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 years, breaking 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.

The most important clarification to make about Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs is that these aren’t any measly Reese’s Puffs. These are buff puffs. Each moody tan or magenta sphere is closer to the size of a Crunch Berry, and a real estate of a Crunch Berry, at that.

This also means Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs treat your palate much more roughly than the plush stickiness of a real PB&J, so no matter your opinion the stuff, please munch responsibly.

Thankfully, my opinion is that it’s pretty darn good. Any given Peanut Butter &/or Jelly Puff tends to taste more like PB&J, rather than peanut butter and jelly. That is to say, it’s difficult to discern the nuances of each sticky–sweet component at play, since they all kind of get mucked up together.

But from my evaluation, this is (surprisingly) a jelly-forward cereal. Each bite is led by a burst of momentarily juicy candied fruit, which somehow manages to taste both like strawberry and grape (and maybe raspberry?) at the same time, despite the character on the box. These pre-milked waters turn a murkier shade of orchid when you learn there is no explicitly named fruit ingredient at play here—there’s real peanut butter, but the rest is “natural flavor.”

Even though the rich fruitiness is more Swedish Fish than Smucker’s, it pairs charmingly with the more muted, yet grounding peanut butter flavor, which brings the jelly jamboree down a few decibels with a welcome balance of roasted sweetness and sorta saltiness. It’s a more nuanced and genuine peanut butter flavor than you’d find in Reese’s Puffs or JIF Cereal, and while, deep down, I’d hope that peanut butter could’ve played a less ancillary role here, it’s certainly more than a stock character.

Milk works well with Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs by remedying my main problem with the dry experience. This stuff’s pretty airy, revealing just how literal these puffs are when adjusted for inflation. And this is less a critique on airiness’ effect on taste, and more an issue of texture. Crunching each puff is like crunching up a small glass pony: it’s hard to savor in the splendor when your tongue has befallen a flurry of sharp fragments.

Long story short, milk gives these crude chrysalises a better shot at sustainable enjoyment. Air pockets are swollen full of gentle milk, flavors are more fully swirled together, and the whole thing ends up tasting how peanut butter & jelly sandwiches taste to a childlike palate unsullied by adulthood: nebulously nutty, syruped with strange juice, and viscerally delightful.

If you’re swinging by Aldi and want a unique cereal experience, I’d say Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs are worth a shot. Strawberry and grape jelly lovers alike will enjoy this reimagined classic, all mashed up and sugarcoated in a box.

Though that shouldn’t stop the descendants of Harry Reese from going at some Peanut Butter Crunch with syringes. They can still redeem their legacy!

The Bowl: Millville Peanut Butter & Jelly Puffs

The Breakdown: Another solid (and sticky) winner from Millville, what these puffs lack in density, they make up for in creativity. PB takes a backseat to a melting pot of a jam jar, and the whole world waits in anticipation to see if Post will take this idea to bigger markets.

The Bottom Line: 8 salty overbites out of 10