To paraphrase Heath Ledger’s Joker: “Release a new cereal, and no one panics. Tweak the recipe of an old cereal, and everyone loses their minds!”

Yes, these past couple years have seen a mass vocalization of irritated cereal fans, many of which seem to think teh very fabric of their remembered childhood is under attack by greedy, scheming cereal companies who are corrupting their favorite breakfasts and effectively erasing their personal history in the process.

While some cereal formula changes may be done to save cash, some, like Honeycomb and Trix, have merely been misguided attempts to make cereals all natural—which companies think consumers want. And though diehard fans shut down those last two changes with cries of “the naturalness of my cereal is none of your beeswax!” and “silly General Mills, Trix are for artificial colors more technicolored than Joseph’s dreamcoat!” other cereals, like Alpha-Bits and now Honey Oh’s remain metamorphosed into something new altogether.

This is all to say that cereal companies should probably keep their Tony-sized paws off the classics, and consumers should probably be more clear about what the heck they want out of their morning meals. But while that debate will doubtlessly roll on until my comments section is quarantined by the CDC, I finally found these newly formulated Honey Oh’s for review.

Formerly known as “Honey Graham Oh’s” or “Honey Graham Oh My Goodness They’re So Good But Leave My Mouth Torn To Shred’s,” these new rings dared to remove graham from one my own favorite cereals. I’ll remain un-opinionated until I try them, but there is one thing I’ll say for sure: Post better have shipped their leftover graham flour to the Teddy Grahams factory.

First impression? These Honey Oh’s are way thinner than their predecessors. While original Honey Graham Oh’s were chunky enough to use as gaudy jewelry for a Henry VII costume contest, Honey Oh’s look more like Oreo O’s (which gives me hope that we’ll see a Golden Oreo O’s spin-off some day). Ultimately, I’m ambivalent about the size change.

After all, it makes sense: since graham is known for its, uh, urge-repressing abilities, these detoxed Oh’s are eager to slim down and woo a potential significant Oh-ther. I love food court-ing rituals.

Honey Oh’s’ flavor tells a similar story: it’s definitely different without graham, but it’s still pretty darn good. With a smoother texture that won’t harshly terraform your trachea, Honey Oh’s also smack richly of a syrupy sweet, yet golden and mouthwateringly oily honey glaze. What makes this honey unique from, say, the roasted honey of Honey Bunches of Oats or the nuttiness of Honey Nut Cheerios is a darkly decadent dash of molasses. This gives each Oh an “oh yeah” inducing baked doughiness, like what you might find on a caramelized honey cruller.

This is all well and good, but it’s not all deep fried delight. Without graham flour, Honey Oh’s lack a compellingly earthen base flavor for the pleasant honey to build off of. Without this largely neutral flour springboard, it’s like eating pizza toppings without a crust—just sauce, cheese, ham, onions, and pineapple (yes, I went there) globbed up a plate like Little Caesar after the Ides of March.

Worse yet, the iconic, crunchy middle-ins—which filled the center of Honey Graham Oh’s tighter than people who understand “auras” in a kombucha shop—are much harder to find inside new Honey Oh’s. These rare stuffed crispies no longer impart the ambiguously flavored crackle they once did, leaving Honey Oh’s as a gimmick-less, but still pleasantly palatable, member of the ever-widening honey ring cereal family.

Milk doesn’t make much of a difference. Sure, Honey Oh’s leave behind a goldenly delicious endmilk that reminds me of my dearly departed favorite honey almond milk, but it’s still the same baseless cereal whose mixed core of corn, oat, and rice lacks an identity.

A perplexing mix of good and mediocre that I nevertheless can’t stop shoveling into my mouth like a human crane game, Honey Oh’s are still very good after their graham-sformation, but I can’t see them becoming the cult cereal they once were. Where other classic morning munchies go out with a bang, Honey Oh’s refuse to retire, instead trading their breakfast aisle rockstar status for a quaint, quiet job at the local library.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check out some I Spy and Garfield books…again.

The Bowl: Honey Oh’s Cereal

The Breakdown: In great need of a holistic, rather than hollow flavor, Honey Oh’s nevertheless has delightfully molasses-driven honey vibes that put it slightly above “oh-kay.”

The Bottom Line: 7 necromancers trying to revive Teddy Grahams Breakfast Bears out of 10