To me, the term "rice cake" has always meant a dry, crispy disk of whole grain rice, usually Quaker brand, mostly plain but occasionally dusted with a flavoring of some sort. Growing up with a wheat allergy, rice cakes were a great alternative to wheat-based crackers and even bread. I'd eat mine with peanut butter and jelly or sometimes just plain and I honestly grew to love them. Despite not having a significant wheat allergy any longer, I'll seek out Quaker rice cakes once in a while just for nostalgia's sake or to curb my once-in-a-while craving.
These rice cakes are obviously a little different from those big crunchy pucks I grew up with. Apparently, something similar to Trader Joe's Sliced Korean Rice Cakes is widely available at Asian grocers like H Mart, but this will be the first time either Sonia or I have tried this specific type of mochi-esque side dish.
The little slices of rices are oval-shaped, but otherwise about the size of a quarter. I don't know if you've ever placed a coin on the railroad tracks and let a train run over it or used one of those novelty crank-operated machines that stamps your penny with the logo from some specific attraction, but they're in that ballpark, size and shape-wise.
I followed the instructions to boil them, and they came out quite chewy. They were pillowy and somewhat soft, but honestly, I was hoping for something a little closer to regular rice or pasta in terms of texture. They're surprisingly dense, and I won't say they're leathery per se, but they don't exactly melt in the mouth quite like I was hoping they would.
Still, they're unique and convenient. There's no sauce in the bag, so you can just add them to pretty much any Asian dish. In our case, we had them with leftover sesame chicken, egg rolls, and stir fry topped with sriracha sauce. You can't really see any veggies in the picture we took, but I promise there's some cabbage in that bowl somewhere.
The cakes, not surprisingly, taste like rice, and they add an interesting texture, particularly if you cut them in half for easier chewing before taking a bite. We both like 'em enough. Repeat purchase? Maybe.
$3.29 for the 5 serving bag found in the frozen section. Vegan. Gluten free. Three and a half stars a piece from Sonia and me on Trader Joe's Sliced Korean Rice Cakes.
Bottom line: 7 out of 10.
At last, the long-awaited sequel to our review of Trader Joe's Chai Tea Mints is here! For a recap: the last tea-flavored mint got a thumbs up from Sonia and a thumbs down from Nathan. When we last left our heroes, Nathan was coughing from the chalky aftertaste and Sonia was adding the tiny tin to her purse, promising she'd finish the mints without Nathan's help. The high after-dinner refreshment drama continues today...with Trader Joe's Green Tea Infused Mints!
These are a little better than the chai ones in my humble opinion. I honestly love chai flavored things, and green tea stuff is hit or miss with me, so I'm actually kinda surprised. Chai has an almost desserty vibe to me. It should be sweet and spicy and somewhat indulgent. Those mints weren't.
Green tea, on the other hand, I think of as medicinal. It can be refreshing, which I'd say these mints are. It can be sweet, which these mints are as well. But I don't really think of green tea as a flavor extravaganza, generally. What I guess I'm trying to say is I didn't have my expectations up as high for these green tea mints, and I wasn't nearly as disappointed.
Also I think green tea breath is better than chai breath. I don't think I can justify or back that opinion up with any sound logic or rationale...so we'll just leave it at that. Plus these are less chalky by my estimation. Sonia likes them about the same as the chai ones.
$1.99 at the checkout area. About 54 mints per tin. That's three less than the chai version. I should take them out and count them manually, but...nah. Feel free to count them and comment below if you're feeling ambitious. Four stars from Sonia, three and a half stars from me for Trader Joe's Green Tea Infused Mints.
Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10.