Me and Goji Custom Artisanal Cereal: PB&J Poon

It's Christmas, people. A time for reflection, familial bonding (in whatever form,) and rampant, rabid indulgence. Gifts. Food. Booze. And in some cases, blatantly useless yet fascinating gifts that we must have right now. One of these gifts is from Me and Goji, a customized blend of artisanal cereal that you create and they make. Imagine a gift along the lines of mixing all the remnants of the boxes of Post cereal together, but jacked up about thirty notches and thirty dollars. It's a very simple concept- pick a base, add-ins, fruit and nuts, and a name for your cereal box.

Oh, wait. Did I say cereal box? My mistake, I'm rather gauche. This is, as M&G would say, a cereal capsule. The capsule, straight out of Star Trek: The Last Enterprise, was "influenced by modern-minimalist interior design" in a bold move to create not a mere vessel, but an art piece that one could display to friends and President Obama. There was also an option to add an image to the packaging. In that spirit, I customized my cereal capsule with a festive self-portrait.My cereal contained a base of choco granola, a double dosage of chocolate covered peanuts, goldenberries, raspberries, chocolate chips and chocolate covered goji. I named it PB&J Poon, for the discerning adult palate looking to combine coitus with comfort. Comfort is a key point as this contains 199.5 calories per half cup serving with 286.3 of those calories coming from fat. Wait, what?That's right.

Opening the capsule, it's clear that this is the champagne of breakfast cereals. Best paired with a 1962 Petrus, I'm sure, but a cocktail of Suduiraut and Veuve Clicquot (pictured) will do in a pinch. It's crammed with goodies and filled 3/4ths of the way to the top. What really irked me at first was that despite choosing a double helping of chocolate covered peanuts, there were barely any to be found in the capsule. I suspect they had settled to the bottom, but even after a good shake, they were still missing in action. However, I did encounter a foreign object in my search- a small dime bag with two dried cranberries and a note proclaiming "a taste of the bog in your bowl." This was all well and good, but a wee bit patronizing. If I had the presence of mind to order a cereal with goji berries and acai powder, there is no way in hell I haven't tasted dried cranberries. Doi.Everything tasted quite good, as I would expect from a $20 breakfast cereal. The granola was crispy with a hint of salt and the perfect amount of sugar. The raspberries were my favorite aspect of the cereal, with a slight saltiness from the granola and a gummy bearesque, chewy texture. I'd have gladly eaten those independently of the cereal. The goldenberries were a little seedy, but had a tart, robust flavor. I don't know why I decided to put goji berries in the cereal, as everyone who knows anything knows that they taste like stale semen, but I must have been overly caught up in the glamor of high living. They continue to taste like semen. Semen with a $2/half cup price tag. Even Fabio can't command that kind of a price.

It's not really practical to recommend this to people outside of the demographic of those who keep a stack of Hermes scarves on top of the john in lieu of toilet paper, because justifying that expense would make me an asshole. But I do have to put in an endorsement for its fresh, bright flavors ; it is clearly made with a better set of ingredients than the generic brand cereals Swagger replaces in his used name brand boxes. (Busted!) I have no sensible reason to order this again, but it was fun to live lavishly for a brief moment.

Ines Rosales Sweet Olive Oil Tortas

I'm a woman of relatively simple tastes. There are times, frequently, when I have a primal urge to whip up something maddeningly complex, but a few simple ingredients can really satisfy me at times.I'd never tried olive oil tortas and believed them to be along the lines of a slightly greasier pita pocket, but when Dr. D brought some home to me to try as a snack, I was surprised to find that they were delicate, crisp little crackers wrapped in wax paper with a brush of olive oil and anise seeds mixed in.
These tortas are Andalusian in origin, but the snack I decided to make was decidedly Italian pizza-esque, that is, if your local joint decided to swap out flour crusts and tomato sauce for imported arugula and white truffle oil. The crackers were sweet and airy with a hint of rock sugar and anise. I wanted to draw out the earthiness of the olive oil and let the anise play a part in the snack, too, so I decided to spread some brown mustard as a sauce base, top with Kerry Dubliner cheese for some extra nuttiness, and sprinkle fresh thyme on top. Extremely easy for a snack and the results couldn't have been better. It was oleaginous incarnate, with a perfect balance of savory and sweet flavors. I'd be quite happy serving this as an appetizer to friends.If you're in the market for an upscale, finely made snack, the buck stops here. However, they're not versatile for a whole lot else. Their brittle crispness makes them impossible to sandwich and I even found them difficult to dip in anything erring towards the solid side of spreads. The unique flavoring sort of pigeonholes them into a specific set of toppings one can use. I was sailing blind and got lucky with mine. And the greasiness may be a turn-off for some (when was the last time you heard that, hrm?) if you're serving these at a slightly nicer function than your average family dinner. I liked this, though. It was a tasty treat to share with Dr. D.

Trader Joe's Chicken Tikka Masala and Channa Masala

Trader Joe's does cutesy things with their product names. If one wishes to wolf down microwaved lo mein before an eco-conference, one needs to look no further than the Trader Ming line. Or, say, if one has a date with that attractively pierced barrista from down the street and it's hailing outside, simply turn to that Trader Giotto's pizza that's been lying in the freezer.

Now, I'm sure I don't need to preach about failed product lines and subsequent names by bringing up soul food or badly drawn German cuisine clip art, or the oft-imitated, occasionally regurgitated Indian food. This particular entree is simply of the Trader Joe's variety.I've never heard of a cuisine raise more controversy amongst friends than Freedom fries or the Bread Riots of 1725, but Indian food does it. Suggest it to friends over 60 or people who are virgins to the cuisine and they'll immediately deny it, denounce it, and write it out of their will. Why is it so unapproachable? Trader Joe's alternative to ordering off the menu presents a pretty mild, yet authentic set of dishes.

The channa masala came in a large portion, enough for two to easily share, and was chock-full of magical chickpeas that didn't turn to mush in the microwave. They took up the bulk of the package and were surrounded by tasty, savory sauce with pieces of tomato and herbs abound. This was really flavorful, and I appreciated the texture of the chickpeas, as it was the majority of the dish.The chicken tikka masala actually came in a partitioned container with jasmine rice. The tikka took up about 3/4 of the package, but unfortunately came with only four chunks of chicken. This may have been adequate for one person, but I would have preferred more than four pieces, because it left quite a bit of sauce leftover. Luckily, that went to good usage. The rice, though moist and cooked well, was rather bland and we turned to flavoring it up with sour cream and extra sauce to improve it.

I liked the flavor of the tikka masala. That's really what brought it from "meh-sala" to "masala," in my opinion. The spices were prominently hot, giving just enough of a kick to make you want to grab a beverage, but not too much kick to overwhelm. The chicken was tender and the sauce adhered to it well.

Overall, these were quite sustaining for the two of us to share, and couldn't have been easier to make. As sides, we crisped up some tortillas for instant naan, and mixed some sour cream and paprika into the rice. I highly recommend these as an easy meal when you don't feel like cooking or eating out, as they're cheaper and easier to prepare than the actual dish. I'm excited to try more of Trader Joe's international entrees to see how they compare, both in price and in spice, to the authentic dishes.

Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Covered Edamame

I know this might go without saying for some blogs- Popular Mechanics, Cigar Aficionado, Christian Children's Book Review- that they don't condone or promote the abuse of animals. And if you're asking me point blank, sure, Foodette joins those noble ranks.

But shit, it is hard to photograph a squirming kitten next to some damned edamame beans without using some tricky tactics. Like superglue.

I picked this up at Trader Joe's a few days ago while on a mission to gather some weird ass shit for Tampa Bay Food Monster and had to review it. Also, photograph it next to unrelated condiments. Chocolate covered edamame seemed neat as far as things covered in chocolate went. It came in little beans and looked shiny and approachable.Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly as impressive as it sounded. After trying to come up with cute ways to photograph it, I settled for the Asian cat and gave up. Truth is, it's kind of a boring snack. It carries that quintessentially mealy and soil-like flavor that soybeans take on. Its only hint of savory flavor was a slight sea saltiness that quickly disappeared, and then ceded to blandness. The dark chocolate Trader Joe's used was nice, though- it was a fruity dark. If I had to guess I'd say it was somewhere in the 60-70% and was rich and sweet with very little bitterness. It was this fruity note that made me keep coming back to these, whereupon I realized it would be more practical to simply buy a nice chocolate bar rather than suffer through the queer edamame flavoring.I'd only be tempted to buy this combination again in a situation that imparted more saltiness or "umame" to the overall flavor- if these had fleur du sel, wasabi, or soy sauce mixed in, as a nod to the traditional applications of edamame, it would be another story.

Also, here's a picture of our new kitten. Her spirit name is Purr and she looks peeved to be associated with an inferior product.

Ghirardelli Luxe Milk Almond, Toffee, and Hazelnut Bars

Along with the individually wrapped squares, the Ghirardelli Luxe Milk line also includes chocolate bars. Coupons for these bars were kindly provided by a public relations representative. My local Target store only had the almond and hazelnut varieties, but I was able to find toffee at a Wal-mart.

I've certainly mentioned this before, but I'm not typically a milk chocolate person. Dark chocolate (somewhere around 60 to 70% cacao, to be specific) is my preference, but even for me, Ghirardelli's Luxe Milk hits the spot with its rich, creamy, traditional milk chocolate. The pretty, pale gold wrapper helps, too.


Almond smelled of roasted almonds, and the chunky nuts had a meaty, chewy texture and strong, roasted flavor. The chocolate was milky and just a little sweet, and the bar seemed better than the individual squares. It was crunchy, a bit crackly, and very nicely balanced. The milk chocolate was just a little sticky but it didn't bother me. A-


Toffee might have knocked my socks off if I hadn't just tried the new Vosges toffee bar, but that's another review. The Ghirardelli bar smelled only of milk chocolate, but the toffee added texture right from the first bite. It was crunchy like fine hard candy bits, and it imparted a mild salty and savory butter flavor to the bar. The milk chocolate was smooth and cool on the tongue with just a little stickiness, and it was a good match for the toffee. At less than half the price of the aforementioned Vosges bar, it's not a bad choice at all. A-


Finally, Hazenlnut smelled nutty, and the rich flavor and slight sweetness of the hazelnuts brought out the sweeter flavors in the milk chocolate. Although they went well together here, I am not a big fan of hazelnut and chocolate (I don't even like Nutella), so it was a bit lost on me. The hazelnuts were fresh and crunchy, and I think fans of hazelnut chocolate would like it very much. B

Overall, the Luxe Milk line offers a nice range of fillings in good quality milk chocolate, and I think any of these bars would please a chocolate fan.

Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House

Chinatown's Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House gets lots of praise for, of course, their hand drawn noodles freshly made to order in house (sit in the back by the kitchen to watch the noodles being pounded out). But my question always with traditional Asian restaurants, and especially those like Nan Zhou that feature soup, is, "Is anything vegetarian?"
I'm happy to report that there are two vegetarian dishes at Nan Zhou, the small and always bustling (meaning get in and get out, 'cause others are waiting) Chinatown restaurant. Two dishes may not seem like a lot, but most of the menu is just meaty variations of noodle soup. Oh, and for the adventurous non-vegetarians there are spicy pigs ears, marinated intestines, and marinated beef tendons in the appetizer section to keep you busy. For $3, a small plate of noodles with peanut sauce and scallions is the cheapest way to fill up. These are great, fresh, chewy noodles with a basic, salty and nutty sauce that was a bit stiff, but a few spoonfuls of my partner's soup broth loosened the noodles right up. No where near as transcendent as Han Dynasty's garlicky sesame noodle dish that will have you dreaming about a plate of noodles (and tasting it) for days, but for $3, you can't complain.
Noodle soups come with either hand drawn noodles or shaved noodles (knife-cut and thicker), and if you don't specify, you're getting the hand drawn noodles, which is what most people get.

The large, $4.50 bowl of steaming vegetable noodle soup has Asian greens, scallions, and cilantro swimming in a piping-hot, mild vegetable broth with a pleasant hint of star anise that can be spiced up with the usual suspects of condiments on the table — soy sauce, vinegar, Sriracha, and chilis in oil. But the fresh, tender noodles are the star here, and you'll think you can't finish the whole bowl, but you will.

Slurp your winter-cold little hearts out vegetarians, because this bowl of noodle soup might be one of only a handful of traditional Asian noodle soups in the city you can enjoy.

Update: The vegetarian-ness of the vegetable noodle soup is dubious. Proceed at your own risk.

Nan Zhou Hand Drawn Noodle House
927 Race St., Philadelphia, PA 19107
215-923-1550
Sun-Thurs: 11am-9pm
Fri-Sat: 11am-10pm

Simply Asia Sweet and Sour Chow Mein Take Out Box

Keepitcoming and I are getting a cat, and that's why I'm writing about this.

No, that's not the reason, but I did want to tell you that we're getting a cat and that we're not totally helpless about it! Well, Keepitcoming isn't.

The first thing I want to do when our kitten comes home is feed her this noodle dish. She's a Siamese cat and although this isn't explicitly Thai, per se, but I figure this is a good start. The dish in question is Simply Asia Sweet and Sour Chow Mein noodles in an authentic take out box, and it would make Swagger cry.It's not a bad dish- if you're a crybaby who hasn't tried Chinese food, a college student with a budget for more than ramen, or a Midwesterner who thinks this is authentic. But for anyone not encompassing those categories, you're going to think this is a bit of a cop-out. The dish comes with noodles, sauce, vegetables, and a topping. One touch that I liked was that the noodles were cooked and vacuum sealed so they came out looking moderately fresh. I have had instant noodles from China that use this technique and I much prefer it to dried noodles.

Everything came together looking pretty decent. The contents of the box were pretty varied. The seasoning came in sauce form and looked sickly sweet. The vegetables, a feature I typically omit, were so sparse that even I felt as though leaving them out would be no worse than leaving them in, so I decided to add them for a little bit of color. After cooking, I let them sit and poured on the topping- dried shallots and sesame seeds.The first thing I noticed about this was how small the portion was in relation to the size of the box it came in, resembling Chinese leftovers rather than a full dish. When I normally get takeout, the box is packed full of noodles. Here, it only filled a third of the box. Luckily, that was enough for me. I didn't see anything in the flavor or texture of these noodles that would have made me want to eat an entire box. As it was, I could barely finish half before I lost interest.The noodles absorbed a good deal of the sauce after microwaving to the point of being just sticky and cooked, not saucy at all, and clumped together at the bottom of the box. It was hard to stir them around to get them mixed in with the rest of the toppings without getting them tangled. They were firm noodles and did not break easily. The flavor was pretty mediocre. It was mainly sweet, carrying very little vinegar, and wasn't integrated as much as I would have liked it to be. The sesame seeds added a welcome crunch and a nice nutty flavor, and the vegetables had evaporated to nothing in the microwave.

I tried the rest of these the next afternoon after they'd cooled down, and they were still the same. I wouldn't be inclined to try these again especially since fresh Chinese cuisine is so readily available, cheap, and more authentic than this. Though there was nothing particularly offensive about them, $4.29 is too high a price to pay for the "delivery experience" of a sub-par, half portioned vegetarian dish. Perhaps our cat will like them better, as the ASPCA would likely skewer me for feeding her Szechuan hot-pot.