Just when I think I’m out…they pull me back in…like when a bad vaudeville actor gets pulled off stage with a cane…but in this case it’s like…a candy…cane…

Sorry, since I’ve been on a posting hiatus, I’ve forgotten how to smoothly start these things. Much-needed time off aside, I couldn’t just not break my break in order to review the cereal I’ve begged for the most over the course of this blog’s 8+ year existence. Seriously.

Simply put, I’ve been a gingerbread-loving lad since the day I first bit a man’s arm off (he was trying to steal my gingerbread cookies). That warm, molasses-soaked medley of spices…the fun of decorating and building elaborate edible architecture…the mythos of an uncatchable cookie cryptid…I just love it all to the point where you might as well call me The Gingerbread Dan.

And since I love cereal, too—especially the cookie-adjacent snickerdoodliciousness of the Toast Crunch family—combining gingerbread with Cinnamon Toast Crunch has always seemed like a no brainer. So while I’m surprised it took General Mills this long to pick the low-hanging gumdrop button, I’m just glad a box of Gingerbread Toast Crunch is finally nestled in my loving arms—just in time for Halloween to shamble back into its sarcophagus and the Thanks-mas-Year’s-Eve juggernaut to protect me from old man winter’s seasonally depressive ilk with festive cheer.

You are my talisman of power, Gingerbread Toast Crunch: now let’s find out if your taste is worth the wait.

The answer? Sorta!

Look, I knew going in that there was no way Gingerbread Toast Crunch would wholly and holy-moly-ly live up to the dreams & hopes for it that’ve been percolating in my brain for decades—but still, it really seems like General Mills muzzled themselves a little on this, and I can’t really understand why. As one of the sugariest, most-flavor-blasted cereals out there, Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Co. aren’t exactly known for their modesty.

And yet, Gingerbread Toast Crunch somehow isn’t gingerbreaded enough. In fact, in a blind taste test, I’d probably be more likely to call this “Holiday Spice Toast Crunch” than anything distinctly ginger or molasses flavored. It mostly just tastes like normal Cinnamon Toast Crunch that had its coziness factor boosted by 25%: there’s definitely more delightful brown sugariness here than usual, and as you eat more and more of these auburn squares, a generic nip of spiciness does start to build up in the aftertaste, but still—it’s subtle, vague, and doesn’t come out swinging.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still very tasty, simply because Cinnamon Toast Crunch is already tasty, and this feels like slightly better Cinnamon Toast Crunch. But speaking of slightly better Cinnamon Toast Crunch, this raises another obstacle—one that’s been tickling my brain with every new Toast Crunch in the past year. See, since General Mills released CinnaGraham Toast Crunch, a bona fide titan of the genre, I’ve just never quite been satisfied with normal wheat & rice Cinnamon Toast Crunch anymore. The sheer perfect of CinnaGraham has poisoned my brain, inevitably making me wish that all Toast Crunch cereals were made with graham flour instead. Gingebread Toast Crunch most certainly included.

I get it, I get it, this is a petty complaint, but since every person I’ve ever talked to about CinnaGraham Toast Crunch has vastly preferred it over the original, it’s just a little sad knowing that General Mills could permanently level up one of their best-selling cereals…but they won’t. And even though I know it wouldn’t make sense from a marketing perspective, it’s enough to make me wish CinnaGraham Toast Crunch had just been released as Cinnamon Golden Grahams instead. Golden Grahams never gets any spinoffs anyway, and such a solution would remove the psychological barrier that’s keeping me from an elevated enjoyment of this Gingerbread Toast Crunch.

But I digress (as I digest). The point is that milk doesn’t do Gingerbread Toast Crunch any favors, as it dilutes the already mild spiciness. Sure, the endmilk is pretty good, but its goodness comes at the expense of the entire cereal eating experience before it, so I’m hesitant to recommend a “wet” cereal experience here over a few cozy dry handfuls while watching the snow fall (which it already is here in the Midwest [*shudder*]).

Simply put, Gingerbread Toast Crunch is good, but it falls short of true greatness. You absolutely should still try it, especially since your other options for a festive Christmas cereal are Cap’n Crunch’s Christmas Crunch (good, but not seasonally flavored) and, sigh, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Cereal (an abomination). Just temper your lifelong expectations a little and give in to the so-so ho-ho-ho of it all.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a convenient household solution for splicing in graham flour at a molecular level. Wish me luck!

The Bowl: Gingerbread Toast Crunch

The Breakdown: Cozy, tasty, and wintery but lacking authentic articulation of its namesake cookie’s signature nuances, Gingerbread Toast Crunch needs to crank its non-specific spice and molassish up to 11. Or maybe 12, ’cause, y’know, December…aight, I’m just gonna head out.

The Bottom Line: 7.5 gingerbread shanties out of 10