Trader Giotto's Due Canestrelli and Trader Giotto's Baci di Dama Cookies

That checkout area is tricksy. And now it's kinda fancy, too. Gourmet-sounding, foreign-inspired chookies? Yes, please. 

I call chocolate chip cookies or any other kind of cookies with considerable chocolate components "chookies" because I'm super in-touch with my inner five-year-old. But the grown-up in me enjoyed the sophisticated European-ness of these treats and the fact that they weren't overly sweet. Did I just rip off a Frosted Mini Wheats commercial? 

The Due Canestrelli is vaguely reminiscent of other chocolate wafers I've had, but thinner, stiffer, and a little more bitter. They're highly-snackable, satisfying, and unique.

The Baci di Dama Cookies might look like miniaturized macarons, but they're more like a shortbread-based cookie with a thin layer of dark chocolate filling. They're not unlike those crispy Milano-esque cookies we looked at last year. Although, I guess these are filled with Italian chocolate rather than Belgian chocolate?? If there's a difference between the two, I can't really detect it.

Each of the cookie packs is 99 cents and doesn't disappoint in the flavor department. Sonia scores both with four and a half stars, and I'll give 'em both fours. Cheap, fast, convenient, and small enough that you can eat the whole pack and not feel completely disgusted with yourself.

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Natural Turkey Summer Sausage

Sometimes, such as when I commented to my dad during the Super Bowl halftime that at least Coldplay was better than getting camera-slide-humped by Bruce Springsteen right before the montage started of years past and this clip played, my timing is impeccable. As referenced recently,I like the Boss and all, just, um, not like in that way.

Other times, my timing is off. Way off.

How else can I explain reviewing Trader Joe's Natural Turkey Summer Sausage right now? First, it's still winter, and there's a big ol' storm dumping inches of the powdery white death over a lot of the Eastern seaboard...Pittsburgh mostly spared yet again. Second, it's Ash Wednesday, so if you're Catholic, or like me, respectful of Catholic tradition for somewhat vague reasons, you aren't supposed to eat meat today...so here's a meat review. Right.

Anyways, on the spectrum of quality shelf stable meat consumables, summer sausage to me is a solid midpoint between the high (good beef jerky) and the low (Spam). It's not a perfectly optimal form of protein intake, but for a snack with cheese and crackers here, a hike-worthy munchable there, sure.

Narrowing down the scale even further, I think this turkeyfied take on the summer sausage stage is also fairly middlin'. It tastes just about right - definitely some good black pepper bite, good garlic, some bonus sweetness presumably from the cherry powder - but perhaps just a small step too potent. Really, if you're familiar with the cracked pepper beef and pork stick that TJ's offers, this has a fairly close flavor profile. What's different, though, is the texture. It's...not sure of the proper word. Softer? Yes. Mushier? Not quite right...but sort of. And not exactly grainy or anything, but there's a totally different bite to it, which is to be expected from a different meat. So with all the health tradeoffs of a leaner meat, to me, there is a small price to pay for the texture.

And now here is a potential controversial point here: the casing. To eat or not to eat? As a homage to my middle kid upbringing, I have a foot in both camps. Sometimes, I do, and sometimes, I do not. It depends almost entirely on my motivation and the relative ease in removing said casing. If you are in the "do not eat the casing" party, bad news: At least on my log, the casing is particularly difficult to remove. It seems extra stuck on. Now, I was able to remove it, eventually, but have tried some both ways, and I don't think the product greatly benefits or suffers from it. But in a likely cringe worthy moment, I tried some casing just by itself. Not advised.

Regardless, I'd say the TJ turkey summer sausage works. Not great, not bad, but it'll do, and not much else. Sandy tried some and kinda shrugged her shoulders, as did I. Not terrible for the $3ish bucks (I think). Just might do it for you whenever the time is right.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Natural Turkey Summer Sausage: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Sweet Onion & Bacon Vinaigrette

Sonia and I both like onions, but unlike our Pittsburghian counterparts, we're not huge bacon fans. Just do a search on this blog for the term "bacon," and pretty much all the results are posts by Russ. I know, I know. Unless you're vegan, vegetarian, kosher Jewish, or dead, what kind of unAmerican commie jerks don't like to eat lots and lots bacon? Us, that's who.

 

But we loved this salad dressing. Because it's mostly onions. The bacon flavor is very faint, by our reckoning. It's definitely there, but just barely.

 

Visually, using this dressing is like pouring a bunch of caramelized onions onto your salad. It's surprisingly thick and absolutely full of onion bits. There's actually more solid than liquid in the bottle here, and the dressing literally piles up on your lettuce unless you scatter the product around your salad bowl evenly. Taste-wise, it's not sweet like caramelized onions, but the texture is very similar.

 

Shockingly, this dressing is pretty subtle overall. It does taste like onions and vinaigrette dressing, but neither one is overpowering. It has neither the full earthy sting of raw onions, nor the sweet acidic zip of other kinds of vinaigrette. I actually wish it were a tad more pungent.

 

Sonia thinks it's just about perfect the way it is. We both agree it's amazingly unique and adds a lot to our salads. Four and a half from Sonia. Four from me.

 

Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.