Trader Joe's Grand Slam

Veterans Stadium. Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Stade Olympique. (Old) Yankee Stadium. PNC Park. Jacobs/Progressive/whatever-its-called-these-days-in-Cleveland Field. Citizens Bank Park.  Fenway Park. Angel Stadium. Nationals Park. And, in a few weeks, Great American Ball Park.

Those, in rough chronological order, are the baseball stadiums I've been to. And yes, you're reading that right - I've been to a Montreal Expos home game. Can't do that anymore. No other place, except perhaps my grandparents' cabin, says summer to me like heading out to the ballpark to catch a game. Eventually I want to make my way to every park, except maybe that dreary prison (I didn't know you could move a stadium from Montreal to Tampa) or crazy neon funhouse down in Florida. I mean, seriously, ugh. Whatever. From catching the tail end of Mike Schmidt's career to seeing Mike Trout in the very early stages of his, all in person, there's little that beats a night at the ol' ballgame.

So, you need some snacks for that, right? Right. And if they not only keep kids happy but also go well with crappy, overpriced beer? Even better. That's why Cracker Jack is so popular. So, with venturing out with some Trader Joe's Grand Slam, TJ's is just maybe poking the bear a little. There's some classics, like Rollie Fingers' mustache, that you just don't mess with.

Let's see: a grand slam is the single best hit a baseball player can get, right? Well, this isn't Trader Joe's single best snack. It's okay - the popcorn itself is light and poofy with very little (if any) grungy kernally undercarriage. I firmly appreciate all of that. The rest....ehhh. At least in our bag, the caramel seemed uneven from bite to bite - some bites seemed too overtly sweet while others were kinda bland. That leads me to believe it's either not very good caramel or there's something off in the production process.

And while the thought of adding almonds, cashews and pecans to the tried-and-true peanuts seem like a very intriguingly good idea, the byproduct is almost worthy of it's own blooper reel. Think about it. Of course all those nuts will be chopped up into little itty-bitty bits, then slathered in sticky caramel goop and hardened...so of course they're gonna form a nutty conglomeration worthy of only the sturdiest of molars to undertake. And of course based on weight and settling and shuffling and what not, the nut clusters will all sink to the bottom of the bag (you know, like, all four of them), so one must dig through all the poofy popcorn to get some nuts then risk an unscheduled dentist trip to enjoy them. Well, good thing they taste pretty good - it's caramel covered nuts, what did you expect?

I think the bag cost somewhere around $3, and while it's a tasty enough of snack...well, call me a traditionalist (I hate instant replay!!!!) but I gotta go for Cracker Jack instead - better caramel and no nutty nut bombs. Plus you get that awesome sticker or temporary tattoo inside. Not a bad attempt TJ's, but sometimes, less is more, and when you're going against a legend, you gotta bring your A game. It says something that Sandy, a much more fervent fan of caramel popcorn than I can ever aspire to be, was a little displeased as well, for much of the reasons above. This "grand slam" seems more of a fly out to the warning track - might still bring something home, but in the end, it's still a sacrifice.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Grand Slam: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons.

Trader Giotto's Rigatoni alla Siciliana

Today's my 35th birthday. There's a famous quote about your parents ruining the first half of your life and your children ruining the second half. That's how I know I'll live beyond age 70. No kids yet, and my parents are still making bold attempts to ruin my life. Don't believe me? Just ask Sonia. She doesn't exaggerate like I've been known to on occasion.

Another reason I know I'll live past 70 is my phone number. You might think it strange, but when I was arbitrarily assigned my current cell phone number some 10 years ago, it struck me that the last four digits of it would be the year of my departure from this earth. 2060. When I was younger, I used to tell people that I was going to die when I was 60. But after I saw my phone number, I realized I had been mistaken. I'm not going to die at the age of 60. I'm going to die in the year 2060. 

So with that revelation, I began eating somewhat more healthily since I realized I had to account for an extra 21 years or so. That's one of the factors that led me to shop at places like Trader Joe's. Now there are those of you who will pipe up and say "But, but, but...Trader Joe's is just organic junkfood!" Maybe you'd be right. I don't know. But I currently believe it to be slightly healthier than most mainstream grocery stores like Ralph's or Giant. And remember, I'm aiming for 81. Not 91 or 101. I don't need to be that healthy. Pasta with eggplant sauce will suit me just fine over pasta with beef and pork or whatever. Don't get me wrong, I still eat meat. I just mix up my dead animal with eggplant from time to time.

And eggplant's tasty. Usually. I'm down with stuff like baba ghanoush and Indian eggplant curry. This product was no exception. And even though the texture of eggplant is always a gamble, in this case it was pretty nice. Not rubbery. Not too chewy. I think our biggest complaint is that this dish was lacking a special zing. It wasn't super bland. You could taste pasta and tomato sauce and eggplant, and it was slightly savory. But with three and a half decades of memories to compete with, this product just ain't gonna stand the test of time. It's certainly not bad. If you're jonesin' for some eggplant, by all means, check it out. But both Sonia and I wanted a little something extra. Some magical spice harvested from the moons of Jupiter that makes eggplant taste like ostrich meat or something like that—that's what we were looking for and it just wasn't there. This dish was super not bad and super not memorable. When I'm 70 and my kids are busy ruining my life, this bag of rigatoni will have been forgotten many decades prior. 3 stars from both of us.

Bottom line: 6 out of 10.

Trader Joe's Carolina Gold Barbeque Sauce

Confession time: As much as I love grilling, last summer...I didn't grill once. Not a single time. My excuses for that are numerable, but basically boil down to: The grill we owned (ten years old, passed down from my older brother's college house) crapped out. Would be cheaper to replace than get all new parts. Was planning to move, and not only did I not want one more thing to move (and a pain in the butt one at that), but if there's anything more expensive than buying a house, it's trying to simultaneously sell a house and buy a house and not have any potential creditors either knock on your door or implode your finances (i.e., pay them bills and keep that money in the bank). And as much as patience is a virtue that I am so aware that I so sorely lack (and I so want, right now!)....I just don't have it for charcoal. Never have and never will, except for the occasional tailgate, of course.

So, I'm trying to make up for it this year. Got the new Brinkman on my grilling patio - nothing fancy, but can sizzle up 24 burgers at once, according to the specs, so it works. I still don't break it out as often as I'd like, but when I do, it's fantastic.

Wish I could say the same for Trader Joe's Carolina Gold Barbeque Sauce. It's alright, don't get me wrong, but it's not my bag. A previous confession a while back revelealed I'm not a fan of most condiments (especially ketchup) but I do like most barbeque sauces, and every once in a while, in moderation, some mustard isn't terrible. But it has to be used lightly.

Well, due to my complete lack of critical thought and basic color/potential flavor reasoning, it never occurred to me, pre-purchase, that this could be a mustard based barbeque sauce. Not familiar with that concept - that's what i get for never having barbeque on the two or three times I've been in the Carolinas, I guess. Is that a North/South Carolina thing? I just know what the bottle tells me.

Basically, think of mustard, add a bunch of sugar and molasses and some smokiness, and a good dash of black pepper, and that's more or less what this TJ bbq sauce tastes like. It's a little discombobulating, trying to balance out the sweet smokey of most barbeque sauces with the mildly innocent acrid taste of mustard, but it kinda works, and the spices (most noticeably the aforementioned black pepper) help by adding a decent wollop on the back end. The sauce is pretty sweet, though - sugar's the first ingredient, for goodness sake.

It works...but for me at least, only in moderation. When I glazed some over some chicken breasts a few minutes before dinner time a few nights back, both Sandy and I were pretty happy with results. When I thought I'd add some flavor to some leftover grilled potatoes and corn for lunch, I must have dumped in a little too much, because my stomach spent the rest of the afternoon quietly debating what to do before settling for nothing.

There ought to be some more ways to lightly slather this on my meals of choice, so I'll keep trying it, but I'm not exactly all gung-ho at this point, either. Sandy pretty much agrees. A pair of matching 3s seems more than reasonable.

Bottom line: Trader Joe's Carolina Gold Barbeque Sauce: 6 out of 10 Golden Spoons