Trader Joe's Just the Clusters Chocolate Almond Granola Cereal

I used to get on really big cereal kicks where I'd eat the stuff every morning for breakfast. I mean, sometimes for years on end, I was just into cereal. Then for a while I'd move on to something else like donuts, or oatmeal, or yogurt. I've even been that guy that would eat Doritos and Mountain Dew at seven o'clock in the morning on occasion. And yes, if it was the weekend, or if I called in sick to work, I'd spend the morning playing video games. There's not much else you can legitimately do if you choose Mountain Dew and Doritos for breakfast. 

I can't handle the HFCS anymore, so I haven't done that in a while. But also, oddly, I haven't been on any major cereal kicks lately. I feel like ever since I've been married to Sonia, for some reason, every time I've felt like cereal, we either have none on hand, or we don't have any milk in the fridge. Once a month or so, all the stars will align and I'll actually feel like eating cereal and we'll have all the necessary elements to prepare a bowl. Such an alignment occurred just yesterday.

Opening the bag of Trader Joe's Chocolate Almond Granola Cereal, there's a pleasant whiff of chocolatey goodness. It's reminiscent of Cocoa Pebbles, but not quite as ricey or sweet, and perhaps a tad richer. 

The granola chunks are the perfect size for a cereal—not too big, not too small. There's a fair amount of almond slivers, too, although I don't think a significant boost in that department would have been outrageous. Even doubling the presence of the almonds couldn't have hurt in my humble opinion. Fortunately, the granola is pretty decent on its own.

Like the smell, the flavor is chocolatey and sweet. It's not over the top sugary, though. The chocolate is satisfying and errs on the side of rich cocoa rather than chocolate candy. It's just strong enough to taste like a flavorful treat without completely overshadowing the nuttiness of the almonds. The granola and nuts are both crunchy, even after a prolonged period of submersion. 

The granola dyes the milk nice and brown by the end of the bowl and yields wonderfully chuggable chocolate milk. In a way, I think I enjoy the residual liquid in the bowl more than the cereal itself, although I'm thinking I'll reach for this box again tomorrow. If by some chance we wind up having this stuff on hand regularly, as well as some cold milk, I just might wind back up on a lengthy cereal kick.

$3.49 for the box. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings

Comfort.

What brings you comfort?

There's a lot of ways to answer this, of course, and there's even a few ways I can answer this right at the time of writing. I'm sipping on a cold beer, which almost always seems right, and listening to a Facebook Live concert from the lead singer of my favorite local band, called Good Brother Earl. I think I first saw them back in about 2003 or 2004 and, no lie, a few hundred times. Helps they used to play at the Pittsburgh Rock Bottom on Wednesday nights, no cover, with $2 beers and half price appetizers. Since corporate pulled the plug on their shows about 7 years ago, after at least a five year run, I haven't been back.

But anyways, through the many stages and changes in my life over the past 15-plus years, their music has been a constant. Jeff, the singer, has been a good friend as well. And in these times, I'm thankful that he and his band's music is continuing to be that constant that they have been.

Long, not entirely connected lead up to a review about the new Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings, eh? Sorry, couldn't think of much better. It's that beer I'm telling you.

But food brings comfort, right? And what's more comfort-in-edible form than a warm soup dumpling? I can't think of much.  So there ya go.

Find 'em in the freezer section, bring 'em home, steam 'em up, chow 'em down. These dumplings are pretty darn good. There's the soft, typical noodle shell holding the whole thing together. Inside, of course, is a light broth and the pork/ginger/whatever else filling. The meat itself is mild, soft and a bit crumbly, like a meatball bent on falling apart. That's not a bad thing. There's not more than a mildly aggressive hit of ginger - there's nothing near the searing bite ginger is capable of. It's more a soft warmth feel, and is complemented nicely by a little soy and garlic.

It'd be great if it ended there. But nah.

Instead, right at the end, this sweetness kicks in. At first I thought maybe it was some soy sauce trickery, but no. It's too cloying. It's got to be added sugar. Why would you add sugar to this? Makes no sense to me, not with flavor profile. We're going for savory here. Why sugar? Can't be sugar. Nah. Let's just go check the ingredients, I'm making this up...

Nope. Added sugar. As confirmed by the ingredient list and nutrition label. WHY???

Fortunately all the good flavor business in the front makes up pretty well for the lame wannabe sweet party in the back, but still, it's a knock. Would be much better without IMHO.

Otherwise, great dumplings, bordering on being down right umamilicious. That's not a word but it shoukd be. Umami + delicious = umamilicious. Say it aloud. It's fun. There's absolutely a comfort element at work, and in these times that's not a bad thing at all. My lovely bride, our squad of shorties and I all enjoyed them pretty well, and will likely pick up again soon, even with my faint quibbles.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Steamed Pork & Ginger Soup Dumplings: 7 out of 10 Golden Spoons

Trader Joe's Brioche French Toast

Sonia and I have been working remotely since before our full-time travel days, and long before the covid-19 craziness. In fact, we've both worked from home since late 2016, in my case significantly longer than that.

We learned quickly that the whole "stay in your pajamas all day because you can" philosophy has a few distinct weaknesses attached to it, number one being weight gain. It's just too easy to think, "Ah my sweatpants fit me the same as they did yesterday. I'm not putting on any pounds." Throw on some jeans or khakis, and they'll tell you a different story. "Hmm. I must have left these in the dryer too long. And my belt...has obviously shrunk due to an excessive amount of humidity in the air. Yeah, that's it."

So obviously when you're not getting out as much, it's much easier to become... "pleasantly plump" shall we say? What to do? Exercise as often as you can whatever way you can. And watch what you eat. I'm no poster child for fitness these days, but I'm not letting myself go, either. I'm standing my ground in the battle of the bulge. Maybe some food shortages will do us all a bit of good. Or maybe we'll all starve to death. Time will tell.

All that to say that Sonia and I each ate two of these brioche French toast pieces for breakfast yesterday. They're filling enough, so one each might have sufficed, but we were both unusually hungry. And to put it in perspective, two of these incredibly indulgent carb-o-riffic breakfast breads contain fewer calories than a single package of two Pop-Tarts. And which of us has never eaten two Pop-Tarts in one sitting? Let him cast the first stone.

At any rate, Trader Joe's Brioche French Toast is delicious. It's sweet even before you put any syrup on it. There's a distinct eggy flavor, and lots and lots of fluffy white bread.

We made our first two toasts in the oven. They didn't come out as crispy as I thought they might, but not in a bad way. There was a firmness and density to the outer crusty layers of French toast, while the inner layers were super soft and light. The microwave yielded just slightly less delectable textures, with everything winding up just a tad in the direction of "chewy," but still scrumptious. Also, the microwave is 15 minutes faster than the oven, and that's not counting pre-heating time. In each instance, we ate them with butter and maple syrup, and they were amazing.

$3.49 for four thick pieces of scrumptious toast. Four stars a piece.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.