Yearly Archives: 2020

Review: Shopkins Cutie O’s Cereal

Kellogg's New Shopkins Cutie O's Cereal Review - Box

♪ ♪ “Buy all our play sets and tooooyyys!” ♫ 

For those without this very specific genetic disposition to oddly specific early Internet web cartoon references, Cheat Commandos…O’s are a cheap cash-in on an already merchandized-by-design franchise. And to this day, I can’t figure out which cereal they used to model it—perhaps it’s actually dried macaroni and cheese, or perhaps the petrified remains of a shredded Bronco Trolley.

Much like Cheat Commandos, Shopkins is a line of toys, apparel, and by this point (probably) orthodox faiths. In short: it consists largely of blind bag toys shaped like sentient grocery items. In long: yo dog we heard you like shopping so we put consumer goods in your consumer good so you can spend food money on fake food that implicitly costs fake money, too.

Granted, I’m not judging the ouroboric commercialism that Shopkins embodies—heck, I think the adjacently themed ’80s Food Fighters are some of the best-looking action figures in history. Though it is a shame they never made a grizzled bowl of cereal armed with a tactical bootspork.

Shopkins is just something I’m far too old for, admittedly, but I’m nevertheless hesitant any time a beloved brand of non-cereal ends up emblazoned on the front of a dubiously flavored hot pink rectangular prism. Licensed cereals are usually hit or miss or impermissibly lame. Even those remembered fondly, like Pokémon Cereal, are almost always retrospectively delicious because they’re acceptably executed bootleg Lucky Charms—with prettier marbits than the heretical excuses for freeze-dried sugar they put in such licensed cereals nowadays.

At least Shopkins’ new Cutie O’s Cereal has a relatively original flavor. Outside of one juicy box of Raisin Bran, apple and strawberry make for a rare pairing—though we are starting off on the wrong plastic footlong, as my lifelong penchant for strawberry kiwi has me Pavlovianly drooling venomous vitriol at the sight of a green-fruited competitor to my mental “Best Capri-Sun” throne. But alright, Kawaii Granny Smith: I’ll sheathe my ceremonial paring knife while you state your case. Continue reading

Review: Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites

New Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites Review Box

Anybody else got weird, yet oh-so-satisfying ways to eat food? And I don’t mean any particular combination of foods—though I will proudly die on the Pringles with Ketchup Hill, as it’s where my family plot will be.

No, I’m talking unconventional approaches to the physical act of eating something. Sure, there are classics, like unscrewing and licking an Oreo clean or consuming Snickers with a fork & knife. And there are more disturbing ones, like those who eat kiwis with the fuzzy flesh on, or the worryingly confident breed of Fun Dip consumer who eats the sticks totally unadorned.

Personally, I like to eat completely around the cookie part of a Twix to save it for last, consume a handful of popcorn like an apple, and more-than-occasionally swallow pasta noodles whole for the unique tracheal imprint left by each respective shape. Oh, and I used to unknowingly eat Reese’s Cups with the paper still on until an embarrassingly mature age.

Pop-Tarts are far from immune from this sort of nuanced noshing. While my formerly frowned-upon habit of freezing toaster pastries has now been largely normalized (you’re welcome), I still know many who will nibble around the crust before handling the sweet meat of the matter. This may be less barbaric (albeit less creative) than eating the insides before the crust, but either way these folks are depriving themselves of the blessed balance struck at the baked-in slip fault between frosting and crisped crust.

No, now that I’ve eaten Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites, I believe there is a better way: one that may be difficult to scale up to a regular Pop-Tart, but which ought to nevertheless cleave your breakfast time traditions in twain. Continue reading

News: St. Patrick’s Day Lucky Charms Return for 2020

2020 St. Patrick's Day Lucky Charms Cereal Boxes

While I’m slightly disappointed in General Mills for retreading the same emerald-dyed waters for the upteenth time in Lucky Charms’ history, the cereal maker’s latest trip ’round the rainbow poses a curious question surrounding the deeper lore of the Charmiverse:

Is Lucky’s fear of children stealing his Charms just a false flag so no one goes after his moolah?

Sure, the in-world Charms are perhaps more valuable than loot or minted Loops—as they possess the same reality-warping power as Chaos Emeralds—but when it comes to cold hard cash? Lucky’s gotta be loaded if he was able to travel the cosmos and harvest each arcane artifact for his own kid-averse shenanigans.

So even though the brand-proclaimed star of 2020’s St. Paddy’s Day Lucky Charms is the “new” gold coin marshmallow (which in reality isn’t new), the buried lede in my opinion is this claim: “To celebrate Lucky the Leprechaun’s birthday (St. Patrick’s Day, of course!), fans have the chance to find Lucky’s Gold on select boxes of cereal!”

Hold up now, full stop. If we’re to believe that Lucky was born on St. Patrick’s Day, why isn’t it mentioned in this commercial? In fact, why would Lucky even think there’s reason to forget his birthday? I don’t mean to be the wolf who cried plot hole, but c’mon. Talk about crocodile tears.

Oh, right. The gold thing. Despite this implication of a chance at big prizes inside every box, I can’t garner any of the details from this box art alone. Coupled with General Mills’ promise that Leprechaun Traps will return to the back of the boxes, I remain uncertain of whether there are actually riches worth seeking—let alone the rich microwavable birthday cake seen in the above spot.

Whatever the mythos of this mythical fellow, Lucky’s St. Patrick’s Day Charms will be hitting shelves soon (two months early, of course) in both regular and chocolate varieties. Should you be fortunate enough to find a doubloon or just some Yukon Golds in your box, I simply ask that you mail me a Chaos Emerald as a token of gratitude. Dragon Balls will work too.

Review: Trolls World Tour Trix with Marshmallows

New Trolls World Tour Trix with Marshmallows Review Box

Is it just me, or does “marbit” sound an awful lot like “varmint?”

I’m not saying I don’t like what is perhaps cereal’s single most iconic component, but the mythical munchability of freeze-dried marshmallows, at least to me, has been their scarcity. The Biblical parable of the child who carefully picked all the marshmallows out of his Lucky Charms, only for his father to make him eat the soggy oats alongside the family donkey still rings true: “he who hems and haws makes himself an ass.”

Uh, I think that’s the…unreleased fifth letter to the Corinthians. You wouldn’t know it: Paul wrote it at a different school.

So much did I enjoy the rare treat of breakfast marshmallows as a child that I feel spoiled now—or at least my appetite is. Every cereal from Apple Jacks to Frosted Flakes is chucking marshmallows into classic cereals with no respect for tradition, boundaries, or mouthfeel. And now they’ve gotten to Trix, too. A cereal that has never been paired with marshmallows before this year of Twenty-Silly-Bunny.

It’d be a low-hanging comedic fruit to say it feels like the cereal industry is Trolling us with all these clumsily composed marshmallow cereals, but I will say that, thanks to the Trolls 2: World Tour branding on these Trix, I’m marginally more optimistic about the concept. Because while I deeply, even spiritually prefer the Trix fruit shapes to spheres, I will admit that swirled spheres are aesthetically pleasing enough to thread onto a friendship bracelet.

If I made two, how fast do you think UPS could get one to the Corinthians? Or at least, The Corinthian? I’ve had eyes for him for a while. Continue reading

The Empty Bowl Episode Twenty-Four: Lip Gloss & Jungle Juice

Did the first week of 2020 feel a little…empty to anyone else? There’s just so much stress happening globally that it’s easy to feel hollowed-out by daily responsibility.

But worry no more, for beyond any newspaper or starving Neopet, there exists an ethereal plane where there’s nothing to be upset about—and there’s everything your breakfast-loving self could hope for. Well, unless you like traditional English breakfasts or avocado toast, you may be disappointed. For there’s only one thing on our bed & breakfast’s menu.

Welcome to The Empty Bowl Episode Twenty-Four, the first post-holiday-hiatus episode of my and Justin‘s meditative cereal podcast. To make up for lost time, this is our longest episode yet, as we barrel through many new cereals coming in early 2020, and just as many late-2019 releases that made me the sugar-addled dancing plum of my own Christmas.

Not quite full yet? You can go back for seconds, thirds, or twenty-thirds at our Anchor hub, follow along on Twitter, or send in a listener question. We can’t discuss or respond to every email, but for each one, I’ll make a contribution to Neopets in need.

Review: Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats

New Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats Review - Cereal Box

In 2020 we’re staying honest with those we love, so I’m gonna come right out and say it:

Honey Bunches of Oats, how in your infinite wisdom have you made the most tearable cereal bags in the breakfast aisle?

There are already enough things in this world that I have trouble pulling apart without blunder nor bother: perforated notebook paper, most pieces of mail, command strips off a wall. My delicious cereal shouldn’t fissure and fizzle out cereal spillage at a moment’s notice.

This is difficult to cope with, especially since Honey Bunches of Oats is a) built on a near spiritual trinity of corn flakes, frosted corn flakes and granola bunches, but this triple blessing is also b) very consistent at producing flavorful varietals.

(We don’t talk about the less savory ‘Zilla ’98s of the franchise.)

Yet HBoO’s latest release—whose bag was torn asunder by inescapable fate—seems, to me, to be its ostensibly least original idea in recent memory (with one notably irrelevant example). Simply culling one third of the cereal, coating it with sticky sauce, and shoving it back in the mix? As someone who values a good novelty cereal, from the start I’m skeptical. Will this be the equivalent of a bubbly Disney remake that’s so saccharine it crashes lifelessly?

At least give us some crudely handsome CGI bunches at that point! Continue reading

News: Peeps Cereal is Getting Bunny & Chick Marshmallows!

Peeps Cereal with bunny & Chick Marshmallows (2020)

It only took a year, but one of 2019’s biggest missed opportunities is being repaired.

In my review of last Easter’s Peeps Cereal (which I still unseasonably blogged about in January), I noted—as any potential Peeper would—that a brand known for its cute animal shapes probably deserves better than lazy round & white marbits. Thankfully, those sugary eggs are hatching in 2020, as we can see in the above box art uncovered by Candy Hunting. I’d like to think it’s my complaints that got Kellogg’s to introduce these “Bunny & Chick Marshmallows,” but considering how I was equally scathing in my critique of this cereal’s taste, I doubt Kellogg’s would ever credit me.

After all, the frankly boring base cereal itself looks unchanged. I’ll admit that the bunnies are some of the better fashioned cereal marshmallows in recent memory—the chicks seem like they could be runny yolks—but unless those rascally rabbits breed while the cereal’s in your pantry, I might have to pass on buying a box again this spring.

But congratulations, Kellogg’s: you finally made an authentic Peeps Cereal. Now you just need to find an audience for the sugary stuff’s one-note opus.