Category Archives: Food

Xinjiang cuisine, Bai Hua Mountain, the oldest standing dim sum house in Guangzhou, Beijing Road, and a mall Anpanman play house mishap

Posted on by
Reply

Xinjiang, the Uygur Autonomous Region of China, is located in the northwestern part of China and is particularly interesting in its cuisine because it fuses together Chinese cuisine along with many different ethnic groups that represent Xinjiang, such as Uygur, Kazak, Tibetan, Mongal, Russian, and the list goes on. Xinjiang food has a lot of roast mutton and lamb, kebabs, bread made in round coal ovens. The spices used in this cuisine are also very different than anything Han Chinese: Islamic spices are the norm on meats you eat here. If you like meat, bread, and spices, Xinjiang cuisine will most definitely be your thing.

Chris was in a very meaty mood when we arrived in Guangzhou. After eating a smaller meal of chang fen (stuffed rice noodle rolls) and noodle soup with fish dumplings and fish balls, he annoyingly told me he was not satisfied and still wanted something more “substantial.” So we came across an area walking distance from our hotel where there were a number of Xinjiang restaurants. We popped into one on the second floor of a building that was beautifully decorated with multicolored glass lanterns and decided to sit down. There was a tea fee at this restaurant that was mandatory, so I chose a xue ju (I guess that translates as snow daisy or snow chrysanthemum?) tea that I’d never heard of before. It was a bright orange, almost red hued liquid, and the flavor was floral and almost smoky at the same time. We also ordered the roast lamb in a naan pit and a stir fried spicy noodle dish with vegetables for Kaia. When the lamb arrived at our table, it was served on massive metal skewers along with a tasty red and orange (but not hot) herb/spice mixture and slices of raw onion. It was absolutely delicious and cooked perfectly; even Kaia gnawed at the meat until it was just bones. We had so much meat that we ended up taking a decent chunk of it to go.

Today, after a delicious breakfast buffet at our hotel, we took a DiDi ride to Bai Hua (“One hundred flowers”) Mountain, then took the cable car up to the summit (or what we thought was the summit). From there, we could see the views of all of Guangzhou in all its cloudy, polluted haze. At the time we arrived that morning, you could just see Canton Tower through the haziness, but by the time we left, it was pretty much invisible to the naked eye. As we walked around the eating areas, I was shocked to see how extensive the menus were. If you were at a similar spot in the U.S. where you got a cable car ride up to a summit, you might have some really fancy (and overpriced) food options as well as fast food stuff (hello, burgers, fries, and chicken tenders), which would be more typical. But here, I was so impressed: for snacks, you could get made-to-order Hong Kong style egg waffles, also known as bubble waffles, which are super crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside (and if you are lucky, filled with something delicious and gooey, like matcha cream, strawberry, or even durian!); fresh tofu pudding, a whole steamed fish (yes, really); and if that was not enough: AN ENTIRE BANQUET STYLE MEAL. I was floored looking at the spreads of food that people were casually eating outdoors on this semi-warm, cloudy day.

For lunch, we went to the famous Bejing Road, known for its endless foodie delights. And we went to a location of the the oldest standing dim sum house (since 1880) in Guangzhou: Tao Tao Ju. They have multiple locations now, and unfortunately, while I did not bring us to the original location, I was pleased to see that this new location retained all the charms of the original with its traditional Chinese architecture and decor. I knew this dim sum experience was going to be good as soon as the server confirmed that yes, they did have chrysanthemum tea (I’ve already had multiple places tell me that they either don’t have it, or they make you pay an up-charge for it); and when the tea pot came, the server placed it on a little warmer with a lit candle inside it.

The service was straightforward, and the ordering was easy because most dishes had photos with Chinese descriptions. They also won brownie points with me because they immediately gave Pookster a little kids’ (unbreakable) plate, plus a disposable bib with a little toy truck with ladder. The most notable dishes we had at this tea experience were also some of the most basic, but executed extremely well: the siu mai (shao mai) had delicious flavor and perfect texture between the crispness of the prawn against the chewiness of the minced mushrooms, and the softness and fattiness of the pork. The “cherry” on top, which I honestly could not appreciate but liked the presentation of, were the black caviar on top of each. Their Tao Tao Ju version of ha gao, or Tao Tao Ju “big prawn dumplings,” were perfect, with well executed and crisp prawns along with a thin and soft tapioca based dumpling skin. I also loved their version of nor mai gai (nuo mi ji), sticky glutinous rice with savory chicken, mushroom, and abalone (what a surprise! I went back and translated the Chinese character which I mistakenly thought was fish, but it actually said abalone), wrapped into a steaming lotus leaf. The “cute” dish I ordered were liu sha bao, or egg yolk lava custard buns, decorated on the outside to look like little piggies. This was the one thing Kaia actually ate in full at this meal.

Random other fun things we did along Beijing Road: we got already prepared fruit that we picked ourselves from a fruit vendor, with the main highlights being the fresh and sweet jackfruit and the cherries (Kaia ate ALL the cherries); even the free cantaloupe the vendor threw in were sweet! Chris found a shop called Han Xiao Liu that specializes in durian products. He picked up a durian-shaped ice cream stick for us to share; it had 30 percent durian in it! I also went hunting for a bathroom that actually had toilet seats for Kaia since she cannot deal with the squat toilets here, which led me back into the mall that Tao Tao Ju was in. That led us to stumble upon an Anpanman themed kids’ playhouse. Kaia ran into it and slid down the slide three times until an employee was checking who knows what and kicked her and another little friend out. She motioned toward the sign when another parent came to protest. I translated the sign with my translator app to discover that in order to allow Kaia to play here, while it would be free, I’d still need to register as a user on WeChat… which I obviously didn’t do. WeChat and Alipay rule here!

I was aware that China was on the road to becoming a cashless society based on what I read; I was not aware exactly how little cash I’d see while here… which is to say, NONE. Literally every vendor or shop only took payment via AliPay or WeChat; even homeless people begged with a WeChat or AliPay sign for you to transfer money directly to them. Chris had planned ahead and had downloaded both apps. I just didn’t realize that even a kids’ playhouse would require a WeChat registration. It sounded nuts to me, but I suppose that’s the goal of the Chinese government: to literally track every movement of its citizens as well as its visitors. Ouch.

Back to Hong Kong on the glorious Cathay Pacific

Posted on by
Reply

Flying Cathay Pacific is one of the greatest flight experiences. But to be fair, service on even budget Asian airlines is always top notch. When I’m flying on an Asian carrier, it always makes me think how extremely basic to nearly nonexistent “service” is on U.S.-based carriers. On Cathay, I am always greeted by name, or “Ms. Wong.” It seems like such a little thing, but it always feels so formal and welcoming. Occasionally on American Airlines, they greet me this way when acknowledging my status, but that is a rare occasion. If I have pre-ordered/chosen a meal on Cathay, the flight attendant will have always done their homework and confirm that was the chose that I made (unlike on American airlines, where they barely check anything before they get on board and ask you what you would like, and then look surprised when you tell them you pre-ordered). Flying on Cathay or JAL is an experience in itself during your travel; they define what it means when people say, “It’s not about the destination, but the journey.” While I certainly do want to get to my destination, I absolutely love the in-flight experience, from the appetizers to mains to desserts to snacks to the drinks (they have their own signature drink called the Cathay Delight! It has just three ingredients that most definitely delight: fresh squeezed kiwi juice, coconut milk, and mint) to the service itself.

I also love that they have a Western option vs. a Chinese option. Why you would choose to fly on Cathay and select the Western meal (unless you are from somewhere in Asia and need something “different”) is beyond my comprehension. For my breakfast option, I was served century egg and shredded pork congee, stir-fried egg noodles with mixed vegetables, and mixed fruit. And the lunch option I chose is one of my comfort foods: braised short ribs with egg noodle soup. The egg noodle soup was perfect in pretty much every way: the brisket was flavorful and melt-in-your-mouth tender; the noodles were slightly springy and al dente, and the soup itself was multi-noted and extremely fragrant and savory. For once, Kaia actually ate most of her two kids’ meals in flight (well, with me spoon-feeding her as she happily got way too much screen time with Pepa Pig…); she even finished off my soup and seemed obsessed with it.

After we arrived in Hong Kong and dropped off our bags at the hotel, we went out in search for our first meal, which I wanted to be roast goose. We never get the option of roast goose at Cantonese style roast meat places (not that duck or pork is a bad option!), so while in Hong Kong, we want to maximize our time here. So we chose a spot that was walking distance from our hotel. We sat down, ordered half a roast goose, rice, noodles, and a plate of blanched yu choy (you cai) with oyster sauce on the side. It had been so long (since end of 2015-early 2016) when I was last in Hong Kong, so I had forgotten that most places do not provide napkins/serviettes, so we ended up paying $2 HKD for a small packet. But regardless, the meal hit the spot and was delicious. According to people who know way more about geese and ducks than I do, goose tends to be fattier than duck, and a tiny bit gamier. Both have a pretty thick fat layer between their skin and flesh. To be honest, in the moment I couldn’t really tell the difference. But I really enjoyed the crispy skin and all the drippings that flavored the rice we ordered. The meat was juicy, soft, and tender. It was so satisfying, and a great way to welcome us into eating the little world that is Hong Kong.

When we were on our way from the airport to the hotel, our driver and I had some small talk about living in Hong Kong vs. New York. He complained about the rapidly rising cost of living in Hong Kong and said that things that were once cheap were now extremely expensive (sounds like the complaints of pretty much everyone everywhere, self included). He even used the English word for “inflation” to emphasize how frustrating it all was. In general, Cantonese-style roast meats, known as 燒味 siu mei in Cantonese or shao wei in Mandarin, are considered a delicacy in Chinese cuisine — an integral style of cooking that makes Cantonese cuisine (粤菜 or Yue Cai) so highly respected across China. Though dishes like cha siu (Cantonese-style BBQ roast pork) are nearly daily staples that tend to be more affordable at roast meat shops in Chinatowns around the world, dishes like roast goose and duck are always far more expensive, as they require a bit more skill. Though I’ll be honest and say that I wasn’t totally expecting our half roast goose to come out to 258 HKD, or just over $33. I was fine to pay it since we never get roast goose, and we’re on holiday in Hong Kong anyway, so why not while here? But these sounded like prices I’d pay for a similar half duck or goose in New York. So, this definitely wasn’t the cheap eats meal I was remembering from 2015-2016 for sure. However, I suppose to even it out, our decently-sized plate of yu choy was only 20 HKD, or just over $2.50 USD. It’s a give and take world here in post COVID-19 pandemic Hong Kong while in a high inflation period. I’ll still be happy to eat all, but I know that the “cheap eats” is all relatively defined, and a lot of things, if cheaper, will only be marginally cheaper than back home in New York.

Australian Kensington Pride (KP mangoes), lychees, and cherries

Posted on by
Reply

Today, we spent time in the suburbs of Springvale and Clayton, eating and snacking our way around. One of my favorite things to do in Springvale is to walk through Springvale Centre, where there are endless rows of fresh produce, almost all locally grown in Australia, and all the stuff I absolutely love: EXOTIC FRUIT. In previous years, we’d purchased jackfruit, but this year, it seemed like the big focus on the day we came was mangoes, lychees, and cherries. They had about four or five varieties of mangoes, including a green sour mango that is meant to be eaten crunchy. I was able to sample these, and while they were very satisfying and even slightly sweet, when I think of mangoes, I really want the juicy sweet ones. So I bargained for and purchased some Kensington Pride mangoes, Australian grown lychees, and cherries. The lychees were much different in appearance from the ones we’ve bought in New York Chinatown: the skins seem to be a paler, almost brighter pink. And the flesh of the lychee seems like a more vibrant white color. In addition, the texture of the lychee seems crunchier! These were exceptionally sweet, almost floral and candy-like in flavor. They were so addictive! Even though we’d purchased over a kilo, somehow we got through them so quickly!

We brought them home and shared them with Chris’s parents, and of course, Kaia got to indulge in them; she has totally loved lychees since her very first time eating them as a baby. This time, however, was Kaia’s first opportunity to navigate lychees and their pits. Previously, I’d always peeled and de-pitted them for her to enjoy. She’s been lazy with peeling, even though I know she’s certainly capable of doing it. So I relented and just gave the lychees to her peeled. She expertly navigated the pits, sometimes even instructing ME, step by step, on how to chew and spit out the pit, “Into the bowl, mummy!” I love these moments when I can witness my baby acting like a big girl, becoming a little more independent and savvy every day. It seems basic, to navigate a fruit pit. But hey, it must be learned, and when she masters something new, her mama is always proud.

The World Gourmet Awards – Shandong Mama wins!

Posted on by
Reply

On our first full day back in Melbourne, the three of us spent the afternoon wandering around Melbourne’s central business district (CBD), looking at all the fun and summery Christmas decor, and viewing the Christmas windows at Myer, which this year are Irwin Zoo themed, and luckily for us, had no queues for us to deal with. So we were able to see each of the window displays with ease. We also walked through Melbourne CBD’s Chinatown, and made an obligatory stop at Shandong Mama, my favorite Shandong-style dumpling shop I’ve been going to since 2013, when I first discovered them. When I first started going there, it was a relatively under the radar, small hole-in-the-wall in the Mid-City Arcade in Chinatown. Since then, I have read that local magazines and newspapers have written that Shandong Mama is all the rage with Melbourne (and Australia’s) top chefs, and it’s literally been featured on every single “Best Dumplings of Melbourne” list. The menu has expanded, as well as the prices…

We made a quick pit stop here for Shandong Mama’s famous Spanish mackerel and chive dumplings, which were just as pillowy, fluffy, moussey, and well seasoned with ginger and other spices as I can always remember. Every year we come back, and I am thrilled to see that their quality has not changed at all despite their increasing demand and success. And how exciting: they posted this huge sign of Shandong Mama, a retired former accountant from Shandong, posing at the World Gourmet Awards 2023, having won the 2023 Lifestyle Dining Award! I felt so happy for their success, as well as my undying loyalty to their deliciousness.

The regional cuisine of China is becoming more and more well known. People are recognizing how nuanced and different the flavors of China can be. And I’m happy I’ve been lucky to have been eating these dumplings for the last 11 years and supporting one of the eight regional Chinese cuisines that Melbourne is known for!

Roasting “whole” chickens, bones, and stock

Posted on by
Reply

After 2.5 years of never buying any whole chicken, I finally got a whole, organic, air-chilled chicken from Whole Foods this past week since it was on sale. Nowadays, I always chuckle a little to myself thinking about “whole chickens” in the U.S. because when you buy a “whole chicken,” it is never really whole unless you are getting it alive or directly from a farm and asking for it to be presented to you in a certain way. What I mean is: if you pick up a whole chicken at Albertson’s, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, or a related grocery store chain, your “whole chicken” will have no head, neck, or feet attached. All the organs will be removed. And of course, it will be completely de-feathered. If you buy a non-kosher bird, you’ll likely have a little wax packet on the inside cavity of the bird that contains its heart and neck. Our experience of buying a “whole chicken” in the U.S. is so far removed from, say, how people buy “whole chickens” in Asia. I remember going through different markets in countries from Vietnam to Thailand to Cambodia and actually seeing the legs, claws, necks, and heads still attached. People would freak out here if they saw those things. While I don’t necessarily have any desire to gut or defeather a chicken I am cooking, I would appreciate having things like the feet still in tact or at least included; all those chicken feet could be gathered for some collagen rich chicken stock, which I always like to make after I roast at least two chickens, save all the bones, and have enough vegetable scraps gathered in my freezer. 

I spatchcocked my chicken, removing the back bone and flattening the body, and roasted it for 45 minutes undisturbed. While it roasted, I made an au jus with the chicken neck I cut up, along with some mirepoix, water, and my remaining dry sherry I use for cooking. I reduced it and strained it. And we had the chicken. I forgot after all this time how satisfying it was to roast a whole bird (“whole” in the American sense). I realized how much I missed doing this more semi-regularly and accumulating all my roasted bones for stock. Most of the stock I’ve made this year have been vegetable or bean based, plus a couple dashi batches I made from seaweed and bonito I got from a Japanese market. I made a mental note to make chicken stock more regularly next year. 

Bo kho and lemongrass

Posted on by
Reply

I had two pounds of beef chuck leftover in the freezer from a Costco run back in the spring from an original bulk purchase of four pounds of beef chuck cubes. I used the original two pounds for beef rendang using the Sambal Lady’s rendang spice blend. The second two pounds were TBD what I wanted to use it for, but after being reminded of bo kho, or Vietnamese beef stew with lemongrass and five spiced powder, I decided that this would be my next stewed beef dish. 

I’ve had bo kho a few times in restaurants, but I’d never actually made it before despite it being fairly straightforward to make. It’s made with beef chuck cubes, five spice powder, whole spices like star anise, clove, and bay leaf, aromatics like garlic, ginger, and freshly pounded lemongrass, and fish sauce as seasoning. You add carrots and pureed tomatoes for additional flavor and body. It’s braised for several hours until the beef is fork tender and the liquid is reduced down into a thicker liquid, great on top of noodles and rice. Oftentimes, if you order this dish in a restaurant, it will be served with a fresh baguette to dip into the stew juices. 

While I was preparing this dish, I realized that I actually hadn’t purchased any fresh lemongrass since we lived on the Upper East Side. I had forgotten how aromatic and delicious it was. The reason I haven’t bought it is that lemongrass is pretty annoying to prepare. It’s hard, woody, and annoying to chop properly so that you can actually eat it. In this stew, you don’t eat the lemongrass pieces; they need to be plucked out because they’re used just to flavor the stew. I ended up having to spend all this time manually picking out all the pieces after braising so that I wouldn’t have to annoy myself or Chris later with picking it out while eating. 

After several hours of braising and reducing the stew liquid down, I tasted the stew and decided it was done. As I started ladling it into my storage containers last night, I realized that in a time when I feel like I have little control over the world and life events, the few things I do have control over include what I cook and eat. And cooking is something I enjoy all the time, and it especially provides comfort during a time when I feel like the world is loveless. So I will savor this stew tomorrow and try to hope for a brighter tomorrow. 

Not all gai mei bao are made the same: a taste test of Manhattan Chinatown bakeries

Posted on by
Reply

Gai mei bao (ji wei bao in Mandarin), also known as cocktail bun or coconut bun in English, and is literally translated into “chicken tail bun,” is one of the most popular types of bao in a Chinese bakery. It was originally made (according to Chinese food legends) from the scraps of leftover bread and dough at Chinese bakeries, where they’d mash together leftover scraps of bread with some sugar, butter, and coconut and try to sell them as actual bao the next day. It’s called “chicken tail” bao because of the shape of the bun itself, so there’s no actual chicken or tail in it. I always loved this bao, but I didn’t actually find out what it was called in English until several years ago. I’d try to order “coconut bao” in English and Chinese at bakeries, but I was not consistently getting the same thing handed to me. Sometimes, it would just be a plain milk-type bun with coconut sprinkled on top (ugh, so boring and plain). Other times, it would be stuffed with just coconut but nothing else. There wasn’t that buttery, coconuty, slightly sweet gooey filling on the inside that I really loved.

So the other day, I decided to do a side by side tasting of three ji wei bao: one from Nice One Bakery, one from Mei Lai Wah (famous for its long lines and pineapple cha siu bao that I think have too much fat pieces stuck in them), and one from Manna House Bakery. I always loved the Mei Lai Wah one, but I strongly disliked the lines. Plus, when I’d try to pick one up later in the day, they’d oftentimes be sold out of it, as they didn’t make as many of them as they do the bo lo cha siu bao. The Manna House Bakery one is my go-to since there’s no line or wait; it costs $1.75, the same as Nice One, which I’d never had before. Mei Lai Wah’s was the most expensive at $2.50 + tax, so $2.70. That’s over 57% more for the Mei Lai Wah one!

Well, I took them all home and sliced them to see their innards. I laid them all out side by side. The verdict? The Nice One was the worst with the least amount of filling. It was nearly pathetic and a sad excuse for a ji wei bao; that’s the first and last time I ever get one from there. The Manna House one had good filling and was tasty as always, but honestly, it could not compare to how much filling the Mei Lai Wah ji wei bao had: Mei Lai Wah’s was STUFFED to the brim with filling. Plus, the filling was just richer and had a stronger, more defined mouthfeel. The filling color for the Mei Lai Wah one was much more yellow, whereas the Manna House one was more white, which likely indicates how much more butter the Mei Lai Wah version has (for better or for worse… for taste or for your cholesterol…).

I will still get the Manna House ji wei bao out of convenience, but the best ji wei bao/gai mei bao in Manhattan Chinatown is most definitely the Mei Lai Wah one. I will always go there for the best version assuming I’m there earlier in the day and there’s no wait. I’ll never get the Nice One ji wei bao again, but I do quite love their baked cha siu bao and baked bo lo cha siu bao. Maybe my next taste test of Chinatown bakery items will be a true side by side of the bo lo/pineapple cha siu bao from Nice One, Mei Lai Wah, and Manna House next!

Chi Cha San Chen Taiwan tea in Manhattan Chinatown

Posted on by
Reply

Since I was going to be in the Chinatown/SoHo area for Kaia’s Halloween parade yesterday, I decided to book a 15-minute oolong tea tasting at Chi Cha San Chen Taiwan Tea, which opened last summer on Bayard off of Mott Street. I had never heard of them before, but they had lines around the block when they opened for months and months. I always wanted to go, but I refused to wait in the crazy line. Chi Cha San Chen is a high-end tea shop based in Taichung, Taiwan. They make tea drinks with pure tea leaves grown in Taiwan (no powders), and make all their own toppings, like tapioca, jellies, etc. They differentiate themselves with what they call a “teaspresso” machine that is supposed to brew tea to ideal conditions. I had never heard of them before (and definitely didn’t know about them when we went to Taiwan in June-July 2017), but I found out that they have won international taste tests for their oolong teas. Some have called Chi Cha San Chen “Michelin-star-like” tea in the tea community. Though I am an avid tea drinker and always intrigued by different, pure teas (none of the flavored garbage. Yes, I’m looking at you, David’s Tea, UGH), I always find it a bit amusing whenever I hear about tea “awards” since tea is pretty personal. What could be delicious for one person can be completely revolting for the next.

The tea tasting was a bit of a disappointment. I thought I would get to try several teas, but instead, they only let me choose one out of the five types of Taiwanese oolong they sell. They told me that if I came back with up to three friends, we could all choose a different one so we could taste four at the same time, one each. I was not happy with this, but I figured I’d just choose one and come back at a later time. I chose the medium strength oolong. They precisely measured out exactly three grams of tea, then poured in perfectly measured tea at a specific temperature and brewed for six minutes on the dot. They strained and poured it for me in a cup that is shaped like a chawan. They wouldn’t let me have any second or third infusions (what a waste!!). While the tea was very aromatic, almost floral, and not even the least bit bitter or acidic, the “tasting” experience put me off. Tastings are supposed to include more than just one, otherwise it just seems like a sad, glorified sample. Plus, the price was quite exorbitant: 15 grams of tea, or exactly five brewings, for $22. Ouch. I’ve bought plenty of premium tea before, but only one of them, the “Chanel” of green teas, which was a bamboo green, that I got while in Sichuan, topped this price.

I think I will stick with their tea lattes and made-to-order drinks, which are all made with loose leaf, instead of trying out their vacuum-sealed loose leaf ones. I liked it, but not enough to buy it to make at home. That just seemed a bit too steep for me.

An unusually umami cucumber salad

Posted on by
Reply

On Monday night, a friend and I met on St. Mark’s Place in the East Village to have dinner and catch up. I chose a new Chinese noodle shop called Loong Noodles where you order and pay via a kiosk at the front. Then, someone comes out to your table to bring you your order. We got two orders of noodles, as well as a garlic cucumber salad and pork-and-cabbage dumplings as starters. The food was all delicious and toothy, and though my wan za noodles weren’t as notable and multifaceted in flavor and texture as the wan za noodles I recently had in the Bronx, I still enjoyed these and would come back to this spot.

The funny thing about coming to Loong Noodles was that the cucumber salad we ordered was likely the most unusual dish. When the salad plate came out, I noticed a ton of finely minced garlic, which of course would mean the cucumber salad would be extremely pungent. What I was surprised by was that when I took my first bite and chewed, the flavor was *not* what I anticipated. There was this strong umami, savory flavor, as though a chicken bouillon or broth was used. Or, perhaps they sprinkled in a little MSG into the salad dressing? Either way, every bite of the cucumber salad was a tiny explosion of umami savoriness, and it was hard to not notice it, especially since I’ve never even once had this flavor or sensation in my mouth with any other cucumber salad I’d had in my life.

We had a good amount left over, so I had it packed up to take home to enjoy. This definitely makes the list of dishes I’ve had this year that did not taste how I expected.

Trader Joe’s: limited time, ephemeral items

Posted on by
Reply

Since I was young, I have always loved Trader Joe’s (let’s please put aside their shady practices with doing business with small business owners for a minute). Their products are generally cleaner and have fewer gross ingredients. The packaging is always fun. The prices are most definitely always low, relatively speaking. I still have fond memories from when I was in high school, and my dad found a delicious kiwi gooseberry jam from TJs. I was completely obsessed, and I was never a big jam person. It had this really great balance of light sweetness with tartness, and it tasted like real fruit, just mashed up. I also liked the occasional chunk of gooseberry I got in my mouth while eating it. I requested he get more of it each time he went to Trader Joe’s, which was maybe once every couple of months. One day, he returned from a Trader Joe’s trip and said that my beloved green-hued jam was no longer there, that they had discontinued it. I was completely crushed: WHY? I asked. It was so, so good. Who could have that unique, delicious jam and not be completely enamored with it?

Then in my college years, Trader Joe’s carried their own version of Nutella, but far higher quality: their hazelnut chocolate spread had 31 percent hazelnut, unlike Nutella, which only had about 10-11 percent hazelnut. Each weekend breakfast at Wellesley in the dining halls, I’d take it down with me and have it be my weekend indulgence. I’d spread it on a piece of whole wheat toast and savor the nutty chocolatey flavor. And then, of course, that item also got discontinued.

As of late, the item I’m sad about, but was warned about from the beginning, is the Trader Joe’s organic tart cherry fruit spread. The Fearless Flyer told me it was available in limited quantities, made with organic Turkish sour cherries. I love, love, love all things sour cherry related. So when I saw it on the jam shelf in the spring, I immediately got the 15 oz jar (for only $4.29 – what a steal!). I made the mistake of never opening it at the time to see how good it was. Chris just opened it this week (over 5 months after I originally got it… AHHHH), and we both agreed this jam was phenomenal. I immediately got sad, though. I knew it was a limited release, and I didn’t act on it. I could have been smart about it and opened it when I got it back in May, declared it delicious, then gone back to Trader Joe’s and gotten four more jars to stock up for the future. But… I didn’t.

I guess this is just another lesson to myself for the future with limited stock items at Trader Joe’s. And maybe, it’s also a lesson to just enjoy what I have now… before it’s all gone.