Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip

Listening to the scratch and watching the smear of windshield wipers when you can't get them timed "just right" for the precipitation. Wearing wet socks. Reading something then forgetting it five minutes laster. Hitting the 0 instead of the o on the keyboard.

What do all of these have in common?

Mild annoyances. Stuff that's not even really a deal breaker for having a good day, but something that causes a sigh and crosses your mind that you'd rather not deal with.

Okay, the wet socks is probably an extreme example. That's a day killer right there. But I mentioned it with assumption that either the socks will dry quickly or a new pair will be obtained in short matter, because nobody wants to deal with that.

Oh, another thing on my list: eating almost all of something and not really being sure if I liked it or not.

Such as it were with Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip. Not gonna lie: I smashed this and smashed it hard the other night during a family "snacky dinner" where had some pastry pups and veggies and chips.

But did I like the dip? Tough to say. On a certain level, yes, I must have. "Creamy" is definitely the right word, and there's plenty of onion and garlic and a little herbal goodness. Still, I felt like it could use a little oomph, a little something more, like a hint of Parmesan or little more hear from some pepper. It's good, not great...I'm just glad it wasn't made ranchy.

The mouthfeel though...it could be a deal breaker for some. It's not exactly chunky but it's sure not smooth, either. The cauliflower chunks are small and plenty soft without too much bite, but it ju st kinda feels a bit off, like in the same regard if not the same way as lumpy mashed potatoes. Either all chunky would be fine, or all smooth, but in the middle? Nah.

I'm not sure if this makes sense, but I'm thinking this TJ's veggie dip would be almost better as a soup somehow. Sure, it'd have to be reconfigured a bit...but this could be a really darn good soup IMHO. There's something potentially warm and earthy here which would be better expressed in soup form.

In all, it's not bad, I guess. I'd much prefer the TJ's cauliflower dip as part of a holiday veggie tray over most run-of-the-mill dips, but I'm not sure I'll be going out of my way for it either. It's in the freezer section for a few bucks and needs a couple minutes in the microwave to warm on up. Not bad overall, I'd say. Definitely better than wet socks.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Creamy Roasted Cauliflower & Onion Dip: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Lebkuchen Cookies

I took three years of German in high school and one semester at Penn State to fulfill my foreign language requirement. One might think I regret choosing German over Spanish since I married into a Spanish-speaking family. I dunno. Even after 9 years of marriage, I'm still struggling to hablo some bueno Español, but all through those school years, the kids who took French, Spanish, and Latin wandered the halls, frazzled and frustrated, trying to cram for their latest vocab quiz, while the German students pranced around singing songs— "Sie liebt dich, ja, ja, ja!" —and looking forward to their next Deutsche Klasse.

There's just something about German that's intrinsically fun. In addition to the language, we learned exciting things about German culture like Oktoberfest, the speed limit-less highway known as the Autobahn, and even some pop culture tidbits via Deutsche Welle—like German music videos. For that reason, I think we retained a lot of what we learned. I don't recall specifically hearing about Lebkuchen, but as soon as I saw them at Trader Joe's, I immediately knew they were cookies—kuchen. According to Wikipedia, the "Leb" part of the equation is less clear, but I immediately assumed it came from the same root word as Leben, the German word for "life." I figured it must have been like the medieval German equivalent to that silliness that Millennials are always saying on social media: "These cookies are giving me life."

And they do indeed "give life." Their insides are vaguely reminiscent of another traditional German treat we looked at on this blog many years ago, but not quite as heavy on the spices. It's similar to gingerbread—soft and slightly chewy—almost spongy. There's a citrusy essence to them, as well, since they've got candied orange peel mixed in—it's not overbearing, though. Almonds, walnuts, and hazelnuts give them a nutty flavor. The chocolate coating is waxy, thin, and semi-sweet. It goes together with the bread pretty well, although the combination of the two textures is relatively foreign to both Sonia and I. The undersides of the cookies are like very thin wafers—yet a third distinct texture to add to the mix—although it's not as noticeable as the first two.

Although she was initially turned off by the sponginess of the inner-cookie, Sonia fell in love after a few bites, since the cookies paired so perfectly with coffee. She was happy to have a holiday snack that's a bit of a departure from the norm. No doubt someday our insatiable wanderlust will take us to international destinations like Deutschland, but until then, we're thankful to have snacks like these at Trader Joe's.

Double fours for these cookies.

Bottom line: 8 out of 10.