Tag Archives: 6 rating

Review: Steak ‘n Shake Breakfast Cereal Milkshakes (Cinnamon Crunch & Honey Smacks)

Steak 'n Shake Breakfast Cereal Milkshakes

Whoever first decided to pair milkshakes with cereal deserves a monument. Only a giant marble shake cup will do, preferably filled with liquid platinum and gold nuggets to stand in for soft serve-soaked cereal nibs. It’s an unexpectedly genius idea: sure, cereal and milk have an esteemed history, but you don’t generally associate an indulgent dessert like a milkshake with anything breakfast related—unless you had a bad night at the casino and want to make one last terrible 4am choice.

Now I may revoke my celebration of the breakfast shake’s inventor if this confection enables the shuddersome creation of cereal-infused cheese, but for now, let’s celebrate this golden age of shakes by uniting sugared cereals and cold cream cylinders in holy gastro-matrimony—at a place that’s literally 50% founded on milkshakes.

Yes, Steak ‘n Shake has 5 new Breakfast Shakes—technically 4, because one is Caramel Latte and you can tell the other shakes are only bringing him along because their moms made them (I’ve been there, buddy…as Caramel Latte). I intend to review all of them—Frosted Flakes, Cocoa Krispies, Cinnamon Crunch, and Honey Smacks—eventually, but based on how late my shake-seeking partner and I made it to The House of Beef and Lactose, I didn’t want to be up until 4am with a sugar-addled brain and an abdomen swollen to the size of a cow’s first three stomachs.

Because at that point, I’d feel terrible enough to go back for a fifth. Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Frosted Mixed Berry Shredded Wheat Cereal

Post Frosted Mixed Berry Shredded Wheat Cereal Review – Box

Well, well, well: here we are again, Shredded Wheat.

My first experience with one of Shredded Wheat’s new trilogy of flavors, which not-so-subtly tries top compete with Frosted Mini-Wheats by, well, frosting the brand’s iconic miniature wheat biscuits and stuffing (allegedly) flavorful stuff inside, was cosmically bland. I swore I wouldn’t try another flavor. I started smashing all square and/or thatched things in my apparent. I even told people I was allergic to wheat—just the sight of it, not the taste.

But after being coerced by a trusted source to give this Mixed Berry variety a try, and after (unsurprisingly) failing to find Count Chocula when it’s still hot enough out to boil swimming pools into holy water, I find myself staring at a bowlful of vaguely mauve biscuits.

Alright, Shredded Wheat. Let’s do this. Just don’t forget: bore me once, shame on you. Bore me twice, I’m going to start crank-calling the National Wheat Foundation out of juvenile spite. Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Cocoa Puffs Ice Cream Scoops Cereal

Neapolitan Cocoa Puffs Ice Cream Scoops Cereal Review – Box

Neapolitan ice cream is criminally underrated. I mean, it combines the three most popular ice cream flavors (though I still can’t fathom how plain ol’ vanilla is more popular than Chocozuma’s Revenge, Chocolardiac Arrest, or any of those other “X-Treme Ice Creamz”) into one—sometimes even in snowman form—and we still hardly see it appear in things other than ice cream. Heck, even Naples itself has a flag that looks more like Superman ice cream than neapolitan’s iconic pink, brown, and creme.

And before these new neapolitan Cocoa Puffs Ice Cream Scoops, there has been only one other neapolitan cereal—and it was only released in New Zealand. I guess America will have to make the first kiwi cereal as revenge.

But enough melty melancholia. Let’s see if these strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate Cocoa Puffs are good enough to turn my local Baskin-Robbins’ 31 flavors into 401k. Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Honeycomb Cereal (Now with Bigger Flavor!)

Post Bigger Flavor Honeycomb Cereal Box

Not since Andre the Giant menacingly knocked on the Honeycomb Hideout’s window have I been so geeked to eat a bowl of Honeycomb cereal.

Sure, the stuff has had fun flavor iterations—Strawberry, Chocolate, Cinna-Graham—and it even briefly got “Twisted Marshmallows” 3 years back in a decades-late attempt to capitalize on the “X-Treme Snax” movement of the radical ’90s. But it has also progressively lost its flavor, as not one, but two ill-received formula changes in the early 2000s left Honeycomb a squishy and styrofoam-y compared to the golden-smacked Golden God it was before the turn of the century.

All that BIG HONEY TASTE Andre had roared about went to go live on a bee farm upstate, so to speak.

But this newly revamped Honeycomb boasts a “bigger flavor,” in a charming homage to those days when the cereal hung its hat on its humongous honey-ness. This change comes in the midst of a wider cereal flavor revolution, as Cocoa Puffs and Krave have added “50% more cocoa” and “more chocolate,” respectively. But while those two put an easy-to-measure qualifier on their taste changes, Honeycomb’s flavor is now simply “bigger,” which could either mean they added more honey or hired fatter bees.

Either way, I’m  going to try them while I wait for my Giant sideburns to grow in.  Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Lucky Charms Oatmeal (Canada)

Lucky Charms Oatmeal Box

This may not be canon, but I believe General Mills’ new Canada-only Lucky Charms Oatmeal is from an alternate timeline in the cereal universe.

In this truly darkest timeline, those cartoon kids who cheerfully steal Lucky the Leprechaun’s sugary breakfast aren’t motivated by hunger or anything rational. No, these serial cereal sociopaths take Lucky’s marshmallowy horseshoes and shooting stars just so they can melt them before his eyes in a bowl of bubbling, magmatic oats.

In this somber universe, Lucky Charms are “masochistically delicious!”

Somehow, those bullies’ mealy instruments of destruction crossed through an inter-dimensional portal and landed on Canadian grocery shelves. It’s the only logical explanation for the grotesque scenes of marshmallowy immolation you’re about to witness. Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Quaker Banana & Maple Oatmeal

Quaker Banana & Maple Oatmeal Box

Ever had a Canadian Elvis?

It’s a traditional and totally not-made-up sandwich native to North North America that remixes Mr. Presley’s favorite peanut butter and banana sandwich by swapping George Washington Carver’s creamy (or chunky, choosy moms don’t discriminate) legume spread with the sticky sweet life blood of Canada’s flag-starring national tree.

Quaker must be a fan of the Canadian Elvis, because it’s the only logic I can see behind their new(ish) Banana & Maple Oatmeal flavor. Outside of banana pancakes (which are usually paired with compote instead of syrup anyway) and a certain tragic incident in my childhood involving a rogue monkey with a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth, I’ve never heard of banana and maple going together.

Chocolate and bananas? Delicious.
Ice cream and bananas? You couldn’t split us apart.
Peanut butter and bananas? I hunka hunka burnin’ love it.

But maple syrup and bananas is largely unexplored territory—a final frontier worthy of a new Star Trek series. Maple is one of my favorite all-time flavors—I want my funeral procession to end at an IHOP—so Quaker’s got a lot to prove by pairing it with a fruit that barely makes my top 10.

(Though “Maple & Strawberry” probably wouldn’t sound any more palatable) Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Bear Naked Chocolate Almond Clusters Cereal

Bear Naked Chocolate Almond Clusters Cereal Box

According to the box, Bear Naked Cereal’s new Chocolate Almond Clusters are “APPROVED BY BEARS.”

Personally, I’d like to see the National Bear Advisory Board’s citations on this, because like many mammals, bears can’t eat chocolate! The stuff contains theobromine, a chemical that’s toxic to our furry friends. So why, then, would the entire bear population sign off—in all capital letters, no less—on a cereal that contains enough cocoa to have them growling “oh no” as they cartoonishly grip their stomachs like Yogi Bear after stealing a picnic basket full of potato salad that’s been in the sun too long?

Are they trying to fatten us up with a calorie-dense breakfast so we taste better later? Are the bears just bad at reading contractual fine print? Or is this all just a pointlessly long-winded introduction I wrote to hide the fact that I spent $4 on this cereal?

The answer to all three is yes. Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+

Review: Despicable Me Cereal with Minion Marshmallows

Kellogg's Despicable Me Cereal with Minion Marshmallows Box Review

With my right hand raised, I, Dan G. of Cerealously, vow to complete this review of Kellogg’s new Despicable Me Cereal without voicing any of my personal opinions about Minions, the Minion phenomenon, or the fact that Minions somehow still overpopulate my Facebook feed with sassy memes in the year 2017.

There, now that the hard part’s over, I can evaluate this cereal objectively. At first glance—once you get past those moon-sized, staring eyes—Despicable Me Cereal appears to be the latest square-shaped, marshmallow-stuffed entry in Kellogg’s cinematic cereal franchise, an anthology that includes Finding Dory Cereal, Captain America Civil War Cereal, and several others with identical flavors but laughably different source materials.

But look, look closer with your special, telescopic Minion eyes, and you’ll see that Despicable Me Cereal is actually Brown Sugar Vanilla-flavored! I feel like we need to celebrate this trend-bucking mix-up of Kellogg’s repetitive movie cereal formula.

Anyone down for a Return of the Jedi-style party with Ewoks, bonfires, and the grinning blue ghosts of several force-sensitive mentors? Continue reading

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on TumblrShare on RedditShare on Google+