Trader Ming's Chicken & Vegetable Wonton Soup

This wonton soup isn't quite up to par with wonton from a good Chinese restaurant. It's certainly not bad, though. Again, we're talking about something that's ready in minutes in the microwave, and since there are very few other frozen grocery store versions of this type of dish, we wind up comparing it with restaurant food—which, of course, gives the Trader Joe's product a distinct disadvantage. Poor TJ's.

But quite often, their frozen dishes somehow find themselves in the same league as restaurant-quality foods. This happy little bowl of Asian soup is definitely much better than something I'd expect from a frozen microwave dish, but it's not quite as good as soup I'd expect from the local Chinese place (the good local Chinese place, not the sketchy place on the corner that's been shut down for selling cat-meat).

The wontons were actually the best part of this stuff. I can tell there's actually some chicken in the dumplings, and I've no complaints about the dough. The broth is what you'd expect - probably the hardest aspect of the soup to screw up: it's salty and a little miso-esque. What I thought fell a little short of the mark were the vegetables. They simply tasted like they had recently been frozen...which of course, they had, but because we know TJ's can do the impossible, we want them to do it all of the time. The veggies certainly weren't bad, but they just didn't taste fresh to me. Perhaps a slightly different array of greens would allow its recent frozenness to be masked a bit more by the salty broth and microwave magic. It seems to me that it's a bit difficult to mask an unfresh pod of peas. They're sooo tasty when they're fresh...and just so...mediocre when they're not.

Sonia gives it a 3. I'm torn between a 3 and a 3.5. But I think I'll go with a 3.5, just because TJ's used the name "Trader Ming" and not just plain old "Trader Joe." I like it when they use those unique ethnic names. They should use them more often.

Bottom line: 6.5 out of 10 stars.

Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie

For a couple alleged grown-ups, my sister and I have a little too much of a weird things going with tyrannosaurus rex*. Every time we see each other, she and I engage in what we call a "t-rex hug" by stomping up to each other while snorting while holding up our arms short - umm, we even did that right in the middle of my wedding reception...yeah, I'm glad Sandy laughed that off. My sis and I routinely trade pics like this one or this one, and I was beyond ecstatic when she gave me this shirt for a Christmas present. Don't ask me why, but I love stuff like that (I think of it as an alternate icanhascheezburger-type thing) and by extension love the old Godzilla movies (even though they're now the reason why I hate ketchup, but that's a tale for another day). Comparison graphics like this one make me actually even more excited for the arrival of Lil' Russandro/a in late June.

So, yeah, needless to say, want me to buy something? Put a t-rex (or something close) on it. Add in the fact it's mid-evening on a Sunday, you're flying solo and have to find a dessert for an evening family meal, the shelves are depleted and your pregnant wife is demanding something chocolatey but not cheesecake-y, and there's something on the fresh baked goods shelf with a "Choczilla" on it, and even for a kinda steep $6.99, you got a deal.

Except, for something called a Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie, it severely lacks enough of both chocolate and nut to stave off some disappointment. Basically, it's just a regular ol' pecan pie with dark and white chocolate stripes across the top and a small smattering of milk chocolate chips down below. Don't get wrong, it's good, but it's not even close to my Aunt Brenda's homemade pecan pie, the best in the world, against which whether fairly or not I judge all pecan pies. Hers is heavy and literally full of pecans. This? There's a thin layer at the top but mostly it's the mushy underbelly. That kinda helps the pie taste a little bit richer and perhaps a little more chocolately than it actually is. The crust is typical store brand fare, which I'm impartial on. And ohbytheway, don't bother squinting to make out the nutritional info. It's atrocious.

A better name for this would have been something like a "pecan pie with some chocolate" and if a reptilian mascot was really needed, use a gecko (they can shill more than just car insurance) or a snake or something. I'm really not sure what that'd have to do with pecans (maybe a mild chipmunk would be better), but I digress. My whole thing is, the name "Choczilla Nut Pie" conjures up an image of a thoroughly nutty, chocolately pie that this is clearly not, and honestly, although it's tasty, I'm pretty disappointed. It's definitely better than some types of chocolate pies out there, but overall the pie just lacks too much.

Sandy's in full agreement with me. "It could more of either and it'd be so much better. It's kinda weak as is, but still tasty," she said. I concur. If this were my creation, it'd be a full out chocolate pie with every kind of imaginable nut jammed in, and not just a slightly dressed up average-at-best pecan pie. I doubt this will be a repeat purchase for us, and based on that fact, I'll go a bt lower than the three Sandy granted it and go with a 2.5. Kinda like the arms of a t-rex, this definitely falls quite a bit short.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Choczilla Nut Pie: 5.5 out of 10 Golden Spoons
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*Apparently "tyrannosaurus rex" is both singular and plural. Who makes these rules? Jeez. That just looks wrong but so does "tyrannosaurus rexes" or "tyrannosauri regis" or anything like that.

Trader Joe's Sparkling Blueberry Juice

I loooove me some sweet beverages. I don't care what kind: sodas, juices, energy drinks, milkshakes, nectars, smoothies, frappuccinos, mixed drinks, dessert wines, chocolate milk, or eggnog. I probably drink more calories than I eat. And I'm proud of it. Maybe it's because I'm lazy. The whole act of chewing seems so tedious sometimes.

Why eat a bag of blueberries when you can drink one? TJ's Sparkling Blueberry Juice has got the same great blueberry taste and involves less masticating... No masticating at all as a matter of fact.

In another review of this product that I happened to stumble upon, the taste-tester said this product was "a bit strong." I totally disagree with that statement. Considering that the natural flavor of blueberries is at least a bit strong, I think the flavor of this product is actually a little on the mild side. Not bad. Just a bit mild. The deep, dark color of the beverage is a little misleading if you ask me. Anything with the word "blueberry" on the label should have a big, bold taste. Other than that it, tastes like real, natural blueberries. It's like blueberry juice mixed with some lightly carbonated water.

I also think this product could stand a bit more bubbliness. Carbonation is wonderful. It adds texture to a liquid. Think about it. Foods can have hundreds of different textures, but liquids are either thick or thin -- and they might occasionally have pulp or something -- but carbonation kind of adds texture and body to something that's generally pretty simple. Anyway, that's basically my only complaint. The mild flavor thing isn't really a complaint. Just more of an observation.

Anyhoo, I give it a 3.5 out of 5. I thought about giving it a 4, because it's a great subtitute for champagne (not that it actually tastes anything like champagne), and kind of has that Martinelli's sparkling, non-alcoholicky, fruity vibe. But I've given out a lot of 4's lately. Can't give everything a 4. If it were just a hair stronger or a tad more carbonated, it might have gotten a 4 from me.

Sonia gives it a 4. Her only complaint is that she wishes there were more. At $2.75 a bottle, TJ's could throw us a bone give us more than like 4 glasses-worth.

Bottom line: 7.5 out of 10 stars.