Well, here I stand. On the precipice of hitherto untouched territory, gripping the first-ever spicy cereal with quivering mitts, like I’m Neo about to take my own personal red pill (y’know, before that term was irretrievably tarnished).

But will this precipice be a mere waypoint preceding cereal innovation’s newest pinnacle? Or the edge of a steep cliff that drops off into the fiery pits of Hell?

Allow me to find out, as your sacrificial scout. Your dauntless Dante. Your cinna-guinea pig.

Here goes nothing: one giant leap for Dan-kind.

Preceding my taste test like a sinister aura, CinnaFuego Toast Crunch gives off a potent odor that more or less gives away what it’s going to taste like. But before we get to the flavor, I”ll answer the question I know you’re really here for: is it spicy?

Let me go over my qualifications real quick: I am not a spicy food savant by any means. Granted, I’m not a total baby, having slowly worked my way up from not being able to tolerate even a drop of sriracha ketchup to enjoying a casual line of the real stuff mixed into dips, soups. eggs, etc. But I still order Thai food with no-to-low spice, and a stint on Hot Ones would undoubtedly not only kill me but also somehow erase all record of me from this earth, melting my blog, journals, and others’ memories of me into a thin red gruel.

With all that said, my first bite of CinnaFuego Toast Crunch—which looks just like normal CTC—wasn’t that spicy. On a scale of Cool Ranch to Flamin’ Hot Dorito, this is a high-Spicy Nacho. That is to say, it certainly tingled my tongue, and the heat definitely builds to an infernal crescendo the more you eat, but there’s no way this cereal is going to seriously challenge veteran habanero-seasoned palates.

Honestly though, I was barely paying attention to the spice, because I couldn’t get over the taste of CinnaFuego Toast Crunch. By which I mean I am absolutely caustically repulsed by it! What’s wrong with it? Where to begin…

First off, I never thought I’d say this about a Toast Crunch product, but where’s the sweetness? Despite the bag’s claim of a spicy-sweet balance, they really just doubled down on the spice, pairing the hot spice with an overwhelmingly literal cinnamon spice. Sure, this may be the most authentic Cinnamon Toast Crunch has been about its namesake ingredient, but the sharp cinnamon flavor here does not juxtapose the spiciness in any pleasant or meaningful way, instead only amplifying the pain and Spartan ordeal of the experience.

Maybe this would be different if that hot “pepper” spice actually had a complex flavor. Instead, it tastes like artificially engineered bland heat, and I have no idea what “natural flavors” General Mills used to generate it.

I thought milk might help to temper the unappetizing anguish, but it really just makes the unpleasant cinnamon pepper spray taste circulate better around your mouth cavity, in a simultaneously scorched and soggened earth approach.

So, yeah, more than any bland birthday cake affair or stale werewolf droppings, CinnaFuego Toast Crunch might just be my least favorite cereal I’ve reviewed for this blog. Note how I say “least favorite” rather than “worst,” because, despite my own dire distaste, I recognize that there’s totally an audience for this Divisive Toast Crunch out there. Heck, we already have documentation that my friend Gabe Fonseca of Cereal Time TV—who not only made a spicy cereal that predates this one, but also kindly sent me this pouch (Thanks Gabe!)—loves this stuff:

Gabe likes it for one decisive reason: he also likes hot cinnamon candies like Hot Tamales or Red Hots, which this cereal tastes exactly like. Since Gabe and I seem destined to have diametrically opposed cereal tastes (see the ongoing case of Fonseca v. Krave), you can probably guess that I do not like these candies and have, in fact, long loathed them. So don’t take my wizened word on CinnaFuego Toast Crunch as gospel, you can simply use your own thoughts on Hot Tamales to predict (with strong confidence) whether you’ll like C(F)TC.

I also don’t want to sound too down on CinnaFuego Toast Crunch, because I don’t want to discourage the food scientists and strategists who pushed the boundaries of cereal convention with this one. I still like the premise and the fact that a spicy cereal even exists. Just like with Green Onion Chex, which I also didn’t love gastronomically, it’s so much more unique than the aforementioned blasé birthday cake. So maybe do buy CinnaFuego, so we get more novel approaches like it in the future.

Whatever you do, though, you can be sure I’ll be chucking this stuff before trucking over and checking myself into Weenie Hut General.

The Bowl: CinnaFuego Toast Crunch

The Breakdown: Spiciness². If you like certain masochistic cinnamon candies, you’ll likely love this stuff. Me? I’m more of a gummy worms guy.

The Bottom Line: 1 hot take out of 10