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Friday, April 1, 2016

Trader Joe's Cotton Kitchen Towels


Well, readers, gotta admit: all of us at WGaTJ's are a little disappointed. You see, in years past right around this time, we've been privileged to be part of the taste test process for new, interesting, exotic products before they hit store shelves. It's sorta like the once a year bone that Big Joe throws us for hosting one of the Internet's biggest rolling Trader Joe's lovefests.

But not this year. No particular reason why. Just...nothing. Maybe there's still some fallout from last year's sampling which just didn't quite meet final quality standards for some reason - what a crappy excuse. Eh well.

So, instead, we're going to branch out and give something a try that first came back to Trader Joe's shelves a few months back: Trader Joe's Cotton Kitchen Towels. They're sold in a three-pack for like $5.99, which seems to be a pretty decent value. But, really, we're confused here. Literally, there's no instructions or descriptions or anything, so it's like TJ's is selling these 100% cotton towels with the assumption that we're supposed to know exactly what to do with them.

I mean, how in the the heck are you supposed to eat them?

No preparation instructions at all, so we're just winging it here, trying to take some clues. Seeing that the towels are apparently shelf-stable and not frozen, refrigerated, canned, or packaged, we first tried them as is, just what I presume would be "raw." Bleh. Literally, no taste - with the red coloring I was hoping for at least a hint of strawberry or sriracha or bacon or something. Instead, it's just this bland, fibrous, tough cloth-type sheet that is impossible to bite through.

Giving TJ's the benefit of the doubt, we began thinking just maybe we're doing wrong here. So, with the lack of guidance, here began the experiments. We tried microwaving - just warmed it up, slightly, but otherwise identical to our first taste. We thought maybe boiling them would do the trick and soften them up - it certainly made the towels hot, wet and steamy, but the only thing that got any softer out of it was my beard. The smoke alarms made it unbearable to bake them for more than a couple minutes, and we had a nice little chat with the fire chief after trying to grill them...really, at a loss here.

I thought maybe we got a bad batch (it can happen) so on our next TJ's trip, I asked one of the crew members for a sample and some advice of how to properly prepare a kitchen towel. Much like the blank stare and head shake from the fire chief, the look we got was kinda discouraging and not entirely helpful.

Fortunately, these towels do seem to have a decent absorptive property to them. It's been a struggle over the years to scrape off every last bit of some tasty sauce or whatever from a bowl or plate - well, fortunately, these flat fiber sheets are flexible enough that I can wipe off most any dish and it'll pick up all those flavors. And apparently this is a process that can repeated over and over again, because these towels do so seem pretty durable, and there's just not any process we can find that make these towels digestible seem possible. So, there's that.

But, fortunately, I'm not alone. The Rodgers picked up this product about the same time we did. They went about the preparations a little differently, but found the towels similarly perplexing and disappointing. Here's a short video review chronicling their experience:



As you can see, we gotta go thumbs down across the board. From all of us here at What's Good At Trader Joe's: Zeroes.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Cotton Kitchen Towels: 0 out of 10 Golden Spoons

p.s. - Are these even gluten free?

Thursday, March 31, 2016

Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower

From my childhood, I have what my lovely bride interprets as a bad habit on major holidays: namely, not really eat anything until the big dinner itself. You see, it's not a bad strategy when "holiday dinner" is at about 1 p.m. or so, so skipping breakfast isn't that huge of a deal, and come meal time, you have plenty enough room in your belly to eat your fill, and to be too full for dinner. Totally works because that's how I grew up. But on her side of the family, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners and the like are more towards the evening (5 p.m. or so), making this strategery much tougher to employ. Not to say I haven't tried...but every holiday with a later big meal, I get the speech: "You're not going to starve yourself all day until dinner time! You're gonna eat something! Set a good example for the kids!" and so on.

And so it was this past weekend out here in the 'burgh. Easter dinner, our house, 5 p.m. Got home from church, she started launching it yet again...blahblahblah...yes dear, alright dear, I ran 5.5 miles that morning so kinda hungry anyways...

...and then she pulled out Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower from the freezer. Game, set, match. Stop twisting my arm already, this looks good!

As the name implies, what we have here is a bag of frozen lightly breaded cauliflower florets with some spicy kung pao sauce to stir them all around in. The camera somehow ate the picture we took of the finished product, but the picture on the bag is a more than apt depiction of the vibrant veggie vittles inside. Except...most of the blossoms are freaking huge. Ginormous, probably a whole serving itself. That's not entirely a bad thing, but they do present a textural variant that can be difficult to account for in preparation. Naturally, the stemmy sections retains more crunch and stiff fibrous feel, while the actual "trees" sections are kinda all over the place. Some were done roughly right, with a good bite, while others seemed smooshy and almost creamy due to being just way too soft. If they were smaller, I'd think it'd be easier to prepare them in a more even manner. It didn't inhabit us too much, but I could see it being a potential issue for some.

As for the sauce, I didn't care much for it straight up (yes, I tried it). It seemed a bit too cloyingly soy sauce-y, with a little tang of pineapple juice and a tickle of heat poking out.  However, once on the slightly crispy/greasy cauliflower, a lot of the soy tendencies mellowed out, while the spice amped itself a smidge. By the end of my bowlful, the heat definitely kicked up several notches from where it started. The breading itself is barely worth mention, except to say it was a fairly adequate medium between the sauce and veggie.

Overall, this particular Trader Ming's offering is a go...I'd feel slightly better recommending it if it cost $3.99 or so instead of $4.99...but chances are it'll be a repeat purchase for when the vaguely Asian food/don't feel like paying for takeout bug hits (which is often enough). Sandy offers up a four whereas I'll slide in a little lower.

Bottom line: Trader Ming's Kung Pao Tempura Cauliflower: 7.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons

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