Some flavors just stick.

S’Mores, brownie batter, caramel: all slightly unconventional flavors that, despite not being a honey nut, chocolate, or strawberry, always seem to find their way back into the breakfast aisle—and some how under our nails, in our hair, and even binding together electronics as a haphazard tape replacement.

What, you didn’t know toasted marshmallow was a great conductor?

In all seriousness, this class of adhesive alumni are led by their viscous valedictorian: maple syrup. A popular arboreal elixir in Vermont and Vancouver alike, maple is such a sticky flavor that Maple Cheerios, released last year as an allegedly Canada-exclusive cereal to celebrate the country’s 150th birthday (that’s a lot of pancake candles), has arrived in the U.S.

Must’ve stuck to the bottom of a border-crossing General Mills truck, hence the spilled-syrup maple leaf—I can only assume this is a government-issued Canadian seal of approval, like how America’s exported cereals must get ranch & mayonnaise stars & stripes.

So the bad news is that America’s Maple Cheerios, unlike its poutine, are identical to their Canadian counterparts, at least as far as my taste buds remember. And the worse news is that Canada’s take wasn’t particularly great.

That’s not to say they’re inedible from the forefront, but both versions of Maple Cheerios have high genetic similarity with Honey Nut Cheerios—we’re talking elk vs. moose here. Let’s just say that anyone who doesn’t read a cereal blog won’t have the critical palate to tell them apart, because from my first handful I recognized Honey Nut’s iconic sweet almond butter & earthy honey combo meal. While this is tasty—it’s the only cereal my dad’s eaten for decades for a reason—it leaves me disappointed that it takes until about a fortminute of chewing to detect even the subtlest leaflet of thin, more butter syrupy than maple sweetness.

Far from Hungry Jack, this is more like Satiated Jacob.

In milk, Maple Cheerios and Honey Nut Cheerios diverge a little more, as milk reconstitutes some of the dulled maple flavor like a Möbius-stripped bowl of maple brown sugar oatmeal—albeit a slightly sugar-watered down one. It’s as good as Honey Nut Cheerios, just in a different way. Both have their place, but one’s good for when you’re feeling nutty, and the other’s great for getting cozy under a Maple Leafs blanket while you watch Fargo. Because Minnesotan maple is a great analogue for this cereal.

That’s why I like that I can make it a little Vermonter. Call me crazy, but maple syrup makes Maple Cheerios infinitely better—it’s no Waffle Crisp with crumbled crepes, but it’s not a bad way to transition into fall, to bridge the gap before molasses season. Nevertheless, I’d love to see General Mills explore other viscous cereal varieties.

Like Chocolate Syrup Cocoa Puffs! Or ICEE Concentrate Trix! Gravy Toast Crunch is a maybe.

The Bowl: Maple Cheerios 2018

The Breakdown: It’s Honey Nut Cheerios hosed with skim maple syrup to craft an end product that isn’t spectacular, but is still pretty darn seasonally appropriate. And that’s what makes these better than Canada’s, which came out in the summer time, which is when I exclusively drink simple syrup.

The Bottom Line: 7 Ranch and MayO’s out of 10