Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps

Time in 2020 seems different than time in any other year I've been around for. Literally, it seems that this year has been going on for years. My lovely bride and i were reminiscing the other day about a trip she took back in February, so a little over six months ago...which seems more like six years ago at this point. We both couldn't believe it.

So, listen, I have no idea when Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps debuted in stores this year. None. Zip. Nada. All I know is I heard and saw the buzz all over the place for them...and when we went to our local TJ's here in good ol' Pittsburgh PA USA...they weren't ever there. It wasn't even a popularity deal, it was more they couldn't even be ordered for who knows what reason. We're always among the last to get anything here, so I've been waiting to try these for what it seems forever...or has it been maybe three weeks max? Two months? Since yesterday? Yanked from the future? I have no idea.

I also had no idea that jicama could be used in this way, as basically a tuber-tilla. Don't know what that is? I just made it up, so I didn't until 10 seconds ago either. It's a tortilla made from just a tuber (root plants like potatoes) and nothing else, and these TJ's jicama wraps may have invented the genre. Nothing added. Nothing obviously subtracted. All these wraps are is precisely as the package states: thinly, almost translucently, sliced jicama. The roughly four inch tubertacular discs are easily rollable and bendable, not so much foldable, sliceable, and are sturdy enough to hold a small taco together while not being quite big enough to hold a lot.

They're also pretty wet, which makes sense, but could be a turnoff for some. And other than that, it's just jicama. With a slight apple-like crispness and a mild sweetness, if you're tired of the same ol' tortillas or just want a low carb alternative that's not a lettuce wrap, go for it! I made a quick lunch yesterday with some leftover chicken, shredded cheese, and salsa, and it worked great. The jicama added a freshness without interfering with any other flavors.

I briefly considered making a quesadilla with them, to see how they'd cook up, but got scared off by the notion of potentially having to scrape burned up jicama off my decrepit frying pan. It's on its last legs as is, I don't need to speed it along. But the package says they're good for quesadillas...so did any of you try that? If so, how'd it go?

Pricepoint on these guys is about $4 for the dozen of them. Seems fair, maybe, I guess. Personally, I wouldn't drop any more than that on a regular basis for these guys, but maybe I'm just being cheap again. I like 'em, so does the fam who were brave enough to try them. There's a definite plus for the novelty, innovation and execution, but in the ned, it's still just thinly sliced jicama so I'm not sure how far we can really go here. Double fours? Sure.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Jicama Wraps: 8 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Joe's Crispy Banana Ribbons

This blog's been around for over a decade now. I'm not sure how many readers have been with us since the beginning, but I'm willing to bet virtually none of you would remember a random post from, say, 2013. In our review of Trader Joe's Banana Chips, there was a candid discussion between Sonia and me in regards to her experience—or lack thereof—with banana chips. I'm thinking I could just drop that little introductory passage into this review and pass it off as something new. Nobody would notice, right?

Ah, maybe I'll try something sneaky like that in the near future, but for now, I'll just leave you with a link to that old-school review. It's relevant because banana chips are the obvious comparison everyone's going to make with these new schnazzily-packaged "ribbons," right? Of course.

But before we get into the "chips vs ribbons" compare and contrast session that seems so unavoidable in this review, let's look at the fancy resealable bag we have here. It's a bright, eye-catching yellow, which is fun, if perhaps a bit obnoxious. The ribbons look more like frosted pieces of jagged glass on the artwork. They seem to be exploding, sending shards of sharp banana in all directions. It makes the snack seem far more frightening and dangerous than it is in real life.

The ribbons are moderately crispy, though softer overall than a banana chip, and much thinner. They're indeed ribbon-esque, as they appear to be lengthwise slices from down the side of the banana rather than circular cross-sections, as is the case with traditional banana chips. 

I want to say there's slightly less of that FrankenNana effect you get with banana chips. Some banana chips taste and feel like they've been encased in amber for a millennia or two, however, if you told me these ribbons were sliced and packaged last week, I'd believe you.

I think these are slightly sweeter than banana chips, too. The "hint of glaze" is apparently made of rice bran oil, sugar, and salt. It doesn't make the ribbons seem candy-coated, but subtly bumps them in the direction of "sweet treat" just a tad further than an actual banana.

I think we both enjoy these just a wee bit more than we enjoy banana chips, and like banana chips, Sonia seems just a little more enamored than I am. Not sure if they'll be a repeat purchase for us, but if you're into banana-based snacks, you'll probably appreciate them at least as much as we did.

$2.99 for the 3 oz package. Four stars from Sonia. Three and a half from me.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.