break·fes·sion
/ˈbrekˈfeSHən/

noun

Noun: breakfession; plural noun: breakfessions
a formal admission of guilt for violating cereal orthodoxy

“He signed a breakfession to mixing orange juice with Cocoa Puffs. He shall be milkboarded until sunrise as penance.”

Deep breath, Jared. You can do this.

Fellow cereal heads, I have to own up to something. This goes against every sacred principle our people hold. I won’t blame you for pelting me with marbits and extruded grains of various magical configurations. But I can’t go on hiding in the pantry like this. (Literally, because it’s very small and there are, like, fifteen boxes of cereal in there. Plus potential spiders.)

Friends. I don’t like Lucky Charms.

I know. I get it! Just hear me out. The substance of Lucky’s original treasure is about as bland as it gets. Even Corn Flakes at least taste like their eponymous source material, so you can throw a mushy hoedown while contemplating the familial history of Cornelius the Rooster and the NBC peacock. What, you’ve never noticed the obvious resemblance? Something tells me Miss Prissy wasn’t the only fryer in Foghorn’s coop.

The cardboard bits turn to mush and distract from the marshmallows which, while fun, have no taste other than straight fructose. There’s no complexity going on here. Sorry, Lucky, but your two-note song just doesn’t groove me.

So when Dan drew my Trader Joe’s-loving attention to Crispy Quinoa Stars, I was less-than-enthused. The box image immediately trips my ingrained Charms avoidance. These crispy crucibles of the known periodic table look just like the dry kibble that makes LCs such a chore to eat. But, hey, a cereal journalist has obligations, and the people need to know. So let’s fly through the cerealsphere to TJ’s in my (used, beat-up, Honda) rocket ship! Continue reading →