I don’t remember learning about Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven in Sunday school. Is that where young folks who like to eat breakfast like senior citizens go when they die? If so, the whatever higher power is up there can hurry up and smite me, because there’s nothing I secretly love more than eating bowls full of fibrous cereal and grapes that got the shrunken head treatment.

Hey, something’s gotta balance out all the Cinnamon Toast Crunch I eat, um, for science.

Yes, Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven was my natural first choice when presented with Quaker’s four new Overnight Oat flavors. The little cups of oats, which you’re supposed to pour milk on and refrigerate for 6+ hours before eating (my condolences to the world’s insomniacs), also come in Toasted Coconut & Almond Crunch, Blueberry Banana & Vanilla Bliss, and Orchard Peach Pecan Perfection.

Why each flavor sounds so euphoric and zen, I don’t know, but I do know I’ll now forever picture the Quaker Oat guy’s face on the Buddha’s plumply smiling body.

Don’t tell the cops or the Quaker 5-0ats, but I didn’t actually leave my oat cup overnight—scandalous, I know. Instead I let it percolate while I was at work, so I could come home to an easy, chilled, and nearly fancy treat, instead of the usual bachelor’s diet of leftover hot dogs and variably chunked chicken noodle soups.

So after about 10 hours spent chilling in a pasteurized pasture, did my Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven Overnight Oats look appetizing? Hmm, let me think of the right emoji: 🙅😷. But did it taste any better? 👍😁🐮🎆!

My overnight oats may look like a purée of cottage cheese and baby beets, but they taste like a hybrid concoction of sugar cookie dough and a summer salad.

That may sound weird, if not outright Lovecraftian, but I mean it in the most complimentary way possible. The milk steeping process may have mushed all the ingredients’ flavor notes into one, making it hard to taste a tangible notes of raisin, walnut, honey, or even oats, the final concoction is an oddly compelling mix of sweet and savory.

The compelling golden honey sweetness seeps into every grainy pore and pruned crevasse, and it combines with the milk and doughy oats to make a buttery batter with hints of tangy buttermilk and a toasty finish. Meanwhile, spoonfuls that are heavy in the raisin or walnut remind me of the creamy, tangy, and poppyseed dressing-soaked salads my mom always makes, with their pops of nutty sunflower seeds and juicy dried fruit. The added anise of quinoa and flaxseed, which the packaging only tells you about in fine print, only further emphasize this.

I never thought cookies and salad would make such a divine pairing, but ladies and gentlemen, this must be what pure distilled essence of heaven tastes like—pumped straight from the pearly cumulonimbuses themselves.

Okay, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven Overnight Oats won’t inspire any new theological doctrines (imagine: a religion, based on Quaker! Yeah right!*). It could stand to be a little sweeter, and there’s an odd, starchy aftertaste that reminds me of ripened cheese, drywall, and for some reason: the starchy white powder that comes in cups of Easy Mac.

I always thought it was bits of Cheesasaurus Rex’s drywall.

This wasn’t enough to spoil my Overnight Oats experience, though—this stuff was unlike anything I’ve tasted from the brand before (though not Quaker’s most most creative product), and I imagine if I had upped the fat percentage on the milk I used, it would have been even more decadent. The sugared salad mix-up may be off-putting for some, but I recommend all who are patient enough to try at least one Overnight Oats flavor. I know I’ll be picking up a second one for review.

Maybe it’ll encourage me to get more sleep.

The Bowl: Quaker’s Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven Overnight Oats

The Breakdown: A bizarre, yet bizarrely delicious marriage of holiday bake goods and cultured ranch dressings, Quaker’s Raisin Walnut & Honey Heaven Overnight Oats lose the intricacies of each namesake taste (and add a weird after-one), but the complete package is mMMMmore than the sum of its parts.

The Bottom Line: 8.5 enraged Android users who won’t get my emoji jokes out of 10

*Said with 200% of your daily recommended amount of sarcasm

(Quick Nutrition Facts – Unprepared – 300 calories, 5 grams of fiber, 16 grams of sugar, and 7 grams of protein per cup)