The pumpkin spice virus…it’s spread too far. We thought if anyone would be able to resist its nutmeg-scented temptation, it would be the Quaker Oats guy. But even his luscious white locks couldn’t protect him. The a-pumpk-alypse is upon us.

In reality, the existence of Pumpkin Spice Quaker Oatmeal is no surprise. I think there are more varieties of Quaker oatmeal than there are actual pumpkins (don’t fact check me on that), so it was only a matter of time before pumpkin reared its bulbous head.

This is the first oatmeal we’ve reviewed on this site so far, but hot cereals are cereal too, so they deserve fair representation. We’re all about equality here at Cerealously.

Emptying out the contents of my oatmeal packet, I’m stunned by just how un-stunning this stuff looks. I expected exaggerated orange chunks, spicy clusters, and maybe even an actual talking gourd that would be my wisecracking breakfast sidekick.

I have high expectations.

But no: this just looks like normal, unflavored oatmeal, and smells like it, too.

Now there are two ways to make this stuff, and I’m sure the “water vs. milk” debate has started many, incredibly stupid internet flame wars, but I’m going with the egalitarian approach again. I have water, milk, and enough packets of oatmeal to give them out as the world’s most sketchy trick-or-treat gifts, so there’s no reason not to try both.

First up is water. Just look at this stuff. I know oatmeal is technically a “hot” cereal, but I certainly wouldn’t call it attractive. After slopping a heaping spoonful of the beige mush into my mouth, I felt a bit like one of the poor kids in Oliver Twist: this stuff doesn’t taste like anything.

Outside of the traditional earthy, Quaker oatmeal flavor (I call it earthQuakerness), I’m just left with a moist goop. There’s a hint of cinnamon here and there, but it’s more like scooping the mealy inner guts of a jack-o-lantern right into your mouth. I almost wish Quaker had branded this for Halloween, so they could call it “ghoul gruel.”

After milking and making my second batch of Pumpkin Spice oatmeal, I’m left with a bowl of much creamier, whiter oatmeal. This stuff isn’t winning any beauty pageants either, and “I’m dreaming…of a white…oatmeal.” probably won’t be a hit Christmas song any time soon, either.

As for the flavor, it’s certainly better than its runny, watery cousin, but not by much. The pumpkin spice notes are more pronounced, with cinnamon and nutmeg being the most noticeable. However, I occasionally get unpleasant, inexplicably bitter bursts of spice. Altogether, it’s a bit like eating the filling of a pumpkin pie that was spiced by a poorly trained chimpanzee; the flavor balances are unbalanced, but at least it’s creamy.

So I can’t really recommend Quaker’s Pumpkin Spice Oatmeal in any capacity, unless you love the idea of gumming vaguely pumpkin-y goo or need something mushy enough to break the fall of an egg for a middle school science project.

Maybe if Quaker had trained a dolphin instead, he would’ve gotten it right.

The Bowl: Quaker Pumpkin Spice Oatmeal

The Breakdown: What few pumpkin spices that are actually there are not balanced properly. If you’re gonna eat it, eat it with milk. But you should probably just save yourself the $3 and buy an actual pumpkin to carve instead.

The Bottom Line: 3 anthropomorphic gourd buddies out of 10