Tag Archives: 8 rating

Review: Hostess Twinkies Cereal

New Hostess Twinkies Cereal Review Box

There is a new cereal dichotomy blooming before our very tongues. If it comes to civil war, whose side will you be on?

The monolithic masses of the Kellogg’s Krusaders, their defenses made impenetrable and especially unpalatable by pounds of cushiony, bland corn ‘n’ sugar rings?

Or the silent-but-growing cabal of crunchily dusted Powdered Paladins, whose cereals are equally sweet, but, you know, actually good? 

Yeah, the choice is pretty obvious: with the Economically Chintzy Empire, we get Baby Sharks and celebratory man-birds. Neither is fit for battle—unless Kellogg’s brings in a Caticorn that’s actually equine in stature—against the trustiest, dustiest and most delectable division led by Powdered Donettes Cereal, with Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch and Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios as its right- and left-hand confidants. Honestly: if you did a cross-comparison between Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch and Kellogg’s Elf on the Shelf Sugar Cookie Cereal, you’d find a certain starry sugar-corn Rehash in the Trash, where it so boldly and brashly deserves to be.

I also know that overly flavor-powdered cereals can be divisive, as revealed by the internet’s violently split opinion on Frosted G.O.A.T.nettes—err, I mean Donettes, of course. So will this camp be pleased or feel sucker-punched by Twinkies Cereal, the latest dusted cake-crop in Hostess’ Cereal line? The answer is only a bowlful of crème larvae away: Continue reading

Review: Millville Peanut Butter and Jelly Puffs Cereal

Millville Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs Cereal Review Box

You know who I blame for this? Harry Burnett Reese.

If ol’ H.B., or “Poppy Reese,” as Wikipedia likes to allege he was called, hadn’t been tinkering in his basement with homebrewed confections whilst moonlighting at the Hershey factory, he wouldn’t’ve seized the opportunity to make a revolutionary peanut butter cup.

Maybe he would’ve been more of a candy-making hobbyist later in life. Maybe his big idea would be the Reese’s Jelly-Wrapped Peanut Butter Cup. And maybe that idea fails in spectacular and gelatinous fashion. But somehow, maybe the idea prompts cereal makers to give that flavor combo a go in a more easily preserved viscosity.

In that particular timeline, we have no shortage of options when it comes to PB&J Cereals. There’s even PB&J milk, and PB&J vodka! It’s a happy world, presumably far happier than this one, wherein Millville has manufactured the first reputable (doesn’t count!) PB&J Cereal in four yearsbreaking a drought that started with the sort-of-but-really-nonexistence of PB & J Cereal in the ’80s.

It’s called Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs. It’s certainly the most transparent about its devotion to the flavor, boasting a pair of chuckle-heads who look straight out of a strangely spliced Peanut Butter x Strawberry Laffy Taffy.

Which, incidentally, they have in the other world. Continue reading

Review: Strawberry Crunch Krave

Kellogg's Strawberry Crunch Krave Review Box

If you’re reading this, my mission was a success: I’ve hacked the Kelloggian satellite array and beamed my desperate plea directly into the heads of the cereal company’s board of directors. Now that I have the c-suite’s attention, I only have one request:

Please, please make a Peanut Butter Crunch Krave.

It’s true: while eating this new Strawberry Crunch Krave, I couldn’t help but think, yearn, and mentally mewl for a crunchy companion worth combining into my favorite (also crunchy…or creamy) elementary school sandwich. This urge was so strong that I even wished Cinnamon Crunch Krave, which I already enjoyed, could be sacrificed to whatever shadowy cabal of choco-vores hold the cosmic power to make my dream a reality.

While it may sound like I’m deflecting, this is the best compliment I can give Strawberry Crunch Krave. Because it’s good. So good, in fact, that I could eat it pureed and spread onto toast. Allow me to elaborate—oh, and if the Kellogg’s execs are still reading this, PayPal-ing me a dowry for my courageous Kravery wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

How’s about a few bucks and an ivory steed?

Continue reading

Review: Mermaid Cereals (General Mills and Kellogg’s Froot Loops!)

Two Mermaid Cereal Boxes

Finally, after decades of alpha-male tigers, geriatric cinnamon-toast bakers and the fiery testosterone of the sky’s giant Raisin Bran-loving plasma ball, we’re getting a cereal mascot who’s a strong female role mod—aw wait…she’s only half human, isn’t she? Do we really want the world’s daughters looking up to someone who craps in the ocean?

Sorry fishladies, didn’t mean to slander you. I’m sure there are plenty of sophisticated mermaidens out there who use seafoam bidets, and you’re all way classier than those treacherous sirens. All I wanted to do was hear them cover Chocolate Rain, but I did not stay dry and I certainly felt the pain.

Oceanic etiquette aside, I find the food world’s mermaid trend intriguing. It seems these Ms. Thological creatures have eclipsed unicorns as young kids’ cryptids of fixation, as mermaids are apparently popular enough to warrant two cereals, from two different companies, released at roughly the same time in two different hemispheres. While General Mills was kind enough to hook me up with several (several) boxes worth of their new Mermaid Cereal, the Aussies of the Yeah, G’Day! podcast were kind enough to send me Kellogg’s Mermaid Froot Loops from the land down-underwater.

So which continent will emerge as king queen of breakfast’s aquamarina? Let’s dive in. Continue reading

Review: Malt-O-Meal & Cold Stone Creamery’s Cookie Doughn’t You Want Some?

Malt-O-Meal & Cold Stone Creamery Cookie Doughn't You Want Some Cereal Review Bag

Look, I’m all for cool (especially the literally cool) cereal collaborations, but I’m sensing an ulterior motive with this one.

Malt-O-Meal & Cold Stone Creamery’s Cookie Doughn’t You Want Some? is the latest in their ice cream cereal series, after Birthday Cake Remix and Our Strawberry Blonde. And it has to be a secret social experiment by Post (M-O-M’s parent company) to see just how long they can make a cereal’s full, legal name  before they drive snacky journalists wacky.

Well to that I say, nice try, but I’ll just turn it into an ugly acronym that actually takes more exertion to craft than typing it out.

So I know I really buried the lead here, but M-O-M&CSCCDYWS? is making a bold statement by claiming it contains cereal pieces actually flavored like cookie dough (while pairing them with marshmallows, but I doubt anyone in today’s marbit-fatigued zeitgeist really cares about that). There’s been little creativity in the chocolate chip cookie cereal scene as of late, ever since Keebler Cereal and its tragically puff-smothered cookie bits keeled over. That’s why there’s a lot riding on Cookie Doughn’t You Want Some? to be more than just another Cookie Crisp chaser.

Now that I’ve told my spellcheck’s autocapitalization settings to not even bother, I can answer the in-sentence question Cookie Doughn’t You Want Some? exists to ask:

Continue reading

Review: Cap’n Crunch’s Cotton Candy Crunch

Cap'n Crunch's Cotton Candy Crunch Review Box

For most of my life, I thought the best thing about cotton candy was its mascot: that nameless pink monster who not only looks like the lovechild of Mr. Bubble and a loofah, but who also deserves a place at the Halloween breakfast table right next to Chocula and his ilk.

But now that I’ve grown into a bubbly loafer of an adult, I’m just as enthralled with cotton candy’s many monikers around the world. It was first called ‘dragon’s breath’ in China’s Han dynasty around 200 CE, ‘candy floss’ in many European countries today, ‘sugar spin’ in Norway…’grandma’s hair’ in Greece…and…uhh…’dad’s beard’ in France.

And here I thought eating cotton sounded unappealing. “Better fluff than follicles,” as my clean-shaven dad always said.

Thanks to Quaker and Cap’n Crunch, we now have a new way to talk about cotton candy: with our mouths full. By turning the melt-in-your-mouth ephemera of cotton candy into something crunchy and tongue-stable, the Cap’n is expanding his line of wacky one-offs with Cotton Candy Crunch.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a nearby circus or country fair to review (and deep fry) this stuff at, but luckily, I’m enough of a clown that I feel qualified to taste test it from the comfort of my big honkin’ bed. Continue reading

Review: The Crunch Cup

The Crunch Cup Review

Cereal, in all its meditative morning zen oneness, feels like a static concept. When eaten in the morning, just past noon, or at midnight, it centers, grounds, and rebalances our day to an even keel.

For this reason—and the whole milk thing—eating cereal on the go typically requires either a crumb-ersome cereal bar or two separate thermoses for Cap’n Crunch and 2%. The problematic conundrum of mobile cereal munching is so pandemic, it’s even been pop-culturally immortalized on TV.

But the folks behind the successfully crowdfunded Crunch Cup, which raised over $100,000 from online backers, want to change that. Using a cleverly designed two-chamber system, this mobile cereal solution bills is striving for a sweeter, more convenient breakfastian world. They were also kind enough to send me a Crunch Cup for this review, so while I’ll probably still instinctively avoid eating cereal on the go (ever since that time I spilled a whole milky cup of Cocoa Puffs on my pants in high school and yelped so loud I derailed the calculus lesson), I’m here to playtest it for the good of your soon-to-be-creamier morning commute.

Because hey: if you’ve got a family-sized box of cereal in your passenger seat, you’re totally allowed to use the carpool lane.

Continue reading

Review (x2): Confetti Cupcake & Chocolate Cupcake Pop-Tarts

Kellogg's Chocolate Cupcake Pop-Tarts Review Box

Look, I have a whipped cream firehose right here, and the safety’s off.
So I’m gonna ask you one more time: where’s Captain Cupcake?

It’s really the only explanation: the squiggle-stached mascot behind Hostess Cupcakes, known for his hulking naval circumference and nautical nonsense, hasn’t been seen in action for years. Many theorized that he, along with the other obscure sideshow snack cakes, were disappeared out of existence by the powerful Fruit Pie the Magician, whose grand illusion managed to rewrite our dark timeline and save Hostess from bankruptcy.

But with the release of these new conveniently frosted Chocolate Cupcake Pop-Tarts, the truth is clear. Captain Cupcake, bitter about his fudgy offspring not getting their own Hostess Cereal (this was C. Cupcake’s one chance to return fire against Cap’n Crunch!), defected and sold trade secrets to Kellogg’s. Now we can only assume that he’s hiding out in the molded wreckage of an abandoned Hostess Bakery Thrift Outlet.

If he happens to reappear under a new diet alias—with a slimmer shape due to months spent lifting stale Wonderbread pallets—I hope the feds book this “Admiral Aspartame” instantly.  Continue reading