Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins

Remember that Seinfeld episode about muffin tops? I scarcely do. It's been a while since I've sat down and watched any TV, let alone any '90s reruns. But I recall there being one about muffin tops...something about Elaine having a bakery that only sold the tops and had a hard time unloading the bottoms or "stumps". Like not even a homeless shelter wanted them. Does that sound about right? The whole point being, of course, that muffins tops are the best part of the muffin. Like most Seinfeld plots, of course it's a fairly preposterous scenario...while still somewhat rooted in a bit of reality 

This vague recollection sprung into my head while munching on a Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffin. Apparently I'm on a muffin kick this month...no matter. Gotta indulge every once in a while.

Definitely, the muffin top here is far superior to the muffin stump. It's probably for no other reason than the little sprinkling of crunchy sugar crystals encrusted up on top. There's not a whole lot of it, not nearly enough to make your teeth hurt, but just enough to help sweeten the whole thing up.

Add in the slightly crispier exterior bite, and maybe a touch extra of lemon zest, and there it is. This is one good muffin top.

The rest? Eh. It's sort of an ordinary blueberry muffin. Which isn't exactly a complaint. I'd be perfectly happy buying a muffin like this at a bakery or coffee shop, or making one of them at home that tasted just like this one. So I like them. But there's not anything too terribly special that puts them apart and above and beyond the competition. I mean, it's just...a muffin. Meh.

And unlike the recently reviewed almond muffins, there's not enough here to keep me full and going for a while, either. It's not an empty 360 calories per serving, but they're not exactly efficient either. I ate one alongside a cup of coffee and was hungry again within two hours.

Average muffins. That's about all. If only the whole thing was as good as the top...oh well. Maybe that Seinfeld episode had a bit more truth than usual to it. Double threes from my lovely bride and me.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Blueberry Muffins: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Joe-Joe's Cookies & Cream Light Ice Cream

Halo Top. Arctic Zero. Enlightened. Even other store brands. Everybody's jumping on the light ice cream band wagon. Shouldn't it be "lite" ice cream, though? The old, formal, traditional spelling is so...heavy, dontcha think?

The idea of diet ice creams pre-dates this latest wave of lite offerings by at least a few decades, but it's as if they just recently realized that they don't have to make these reduced calorie offerings taste disgusting. I guess it's the advent of stevia...? I mean, there's still cane sugar, powdered sugar, cream, and eggs in this concoction—even Joe-Joe's cookies. 

So what's the secret? If it's not painfully apparent already, I'll let you know that I'm no food scientist. Could it be the "steviol glycosides"?? The dextrose? The monk fruit extract?

Wait a minute. What the heck is a monk fruit? And what is its extract doing in my cookies n' cream ice cream?

I may never answer any of these questions in my lifetime, let alone in the next few paragraphs of this review, so let's just move on to what I can tell you about this new product from Trader Joe's...

In short, it's not nearly as disgusting as the diet ice creams that were around decades ago, but it still tastes like diet ice cream.

There's a thick, rich quality to it that I've noticed in some of the other "healthy" ice cream offerings I've tried in the past couple years. I guess it's the milk protein concentrate. It's almost as if they added a protein shake into the ice cream mix. It's a little "pasty" for lack of a better word, but it blends surprisingly well with the flavor of the ice cream and cookies in this particular instance. It's still not a taste I'd ever crave over traditional full-calorie ice cream, although Sonia was even more okay with this "protein powder effect" than I was.

For the most part, the Joe-Joe's are far and few between, and they're little more than crumbs here. We're about half way through the pint at the time of the composition of this review, and there was only one notable exception to that rule so far—there was about a quarter of a full Joe-Joe cookie wedged into the mix near the top of the container. It was nice to have that big slab of cookie, but no amount of Joe-Joe's would ever make this my favorite cookies n' cream ice cream.

If you're into reduced calorie ice creams, I guess this flavor is worth a try. Flavor-wise, it's no replacement for the real thing in my opinion, but it's on par with most other light ice cream offerings on the market right now. $2.99 for a pint isn't a bad price point when compared with other brands. Also, lots of protein here, and only 100 calories per serving. 

Three stars from me. Four from the better half.

Bottom line: 7 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Chicken Chilaquiles Rojo

There's some dispute apparently about the origin of the phrase "winner winner chicken dinner." One of the more common theories is that a chicken dinner in Las Vegas used to cost about $2, the same amount as a typical bet. So you win a bet, you won enough for dinner. Or somebody would bet all they had in hopes to win enough for some food. That sounds kinda like a cross between desperate and degenerate, but there we are.

Let there be no dispute here, though. The new Trader Joe's Chicken Chilaquiles Rojo are an absolute winner.

Proof enough: we had them dinner twice this past week. That's rare for us, especially for a prepackaged item we'd have to buy twice. But Sandy and I enjoyed them so much the first time around, but I was convinced I could make them even better and had to try before writing this review. Not that either of us minded.

The secret for good prep is to actually ignore the directions a little bit and add no extra water. The chilaquiles are a frozen item after all; the ingredients will release enough water on their own while cooking. No need to add extra unless you like yours on the soupy side.

Regardless, these taste friggerin' delicious. There's loads of beans, onions and peppers with an almost adequate-enough amount of chicken simmering in a not-all-that spicy tomato based sauce. Seriously, don't assume they're too spicy for you - our four year old who's a spice wimp had no issue. Still, there's plenty of taste - a little savory, a little smoky, the teeniest amount of heat. There's just some depth here.

Add in the included tortilla chips to soak up some of the liquid, and sprinkle a little cotija cheese atop. The chips definitely help fill out the meal, and the cotija adds a little sourish pungent touch that works well with the overall vibe of the dish. Think of it like a bowl of nachos with chili or super thick chunky salsa, and add some guac or some sour cream. We also put a hard fried egg atop ours per the serving suggestions - delicious.

The chilaquiles rojo aren't perfect though. Primarily, it's the serving sizes. Sandy is superstrict about serving sizes. We didn't measure, but there's no way each bag has 2.5 servings. Unless we're absolute hogs, because both times we made them we made two bags and had no problems or remorse about eating the entire supposed five servings between us. Also, as slightly hinted at, there could be a few more bites chicken included.

Other than that, we're talking near perfection here. For about $3 or $4 a bag, the chilaquiles are repeat buy worthy again and again. You can bet on it.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Chicken Chilaquiles Rojo: 9 out of 10 Golden Spoons