could think was shrimppasteshrimppasteshrimppaste. Kinda ruined it for me, much like how a potentially delicious dessert got ruined for Nathan by a similar discovery. We're allowed our silly hang-ups, too.

  Regardless, Sandy seemed to really like them (see: greasy comfort food) and I enjoyed them enough the first time around, I suppose. Going forward I may just try to stick to regular battered shrimp, or whatever concoction TJ's comes up with next, like mini-shrimp enchiladas on a stick or whatever. Just hope it has an even number of servings and doesn't have any shrimp paste (uggh again!) in it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's 14 Shrimp Nuggets: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons  

Trader Joe's Vegetable Biryani

Up until Mr. Shelly's recent review of uttapam, it had been quite a while since we checked out any Indian food on this blog. So, to make up for lost time, here's a look at yet another Indian dish: Trader Joe's Vegetable Biryani. We saw it on the frozen section shelf, right next to the uttapam, and it looked too good to pass up. 

I've been to a handful of decent Indian restaurants, but I've never heard of biryani before I saw this dish. Maybe I just wasn't scouring the menu hard enough—I have a bad habit of sticking with my old standby's all the time: chicken tikka masala or some kind of tandoori. Although it often pays to venture outside of your comfort zone, you can never go wrong with the classics. So now my habit is to try the very inexpensive version of each new-to-me Indian dish at Trader Joe's, and then if it really wows me, I might dare order it when I'm out livin' large, spendin' G's at a fine dining establishment.

Note to self: order vegetable biryani next time you eat out at an Indian place.

Because this stuff is pretty awesome. For $2.49, we're looking at a dish that's in the same price range as a typical Lean Cuisine or Healthy Choice meal, with similar fat and caloric content, but with way more uniqueness, flavor, and satisfaction. This meal is super-filling—but not uncomfortably so. It's packed with beans, peas, basmati rice, and meatball-sized vegetable dumplings. The dumplings and rice have the perfect amount of flavorful Indian spices. Nothing's too dry, nothing's too hard. It even has plump raisins to give it a nice sweet zing. The textures and flavors blend together beautifully, and the veggie and bean content is hearty enough to make up for the lack of meat. This entree is vegetarian. Not sure why it's not vegan, but it doesn't have that happy little "V" on it like some other Indian products from Trader Joe's. I'll let you vegan peeps read through the ingredients and tell me why it's just "vegetarian."

This dish is special enough to garner double 4.5's from the Rodgers clan. We're fans. Unless you hate Indian for some strange reason, we can't imagine you won't like this. And for the price, there's not much lost if you don't.

Bottom line: 9 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Four Uttapam with Coconut Chutney

There's been a lot of back-and-forth out there in the wild webby west the past few weeks about the merits of a gluten-free diet for those who are not diagnosed celiac sufferers. I'm...not going to add much to that discussion, other to say that I know enough good, honest folks who go to great lengths to avoid gluten because of how they believe gluten affects them, so there's probably something to it that science (and the rest of us who don't deal with what those others do) may not fully understand as of yet. Can't find the link, but there was an interesting article in the Wall Street Journal last week that detailed how, in response to increased consumer demand over the past few years, many food manufacturers are now either focused on making gluten-free versions of products, while openly admitting they sacrifice nutritional quality for taste and texture. Yummm those extra calories!

Another tactic, and more pertinent to Trader Joe's Four Uttapam with Coconut Chutney, is many food that never contained gluten to begin with are now slapped with or marketed under being gluten free. For example, read this about Heinz Ketchup. Now, an average consumer may not know what an "uttapam" is (I sure didn't) but once the first two words of the little subheaded description are read ("rice breads")...well, that's a pretty significant hint it's gluten free. Rice is a pretty common substitute grain (with varying results), so unless so gluten would reach its wheaty tentacles in through some ultra-nefarious means, the "gluten free" at the top of the box is really as useful as a "cholesterol free" label on a box of Cheerios.

Enough about all that, let's talk uttapams. They're fun. They're funky. And Trader Joe's may have helped Columbus them, because I've never heard of them or had one, but now I'm kinda intrigued. If made from an authentic Indian recipe, as the box claims, that means the lentil/rice mixture that makes up these pancake-like yum-yums was fermented for a while. That's probably the case, as there's this lingering kinda sour/kinda sweet/kinda sharp/kinda acidic taste to the batter that's the base flavor. Not sure of the best words to adequately describe, but it sure was unexpected upon first bite. Texturally these uttapam seem to be a cross between mashed potatoes and pancakes, while the undersides of these cakes crisp up nicely when made in the frying pan. Can't imagine microwaving them as alternate directions suggest...ugh. The taste of the batter is balanced out nicely by a certain spiciness - it's not spicy in a hot, peppery way, but in a more herbaceous sense from the abundance of onion tidbits and cilantro choppings. And for a little added subtle sweetness, the coconut chutney up top helps bind the whole dish together. There's no taste that's too scarce or too prevalent - it's perfectly harmonious.

And for those out there who may want to try these out but no desire or capacity to have them four at a time - no fear! Not only do the uttapam (uttapams?) come in a resealable plastic baggie, but also the chutney comes frozen in two separate packets. Making two one night and the other two another night, like Sandy and I did, was a cinch, no creative repackaging needed. That's a nice touch.

If memory serves me right, these "Indian pizzas" (as they're sometimes referred to, apparently) were in the neighborhood of $3 for the box, and honestly, if I were to go out to an Indian restaurant, order some uttapam, and get something approximately like these, I'd be pretty happy. Let's be positive and say that means more about the overall quality of this product versus anything else. Both Sandy and I thoroughly enjoyed them and can see them as a great appetizer for any Indian-themed meal. Nicely done.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Four Uttapam with Coconut Chutney: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons   

Trader Joe's Yellow Cold Pressed Juice

During my seven years in Los Angeles, I lost a good bit of weight by drinking smoothies and juices. I frequented Jamba Juice, and when there wasn't one available, I settled for Robek's, Smoothie King, or Surf City Squeeze. Sure they have sugar. Sure they have fat. But with a vita-boost and a fiber-boost, they're more filling and more nutritious than most meals, and they completely curbed my appetite. And while we do have a JJ here in southeastern PA now at the King of Prussia Mall, it's just not really on my way to or from anything, and fighting my way through that mall parking lot every single day just to get a smoothie isn't really an option I'd put on the table. So I'm still searching for something to replace my old smoothie habit.

Unfortunately, this isn't it. This is just really expensive yellow juice. Don't get me wrong, it's natural, it's healthy, and it's 100% juice, but you've really gotta have a massive hankerin' for some yellow pepper juice to buy this product on a regular basis. And for me—this was about all the yellow pepper juice I'll ever need in my lifetime. I didn't just read about yellow pepper juice in the ingredients. I smelled it. I tasted it. It's there. It's there in a big way. It tastes like a juiced yellow bell pepper sweetened with pineapple juice. And that, my friends, is why I can't recommend this product to you wholeheartedly. That and the fact that 15oz. costs five bucks! Sure my Jamba smoothies were pricey, too—but those things were like a whole meal for me.

There's a bunch of pulp that settles on the bottom of each bottle. It's a "shake well" kinda situation. I guess that proves that an actual whole piece of fruit was used. I'm thinking that if you're really really into this type of product, that you should just buy your own fruits and veggies and juice them yourselves. Although, I must admit, I've tried juicing and I know it's a lot of work buying all that produce, cutting it, processing it, storing the unused portions properly, and then the worst part is cleaning the juicer—although I have heard many of the newer juicers magically clean themselves with the help of little elves that live inside the plastic base of the appliance. Plus, it's really not cheap buying boatloads of high-quality fresh fruit either. But I would think you'd get a bit more than 15 ounces for $5.

Whether Sonia was just caught up in all the Instagram hype over these juices or whether she really genuinely thought this thing was worth its price tag, I'm not entirely sure. She was happy with the taste—choosing to focus on the pineappliness instead of the pepperiness. She liked the pulpy texture, too, which I must admit wasn't bad. But you can get that texture in a traditional half gallon of country style OJ for a lot less money. 

There are also Red and Green versions of this pressed juice. We just might be crazy enough to try those, too, but feel free to leave your thoughts about them in the comment section below! 4 stars from Sonia. 2.5 from me.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.
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Trader Joe's Grand Slam

Veterans Stadium. Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Stade Olympique. (Old) Yankee Stadium. PNC Park. Jacobs/Progressive/whatever-its-called-these-days-in-Cleveland Field. Citizens Bank Park.  Fenway Park. Angel Stadium. Nationals Park. And, in a few weeks, Great American Ball Park.

Those, in rough chronological order, are the baseball stadiums I've been to. And yes, you're reading that right - I've been to a Montreal Expos home game. Can't do that anymore. No other place, except perhaps my grandparents' cabin, says summer to me like heading out to the ballpark to catch a game. Eventually I want to make my way to every park, except maybe that dreary prison (I didn't know you could move a stadium from Montreal to Tampa) or crazy neon funhouse down in Florida. I mean, seriously, ugh. Whatever. From catching the tail end of Mike Schmidt's career to seeing Mike Trout in the very early stages of his, all in person, there's little that beats a night at the ol' ballgame.

So, you need some snacks for that, right? Right. And if they not only keep kids happy but also go well with crappy, overpriced beer? Even better. That's why Cracker Jack is so popular. So, with venturing out with some Trader Joe's Grand Slam, TJ's is just maybe poking the bear a little. There's some classics, like Rollie Fingers' mustache, that you just don't mess with.

Let's see: a grand slam is the single best hit a baseball player can get, right? Well, this isn't Trader Joe's single best snack. It's okay - the popcorn itself is light and poofy with very little (if any) grungy kernally undercarriage. I firmly appreciate all of that. The rest....ehhh. At least in our bag, the caramel seemed uneven from bite to bite - some bites seemed too overtly sweet while others were kinda bland. That leads me to believe it's either not very good caramel or there's something off in the production process.

And while the thought of adding almonds, cashews and pecans to the tried-and-true peanuts seem like a very intriguingly good idea, the byproduct is almost worthy of it's own blooper reel. Think about it. Of course all those nuts will be chopped up into little itty-bitty bits, then slathered in sticky caramel goop and hardened...so of course they're gonna form a nutty conglomeration worthy of only the sturdiest of molars to undertake. And of course based on weight and settling and shuffling and what not, the nut clusters will all sink to the bottom of the bag (you know, like, all four of them), so one must dig through all the poofy popcorn to get some nuts then risk an unscheduled dentist trip to enjoy them. Well, good thing they taste pretty good - it's caramel covered nuts, what did you expect?

I think the bag cost somewhere around $3, and while it's a tasty enough of snack...well, call me a traditionalist (I hate instant replay!!!!) but I gotta go for Cracker Jack instead - better caramel and no nutty nut bombs. Plus you get that awesome sticker or temporary tattoo inside. Not a bad attempt TJ's, but sometimes, less is more, and when you're going against a legend, you gotta bring your A game. It says something that Sandy, a much more fervent fan of caramel popcorn than I can ever aspire to be, was a little displeased as well, for much of the reasons above. This "grand slam" seems more of a fly out to the warning track - might still bring something home, but in the end, it's still a sacrifice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Grand Slam: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.