Trader Joe's Curry Cauliflower Quinoa Salad

It's official. Cauliflower can join coffee, mango, pumpkin, and cookie butter as the fifth great love of Trader Joe. He's clearly got an obsession.

Cauliflower is a product that has proven its extreme versatility repeatedly, particularly in the past year—plus it's arguably the healthiest of "The Big Five." 

Quinoa is still working on its star status, but it has played some interesting roles in the past, too, generally as a supporting ingredient, but rarely a main attraction.

Curry is...well, curry is usually awesome...and this product is just another great example of its awesomeness.

Throw cauliflower, quinoa, and curry together, and you have this unique creation. I'm not sure why it works...or even if most of you will agree with me that it does. But I devoured this tub like it was going out of style.  Sorry. That's a really weak mixed metaphor. But yeah. I devoured the tub like it was...expiring soon...even though it wasn't. That's a better metaphor. But it sounds even dumber for some reason. You feel me, though? I loved this stuff.

There are a lot of calories in there, for what is essentially Indian-spiced rabbit food. But curry always packs a high calorie count. I guess I'd rather be eating curry powder and canola oil than some goofy trans fats, though. The quinoa and cauliflower were just so fresh and hearty that I just kept craving this salad over and over. It was very filling, and I think you could space this small tub out to even more than three servings, as suggested on the packaging, particularly if you're just having it as a side dish or a between-meal bite. It makes a great tide-me-over, pick-me-up type snack. If you're having it as a stand-alone meal, like for lunch or whatever, then three servings is probably too many to expect from the tub, however.

The curry isn't overpowering. It's there, but there's still plenty of room for the nuttiness of the quinoa and the caulifloweriness of the cauliflower to come through. What is that actually called—caulifloweriness? Gardeniness? Plantacularity? I don't know. But it tastes more like actual cauliflower than many of TJ's experimental cauliflower derivatives, and that's not a bad thing if you're okay with the taste of cauliflower.

Sonia thoroughly enjoyed it as well—like four and a half stars kind of enjoyment, her highest score in quite a while. Her only complaint is the price. $3.99 for the tub. It's not outrageous, but she thinks she can somehow approximate the mixture herself by purchasing quinoa, cauliflower, and curry individually. Seems like a lot of work to save a buck or so. But if you're so inclined, go for it, wifey.

I give it four stars. Again, I don't know if this will have the universal appeal that some other Trader Joe's cauliflower offerings have had—I'm guessing there will be a significant faction of haters on this one, but I'll go out on a limb and tell you that if you think it sounds good at all, you should probably give it a try.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread

September! Back to school time...or for Sandy and me, time to get our firstborn daughter, M, off to kindergarten. Time flies...seems like just yesterday I wrote this.

M impresses me. She does, for real. Like when we took her grocery shopping for lunch supplies for school. We got a big packet of info for the upcoming school year, discussing all the different school rules and policies. Understandably, there was some space spent on peanuts and nuts, etc. The school rule is, for lunch, things like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are allowed to be brought in...but those who are allergic to peanut butter and can't be near it have to sit at a different table than everyone else. It's probably not a perfect solution, but it's what the school can do to keep everyone appeased.

Anyways, we kind of explained of this to M as best we could. Now this girl has no food allergies and loves peanut butter and jelly. Loves it enough to rival mac 'n cheese. So there we were, at Trader Joe's, near the PB shelf and presented M with a choice: Get peanut butter like she'd be allowed to get, and only sit with some certain kids...or try Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread and be able to sit and make friends with anyone at lunch time.

She chose the sunflower seed spread.

Granted, it's not awful. But I'm a PB guy, through and through. This particular seed butter is medium-thick, oily, kinda goopy, decidedly salty, and unmistakenably made from sunflower seeds which I like, but not nearly as much as the earthy goodness of a good ol' peanut. If it seems similar to other TJ's products, you'd be mostly right. Big difference is lack of added sugar as this spread is composed of just seeds and salt. It's more functional than snackable, I guess.

M feels the same. Those eyerolls she tosses out right now when we ask what she considers a dumb question - man, those upcoming teenage years oughtta be a hoot. I got one for the ages when I asked her if she likes peanut butter or sunflower seed butter better. "Peanut butter" she muttered with as much implied "Duhhhh" in her tone as she could muster.

Still, M chooses it every time for her sandwich, simply because this little girl wants to be friends with everyone. She wants to be able to sit down and happily chomp away at her lunch with any set of kids and be able to talk about what happened on the playground or favorite colors or bugs or farts or whatever kids talk about at cafeteria tables. She's willing to meet other kids where they are, and sacrifice some of her preferences and entitlement to do so. She's willing to see that even though some other kids are different than her, they're not wrong or bad or to be avoided. They're all just some kindergartners wanting to enjoy lunch together.

Maybe I'm being particularly sappy and sentimental with her going off to school...but dammit, that's kinda beautiful to me. Maybe we'd all be better off if we could all see the world the way she does when choosing her lunch. I know I'd be. 

When I asked for her opinion of the seed spread, M just gave me a sideways thumb and a scrunchy faced grimace. I think that's actually a slight compliment...so there's that. I feel strangely the same, actually. But I'm glad to slap some on bread with some blueberry jam for her any time she wants for lunch, so she can enjoy with anyone she wants.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Spread: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Riced Cauliflower Stir Fry

Trader Joe's has cauliflower filling the shoes of rice, pizza crust, mashed potatoes, and burger patties, among other things. Here, it's reprising its classic ricey role, but this time, it's part of a complete stir fry meal—well, complete if you're fine eating stir fry sans meat, or even fake meat of any kind. Surprisingly, I was more than happy with it that way. Sonia was too.

Not only is it full of peas, corn, and peppers, but there's already a good bit of savory flavor thanks to the blend of tamari, onion, sesame oil, and ginger. I had to look up "tamari." In this case, it's soybeans, salt, and spirit vinegar. Then, I had to look up "spirit vinegar." Is it related to spirit gum? Is it really that close to Halloween? We haven't even started pumpkin pandemonium yet. Turns out it's a vinegar that's distilled from the ectoplasmic residue of ghosts and otherworldly beings. Oh, no wait. That's what I assumed it was before I looked it up...it's actually...well, here's the link I found. You can read it yourself if you're as culinarily ignorant as I am...ahem, was.

The blend of veggies is very well balanced against the base of riced cauliflower. In our case, each veggie was pristine, whole, and was extremely high quality in both taste and texture. The combo of seasonings is subtle, but goes a long way toward making this a stand-alone side dish. I wasn't even craving extra salt or pepper. There's something surprisingly addictive about this product. I mean, I thought the same thing about the riced cauli by itself, but this particular mixture is even more enjoyable in some ways.

We even tried adding it to some leftover food from the local Chinese place since we had run out of white rice. It worked surprisingly well with my Kung Pao Scallops. I'd be willing to bet it'd go just fine with less exotic selections like beef or chicken, too.

A normal bag of riced cauliflower will run you $1.99 at TJ's, and this offering costs exactly a dollar more. Couldn't you simply buy a bag of mixed veggies and stir it into a bag of riced cauliflower while altering the amount of veggies to suit your personal taste? Sure could. And it would probably cost about the same, or maybe even a little less. But as far as pre-mixed concoctions go, I can't imagine a much better blend—certainly not a blend with more universal appeal than this one. It seems pretty safe to me. If you like mixed vegetables and riced cauliflower, you're probably not gonna hate this.

Four stars a piece here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Gochujang Flavored Almonds

Gochujang.

Gotta admit: Never heard of it. Not sure how to pronounce it. Every time I type it, I've had to look back and make sure I'm spelling it right. Go-chu-jang. I'd butcher that any which way I could, for sure.

Must say something about how relatively sheltered my palate has been that a lot of my exposure to imported flavors have come from Trader Joe's. I mean, I'm a guy who's excited that Panda Express and their legendary orange chicken is finally coming to Pittsburgh. So, once again, forgive me here, as I have no other gochujang experience to relate to Trader Joe's Gochujang Flavored Almonds...

...but holy smokitos, these are some blazing almonds. These just be the spiciest widely commercially available product I've had. These nuts are the kinda deal where it doesn't really hit you right upfront, but more steadily builds and builds with each bite. Sandy's only had a few and has said she doesn't think they're that hot, but trust me...hot.

And, even better, it's a somewhat complex spice as well. Gochujang is apparently the name for a certain type of red chili paste that's a little sweet, a lot spicy, and definitely multilayered. I almost hate making the comparison, but think of the seasoning of Chex Mix condensed down into a more concentrated, potent powder. Some soy/Worcestershire sauce. Garlic salt. A few extra shakes of chili powder. Intensified. It's the best, easily relatable comp I can think of. Even then, it's not quite that. There's just this little sweetness, this little kiss of sugar, that somehow sneaks in through all of that just to keep it all grounded. Also, there's almost like a fermented savoriness at work here - makes sense with what I've learned about gochujang - and it just all ties together unbelievably well.

The almonds make a great base for really showcasing the spice, as well. Nicely roasted, crunchy, very munchable. The gochujang mix doesn't stick to the nuts all that well, which is just as well, as it's very potent...but man, the nuts at the bottom of the bag are gonna be spicy af. I'm looking forward to them, but not without some trepidation.

The bag cost only like $5 for 12 ounces. Not a bad deal. I'd be remiss of my duties that consumers may, like myself, experience some, um, digestive consequences after eating. Nothing so awful I won't go back for more, but there's a, um, pattern that's been established here. Let me keep that at that, please. After all - fermented product. I honestly have no real complaints and will probably snack on them and buy as long as they're available, and I'm sure I can get Sandy hooked on them too.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Gochujang Flavored Almonds: 8.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Apple Banana Fruit Sauce Crushers

Sonia and I are thinking about having kids now that we know these little apple sauce pouches exist. We've been debating the pros and cons of procreating ever since we got married 8 years ago, and the debate always came down to:  "But think of how awful it will be when we pack our kid's lunch for school and we stick a little plastic cup of apple sauce in next to Johnny's sandwich and then we forget to put a spoon in the bag. He'll be taunted by his classmates ruthlessly—scarred for life, looking back on the day he had apple sauce smeared all over his face while striving in vain to lick the remaining sauce out of the cup with only his tongue."

"Also, I don't want to bring anyone into a world where apple banana sauce isn't a thing," Sonia would often interject as a closing thought to the conversation.

"Right, then it's settled," I'd say, as we'd both proceed to go about our child-free lives with clear consciences.

But of course this product shoots holes all through that argument. I mean, there's still the "I don't want my kids to grow up in a post-World War Three apocalyptic nuclear wasteland" argument, but that scenario has always seemed far-fetched compared to the "cup of apple sauce, no spoon" one.

Recently, I've seen these little squeezable apple sauce pouches everywhere. I guess it started with GoGo squeeZ, but now everybody and his brother has their own version—including, of course, Trader Joe. Just to be clear, we'll be reviewing the Trader Joe's version today—in case you didn't catch on to the theme of this blog...and all of our previous 1,030 reviews.

And honestly, this is the first squeezable apple sauce product I've ever tried, of any brand. So I won't really be able to compare it to any of the leading brands. I'm sure they're all quite similar. But I must point out at this juncture that this one is not only gluten-free (did anyone assume otherwise?) but organic and vegan as well. Eat your heart out, Amazon-owned Whole Foods stores with suddenly semi-reasonable prices.

These TJ's "crushers" are $2.69 for four, by the way. Not bad, considering how much packaging there is here. I know, I know, we're sacrificing a bit of "greenness" and cash for the sake of convenience—and the self-esteem of countless grade school children nation-wide.

Flavor-wise, it's a beautiful balance of bananas and apples, with apple shining through just slightly more prominently than its counterpart. I think I rather prefer the taste of this to plain apple sauce. Texture-wise, it's ever so slightly thicker than traditional apple sauce, by virtue of the pureed bananas. The pouch, with its little nozzle at one end, functions very well, and if you work at it for a minute, you can quite satisfactorily squeeze every last drop of the sauce out from the bag. Delightfully practical.

These would make great travel snacks for anyone, not just kids. They'd be great for hiking, camping, or even driving to work. We very well may purchase these again. There are a couple other flavors: Apple, Apple Strawberry, and Apple Carrot—any or all of which we may give a try.

Four stars from me, four stars from Sonia.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks

So many varieties of cookies in the world, isn't there? there's hundred if not thousands. In Pittsburgh, it's traditional to have a "cookie table" at a wedding where it's veritable cookie buffet...which to me is usually the highlight of the show. Can't even tell you what my favorite cookie is, because there's just too many to choose from...

...but then there's the classic chocolate chip. It's all American and apparently a much more recent innovation that I had thought. Still, there's that timeless taste and feel, that though it may not be the absolute tastiest cookie in the world, it's one I'll go back to over and over again. The brown sugary batter, with semisweet chocolate chips, preferably fresh out of the oven, or least still a little soft and hopefully not too crunchy siding a little bit towards melty....mmmm.

I'm not one to think that such a recipe needs to be doctored up with too many add-ins like nuts, oatmeal, or, in the case of Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks, a bunch of sodium. Other salty baked goods from TJ's have been darn near overkill. Still, I had to wonder how TJ's would pull these off.

I think they forgot the salt.

From previous experience, I was expecting big crunchy sea salt crystals in these cookies. Though not visible on the outside, there was the possibility they were baked in. Na. No crunchy salt pockets anywhere. To me, this is kinda a plus, but if it's what you were expecting, you may be disappointed. Or we may have gotten a bum batch. Or something.

The rest of the cookie confection is okay at best. It's a decent chocolate chip cookie-type deal - still soft and a little chewy, not all crunchy like a biscotti - but it also tastes a little off somehow. Like there's an extra bittersweet essence in the midpart of the bite. Maybe this is where the salty part sneaks in, where it heightens the contrast of brown sugar and butter against the semisweet chocolate. It doesn't taste wrong, per se, but a little off perhaps.

Also, going back to the texture...I'm not a big cookie dunker by habit, so this is untested personally, but seems like the cookie stick would probably crumble and break apart if submerged in coffee or milk or whatever. Thing is, the cookies even remain that way - we've had the package about a week, and they haven't dried out. Which is a plus to me.

Then again, that a package of chocolate chunkers have lasted that long around here says to me that maybe we don't think they taste all that great.

Meh. Lots of cookies in the world, they can't all be slam dunk winners. C'est la vie. Even our kids were noncommittal about them, favoring chocolate bananas for their dessert of choice recently. Meh all the way around. Both Sandy and I are around a 2.5 to 3 for them, so let's go with one each.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Sea Salt Chocolate Chunk Cookie Sticks: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mini Chicken Tikka Samosas

I've always been a fan of not only chicken tikka masala, but chicken tikka as well—basically just boneless chicken with tandoori spices. And overall, I've been super impressed with Trader Joe's Indian offerings throughout the years. Plus, I love me some samosa-type appetizers...so purchasing this new-to-me frozen noshable was a no-brainer. And I'm glad I did.

The shells came out of the oven flaky and crispy, if perhaps a tad greasy. No need for pan-frying these puppies—they provided more than enough oil of their own. Taste-wise, the dough was extremely pleasant and flavorful, not to mention structurally-sound for hand-held snacking straight off an hors d'oeuvre tray or...you know, right from the baking sheet if one were so inclined. Note: that structural integrity guarantee does not remain in effect if one were to, say, cut the appetizer in half with a fork to share with a friend, or to, perhaps, take a picture for a blog or Instagram or what have you. In fact, cutting these little triangular morsels caused most of the chicken tikka filling to squish out onto the plate, which brings me to my next point...

The chicken tikka filling was good, but it's extremely shredded, to the point where it's nearly liquefied...okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. I guess I'm trying to say I wouldn't have minded some actual chicken bits, but that's nitpicking on my part. 

Also, the flavor was pleasant, but it just wasn't intense enough for me. The Indian spices weren't as potent as other chicken tikka offerings I've had. There was just enough spice to tell that this was, indeed, an Indian-inspired appetizer—but no more than that. I like my Indian food to boast strong, spicy, vivid tastes. This was a much more mild flavor here.

Sonia didn't seem to mind it as much as I did, but she immediately pointed out that as good as the product was, in her opinion, it would have been much better with a sweet, spicy Indian chutney of some kind.

Even though I'm able to point out a few things that might be labeled as "flaws" in this product, it's still pretty dang snackable. The true test is how long the tray lasts in our household of two after it comes out of the oven. In this case, barely 15 minutes. It could have had something to do with the fact it was close to lunch time, but we can't score this too harshly based on that fact alone. Again, we're looking at twelve pieces for just about four dollars, so it's a pretty standard value we've been seeing at TJ's lately.

I'll throw out three and a half stars here. Sonia will spring for four.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee

Wanna live forever?

Drink more coffee.

Nah, seriously.

Okay, probably not....but if you're anything like most of the rest of us, coffee is essential to morning survival. I need at least one cup, usually two, and little top-me-off most afternoons in that 2:30 kinda range, too. That's when the p.m. sleepies hit, which aren't that great when sitting at the ol' cubicle with a few hours yet to go before heading home to the real job.

So coffee might not make you immortal...but why take chances?

And why not increase your chances with Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee?

After all, the village of Vilcabamba is known for the longevity of their residents, although somewhat dubiously. Might it be their coffee?

Maybe...because this coffee is particularly drinkable. Smooth, even. It's a really nice balance with the medium roast hitting some earthy notes without too much acid or bite. Not bittersweet, but not entirely dull either - there's a little depth to the flavor. Must be from the Ecuadoran climate - grown in the shade up in the mountains, subtropical climate, and so on. You can tell the beans had a good life before being harvested. Makes a good cup if taken black as I prefer.

Still, perhaps I'm a bit spoiled. I mean, this Ecuadoran joe isn't bad, but it doesn't compare to the coffee beans my dad roasts. He gets them from pretty much every country that grows coffee and roasts the beans fresh a few times a week. After just being in town to visit last weekend and being reminded of how good that stuff is, and no matter where from, the depth and vibrancy of each variety, well, this just isn't as good.

But it'll do for an at-home cup in the morning fresh outta the bean grinder and French press. And at a pretty decent price tag too - $8.99 for the 12 ounce bag of whole beans. It'd be a stretch to say this would my every day choice for many years to come, however many I may have, but it wouldn't be the worst option in the world by far, either. If this coffee is somehow the fountain of youth, I'd drink to that.

Double fours from the wife and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Ecuador Vilcabamba Estate Small Lot Coffee: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sriracha Seafood Potstickers

Trader Joe's 50th anniversary? A rare total eclipse of the sun over the USA? How spectacular on both counts!

Unfortunately, I picked a relatively lame product to review right after the monumental events of the last few days. How anticlimactic.

Sriracha? Seafood? Asian dumplingy things? Doesn't sound too shabby to me. What's not to like? Hmm. Well...

First of all, I thought this was a new product. It's not. It's been around for a while, though it looks like it may have recently been an unwitting participant in one of TJ's infamous repackaging schemes. Apparently, it used to be green and red? I don't know if I have those facts straight, but I have a sinking feeling that someone will correct me in the comments section if they've got better intel than I do.

Anyhoo, I think I heard one of you ask, "What's not to like about this delicious, exotic appetizer, Nathan?" Well, first off, the texture...but before I go on a little rant, let's cover the positives—er, at least the less negative aspects of the product first.

How about we start with the sriracha? I actually think it tastes vaguely like sriracha and does indeed have a little kick. It's not a big kick. And both Sonia and I are always hankerin' for bigger kicks in these foods that are supposed to be spicy. But the spice-level I can live with here. I could certainly stand it stronger, but I personally didn't find a lack of sriracha to be one of the biggest weaknesses in this product.

Likewise, there were little chunks of shrimp that I would have loved a lot more of. They didn't taste bad and their texture was probably the most enjoyable element of the appetizer.

But the texture of the crab combined with that of the wrappers? Weird. It was just a slimy mush. I heated the potstickers via the stove top method detailed on the packaging. I think it was that final steaming step that threw them off. Or maybe I added too much water. At any rate, I drained the water and then fried the remaining pieces in a little more oil. This made them significantly more solid and somewhat more enjoyable, but there was still a gelatinous element to the whole thing that was a little off-putting to me.

I mentioned before that the shrimp wasn't bad and the sriracha wasn't bad, and I'll stand by those assertions. I guess the flavors that didn't really do it for me were those of the crab and the carrot/red pepper wrappers. It really didn't taste like crab to me. Overall, it was a weird flavor—vaguely spicy and vaguely seafoody, but in general, it didn't work. Both Sonia and I feel like onions, shallots, celery and/or actual carrot bits might have served this product well—any kind of actual veggies would have been welcome.

$3.99 for twelve potstickers. Not super cheap, but not the worst value in the world if you're one of the people who happen to like them. In the end, it's not a complete disaster of a product, but neither of us can recommend it very highly.

Sonia: 3 stars

Nathan: 2.5 stars

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley

Seeds and beans...beans and seeds...I love me some beans and seeeeeeeeds.....

No? Don't know that tune? Good, means you didn't hear it bouncing around in my head.

Thank you for not being in my head. It's a scary enough place without you there, too.

Actually, it's just my lame attempt at making a tune for Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley. Other products lend themselves to song parody much more easily. There's not much to really sing about here.

And not that much to really say, either. These kinda snacks must have their own little niche market, with a devoted following, because it seems like every couple months some sort of new dried veggie-type concoction comes up and on shelves and then just as suddenly disappear. Some are hits, others....not.

This one falls somewhere in the middle. Really, the highlight here is neither the seeds nor the beans...it's the corn. Those big, crunchy kernels are reminiscent of other snacks, and are pretty popcornesque sans any trace of fluffiness. I like them, and the flavor of them blend nicely in with the assorted pepitas and fava beans and other stuff that seem more or less  indistinguishable if you're not looking at them.

The major drawback? Again, neither bean nor seed...but the peas. Silly legumes. Really, they're the morsels that stick out the most - there's an almost earthy sweetness to them that kinda stands out unevenly from the rest of the crowd. Not awful...but not exactly terrific either. I jusr didn't like them.

The oily crunchy saltiness is the overarching flavor, as would be expected. But a little something else to them would have been appreciated - maybe a little ranch or something a little spicy - but na, just salt. And why isn't this labelled as gluten-free? Cross-contamination concerns that bad at the factory? Jeez.

Our fam was split on the snack bag o' beans and peas. Sandy and our oldest daughter thoroughly enjoyed the mix, while our youngest and I kinda took a bite or two before dismissing it. Meh. Not my thing, but could be yours. And at only like $2 or $3 for the bag, it can be...for practically a song.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Seed & Bean Medley: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Organic Purple Carrot Juice

I'm aware purple carrots are a thing. I've seen them, heard about them, and have even eaten them cooked on one occasion. But somehow, my fleeting experience with them didn't quite prepare me for the taste of this beverage.

If you're someone who's a huge health nut, eats organic, and is quite familiar with purple carrots and their flavor, I'm sure this juice will be far less disappointing for you than it was for me. For a foodie-hack reviewing his way through Trader Joe's offerings—everything from organic quinoa to cookie butter cheesecake, I must say, this product was on the more unpleasant end of the spectrum. If I'm going to pay four bucks for one liter of juice, it's nice to know that it's good for me, but I was also hoping I could stomach the taste a little better, too.

Both Sonia and I immediately noted the similarity to beet juice. No, not beetlejuice. Beet juice—which thanks (or maybe no thanks) to Trader Joe's, we're familiar with as well. Must be the purpleness that makes it taste like beets. Am I right?

It also does taste vaguely like traditional carrots, but not quite as much as I expected it to. The splash of lemon is barely detectable. A bit more of that tartness might have helped, but I doubt it would have done much to influence the overall essence of the drink.

The WG@TJ's team has encountered carrot juice in the past. Even purple carrot juice once before. But in each of those previous cases, the beverage was heavily sexed up with more palatable juices like grape, apple, and/or orange. I think that's what we need here. I'm happy this beverage is organic and healthy and all, but the drinkability factor needs a little help.

Sonia's been trying to do that thing where you drink like two teaspoons of apple cider vinegar a few times a day for weight loss and heath, and she thinks this product is barely more drinkable than raw vinegar. However, she wants to like it and assumes that the taste will grow on her. It won't. I know her. But she gives it a generous three stars anyway.

I kinda want to like it, too. But I don't. I'll give it two stars since it's organic and "good-for-me." 

Bottom line: 5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps

Somebody please explain the appeal of hot soup in the summer time to me.

In the fall when the leaves are turning and there's that cool crispness in the air? On a blustery cold wintry day? Even in the springtime, when it's not all that warm yet? Sure, soup to you on all those kinda days? But summer? Precisely what makes soup great on all those other kinda days is what makes soup awful for the summer - that warm, full, salty, brothy feeling in your stomach. That's the last thing I want when it's pushing the 90s for both degrees and humidity.

Yet I see people eat soup all summer long. Even when complaining how hot it is outside. Even when living in a 100 year old brick house with no AC. I don't get it.

Yet...I've never wanted to make a big ol' crock pot of chili or potato or chicken noodle soup in August like I do right now. All thanks to Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps.

These better be around come autumn, or me and Big Joe will have some words. Serious words. These chips are all the classic comfort taste of high quality cornbread in a highly snackable form. If you have bad impulse control, you may want to avoid - there's some serious binge-eating potential here. Think cornbread, with it subtly earthy sweetness and salty, greasy vibe, mixed with a crumbly Wheat Thin, and that's about what we have here - but better. Crispy, crunchy, and light, but with every bit of cornbread essence, even down to the grittiness of cornmeal in the last bite or two. Delectable, delicious, delightful....devine even? Not that far of a stretch. At first it felt odd to make the Wheat thin comparison, but then I saw wheat flour was the first ingredient - apologies to the gluten-free crowd - so it's not too far off base.

These crisps are begging for soup to be crumbled atop. They'd be perfect alongside my chili. Sure, there's some other, much more summer friendly applications possible, like tossing in with a salad, eating straight, serving with some cheese, or even smushing some up to use as a pie crust. My only disappointment is that the crackers didn't match quite as well with either my family's new favorite fruit jam or my favorite store bought salsa as I would have hoped.

Definitely try them out, and maybe some stock up on some for when it's crockpot meal weather. Can't say there's much wrong. Double fours from the Mrs and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cornbread Crisps: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Mango & Sticky Rice Spring Rolls

To be fair, I've only ever had sticky rice one other time, and even that instance was just snagging it off a friend's plate at the end of a Thai meal we had in Los Angeles, circa ten years ago. After doing a little Google research, I stumbled upon this informative article that not only refreshed my memory about the fun Asian dessert, but also illuminated much about its history, origins, and typical methods of preparation. Among other things, I learned that sticky rice is also known as "glutinous rice," and despite the sound of the name, it does not contain gluten. This product does contain gluten, however, since there's a wheat-based covering on the spring roll. 

Not surprisingly, there's nothing about sticky rice spring rolls in that article, nor have I ever heard of such a thing before.

But as Trader Joe's is well aware, just because something doesn't exist, doesn't mean it shouldn't exist.

Enter: Trader Joe's Mango & Sticky Rice Spring Rolls. The photo on the box makes it look like the filling is mostly a mango-based jam-like substance. The filling is mostly sticky rice, but there's plenty of actual mango in there, too. And the mango gets slightly gelatinous, surrounded by all that yummy stickiness, but not to the point the cover art would have you believe.

And that's just fine by me. There's plenty of authentic mango flavor as it is. The sticky rice is nice and sweet, and the "wrapper" on the spring roll gets warm and crispy when heated on a skillet with oil.

While the spring roll version of sticky rice isn't necessarily traditional, it apparently is traditional to serve the sticky rice covered with coconut milk and mango, both of which are present here. It's a great combination, and I look forward to having it in its more traditional form next time I find myself at a decent Thai restaurant—or Laotian restaurant, should I be so fortunate.

This dessert (or appetizer, as the case may be) is dense, heavy, and filling. The rolls are surprisingly structurally-sound, as they never completely disintegrated as I ate them with my hands. Even the mango pieces stayed right where they were supposed to, in the middle of the rolls.

$2.99 for five rolls—more than enough dessert for two. I'd definitely consider purchasing this one again. It's got a great, unique flavor, quality ingredients, and it's easy enough to prepare. Double fours here.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips

Alrighty, confession time: it had been weeks, perhaps even months, since I'd last stepped foot inside a Trader Joe's before I went there a few days ago. Kinda surprising, but kinda how we roll, too. My lovely wife, in all her semi-stay at home mama madness, already goes to TJ's probably three or four days a week and makes a regular route to scout out anything new or exciting. I (and you, the readers) reap the spoils.

Anyways, she and the kiddos left town for a few days to visit my folks, leaving me here by myself and in need of sustenance and supplies. Off to TJ's for me! Off to wander and frolic along the aisles once more, foodstuffs untasted, yearning to be brought home with me in my week of bachelor mayhem....

Nothing. Nothing new, exciting, interesting, or untried. I looked hard, everywhere. Maybe I'm off my game. Or maybe TJ's is in that weird "prepare ye the way of pumpkin spice" mode they seem to do every August and so there's not much new til then.

While I briefly considered picking up a big hunk of some cheese so my Week of Russ could mirror the Summer of George, I settled on a jar of Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips. Woohoo. See, dear, I told you I was behaving myself.

I like 'em, quite a bit. There's few simple little simpler pleasures than a good pickle sometimes. Kosher dills that are closer to cucumber than overly pickled ones are the best IMHO, and that's the case here. Fresh, firm, fleshy, with a little crunch - yum. The heat level is pleasantly a little spicier than anticipated - imagine a fairly feisty banana pepper, and that approximates the heat level emanating from pretty much every chip. Of course, they are decidedly more pickle-y and vinegar-y than a pepper, but it's close enough. The heat blends well with the garlic and dill to make a smooth, even, pleasant taste.

Anything that you'd like pickle chips on, these would work. Burgers, sandwiches, straight from the jar like I did for dinner last night...hey, don't judge, not my fault there was leftover pizza at work and I needed something to go with my Mountain Dew...bachelorhood for the win. And for only a couple bucks for the jar, it's a quality pickle chip too. Good times. I have nothing overtly critical to say about them one way or another - I'm not in love with them, per se, but I certainly recognize their goodness and tastiness. Just me, so I'm doubling my score.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Organic Kosher Hot & Spicy Dill Pickle Chips: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Organic Strawberry Lime Agua Fresca

Ah, with all this rain we've been getting here on the east coast, we haven't had quite as much need for refreshing beverages as of late, but here and there we still have hot days, and lawns still need mowed, and shrubbery that's been left to grow wild, untrimmed, and unchecked by unruly tenants still needs clipped, and houses with no air conditioning and cat urine-soaked carpets still need cleaning on the inside...so needless to say, we still work up significant cravings for liquid refreshment on those days.

Sonia's very happy we reached for this flavor of agua fresca to quench our thirsts. I'm still not blown away, but this is my personal favorite flavor so far.

In case you missed either of them, our crack team of Trader Joe's product-reviewing extraordinaires has already reviewed the Hibiscus variety as well as the Pineapple Mango Mint flavor. As for this Strawberry Lime edition, it seems to me one could just take a sweeter beverage—say, the now-defunct Trader Joe's Pomegranate Limeade or Trader Joe's Organic Strawberry Lemonade and simply dilute them with one part water for every one part juice and come up with a very similar effect...or maybe just leave a glass of one of those beverages out in the rain for an hour or two. 

You could come back, and be like, "Oh look! God has miraculously multiplied my delicious fruit juice and given me twice as much!" And then if a friend pointed out the obvious fact that it was the rain and not necessarily a miracle, you could act all injured that your friend was insulting your faith and then point to the additional miracle that not only did your beverage grow in quantity, but it changed from a sticky, sugary-sweet diabetes trap to...you guessed it: agua fresca!

Sonia likes the lightness of the flavor but does add: "It's not like Mexicans don't like sugar." That's her way of admitting that the flavor could be a little more intense and sweet. Nevertheless, she gives it four and a half stars, an impressive score indeed. In light of her very high score, I'll match this product with the last agua fresca we looked at and throw out three stars.

Finally, here's a short video "review" that plays more like a spec spot for Trader Joe's. Wanna hire us for some TV or internet ads, Big Joe?

 

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni

Let's see...Ravioli. Pot stickers. Won tons. Gyoza. Dumplings. Pierogi. Samosas. Bao. Tamales. And the undoubtedly all-American addition, the Totino's Pizza Roll.

Yes, there are all sorts of stuffed dough pocket-type constructions from all over the world. Obviously that's a short top-of-the head list. There's some differences, of course, from dough to stuffing material to size and prep methods, but it's a very common concept. Mostly because it's tasty. But until now, I've never heard of the Russian contribution to this realm, pelmeni.

Well, here's Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni on my dinner plate. All these little bite sized little dumpling deals all up in my bowl. Please God, no borscht in here....not that I have any idea what borscht really is.

Whew. No borscht! We're already ahead here!

As for everything else, it's a tasty enough bite. The dough is thin and kinda eggy but good in a comforty, nondescript way. As for the middle filling, the chicken and mushroom and whatever else gets rolled up up in some sort of soft meatball-type morsel that, strangely, doesn't taste all that much like either chicken or mushrooms. It's just kinda there. And it tastes good, again with a comfort type-vibe, but I wouldn't be able to tell you what it was. It's kinda salt and mild seasonings.

That's kinda the issue, I think. Again, nothing all that wrong with the pelmeni, but in a crowded field with so many similar products (most of them more familiar to the presumed typical consumer palate), there's nothing settting these apart. I wouldn't mind eating them again, and I'm not upset we still have a bag and a half of them in our freezer. But I'd never make a big fuss about getting them again, either.I couldn't tell you what the difference between these a regular bag of potstickers except maybe the pelmeni are more square.

Sandy and I both liked them for a midday lunch date at my work place. Our kids stuck to their cheese pierogi, because God forbid they ate something out of the usual. Then again, I can't say we really did, either. Eh well.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken & Mushroom Pelmeni: 6.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Pollo Asado Burrito

As much as I love the English language and champion its practicality among all the tongues of the world, I've always admired Spanish for placing the noun before the adjective. Just think about it. The noun is generally more important, therefore, should come first. In this case: chicken grilled. Those of you from the west coast will know El Pollo Loco, or as I like to call it, "The Chicken Crazy," which by the way, never offered a chicken burrito quite as tasty as this one, in my humble opinion.

Sonia might disagree, and while nobody's personal assessment is more or less valid than another's, hers goes quite a long way in terms of deeming what is "authentically Mexican" and what is not. Like offerings from Qdoba and Chipotle, this burrito is highly Americanized, but still brings some distinctive Mexican, or at least "Tex-Mex," flavors. For that reason, I liked it. It had plenty of peppers, black beans, corn, and rice, and I noticed a decent amount of shredded, grilled chicken, too. Sonia didn't think there was enough of that pollo—or at least that it wasn't flavorful enough to be noticed. 

The burrito was surprisingly sweet. I'm not sure where that was coming from, although "sugar" is listed on the ingredients in at least three places. See what I mean? Americanized. Muricans gotta throw sugar into everything.

My biggest complaint, though, was a decided lack of heat. This burrito wasn't spicy at all—which was disappointing because "salsa" is mentioned right on the wrapper. I know not all salsas are five alarm fires, but I generally hope for at least a little extra kick. Not here, unfortunately. 

At just about four dollars, this isn't the cheapest grocery store burrito you'll find at Trader Joe's—or any other marketplace, for that matter. However, when compared with those above-mentioned "Mexican grill" type restaurants, you'd be hard-pressed to find anything this cheap. And quality-wise, I'd say this offering should be compared to those restaurant burritos, not the average frozen thing at the grocery store—primarily because this burrito does not come frozen, but rather, refrigerated. For that reason, I think it tastes a great deal fresher than frozen burritos with similar ingredients.

I was lazy and crass enough to heat this item in the microwave rather than the oven. But neither Sonia nor I think that would have made much difference here. Any way you slice it, I was gonna wind up liking this burrito con pollo asado, and Sonia was gonna wind up going "meh." Four stars from me. Two and a half from her.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10.