When Trader Joe's offers up female-themed, gender-specific products like this one, I always have to do a self-induced Man Card check.
I mean, one could argue that Trader Joe himself is a dude, and that nearly every product in the store has a dude's name on it. But a chick purchasing Cowboy Burgers or Cowboy Caviar? Nobody bats an eyelid. I buy Cowgirl Bark—and the female clerk that rang me up actually called me out on it. Other parts of that classic review were indeed fictional—and me calling my own review "classic" is absolutely meant to be as tongue-in-cheek as you were hoping it was. But the part about the Trader Joe's employee wondering why I was buying Cowgirl Bark instead of the "boy" version really, truly, honestly happened.
I mean, one could argue that Trader Joe himself is a dude, and that nearly every product in the store has a dude's name on it. But a chick purchasing Cowboy Burgers or Cowboy Caviar? Nobody bats an eyelid. I buy Cowgirl Bark—and the female clerk that rang me up actually called me out on it. Other parts of that classic review were indeed fictional—and me calling my own review "classic" is absolutely meant to be as tongue-in-cheek as you were hoping it was. But the part about the Trader Joe's employee wondering why I was buying Cowgirl Bark instead of the "boy" version really, truly, honestly happened.
So now, when "goddess" type products pop up on TJ's shelves, to prove to myself how secure I am in my masculinity...
I send my lovely Sonia in to purchase them while I wait in the car.
I mean, I'm well aware that food-blogging about salad dressing isn't quite as manly as, say, felling mighty cedar trees with a hacksaw or driving a monster truck through a massive, fiery explosion, so I'm demonstrating some level of security here anyway, right? I've reviewed mango, pumpkin spice, and even light beer products. I'm secure as heck...right? I guess if I even have to ask you, then I already have my answer. Oh well.
Insecure or not, I must say I do like this dressing. It's super thick, but relatively smooth, and it tastes as green as it looks. It coats everything it touches, so you don't have to use much with each serving.
It's decidedly avocado-y. There's a bright citrusy zing from the lemon juice, too—and underneath those dominant flavors is a subtle, but remarkably unique blend of garlic, spices, and apple cider vinegar. It worked very well on salad, but I think there are plenty of other applications here.
It's decidedly avocado-y. There's a bright citrusy zing from the lemon juice, too—and underneath those dominant flavors is a subtle, but remarkably unique blend of garlic, spices, and apple cider vinegar. It worked very well on salad, but I think there are plenty of other applications here.
It certainly doesn't taste exactly like guacamole, but it could probably serve in the same capacity. It's delicious as a chip dip, and I imagine it would be stellar as a sauce for fish tacos, sandwiches, baked potatoes, or nachos.
$3.69 for the small bottle. Even with teeny-weeny serving sizes, it'll go fast, because you'll want to eat it with everything. No weird ingredients, low in calories, vegan. Definitely avoid if you hate avocados or guac. I wish they made a version with some heat. I'm not sure what will pair just right with it... jalapeños? Tapatio? Cayenne pepper? We'll just have to experiment. Four stars from me. Four and a half from my "goddess," Sonia.
Bottom line: 8.5 out of 10.