Trader Joe’s Dukkah
Posted: March 26, 2013 Filed under: Condiments, Nuts, Spices, Trader Joe's Brand, Vegetarian 14 CommentsTrader Joe’s Dukkah is a brilliant new introduction to the American food lexicon – a delicious addition to otherwise tasty bread and, more than that, a party in a jar.
Dukkah, or “duqqa” as it is more commonly spelled, is an originally Egyptian side dish made, simply, from a mixture of herbs, nuts and spices for dipping bread in. Word has it that this tasty hors d’oeuvre is all but ubiquitous in Cairo and beyond. The geo-politcal climate being what it is – I’m content to take their word for it.
Dukkah, takes it’s name from the Arabic word for “to pound”, taken from the simple process of making dukkah – just jamming a bunch of tasty spices and nuts together. Traditional dukkahs, as you may expect from such a folk recipe, vary widely in composition. Trader Joe’s take on it is a combination of crush almond, fennel, anise and sesame seeds, plus coriander and salt. I’m sure this may raise some more traditional dukkah lover’s eyebrows, but I couldn’t be happier with this flavorful, exotic mix.
The product label is helpfully emblazoned with the instructions, “Take a hunk of crusty bread, dip it in olive oil and then in DUKKAH”, which was straightforward enough for me. I decided to engaged my jar of dukkah with a loaf of Trader Joe’s Kalamata Olive bread, figuring it was both crusty enough and small enough to fit into my cluttered, tiny kitchen. Also, hey, it’s got olives in it, so yum yum. I prepared a little dish of olive oil, opened my aromatic jar of Egyptian bread topper, and dunked the dukkah out of my bread. Was it good? Friend, it was absolutely great.
Now before I get carried away with unalloyed praise, let’s get the facts straight. A nice crusty bread is damn good in it’s own right, and dunking said bread in some cold-pressed, extra virgin olive oil? You can’t really go wrong. The immediate question is how much enjoyment did the the dukkah lend to this simple banquet? The straight answer is – a great deal.
Dukkah is like having a delicious new tool in your meal tool box. Hit bread with some savory olive oil and that’s good, add to that a splash of tangy balsamic vinegar and that’s better, follow that with some nutty, crunchy, spicy dukkah and you’ve just added a whole new dimension to your meal. And while the taste is nice in and of itself, the crunch is really the selling point here, making a mouthful of sopping bread even more of a pleasure to work on.
That said, this spice mixture might not be for everyone. Anise is a strong flavor, commonly identified with black licorice, and while it’s presence in Trader Joe’s Dukkah is not overwhelming it certainly in noticeable. If you’re interested in giving yourself over to an exotic taste for a new way to enjoy bread, go for the dukkah, but if you’ve never warmed up to black licorice you might consider giving it a miss. Either that, or consider whipping up your own batch. Dukkah amounts to little more than a dry mix of crushed nuts, spices and a little salt. Making your own is as easy as taking a walk down the dry goods aisle of your supermarket. Want to substitute salt and anise for rosemary and black pepper? Why not? You can find one alternate recipe here and others all across the web.
Taste aside, dukkah has a lot to offer. It’s a very easy addition to the table – a casual condiment that can be dabbed in or done without as the mood dictates. It also fits easily into parties, allowing simple, tasty snacking for a whole room with just one simply jar. Of all the wonders of dukkah, most incredible is how many servings you’ll get out of this one $2.99 container. With a price that low, consider throwing one in your cart next time and forgetting about it in the cabinet until company comes over.
The Breakdown:
Would I Recommend It: If you like bread and don’t hate anise, go for it.
Would I Buy It Again: As soon as this jar runs out (so not for a while).
Final Synopsis: Why has it taken me so long to hear of this stuff?
Trader Joe’s Quince Paste
Posted: March 14, 2013 Filed under: Condiments, Jelly, Jam, etc, Quince, Trader Joe's Brand | Tags: paste, Quince 8 CommentsWhat is quince? And what, really, is paste? These are two questions I found myself wrestling with as I held Trader Joe’s Quince Paste in my hand. Some serious research would have to be done, that I was sure of, but would it all be worth it in the end? With my trademark, devil-may-care laugh I tossed the quince paste into my basket and checked out – ready, as always, to gamble on a reckless impulse. If only I knew then what I know now – that I’d just been duped into buying an inferior product!
Trader Joe’s Quince Paste was so prettily packaged, hanging on the rack like a pack of new cards, and so exotically named (not jelly, not jam – but paste) that I just had to go for it. The package screams decadent exoticism – quince! Imported for New Zealand! Perfect compliment to artisanal cheese! I was unbearably excited to get it home, sit down with my block of Trader Joe’s Quintupled English Cheese and try it out. You, my good friend, need not get so excited yourself.
The quince paste is little more than a rather ordinary slab of jelly in unusual packaging. Paste, to me, calls to mind a thick, heavily textured spread – tomato paste, for instance, or bean paste, or a nice liver paté. This is just a jelly, maybe a bit thicker than ordinary jelly – a little bit – , but still just jelly.
So that’s illusion number one popped. If you’re looking for an exotic paste, don’t get this, because it’s gelatinous and jiggly and just a mundane, regular jelly.
But it’s still quince, right? Exotic quince, brought to us from far off shores? The fabled quince of legend – that Adam and Eve are rumored to have eaten ‘ere the fall? The fruit rumored to possess a sweet, intense aroma reminiscent of pineapple, guava, pear and vanilla all at once? The flesh of which is all but inedible while raw, but which transumtes to a sweet, translucent pink when cooked? That quince?
The very same. I’ve never had quince before – all the above has come to me by rumor, hearsay and Wikipedia articles – but this, I can tell you, does not live up to the legend. Trader Joe’s Quince Paste is so thoroughly processed and sugared up that it has lost any of it’s innate character. It just tastes sweet, with some faint fruity undertone that isn’t strong enough or distinct enough that you could put any sort of name to it.
I was forced to put my block of fine cheese down, disappointed. Quince paste isn’t a bad jelly, but it isn’t any more than a jelly, a jelly just like any other. If I had the dollars back, I’d spend it on a different, more interesting condiment, or at least a larger jar of some other regular jam. As it stands, if you buy Trader Joe’s Quince Paste you’ll have to be wowed by the exotic name alone – the product simply doesn’t do it.
The Breakdown:
Would I Recommend It: There’s nothing really to recommend it by.
Would I Buy It Again: Not while fine jellies, jams and preserves are available.
Final Synopsis: Try out a different jelly before bothering with this lackluster spread.
Trader Joe’s PB&J Milk Chocolate Bar
Posted: February 28, 2013 Filed under: Candy, Chocolate, Peanut Butter, Snacks, Trader Joe's Brand | Tags: jelly, milk chocolate, PB&J, Peanut Butter Leave a commentLet’s talk wonder.
As a fully-functional adult, I assumed my soul had been successfully numbed to the tingle of effervescent wonder I experienced as a child. It was much to my surprise then that I found myself gob-smacked, properly gob-smacked, when I walked into the Wonka Candy Company’s flagship store in downtown Los Angeles the other night and discovered a glittering, whimsical showroom torn straight from the pages of childhood fantasy.
Elaborately waistcoated chocolateurs glided about between ornate candy displays, curtains of heavy purple velvet, and delicate confections that looked more like art than candy. Clearly a well researched decree from the marketing department had lead a team of skilled Imagineers, or even Visioneers, to design room said room for the explicit purpose of actually induce levity in adults. Well done, corporate America. However, what most stirred the rusty ventricles of my full-grown, deadened heart were the glass globes displaying prototype chocolate bars representing the furthermost edge of whimsical chocolate research. Amid the glittering confections and novelties sat the Peanut Butter and Jelly Chocolate Bar – an innovation that struck me as being as brilliant as it was outré.
“The market will never be persuaded to adopt it!” I declared to the world at large, so stunned was I by the audacity of the thing, so sure I would never see it in any normal store.
Reader, you might well imagine my surprise when just this last week, as I meandered through my local TJ’s, my roving eye chanced to fall upon Trader Joe’s own Peanut Butter and Jelly Milk Chocolate bar. Shocked? I practically dumped in my pants.
So I bought one. And how was it? It was…good. Kind of. The thing about this particular chocolate bar, whimsy aside, is that there’s not a whole lot of alchemy going on. The bar doesn’t synergize into something more than the sum of it’s parts – it’s exactly the sum of it’s parts and no more. The milk chocolate tastes like milk chocolate, the peanut butter tastes like peanut butter, and the raspberry jelly tastes like reasperry jelly. End of story.
The bar is well put together certainly. The peanut butter and jelly are layered in discrete, unmingled layers just beneath a thin sheath of chocolate. Both condiments run the whole length of the bar in equal proportion ensuring each bite delivers an equal mix of all three ingredients. And while that’s good, it’s still not great.
Part of the issue is that the PB&J, in being kept so totally unmixed, taste just like the PB&J you had in so many sandwiches as a youngster. Now peanut butter is good and jelly is a fine condiment as well – but have you sat down to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich lately? Make yourself one today. Use some Jif peanut butter and some Welch’s raspberry jelly. Take a bite, tell me what you think. Not bad, right? But not exactly great either. Not something you’re going to rave about.
It’s a noble feat, delivering such a whimsical chocolate bar to store shelves, but not a resoundingly successful one. The bar is passably good, but uninspired. Trader Joe’s does great chocolate, they do some great peanut butter and peanut butter replacements. Perhaps if this bar had been formulated with some more exquisite ingredients it would be more than just a novelty candy bar.
Perhaps it’s my deadened adult heart. Perhaps it’s that the child in me to that once so loved PB&J sandwiches has been defeated by spreadsheets and traffic jams. Or perhaps I have grown up and moved onto bigger and better things. In either case, this whimsical bar doesn’t justify a second purchase.
Would I Recommend It: If you’re curious go ahead, but keep your hopes low.
Would I Buy It Again: No sir, I wouldn’t.
Final Synopsis: Might as well spread some Jiff and Welch’s on a Hershey bar.
Wonder Natural Foods – Better’n Peanut Butter, Low Sodium
Posted: December 8, 2012 Filed under: Condiments, Peanut Butter | Tags: Peanut Butter 2 Comments
Peanut butter that’s better than peanut butter? How can this be true? Oh no, paradox! PARADOOOOOOOOOX!
The effrontery of an outrageous title has rarely stung so. Better’n peanut butter? I would double italicize that if modern technology allowed it. Let’s ask ourselves, what could possibly be better than peanut butter? Aside, of course, from Cookie Butter, Mango, really good, small-batch organic peanut butters, the love of a good woman, etc.
Okay, so a lot of things are better. But those aren’t fair comparisons. They are the kings of their own circle. Better’n Peanut Butter is putting itself up against the heavy weights of the mass produced big brands – the “PB” in PBn’J. That’s some beloved stuff right there. I mean, seriously, people belove the hell out of their Skippy and Jif. This is what we’re all grew up with for Christ’s sake, talk about locked-in phenomenon, talk about nostalgia value. If you’re going up against that, and you’re coming out the gate with the cocky strut of a name “Better’n Peanut Butter”, you’d better be able to back up that claim.
And guess what, they can. Better’n Peanut Butter is incredibly delicious, delicious in that eye opening sort of way that makes you regret all those years wasted. I can’t say how they’ve done it. My best guess is that an Arthur C. Clarkian Monolith descended among the peanut butter and evolved it to a higher level, or perhaps the lazy bastards at Jif never bothered to try adding tapioca syrup to the crap they’ve been peddling.
Other strange and intriguing ingredients that set this wondrous emollient apart are dehydrated cane juice, rice syrup, and annatto. Do these ingredients put you off of this product? Do you think you will never leave a brand like Skippy that is basically nothing but peanuts, sugar and oil? Than there is no hope for you in this big crazy world. Did I mention that Better’n Peanut Butter has 85% less fat, 40% less calories than leading brands, is all natural and preservative free? Because it does.
There’s nothing else I can really say at this point and, in fact, the will to do so is fading. I believe I will help myself to some more of that luscious creamy spread.
Would I Recommend It: Dear god, yes.
Would I But It Again: I’ll never stop buying it.
Final Synopsis: Peanut butter that’s better than peanut butter. ’nuff said.
Trader Joe’s Organic Tomatillo & Roasted Yellow Chili Salsa
Posted: September 27, 2011 Filed under: Condiments, Salsa, Trader Joe's Brand | Tags: Organic, Salsa, Tomatillo, Trader Joe's Brand 3 CommentsThis little pot of salsa enticed me with it’s name. Most any time a food product puts three or more adjectives in it’s title, I can’t help but be enticed by it’s purported charms. Sometimes this works out, but far from always. Today I was unable to resist, and sat down to give it a shot.
The packaging proclaims that it has a mild zesty flavor, and it very much does so. It’s a tremendously mild salsa, a bit more burn than our papaya-mango medley, but not by miles or anything. This is a very fluidy salsa, without even chunks of onion or pepper to mix things up. The packaging also pitches the salsa as a potential “spread”, and it could certainly go over your bread without much trouble. Is it worth the effort though? There was one taste in particular I kept being brought back to as I supped my way though this slurpy sauce – the Spaghetti-O’s of my youth. Between the loose, tomato-puree base of the salsa, and the somewhat tangy, somewhat zesty herb choices, my tongue was repeatedly thrown into a flavor flashback. While it wasn’t exactly bad, for me this wasn’t what I was looking for in my salsa, nor what I was expecting from such an elaborately named sauce.
Would I Recommend It: To those in search of a good mild, tangy salsa.
Would I Buy It Again: Not to my liking, thanks.
Final Synopsis: Like the love child of Chef Boyardee and the Chalula Lady
Trader Joe’s Edamame Hummus
Posted: September 24, 2011 Filed under: Condiments, Trader Joe's Brand | Tags: Edamame, Hummus, Trader Joe's Brand 1 CommentI’m a cool enough dude to know what edamame is – it’s Japanese for “delicious & healthy soybean snack” I’m also cool enough to know how to eat them – you squeeze the bean pod between thumb and forefinger and the slippery little bean pops into your mouth in the most satisfactory way possible. What I guess I wasn’t cool enough to know was that you can make hummus out of things other than garbanzo beans. In all seriousness, the second I saw this thing my brain did a little freak out flip in my skull. Who knew these two foods, Japanese Soybeans and Middle Eastern Hummus, intersected? I, for one, did not see this ven diagram coming.
Hummus, it turns out, can be made from basically any legume – it’s just that the chickpea is has just been the solid go to bean for the last 7,000 years or so. In the mad world of the go-go 21st century, however, hummus has caught on in some non-traditional cultures (ex: America) and they’ve decided to make some non-traditional hummus. The range of hummus is actually startling, and includes such variations as black bean hummus and pumpkin hummus. Swear to god. Check ‘em out.
While I can’t speak for it’s bros above, edamame hummus is a delicious treat. What makes it so good? The fact that it tastes exactly like any other hummus. To my ordinary palate at least. Try as I might to savor the flavor across numerous mediums, I could not detect any difference in taste between the edamame and the garbanzo other than it’s cool greenish hue. I’d imagine that there are hummus aficionados out there who are doing a comical spit take at such a bourgeoisie sentiment, but as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason to buy this hummus over your existing preferred brand unless, that is, you really get a kick out of stylish, art noveau-esque packaging which, in this case, is really top notch.
Would I Recommend It: Only if you love hummus but hate chickpeas.
Would I Buy It Again: I’ll stick with my Sabra, thanks.
Final Synopsis: Cool to say, ordinary to eat.
Trader Joe’s Mango and Papaya Salsa
Posted: September 14, 2011 Filed under: Condiments, Fruit, MANGO!, Trader Joe's Brand | Tags: Condiments, Mango!, Papaya, Salsa, Trader Joe's Brand 2 Comments“Oh, that’s good,” I’m was warned by the helpful Trader Joe’s sample lady on my way to the chek out, “That salsa has a kick to it.”
Whoa, I think, holding it up thoughtfully. Should I put it back? I should probably put it back.
Now I like food. I like basically every type of food, from every corner of the globe, but in this wide field of vision I do have a blind spot. I’m not much of one for spicy foods. I am what is known as, to employ the vernacular, a chilli wuss. Black sheep of my family, I sit aside sipping mild broth those days when glowing-red bowls of south-asian or mexican cusine are on the table. I love salsa so dearly it’s hard to convey in words, but only if it’s below a certain acceptable level of hotness. Salsa with “kick” is definitely well above that level. In any other case, I probably would have put it back – but it was a mango product, and seeing as how I’m in the middle of a sort of unoffical mango week I just couldn’t put it down.
I needn’t have worried – the Helpful Sample Lady, helpful though she was, was also either badly misguided or engaging in some sort of macho mind game with me. This salsa is unequivocably the mildest salsa I have ever tasted. There is only the faintest spark of a spice hidden somewhere inside the fruit medley of the product – a small and harmless old man sort of spiciness, just popping it’s head in the door to wheeze a gentle hello. I couldn’t have been more delighted.
In addition to it’s extra-mild taste, this product pushes the very definition of what salsa is. The salsa lacks tomatoes entirely, substituting them out for the juicy and subtly sweet titular fruits. There is a wee bit of onion and chili added to the mix, but that’s about it. The salsa is so chunky that it’s more of an extra chunky pico de gallo than anything. Basically the only thing “salsa” like in this salsa’s nature is the fact that it is a “sauce”. With a slight recipe change this product could easily become a fruit desert.
Not that that’s a bad thing. I thoroughly enjoyed this purchase for it’s unorthodox take on things you can dig your chip into. I say, bring on the non-tomato based salsas and let’s see what happens.
Would I Recommend It: To mango lovers and salsa lovers alike – just not to spicy salsa lovers.
Would I Buy It Again: Next time I want a tropical fruit based salsa.
Final Synopsis: A delicious, if mild, change of Pace (pun definitely intended)

















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