Category Archives: Reviews

Review: Pillsbury S’Mores Golden Grahams Toaster Strudel

New Pillsbury S'Mores Golden Grahams Toaster Strudel Review - Box

P. is for pouches, they’re foiled & grand!
O. is for OH YES!, my response to the brand.
P. is for pouches, c’mon can’t you read?
– is the hyphenated joy of a fast feed.
T. is for toasted, as all Tarts should be.
A. is for awesome, this crust fills me with glee!
R. is for Raspberry, the worst compared to Strawberry.
T. is for the filling: is it good? My answer: very.
S. is for sweet icing, a true sort of edible art.

And those, my friends, are the reasons I love Pop-Tarts.

Okay phew, I’ve put the Kellogg’s execs reading this to sleep: now let’s talk about how good these Toaster Strudels are.

Sure, I’ll be the first to admit that I have very little Toaster Strudel experience. I grew up on P-T (which is, in a sense, the opposite of P.T. the game), and with that kind of lifelong conditioning, anything more than tearing open a crumb-spewing pouch with the elegance of a resident campsite raccoon feels like too much work to get a toaster pastry in my stomach.

But if there’s one flavor I’d move mountains for—assuming there’s a rich vein of graham’d ore to suckle beneath them—it’s Golden Grahams. Though I have no proof of this, Golden Grahams seems to be the most popular cereal that never gets flavor variants, despite how obvious the possibilities are. Perhaps this is just a testament to Golden Graham’s chaste and pure breakfast beauty, but with a bunch of other s’mores cereals out there using Golden Grahams-esque pieces, it’s kind of strange that the General Mills brand has only given Golden Grahams the S’Mores treatment in cereal bars and now flaky strudels—maybe when GM’s legendary S’Mores Crunch was discontinued way back, the S’Morecerer casted an unbreakable “do nut resuscitate” spell in retaliation.

Unblazed cereal frontiers aside, I’m excited to get my large rectangular graham on, a little thicker than usual. Continue reading

Quick Review: Tropical Froot Loops (2020)

2020 Tropical Froot Loops Box Cereal Review

There are many harsh truths in this world: nothing is fair, some people genetically can’t enjoy cilantro, and they’re just going to keep putting tags on shirts even though a flappy piece of rough fabric slapping your tender neck seems like an antithetical idea when considering the purpose of clothing.

Oh, and one more: there can only be one Froot Loops. The rest must be considered “Worse Loops.”

I’ve reviewed Tropical Froot Loops once already, so I will keep this quick. As my Empty Bowl cohost Justin accurately states, these deserve the title of “Froot Loops,” while the O.G. stuff can crawl back under whatever lab-synthesized schnozzberry bush they came from. But did the full cornucopia of goodness found in the once Mexico-exclusive Tropical Froot Loops survive their flight north for the summer?

Well seem to think so. Justin disagreed in our latest episode, but if my discerning taste buds weren’t able to detect a difference in Kellogg’s localized Loops, I doubt most people will have a problem. Mostly because, if you never tried (i.e. spent $20–$30 to import) Mexican Tropical Froot Loops when they came out, you’ll be too enchanted by this island time experience to get granularly critical. Continue reading

Review: Dunkin’ Donuts Cereal – Caramel Macchiato & Mocha Latte

New Dunkin' Cereal Review

Not since the egg predated the chicken has such a causality dilemma been posed: “but first, cereal” or “but first, coffee”? I’m sure you’ve seen the latter phrase emblazoned on countless Etsy shirts and flea market embroideries—right next to the Live, Laugh, Love pillows and fat chicken kitchen décor—but with cereal serving as a perfect toothsome preface to just about any activity, sometimes one can face cognitive gridlock when forced to choose between a warm mugful and a cold-milked bowlful.

But worry no longer, crunchy koan ponderers, because Post & Dunkin’ have teamed up to reanimate the Donut-slinging brand’s cereal division, which has laid dormant since Ralston stopped making their chocolate and glazed goodies in the late ’80s. Granted, these two new cereals are based on coffee drinks rather than doughnuts, but that simply gives you an excuse to dunk a real cruller in your caffeinated cereal endmilk.

Yes, it is this last point that makes Dunkin’ cereals so significant—there have been mainstream coffee-flavored cereals before, but none that dared bring real bouncy bean juice into a supermarket aisle already known for sugar-rushing young kids: the last demographic that needs more energy. Sure, Dunkin’ cereals only contain 1/10th the caffeine of a cup of coffee per serving, but if my own childhood cereal consumption velocity is any indication, those perky percentiles will add up fast—the length of a single SpongeBob episode kind of fast.

But enough pep talk, let’s simultaneously eat and drink our breakfast. Continue reading

Review: South Korean Green Onion Chex Cereal

South Korean Green Onion Chex Cereal Review Box

DON’T READ THIS.

Remember all those chain letters from the internet’s gullible youth that would start in largely the same way, threatening that if you don’t, say, send this cereal review to 10 other people, Chaka the ogreish Chex piece will sneak into your room at 3a.m. tonight and belch directly into your mouth?

That’s exactly how cursed Kellogg’s of South Korea’s Green Onion Chex Cereal feels. If you aren’t familiar with why this cereal exists, trust me: there’s no way its taste could be more interesting than its origin story, so I suggest you read my first post on the topic before continuing. But even though it’s a great tale, I’m no longer convinced it’s more than a government coverup. Kellogg’s SK may claim that their 2004 mock election between double-chocolate Cheky and green onion Chaka—the latter of whom won the popular vote in a landslide thanks to online agitators—was rigged so kids could enjoy the chocolatey cereal they’d already planned, I think the truth could be more sinister. Perhaps, after Chaka won and Kellogg’s decided to craft a Green Onion Chex, the end result was a substance so foreboding and oppressive that they had to seal it away like an unspeakable eldritch horror.

And now, after 16 years, they aren’t charitably making up for an earlier snub. No, they’re doing damage control: the dormant Chaka’s slumber has been disturbed by 2020’s various…2020isms…and now much like Rita Repulsa, he’s finally free to conquer Earth with his many layers of cross-hatched crunchy creepiness.

Is that to say Green Onion Chex tastes bad? Well, the answer isn’t cut and dry. More like, “cut and watch your eyes water right into the bowl.” Continue reading

Review: H-E-B Cerealology (x9!)

H-E-B Cerealology Review - Boxes

If you thought the name “Cerealously” was a real mouthful—which should really be the site’s official slogan—well there’s a new toothsome, tongue-twisting portmanteau in town. That is, if your town falls anywhere in the Lone Star State.

While they may not be entirely new, H-E-B’s distinct and diverse line of “Cerealology” chef-inspired cereals/granolas are certainly new to me. With huge thanks to Empty Bowl listener Douglas, who not only sent me all of the above cereals but a box of Lactaid for my lactose-hating stomach as well, I can now try H-E-B’s whole crunch-ography for myself. And with a whole bunch of exciting names, with innovative mix-ins never before seen in cereal history, this geologically vast study of Cerealology is sure to turn up at least a few lovingly pressurized gems.

Since I’ve got enough cereal here to feed a lecture hall of hangry biology students, I’m going to try to be succinct when reviewing each Cerealology flavor. So grab your milk-colored lab coats and a microscopic spoon, because we’re about to be munching and mulling at a molecular level. Continue reading

Review: Minions Vanilla Vibe Cereal

New Minions Vanilla Vibe Cereal Review - Box

(I cropped this one tall solely so you could see Benny’s head)

Do not read this review in the Alps.

Do not read this review while hunting or fishing.

And certainly do not read this review with any sleeping children in the house, because the seismic sigh I’m about to release could make avalanches, ripples, and crybaby dribbles:

*SIGH*

There, that feels better. Hopefully your pets haven’t been spooked and you weren’t in range of my sugar corn-scented breath—that stuff’s Gru-some. Heh, see what I did there? Just a little Despicable humor from Me.

Please laugh with me. I need something positive to come out of this review. I’m going to keep it quick, because Minions Vanilla Vibe is just an awful, terrible cereal. And no, I’m not saying that in the classic dad joke sense of “oh, these taste horrible! I’ll get rid of ’em for you.” No, Minions Vanilla Vibe cereal—pardon my crudeness here—sucks. From both a flavorful and ideological point of view. Allow me to (briefly) elaborate: Continue reading

Review: Honey Maid Cinnamon Graham Cereal

New Honey Maid Cinnamon Graham Cereal Review Box

This is a momentous review. The kind of review that deserves a content warning: this article contains atomically divisive statements, polarizing particles capable of sparking a potential second Cereal Civil War—we all remember the seismic defeat of Quake by Quisp in the Great Quaker Quarrel of ’71. Anyway, if you made it through that sentence, I figure you’re ready to weather my scalding hot take:

Post’s Honey Maid Cinnamon Graham Cereal is better than Cinnamon Toast Crunch. In fact, it’s not even close—it’s a bona fide cinnamon slobber-knocker. For with one sweet and sweeping swing of its ingredients list, Honey Maid Graham Cereal simply bests CTC at a foundational level, rendering it undeserving of further comparison.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch is one of the most popular cereals of all time. That’s why I’m ready to accept the zinger slings and meme arrows of many doubtful Cinnamon Toast Crunchers. But I advise you, before saying more, to try a box of Honey Maid Cinnamon Graham Cereal for yourself and decide. You may not agree, but I doubt you’ll be disappointed you tried. Anyway, on to the real meat of this graham-burger beefcake of a new cereal.

Continue reading

Review: Lucky Charms with Honey Clovers

New Honey Lucky Charms Cereal Review with Honey Clovers Box

You had one job, Lucky. One job!

Lucky Charms is a cultural treasure of a cereal. So much so that I’d wager over 2/3 of TV jokes about cereal somehow involve technicolor marshmallows. But while the one-note marbits are Lucky Charms’ Wonder Bread and butter, the oat bits that complement every ‘mallow are just as foundationally important to the overall integrity of this cereal we love so much. After all, what is a burst of dreamy sugar without a little grainy realism to bring your orbiting taste buds back down to earthiness?

Contrary to what major breakfast manufacturers seem to believe (for no doubt cost-saving reasons), a cereal’s base grain choice is critical. This can make or break an entire product, depending upon how any given mixture of corn, oat, wheat or rice flours are forged into a certain shape and are given a certain flavor. And while corn definitely has its place in the cereal aisle, it works best when the cereal itself is a celebration of corn. Corn Pops? It sure does. Corn Bran? Why corn’t it? Oh, and Frosted Flakes (of Corn)? I’d expect them to be of nothing less.

But when corn is merely a cereal’s airy and craggy stage, instead of a lead actor, any nuanced flavor basted upon it has to fight for tasteful dominance against its own brazen, maize’n terrain—like sunflower rows growing from concrete. That’s Honey Lucky Charms’ mortal sin: just like Chocolate Lucky Charms and the especially mediocre Fruity Lucky Charms, oat is swapped for corn and then given a flavor, flavors that need oat’s grounding hug more than ever.

But there’s a bit more to this cereal than my rambling intro would have you believe: I’m gonna temper my corn vendetta for a moment and jump right to the honey shot: Continue reading