Cult classic cereals are fascinating.

The Rocky Horrors of the breakfast world, this ragtag bunch of sweethearts from across time and space have won the lifelong loyalty of a select few weirdos (meant in the most loving way) who may have only had them a few times, but would risk life, limb, and even liver to taste them again.

For me, it’s Neopets Islandberry Crunch. Fellow cereal pundit Gabe Fonseca has a proclivity for Sprinkle Spangles. And for a whole bunch of others, including Marvo of The Impulsive Buy, Banana Frosted Flakes has kept their eyes peeled for a suitable substitute since the early ’80s.

Though I’m left unripely green with envy that I never got to try Tony’s classic Banana Flakes, I’m hoping Kellogg’s new Banana Creme Frosted Flakes will fulfill its forefather’s lingering hype. More so, I hope it successfully charts a whole new niche for an already undersung fruit flavor. For the past few years have seen Banana Berry, Banana Bread, Banana Split, and Banana Pudding cereals, but our mom’s favorite banana dessert has stayed mum.

Until now, that is. So go ahead, Anthony T. Tiger: pie me in the face.

Ever had a pie made of squished-up candy? Now I can say I have.

The initial flavor of every Banana Creme Frosted Flake—each visually indistinguishable from their de-fruited ancestors—is surprisingly gentle. Tony’s opening move is lightly sweetened and ‘nannered, reminding me of a real banana—if it were wearing a whipped cream pompadour not unlike my own (artist’s rendition).

But once you get into the tender yellow meat of each spoonful, the artificiality kicks in. Or should I say kicks your door in: bright, candied and lightly flowery, this is the instantly familiar taste of a Banana Laffy Taffy—albeit one that got a thin layer of malted marshmallow fluff spread on it like sweet, sweet campfire butter.

It’s tasty, but can get repetitively sweet pretty fast. Just like how I can’t eat more than two Banana Laffy Taffy before seeking the diversely juicy respite of a Strawberry, anything larger than a small bowl of Banana Creme Frosted Flakes leaves me ideating horizon-widening mix-ins: Chocolate Frosted Flakes, Strawberry Krispies, and/or Peanut Butter Crunch would all fit the bill nicely.

Or you could just go ‘double banana or nothing’ and ground this stuff’s saccharine ambitions in something earthen.

Milk is a great (just one R, sorry Tony) choice for equalizing the overall real–fake banana journey. It brings the two sides together, downplaying the florally sweet pops and adding creamy depth to the previously tiresome candied routine. Imagine the last triumphant bite of a banana split, when the Caesar-ed up banana gives up its final, vanilla-soaked ghost. I just wish milk didn’t neutralize the mouthwatering malted garnish, but that’s what the meringue blowtorch is for.

So it’s not quite my breakfast B(C)FF, but Banana Creme Frosted Flakes is a welcome treat all the same. More wrapped candy than crusted pie, the simplicity of its flavor journey is also its strength, making it the better of the two new Frosted Flakes varieties and a cereal unlikely to face the same fate as most bananas I buy: eternally shriveled up in the back of my freezer like one of nature’s frost-burned Fudgsicle.

I swear, I’ll make bread out of them tomorrow. I can’t let them tell anyone how many cheese-stuffed pretzel bites I buy.