Trader Joe’s Harvest Salad with Grilled Chicken

Trader Joe's Harvest Salad with Grilled Chicken

See, there’s some chicken right there in the far back corner.

All salads are chock full of vegetables by definition – but Trader Joe’s Harvest Salad really hammers that notion home in a robust new way with this aggressively vegetable laden cud fest. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.

I love a salad that takes the salad formula in strange new directions, like the Artichoke and Hearts of Palm Salad, but I also have a great deal of respect for the classic salad formula pulled off right. Trader Joe’s Harvest Salad with Grilled Chicken is one variation of that classic salad formula, huge hearty salad where the sheer robust presence of veggies completely eclipses the meat. It’s the perfect palette cleansing salad – a return to the roots of what a salad is meant to be: huge mouthfuls of hearty, filling veggies served on a thick bed of lettuce. Which isn’t to say the salad is so straight laced that it doesn’t dabble in absurdity. Case in point, the huge, uncut green beans laid out front and center on top of the whole shebang. “Are we really supposed to eat these?” and  “Why did Trader Joe’s do this?” are a couple of the reasonable questions you’ll immediate ask yourself. It’s not like Trader Joe’s doesn’t have sliced green beans. We know you have those, Joe.  No, these green beans are here on purpose, to convey a message – and that message is that you’re going to need a knife just to eat the vegetables in this salad. It’s boldness and simplicity intertwined – a masterful representation of Trader Joe’s high salad artistry.

The “eat your veggies” message is further hammered home by the choice of a creamy dijon dressing. Dijon? Certainly. Creamy? Not so much. It’s a fairly loose dressing actually, more like a vinaigrette than a heavy sauce and, more importantly, the acerbic dijon works like a vinaigrette, accenting and highlighting the chewy greenery instead of obscuring their flavor under thick, overpowering emollients.

To be sure, there are non-vegetable elements in this salad, the titular chicken, along with some cubes of white cheddar cheese and half a boiled egg, and it’s these touches that make the salad work. Vegetables for vegetables sake can quickly become boring – but the charbroiled taste of the chicken meat and thick cubes of cheese break up the homogeneity with sudden bursts of fatty flavor.

In all in all, it’s very well done – but that’s not to say it’s a must buy. Trader Joe’s put this salad together with one point in mind, to remind you about vegetables. If you’ve forgotten about vegetables, you’re sure as hell going to remember them as you sit idly chewing on a big mouthful of corn kernels and green beans, really tasting those flavors at their most basic. And while that’s an important message, it has its time and place.  If you remember vegetables quite well already and enjoy them frequently in your day to day life, you might appreciate one of Trader Joe’s more subtle or unusual salad over this bruiser. If, on the other hand, you need a palette cleanser, a vegetable side dish, or simply want to wipe the slate clean after a long sojourn among fast food, you couldn’t do better. As daily meal in itself, however, you might find that this salad tends to side a little too closely with the roughage.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Yes, this is a fundamentally good salad.

Would I Buy It Again: Yes, the next time a need a simple, serviceable side salad.

Final Synopsis: A hearty garden salad that highlights the vegetables.

Trader Joe's Harvest Salad with Grilled Chicken - nutrition facts

Trader Joe’s Harvest Salad with Grilled Chicken – Nutrition Facts


Trader Joe’s Chickenless Crispy Tenders

Trader Joe's Chickenless Crispy Tenders

I wanted to include more of the tenders in this pic, but I accidentally ate a bunch of them.

I’ve got to hand it to Trader Joe’s Chickenless Crispy Tenders – they’re some of the best fake meat I’ve had to date. I’ve commented before on the common pitfalls of vegetarian cuisine attempting to ape meat instead of just doing its own thing. Usually this ends in a painfully tortured product name that attempts to acknowledge that it’s totally vegetarian but tastes just like meat, wink wink. (cf. Tofurkey). Generally this is an outrageous lie, or, more generously, extremely wishful thinking by a meat-starved demographic.

            I’ve already expounded on my metaphysical sympathy for vegetarians. I can support the cause – I advocate the idea of abstaining from meat, and would do so myself if only my intensely bon vivant lifestyle would allow for it. Nevertheless, like the soy creamy ice cream substitute before it, I bought some crispy chickenless teneder because I needed a non-meat alternative for my (one) vegan friend. As fate would have it, I accidentally forgot to cook them in time for the meal, she ended up having nothing, and I was left with these chickenless tenders until tonight, when continued poor planning left me with nothing else in the house to eat.

            Fortunately, Trader Joe’s Chickenless Tenders are not just edible, but downright tasty. They actually taste more or less like chicken tenders. How close? Close enough you could probably fool an unwary guest if you served them up without fanfare. There is still that tell-tale aftertaste of “soy-ness” that hangs around, but it’s pretty mild and is more or less totally cloaked by whatever dipping sauces or dressings you’re going to be ingesting the chicken tenders with. The only strange part is that the strips have been “breaded” in a variety of oats and flours that result in a crumbly, quasi breading that’s generally inferior to ordinary breading. The reason for this substitution, I cannot quite fathom.

 TJ’s has managed to capture not just the taste, but also the texture of breaded chicken strips. The tenders are precisely that, coming out of the oven tender, moist, and just toothsome enough to give you a nice balance between chewy and yielding. They even pull apart more or less like real chicken, which is a difficult feat to accomplish when your medium is soy protein isolate.

            How did TJ’s manage such a thing? I have no idea, but apparently it involves a large number of strange sounding, if allegedly natural, ingredients.

 Water, soy protein isolate, and canola oil make up the first three ingredients, naturally enough. It might seem unusual that oil is ingredient #3, but remember that these are oven-baked “chicken” fingers we’re talking about. Like fish and or shrimp nuggets, when you take them out of the oven you’re going to be picking them up out of a little pool of their own oil.

 After these three ingredients things get a little crazy. Pea protein pops up in a prominent position. Are peas known for their protein? Is it possible to tell someone, out loud, that your food has a lot of pea protein in it and not make it sound like an unspeakable form of bio-waste recycling? Not as far as I’m concerned.

After that we get into the ancient grain flours – including quinoa (natch), millet, and everyone’s favorite, amaranth. Rounding all that out is a good helping of Kamut®. “What the hell is Kamut®, and why is it trademarked?” is the very reasonable question you might be asking yourself right now. We’ll have to save that can of worms for another day, but the short answer is it’s a proprietary form of ancient wheat known as Khorasan wheat, originally from round about Afghanistan and nowadays lorded over by two Montana farmers.  Also there’s beet root fiber in the tenders.

  Somehow, in the end, all of this comes together to make strangely delicious vegan chicken tenders, with only thrice the fat of regular chicken tenders. For me it’s less important how it all works out, then the fact that it does. They might not replace regular, flesh and blood chicken in my life, but it’s good to know there’s a good back up option should it ever come to it.


 The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: I would, if you’re a vegan/vegetarian.

Would I Buy It Again: This seems like a good fit for Meatless Monday.

Final Synopsis: Eerily good vegan chicken tenders.

Trader Joe's Chickenless Crispy Tenders - Nutrtion Facts

Trader Joe’s Chickenless Crispy Tenders – Nutrtion Facts


Trader Joe’s Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices – Unsweetned & Unsulfured

Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices

Even better than the look on the package.

It’s time again to turn our attention to Trader Joe’s freeze dried produce section – with Trader Joe’s Freeze Dried Fuji Apples. We’ve seen considerable range in Trader Joe’s dessicated produce, from freeze dried grapes to dehydrated kimchi to vacuum fried banana chips. It would appear that Trader Joe’s has never met a piece of produce they didn’t want to turn into a dry, crunchy snack.

These apple slices appealed to me immediately because they entomb, for perpituity, my favorite apple, the glorious Fuji. So much better than mundane Red Delicious or unexceptional Gala, the Fuji is invariably dense, sweet and crisp – a thoroughly delicious apple that satisfies to the final bite. I can still remember my first bewitching bite of a Fuji apple to this day, as sweet as an illicit kiss on a rainy summer afternoon.

Fuji apples are, as you might imagine, quintessentially Japanese – originating in the far northern province of Aomori back in the 1960’s and taking the world by storm. The secret the Fuji hides, however, is that it is actually the result of cross-breeding two American apples – the ubiquitous Red Delicious and the lesser known Virginia Ralls Genet. These two strains were first genetically collided at an agricultural research center in the town of Fujisaki in the 1930’s. The apple subsequently took the name of the town as its own and never looked back. Whether out of a sense of national pride or, more probably, simple good taste, the Japanese have embraced the Fuji apple on a massive scale. 900,000 tons of the apples tumble out of northern Japan into grocery stores across the country every year, utterly eclipsing the sales of all other apple cultivars. Here in the states, the Fuji has yet to catch on so dramatically. It ranks fourth in popularity, behind the Red Delicious, Golden Delicious and, shockingly, the Gala. Wake up America – there are better apples out there!

The same qualities that the Japanese and myself admire in the Fuji apple – the sweetness and crispness – are the same qualities that make it such a good candidate for freeze drying. Like most fruits, the apple is nearly all water. The act of sucking the water out (or in this case, flash sublimating) is tremendously violent the apple itself, and hard to do without turning your apple slices into something squat and unrecognizable. The firm, crisp quality of the Fuji apple helps retain the shape of the slices, and it’s sweetness means that the apple’s whole, crisp and sweet taste is better preserved than it might be in lesser fruits. This is all the more impressive considering that these apple slices are unsweetened and unsulfured. These steps are usually taken to keep the dehydrated fruit looking and tasting something more or less like they do on the branch. The Fujis are simply so good that neither additive is necessary in the first place.

Trader Joe’s Freeze Dried Fuji Apples are entirely delicious. Each slice is perfectly preserved in miniature, and bursts with sweet apple flavor as soon as you snap into its dry, airy form. While the taste is there, I’m left wondering how exactly one is meant best to enjoy them. They can be casually snacked on, like chips, but the 1.2 ounces of apple in the bag doesn’t last very long, even if the $2.99 price tag does justify the purchase. Trader Joe’s suggests tossing them on a salad or putting them in a trail mix, both of which seem reasonable within limits. The apples very sweet and might easily replace dried cranberries, although at a much higher price per ounce. Trail mix certainly couldn’t be a more natural fit – and I’ll consider including adding it in the next three or four times this decade that I have a reason to make trail mix.

Trader Joe’s final suggestion, to throw them on your cereal or oatmeal seems like the best idea, and probably the easiest way to incorporate these tasty little guys into you life. If for no other reason, pick a bag of these up to experience the Fuji apple in a whole new way.


 

The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Sure, if you can think of a way to eat them.

Would I Buy Them Again: I don’t buy a lot of dried fruit, but I’d probably get these guys again anyway.

Final Synopsis: A fresh new way to eat delicious Fuji apples.

 

Trader Joe's Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices - Nutrition Facts

Trader Joe’s Freeze Dried Fuji Apple Slices – Nutrition Facts


Trader Joe’s Coffeehaus European Style Low Fat Yogurt – Mocha and Chocolate flavors

Trader Joe's Coffeehaus Lowfat Yogurt

Possibly the most unwieldy name Trader Joe’s has unveiled to date. I’m not even sure I’ve got it right.

Tangy coffee – do you like it? If you can answer that one question for yourself, there will be no need to read the rest of this post about Trader Joe’s Coffeehaus “European style” low fat yogurts. I will repeat it once again – do you like the taste of tangy coffee?

Very probably you have never had tangy coffee before, you might be confused by these words – angered by them even. No problem, friend. Just relax, sit back, close your eyes… and imagine. Imagine sipping a cup of coffee, imagine that unmistakable coffee aftertaste, that bold, full-roast dark coffee flavor that sits on the tongue like burnt toast. Now imagine it’s also real tangy. Tangy like a glass of Tropicana orange drink. Tangy, tangy coffee, sitting on your tongue, and also it’s cold. Do you like that idea?

If you’ve said yes, hold on tight because we are going to get into this. If, and I’m guessing this is more likely, you said no then you can feel free to navigate away from this browser tab right now. You sir, will not like Trader Joe’s Coffeehaus yogurts because if there’s one thing they have, it’s a serious tanginess.

Let’s unspool this for a moment. There’s about five different things going on in the name of this product alone, and it could do with a little unpacking before we start laying into if I, personally, enjoyed this thing or not.

To begin, let’s start with what a “European style” yogurt might be, and why Trader Joe’s feels they need to single that notion out for some reason – not just by name, but by packaging, iconography and font as well. How, in fact, is European yogurt different from the Greek yogurts, French yogurts and Swiss yogurts which can all also be found in Trader Joe’s yougurt aisle? The straight forward, if basically uncorrect, answer is that “European style” yogurt is called as such because it isn’t going to sit well with the average American. More specifically, it’s much less firm than standard grocery store yogurt, and much more tangy due to the presence of the many live, active bacteria cultures fermenting it full of lactic acid.

Now, every yogurt in the world is a product of bacteria cultures – that’s just the basic nature of its existence, but it’s not a fact that the big commercial yogurt companies like to play up on TV here in the States. The “now full of more live bacteria colonies than ever before” pitch is just not one that appeals to the standard demographic. As such, the bacterial nature of yogurt has been downplayed to the point where it’s almost totally overlooked. For the same reason, your usual grocery store yogurt varies between “slightly tangy” and “not tangy at all”.

Much more common in the US are the standard, “custard” style yogurts where fruit and thickening agents have been blended into a firm, sugary, low-bacteria yogurt. Confusingly, custard style yogurt can also be called French or Swiss style yogurt, despite the fact that they are much more American than European in sensibility. In fact, real Swiss yogurt (yogurt made by the Swiss in Switzerland) must, by Swiss law, contain a certain minimum number of bacterial colonies to even be considered yogurt.

So, to summarize, by saying “European Style” Trader Joe’s is singling that this is going to be some bacteria-filled, tangy yogurt, and you’d better be ready for that. They are as good as their word as well – each type of their coffeehaus yogurt comes packed with four different live and active cultures: S. thermophillus, L. Bulgaricus, L. Aciodphilus, and Bifidus. I don’t know quite enough about biology to expound on what all the important differences are between these, but I can tell you that you can sure as hell taste them in every tangy, zingy bite.

The other unusual aspect of these European style yogurts are their rather continental flavors. Dannon and Yoplait may have turned every type of cream pie and sherbet into a yogurt flavor, but even they haven’t yet done a straight up mocha or dark chocolate yet. While that might not go over very well in a custard style yogurt, it makes for a very nuanced bite here. The subtle bitterness of the dark chocolate and the mocha both play against the sourness of the yogurt, the tang of the lactic acid and the gentle sweetness of the added sugar. The result is a yogurt that challenges the tongue to a unique flavor experience, not merely a confection of high sugar content sweetness that passes the gums unnoticed.

So do I like tangy coffee? In this case, yes. I’ve had sweet yogurt, and I’ve had unsweetened yogurt, but I’ve never had yogurt that takes a path separate from sweetness all together. Tangy, bitter yogurt is an intriguing development, and one that I could easily see myself enjoying on my classier mornings.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Yes – if you’re willing to give a whole new yogurt experience a chance.

Would I Buy It Again: I’d like to think that I’m just cultured enough to do so.

Final Synopsis: A very tangy, somewhat bitter, somewhat sweet, sophisticated yogurt.

 

Trader Joe's Coffeehaus European Style Lowfat Yogurt - Mocha

Trader Joe’s Coffeehaus European Style Lowfat Yogurt – Mocha

 

 

Trader Joe's Coffeehaus European Style Lowfat Yogurt - Chocolate

Trader Joe’s Coffeehaus European Style Lowfat Yogurt – Chocolate


Trader Joe’s Carrot and Cilantro Bulgur Grain Salad with Tumeric Garbanzo Beans

I may occasionally give Trader Joe’s a real tongue lashing, like I felt compelled to do the other day with their strange and terrible pseudo-salad, but only when the really deserve it, and in any case I like to try and give TJ’s the chance to settle the score. In that spirit, I went out and picked up Trader Joe’s Carrot and Cilantro Bulgur Grain Salad with Tumeric Garbanzo Beans.

As you might gather from the picture, or the long, strange name, this is another entry in Trader Joe’s new line of little grain-salads-in-a-tub, and close cousin to Trader Joe’s underwhelming Nutty Grain Salad.  Surely TJ’s wouldn’t have released two, tiny, grain-based salads unless they had damn good reason to think people would actually enjoy them. They couldn’t both be as bad as the first one I tried, right?

The fact of the matter is that Trader Joe;s Carrot and Cilantro Bulgur Grain Salad is miles better than it’s counterpart in both taste and nutritional content, and I was glad I picked it up. That said, it’s every bit as twisted and insane as the Nutty Grain salad, just on a different axis.

The main thing you’ll probably notice when you pick this salad up is how it is topped with bright yellow chickpeas. Oh, great, you might think – Curry, that’s brilliant. I bet curry could taste really good on a salad like this.  

Only it’s not curry, it’s just tumeric. All the other rich and exotic spices that give curry it’s magical kick – the cardamom, the cumin, the garam masala in general, aren’t present. Just musty old tumeric – wonderful for color, but dull and dusty when it comes to taste. In fact, given the overall taste of the salad the garbanzo beans are a total non-sequiter. I went into this bulgur salad expecting it to taste something like Trader Joe’s Vegetable and Country Grain Salad – one of my all-time favorite TJ’s salads, and place holder on my Best of 2013 list. Instead of the nutty and mellow tastes of that salad, or something that would work well with tumeric, we get the strong flavor of orange juice. Yes, orange juice is the primary flavoring agent in this salad and I swear to god that you can taste it in every bite. This whole salad is infused with the strong zing of not just citrus, but real oranges, real oranges and a hint tumeric.

It’s incredible. Taken back to back with the Nutty Grain salad, it feels like Trader Joe’s has started to curate a small selection of recipes broadcast to it from a parallel universe several degrees separate from our own. “Mmm-boy! Serve me another plate of cooked bulgur and a tall galss of orange juice!” demand the insect-headed denizens of that universe before scuttling off to work in their cities beneath the sea.

The other flavors you’ll experience with this salad are the slightly nutty taste of the bulgur, and the strong, lingering taste of carrots. Surprisingly, the cilantro that gets top billing in the product name is only present as a subtle background touch, emerging mid chew, then vanishing again without a trace.

All in all, this salad tastes more like an orange/carrot juice drink than anything else. In salad form, that makes for a very strange eating experience but not necessarily a bad one. Once I got used to the fact of the thing, I happily munched this salad up. There’s enough texture and chewiness to the dish that it lasts you a surprisingly long time for only eight ounces, and the orange and carrot flavor works together, if not perfectly, than well enough.

The other nice difference between this salad and the Nutty Grain salad is that it has a much more reasonable calorie count. There are only 240 calories per serving, and only a slender 10 calories from fat. There is still a considerable 54 grams load of carbs in the tub, but that’s too be expected from so much grain, and it’s ameliorated somewhat by the 9 grams of fiber in it as well.

Overall, it might be the most unusual salad I’ve ever had – even stranger than the Korean Spicy Seaweed Salad – but isn’t that what we go to Trader Joe’s for? Whether it sort of work out, like today, or misses entirely, like with the Nutty Grain salad, I have to take my hat off to Mr. Joe if for nothing more than his boldness of vision.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Not to the populous at large. This is a unique salad with an unusual taste.

Would I Buy It Again: I don’t think so. It was okay, just not good enough to justify repeat purchases.

Final Synopsis: A small, bulgur salad flavored with orange juice.

Trader Joe's Carrot and Cilantro Bulgur Grain Salad - Nutrition Facts

Trader Joe’s Carrot and Cilantro Bulgur Grain Salad – Nutrition Facts


Trader Joe’s Nutty Grain Salad

 

I don’t have anything to say about Trader Joe’s Nutty Grain Salad that isn’t short and nasty, so I suppose I’d better just get to it. Trader Joe’s should have called this Trader Joe’s Crappy Peanut Bean Thing. Instead they try and tell me it’s a salad and put it next to the good stuff.

Saying that this salad tastes as bad as it looks is not entirely accurate. Obviously, it looks terrible. I’m not sure I’ve seen a mass of soy beans, peanuts, pistachios chunked carrots, and cooked spelt that looks worse than this – and I’m including vomit in that. At least vomit has the effluvium of stomach bile to cloak it’s terrible, true nature. This stuff just sits there in the open, daring you to stare directly its clusters and lumps. Go ahead and try it – see if you can last longer than five seconds, I can’t.

So to say it’s as bad as it looks is implying that it tastes atrocious, which it doesn’t. It tastes worse than that – it tastes bland. There are foods out there that I think look and taste awful which whole cultures have passionate loves for. You’re not really a country, I reckon, unless you have at least one national dish that no one else in the world can stomach. The English have Vegemite, the Scotts have hummus, the Japanese have natto, the Americans have Kraft Singles, etc. What I’m trying to say is, taste is relative, and really intense flavors may alternately repulse and delight, depending on the eater.

Trader Joe’s Nutty Grain Salad, on the other hand, is simply bland and uninteresting. The packaging claims that it is dressed with a soy ginger sauce. This is technically true, but the dressing is present in such cowardly quantities that it contributes almost nothing to the taste, beside rendering the whole mess somewhat squishy. The primary flavor you’ll experience is “soggy nuts”. There’s some nutty tasting quinoa, some peanuts and pistachios. Next to that, the edamame, spelt and carrots don’t really show up much, and when they do it’s only to add an additional dimension of blandness to the whole affair.

I could go on and on about how upset I am at this tiny little tub, but the bulk of my ire is actually reserved for the nutrition labels. Go ahead and flip this tub over, but first set your faces to “stunned”.

Serving size, 1 package. Sure, that seems reasonable. What else. Calories: 590, Calories from fat: 290.

Trader Joe’s, ARE YOU TRIPPIN’, BRO?!?! These numbers are absurd – and the madness goes on. 45% of your daily fat value, 350mg of sodium, 68 grams of carbs.

So essentially, what we have is a tiny little tub of stuff that looks gross, tastes like a more mild version of unsalted peanuts, and contains as much fat as a Big Mac only with more calories. It’s like Trader Joe’s figured out how to remove all the fun and enjoyment from eating fast food. There are entire galaxies of more delicious, healthful and fun meal options out there – many of them right there in the Trader Joe’s salad aisle. Unless you are in desperate need of compact, high calorie food sources (sumo wrestlers, long distance bomber pilots, roving apocalypse survivors) why you would want to go for this instead of literally anything else is beyond me.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: No, not unless you needed the final component for a robot powered by hate.

Would I Buy It Again: Only as a tip off to my loved ones that I’m secretly being coerced by kidnappers.

Final Synopsis: A bland, gross looking pseudo-salad that is bad for you.

Trader Joe's Nutty Grain Salad - Nutrition Facts

Trader Joe’s Nutty Grain Salad – Nutrition Facts

 


Trader Joe’s Organic Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Desert – Vanilla and Cherry Chocolate Chip

Trader Joe's Organic Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Desert - cherry chocolate chip and vanilla

You may ignore the third container behind them. He has no bearing upon this tale.

To be honest, I picked up Trader Joe’s Organic Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Dessert (aka vegan ice cream) because I feel sorry for vegans.

I probably shouldn’t, I know that vegans and vegetarians and pescatarians and whatever all else there is are perfectly capable of looking after themselves, but I still feel sorry for them. It’s a crazy, meat eating world out here in America. If people aren’t spraining their jaws exalting the wonders of bacon, they’re drooling over commercials for monstrous, meat soaked burgers. Occasionally I try and put myself in the shoes of a person who, for reasons of personal ethics or personal health, has chosen not to eat meat.

What if the tables were turned, I sometimes wonder, and was in the minority? What if, for example, 99% of restaurants served dog and dog based dishes? What if TV, print media and the internet were plastered in ads showing people taking loving mouthfuls of hot, roasted dog. What if people not only went on at length about how many delicious puppies they ate last night, but would even go so far as to ridicule me for not eating dogs, and bemoan my stubborn refusal to just give in already and start eating puppies like everyone else.

So yes, I bought all the flavors of Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Desert because I want to morally support my vegan friends (okay…friend) who comes over sometimes. What I was shocked to discover, is that soy based ice cream is great!

I was every bit as surprised as you. As we’ve discussed over “healthy” guacamole and veggie patties, there’s usually a price to pay for healthy and/or vegetarian cuisine. That price is taste. If something is good for you, it doesn’t usually taste very good, and if something is bad for you it generally tastes amazing. That’s the inherent cruelty of life, and strong evidence that the Irish Catholic guilt-based version of God might be the accurate one. TJ’s Soy Creamy completely explodes this model. This vegan, non-dairy, organic, soy-based ice cream is equally as good as it’s dairy based counterpart. In fact, I might actually like it better.

Soy Creamy is just as sweet and creamy as any other grocery store ice cream you’re likely to find, creamier even. I assumed the “creamy” bit in the title was just a throw away marketing line. Not so – this stuff is seriously smooth. Something about the vegan make up of Soy Creamy keeps it from freezing solid in your freezer. We all know that problem, hammering away at the top of an ice-hard lump of caramel ripple, denting up the spoon in an attempt to get out two or three teaspoons worth of ice cream. The vegan ice cream doesn’t have this problem – every spoonful comes out smooth and easy, but still stiff, and melts on the tongue with a full bodied flavor. It strikes the perfect balance between soft-serve and the real stuff.

The flavors are great as well. The vanilla tastes wonderfully rich and  perfectly decadent. A bowl of it will leave every bit as satisfied as any milk based alternative. The cherry chocolate chip was also good, but this has never been my favorite flavor, even in the non-dairy world. The combination of chocolate chunks and mild cherry flavor doesn’t work any better as a vegan dish, leaving me equally nonplussed.

The only thing I can imagine that might put people off of Trader Joe’s Soy Creamy is that the aftertaste is different from the aftertaste of dairy based ice cream. You might notice a mild aftertaste of beans a few minutes after finishing off a bowl. Is that a bad thing? I suppose that depends on how you feel about the taste of edamame. For my count, I found it mild enough to right it off entirely. Plus, it’s more than compensated for by the healthy nutrtional profile.

In addition to being totally organic, which it is, the soy cream also has less fat and fewer calories per serving. Trader Joe’s French Vanilla Ice Cream, for example, has 260 calories and 16 grams of fat per serving – compared to the 180 calories and 8 grams of fat in the Vanilla Soy Creamy. Even if you have trouble grappling with the concept of a non-dairy ice cream, the calorie count couldn’t be a more eloquent argument in it’s favor. Eat twice as much for the same amount of calories? I’m on board.

So yeah, I like it. In fact, with the summer coming around the corner I’m libel to buy a lot more. In fact, I might even start buying this exclusively whenever I have a hankering for chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Am I crazy? Arguably, but you’ll just have to try some and find out.


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Yes, this is your go to organic ice cream, so or not.

Would I Buy It Again: I may never go back to dairy ice cream.

Final Synopsis: Vegan ice cream that as good as the real thing.

Trader Joe's Organic Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Desert - cherry chocolate chip and vanilla nutrtion facts

Trader Joe’s Organic Soy Creamy Non-Dairy Frozen Desert – cherry chocolate chip and vanilla nutrtion facts


No post today due to work meltdown

Oh dear, there’ s no post today because of an internet catastrophe at my place of work. No one is more upset than me about this.

Come back tomorrow for the post you crave!

 

-D.C.


Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Chunky Guacamole

Trader Joe's Reduced Guilt Guacamole

A guacamole that’s as Greek as it is Hispanic.

“Reduced Guilt”, as in Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Chunky Guacamole, is one of those phrases that are a little too marketing-y for me. What does that really mean, “reduced-guilt”? We all just want to enjoy ourselves in life, right? If you’re like me, that means repressing and/or ignoring the constant nagging feeling of guilt that would otherwise hound you at all moments, threatening to drag you down the muddy hill of self-loathing into the murky bogs of depression. Free-floating guilt, we all got it – do we really need Trader Joe insinuating it into our lives even here, in the vegetable aisle?

Here I was, in danger of feeling pretty good about myself for a moment, putting a bag of  shredded carrots into my cart, making positive decisions and following a healthy path! Except, oh man, there’s the Reduced-Guilt Guacamole. “Reduced-guilt” because consuming calories induce guilt, and guacamole has a lot of them. Ergo, eating this guacamole means I don’t have to feel as bad about myself. Hooray!

Except, wait – doesn’t everything have calories? Even my bag of carrot shreds? And I have to eat calories to live… but eating calories induce guilt… and, oh no, I’m never going to win ever am I? Sure, I can reduce guilt – but never eliminate it. Never escape the inherent guilt of calories. Never escape the vicious cycle of consumption and loss until, at last, death claims me. And there I am again, down in the bogs of depression.

Thanks a lot Trader Joe’s.

Assuming you made it this far in this post, or have a healthier sense of self-worth than I do, you’re probably wondering a couple things about this guacamole. For one, you’re probably wondering if “reduced guilt” in this case is actually a synonym for “bad tasting”. Unfortunately, the answer is yes. That said, I feel we have to judge these sort of “healthy option” food products on a curve.

We all know that the healthy option isn’t going to taste as good as the real, full calorie, thing. The question is, does the healthy option hit that sweet spot of tasting good enough for how few calories it has? A little while ago we saw Trader Joe’s Fat Free Brownies undergo this test. Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Chunky Guacamole does a little better, not because it tastes all that good, but because it’s a really damn healthy option. Each 1 oz serving of this guacamole contains only 30 calories and 2 grams of fat. That’s 40% fewer calories, and 50% less fat than Trader Joe’s Avacado’s Number Guacamole.

With half the calories, does that mean it only tastes half as good? Yes, actually – that’s a pretty good description of this stuff. This low fat version of guacamole definitely lacks the full-bodied flavor and punch of a regular guac.

When you take a dip of it, it starts to taste good but then stops about half way, leaving a vague sense of dissatisfaction. On the other hand, it manages to match the creaminess of regular guac and is just as filling to snack on. That’s not bad for a diet food, where managing to come out even is practically a win.

To put it another way, for a low calorie dip this stuff is pretty good, but for guacamole it doesn’t really pass snuff. A big part of that is because you’re only getting about half as much avocado as usual in your guacamole. The rest is made up for by non-fat greek yogurt. I can only imagine that this non-traditional ingredient is the main reason this guacamole doesn’t get the traditional “Trader Jose’s” appellation.

Part of me wants to praise Trader Joe’s for going out there and making a healthy guacamole alternative. However, I can’t help but think it’s all rather pointless. After all, guacamole’s only really good with chips – and there’s nothing remotely diet friendly about a bunch of tortilla chips. Yes, I suppose you could eat this with some celery sticks or such, but in that case wouldn’t you be much better off with some low-fat ranch dressing instead? Even Trader Joe’s Veggie Chip Potato Snacks and crunchy lentil curls aren’t quite so healthy enough that the diet conscious could feel free to go out and eat a big handful.

In the end, I guess Trader Joe’s is true to their word – you get a guacamole that reduces your guilt, but doesn’t absolve it.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Not really. It’s fine for a healthy dip, but there aren’t a lot of healthy ways to enjoy it.

Would I Buy It Again: No, I think I’ll stick to the real stuff.

Final Synopsis: A low calorie guacamole with half the calories and about half the taste.

 

Trader Joe's Reduced Guilt Guacamole - Nutrition Facts

Trader Joe’s Reduced Guilt Guacamole – Nutrition Facts


Trader Joe’s French Market Sparkling French Berry Lemonade

Trader Joe's Sparkling French Berry Lemonade

Look at that guy appreciate the hell out of that glass of lemonade. Go man, go!

 

I really had no choice but to pick up Trader Joe’s French Market Sparkling French Berry Lemonade. Who could resist such a coy little bottle? Everything about this drink is designed to attract – from the sweeping curves of the bottle, to the cheery, blush colored drink, to the fanciful, inset labeling.

Once it’s caught your eye, once you’ve seen that this is not just lemonade, not just sparkling lemonade, but “French Berry” sparkling lemonade, well sir, you’re probably more than just a little bit intrigued. And that’s where the god damn geniuses over there at the Trader Joe’s Marketing department get you. Contrary to every other TJ product on the shelves, there’s not one word of explanation on the whole bottle. Nothing more than a nutrition label, a very elegant “refrigerate after opening”, and a tiny “product of France” notice, tucked away in one corner. Even the Trader Joe’s hand lotion has about a paragraph  justifying its folksy existence to the world. All of that, and you’re not going to offer one word of explanation about what the hell a “french berry” is? My curiosity was piqued.

What you’ll find in this bottle is a truly delightful taste of bottled summertime pleasure. Sparkling fruit juices are by no means rare in this world. Martinelli’s, the unstoppable juggernaut of seasonal apple juice, is the most visible player, but they aren’t alone (as we saw with Ace Pumpkin Cider). What is rare, however, is a really well done carbonated fruit juice. Most, and Martinelli’s really comes to mind here, just decide to make the thing cloyingly sweet and call it a day. It takes a little bit of moxie and character to say to yourself, “Why can’t a sparkling fruit juice aspire to nuance and complexity?”

Let’s begin with the basics. When you get a bottle of Trader Joe’s French Market lemonade, you shouldn’t expect lemonade like Minute Maid likes to make. Outside of America, lemonade takes on strange and different meaning. In France, it happens to mean carbonated, lemon-flavored, clear sodas – including drinks like Sprite and 7-up – and by no mean’s including anything actually made from squeezed lemons, unless you’ve canned or bottled and carbonated it. That’s what Trader Joe’s have given us here in the form of a delightfully fizzy, tickle-your-nose style bottled drink. This French lemonade is also much less citrus-y than you might expect if you were raised on the pucker-your lips, homemade stuff. This sparkling lemonade has citrus notes that emerge from between the bubbles, tingling and buzzing the tongue lightly, but never approaching anything like sour.

Lemonade get even crazier the farther you get from central Europe. In Ireland, for example, they have three types of “lemonade”: clear, green and red. And if that hasn’t already terrified you into never leaving the country again, you might enjoy one of the fine salted lemonades of South East Asia.

Where Trader Joe’s Sparkling Lemonade really stands on it’s own, however,  is in the light and fruity berry notes that infuse it. Subtle, mellow notes of strawberry lay over the light lemon flavor. With all the other flavors going on, plus the bubbles, the strawberry hardly tastes like strawberry at all, but simply a more general mixed berry taste. Nevertheless, it’s tasty, light and refereshing – not heavy and artificial like a lot of strawberry lemonades out there.

Wait a minute, strawberry? Where’s our eponymous “French Berry”, if that is in fact such a thing? Is it even used in this drink?

No, and yes, are your answers respectively. The french berry is indeed a real berry, but no french berry comes close to having a part in this “French Berry Lemonade”. The french berry is known by several names, among them “persian berry” and “avignon berry”, and is shockingly hard to uncover information about online. Despite it’s alluring appellations, the french berry is nothing more than the inedible fruit of an unexceptional buckthorn bush. It’s sole claim to fame, so far as I was able to uncover, is that medieval scribes used it to make a variety of dyes out of. What does that have to do with sparkling lemonade? Nothing. I expect that it was simply stuck on here because it sounds so much fancier than “strawberry”.

Weird naming conventions aside, this is still a fabulous summertime libation, pleasing to all the senses. What are the wages of enjoying such levity? About 130 calories a cup, and a 31 grams of sugar. That’s not all that bad for a full calorie soft drink, just be sure to enjoy your lovely tipples in moderation.

 


The Breakdown

Would I Recommend It: Sure, this is a great alternative to normal soda and perfect picnic accompaniment.

Would I Buy It Again: Yes, I’m looking forward to it.

Final Synopsis: A not too sweet, and very tasty, sparkling strawberry lemonade.

 

Trader Joe's Sparkling French Berry Lemonade - Nutrition Facts

Trader Joe’s Sparkling French Berry Lemonade – Nutrition Facts