Trader Joe's Just Beets 100% Juice

You've got to be pretty heavily into the flavor of beets to enjoy this beverage. And more than that, you've basically got to be someone who has at least considered, if not already tried, chugging the juice at the bottom of a jar of beets. Because that's pretty much what this is. As noted on a recent podcast episode, this is just about the beetiest thing imaginable. The "hint of lemon juice concentrate" is just that—a detectable, yet very faint whisper of lemon in a sea of big bold bright red BEET.

Now Sonia loves beets. They're one of her favorite foods. And even she was overwhelmed by the beetasticness of this beverage. At first, she didn't think it was so bad. She liked the taste of this juice because she enjoys the taste of beets. But by the end of the $4 container, even she was beeted-out—not totally disgusted, but quite ready to take a step back from the ocean of robust beet flavor. 

My first sip of this drink had me "beeten." In general, I tolerate beets. If they're on my plate, I'll eat them without complaining. But I'm not someone who would go out of my way to consume a beet. I feel quite neutral toward beets. But I think I've had my fill of beet juice for the rest of my days here on earth.

Sonia will give a fair and balanced three stars to this product, stating that she wouldn't buy it again simply because of the price tag. I'll throw a generous one and a half stars at this brash beet beverage.

Bottom line: 4.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Marshmallows

Ever since we got a fire pit for our backyard last summer, I've eaten more marshmallows than I have since I was about thirteen years old. It's not even that I like marshmallows that much—it's just that when you have a fire going, that's what you do. You roast marshmallows. And I must admit, when you get those beautifully golden-brown specimens, it's totally worth it. I do like the taste and texture of a perfectly fire-toasted marshmallow—although I'm not particularly skilled at it myself (see pic below). And who doesn't like s'mores?

With Trader Joe's offering, you're not eating a bunch of unpronounceable chemicals. I mean, we've all heard some scary things about carrageenan—and I'm not sure why they slipped something like that in this otherwise "healthy" marshmallow—but I'll take tapioca syrup and cane sugar over corn syrup and dextrose any day of the week. And indeed, they do taste better than traditional marshmallows, too, at least in my humble opinion.

Sonia thinks they taste more "sugary" than, say, Kraft marshmallows. I see where she's coming from. Especially raw, it almost feels like you can detect the cane sugar granules as you chew them. The tapioca gives them a very unique mouthfeel as well. Just think of a really tasty bowl of evaporated tapioca with a bunch of cane sugar to add sweetness, then congealed in a marshmallow shape.

Sonia and I had some at our little camping excursion this past weekend. (It's still "camping," even if it is in our own backyard...right?) I'd say they taste more like traditional marshmallows after they've been toasted—that is, it would be much harder to distinguish the Trader Joe's marshmallow and the traditional marshmallow in a blind taste-test if both specimens were toasted. I'm pretty sure I could do it if they were both raw.

I didn't feel like they puffed up as much as normal marshmallows on the fire. They browned around the edges okay, they got nice and soft, and they had that traditional yummy goo in the center, but they more or less maintained their original dimensions even after heating. 

Raw, toasted, or in a s'more, these guys deliver. Sonia and I both think that, as marshmallows go, these are among the best we've tried. With a long summer of campfires ahead, we'll undoubtedly buy more in the near future. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.

Trader Giotto's Trofie Colore

With five different colors represented, this imported Italian spiral pasta looks super exotic and exciting. Unfortunately, it doesn't taste that way.

Like Russ's toddler being disappointed that the black bean rotini noodles weren't chocolate, I was similarly saddened that these weren't, like, the same five flavors as Life Savers. I mean, the red, orange, yellow, green, and ivory are pretty much exactly the same colors you get in both cases. That's tantamount to false advertising in my book. I was hoping to pair some sweet, fruity noodles with pineapple salsa or something.

I'm actually just kidding about thinking they would be fruit-flavored, although I was hoping they'd have a flavor as flashy as their look. But alas, they're just normal noodles. If anything, they're even more bland than other plain pastas. If you're going to check these out, they're going to depend entirely on the sauce you choose to serve them with.

Since they're actually a type of macaroni noodle, we decided to go with something cheesy and Italian: Trader Giotto's Three Cheese Pomodoro Pasta Sauce, which, much to my surprise, has already been reviewed on this blog. And as that four-year-old review suggests, the sauce is really darn good, and was a much bigger hit than the pasta itself, which will certainly fade out of memory quickly, despite its attractive packaging and colorful presentation.

To be fair, though, there are a few other saving graces in regards to this product. The texture was nice. Cooking them according to the instructions yielded a nice soft batch of semi-tender, twisty, fine-grain pasta. It was filling enough, and for under two bucks, you can hardly complain about the value. I'll offer three stars here. Sonia will go with two and a half.

Bottom line: 5.5 out of 10.