Trader Joe’s. You’ve probably heard his name before. Maybe it was uttered on the lips of a semi-homemade cook, or possibly a broke student, but today you’re going to hear about him from me.
I distinctly remember when a Trader Joe’s opened in Union Square. I was in middle school at the time, and was staring through the glass window on the M14. The line literally wrapped around the block, and to top it off there was even a bouncer, controlling the flow of eager shoppers. A store with night club-like security? I knew in that moment that me and Joe were meant to be.
Since that fateful opening me and Joe have been inseperable. He provides me with delicious food that I’m too lazy to make myself, and I provide him with my paltry earnings to keep his doors open. It’s an unhealthy codependent relationship. It’s delicious.
So today I made myself a hot steamy (fried- yes I fried them, don’t look at me that way) batch of Thai Shrimp Gyoza, or as we like to call them in my home “those frozen dumplings from jo’s”, in honor of Trader Joe’s (or my hunger).
P.S. I express my regret for teasing those unlucky folks who don’t have access to my man Joe