Like it or not, it’s already clear that blue may very well be the defining color of 2020. I mean, we’re *only* 1/6th of the way through the year, and we’ve already seen:
a) Pantone [bafflingly] name “Classic Blue” as their color of the year,
b) Cap’n Crunch drip liquefied Na’vi slime onto our pancakes,
c) Cereal blogger Dan G. succumb and be reborn by the Midwest winter blues, and
d) I’ve tried to scream the idea of La Croix kegs into existence until I’m blue in the face. La Craigs, people!!
Now, Fred and Barney are bringing a touch of Brontosaurian blue to modern breakfasts, too, with Magic Fruity Pebbles—a cereal that sells itself on the concept of turning milk blue, which is admittedly so not-innovative by this point that it feels anachronistically appropriate for this prehistoric pair.
But are these pinkened Pebbles’ gimmick still worth gulping down? I’m willing to die my intestines a peculiar shade of azure in order to answer that. Continue reading →
No, really. Though of course all food is three-dimensional, especially the well-rounded corn puff, but when it comes to crunchy quadrilaterals, we get a lot of squarish, rectangular, and pillowy things, yet never any perfectionist-pleasing union of six squares. Hence why cereal scholars have been asking for decades: when will breakfast enter its cubist period?
Following their controversial performance piece “The Bastardization of Rice Krispies Treats Cereal,” A.M. auteurs Snap, Crackle and Pop are back with a freshly caramelized coat of paint on last year’s Snap Crackle Poppers. So while I loathe what’s become of RKTC with every snap and crackle of my boiling blood, this line of miniaturized and glazed Treats is actually pretty good—especially the Cookies ‘n’ Creme ones.
It’s surely only a matter of time before Kellogg’s piggybacks off this geometric success to release Raisin Bran bites in the shape of Metatron’s Cube. But in the mean time, let’s see how the Rice Krispies boys’ latest inherently stackable snack stacks up to its predecessors. Continue reading →
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards breakfast to be born?
Seriously: if you showed me the above product 30 years ago, my dad would be putting a fist in your soon-to-be-twinkling eye. But seriously Cerealously: I’ve become so accustomed to the notion of Pop-Tarts as a cereal that I hardly stopped to consider the infinite opportunity within its inverse.
Now, Froot Loops probably wouldn’t be my first choice for a co-branded Kellogg’s Crunch-Tart. I would’ve picked Raisin Bran or Cocoa Krispies, if only so they could be called Snap, Crackle Pop-Tarts. But nevertheless, this sort of fusion you’d think would be forbidden by church and state alike has come to my bruncheon nook
Churning and churning in my widening stomach The Toucan cannot hear the toaster; Crust falls apart, the filling cannot hold; Iced anarchy is Looped upon my bowl.Continue reading →
Sure, Dr. Robotnik might be smart in the 2020 Valentine’s Day box office darling Sonic the Hedgehog, but can he see why caffeine-addicted young adults love the taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch Coffee Creamer?
It’s got cinnamon sugar swirls in every swig: it’s the taste that can seep!
Jokes and flossing hedgehogs aside, something’s been messing with my brain: the fact that we’ve gotten more semifluidadditions to the Toast Crunch family lately than we have crunchable cereals.
Coupled with Malt-O-Meal’s successful reintroduction of Blueberry Muffin Toasters, this leaves me wondering whether Cinnamon Toast Crunch, ostensibly one of cereal’s most iconic names, is stagnating as a brand. I mean, the last Toast Crunch we got was just the same thing cylinderized! Where’s the return of Peanut Butter Toast Crunch? Where’s the PB&J sequel to Peanut Butter Toast Crunch I just thought of? And the trilogy-closing Elvis Toast Crunch that many critics would call “breakfast’s most cinematic feat”?
Sorry, I might just be jaded and jittery thanks to this taste test. I promise I’m not dismissing Coffee Mate’s new Cinnamon Toast Crunch Coffee Creamer before the review even starts—I’m just a mildly lactose intolerant cereal blogger who wants to get back to his oat milk.Continue reading →
Milk? Never heard of her. Is that some fermented barnyard beverage, like a cow-bucha?
I mean, it’s 2020: we’ve got more viscous things to pour over our cereal. While many make a New Year’s resolution to get thinner, there’s a skim-to-none chance that I don’t spend the year progressively thickening my breakfast additives.
Case in point: new Yoplait Trix & Cinnamon Toast Crunch Smoothies, two chuggable recontextualizations of popular cereals that are likely not meant to join their namesake noshes in bowl-y matrimony—though I am hellbent on doing so anyway. These bottles come four to a clumsily constructed cardboard pack (seriously, put these in a separate bag or you’ll end up bungling a liter of chilled Trix sauce down your front steps), and conveniently contain exactly enough smoothie to douse a bowl of cereal.
But of course, I must slug ’em back raw before any experimentation. So forgive me as I make whatever wretched noises accompany the process of “opening up one’s throat.” Continue reading →
Or at least I do. I love all bits, whether it’s exponentially sugar-fortified cereal dust, forgotten salt-stewed French fry-lets, or the last messy bite of a restaurant meal that you saved as a parting gift for yourself after boxing up the rest of the leftovers—the very same last bite you had to awkwardly tell the waiter you were saving as he’s midway through lifting the plate from your desperate mitts. Or maybe that’s just me.
No matter how you spin it, I’ll always love bits more than pieces. Well, unless it’s those honey mustard and onion pretzel pieces. And I wouldn’t be surprised if my strange bit-diction stems from a long childhood relationship with Timbits: those lovable lil totally-not-doughnut-holes from Tim Hortons that just about any teacher who had a hope of winning their class’ trust would bring in by the party pack-ful on syllabus day.
Though Tim Hortons and his namesake ‘bits were a source of warm nostalgia for my fellow Michiganders, the coffee chain is a more deeply in-granulated cultural epicenter in its country of origin, Canada. So it makes sense that the first ever Timbits Cereal would be released exclusively north of the states—even if I firmly believe my mitten of origin should be considered an annexed state of the Hortonian Empire. Thanks to Cereal Time’s Gabe Fonseca, I was able to secure boxes of both Timbits Cereal flavors, Birthday Cake and Chocolate Glazed.
So let’s all grab a coffee, PBR coffee, or perhaps some strange soup of poutine and Labatt Blue and see if these itty bitty Timbits are a slam dunk. Continue reading →
For those without this very specific genetic disposition to oddly specific early Internet web cartoon references, Cheat Commandos…O’s are a cheap cash-in on an already merchandized-by-design franchise. And to this day, I can’t figure out which cereal they used to model it—perhaps it’s actually dried macaroni and cheese, or perhaps the petrified remains of a shredded Bronco Trolley.
Much like Cheat Commandos, Shopkins is a line of toys, apparel, and by this point (probably) orthodox faiths. In short: it consists largely of blind bag toys shaped like sentient grocery items. In long: yo dog we heard you like shopping so we put consumer goods in your consumer good so you can spend food money on fake food that implicitly costs fake money, too.
Granted, I’m not judging the ouroboric commercialism that Shopkins embodies—heck, I think the adjacently themed ’80s Food Fighters are some of the best-looking action figures in history. Though it is a shame they never made a grizzled bowl of cereal armed with a tactical bootspork.
Shopkins is just something I’m far too old for, admittedly, but I’m nevertheless hesitant any time a beloved brand of non-cereal ends up emblazoned on the front of a dubiously flavored hot pink rectangular prism. Licensed cereals are usually hit or miss or impermissibly lame. Even those remembered fondly, like Pokémon Cereal, are almost always retrospectively delicious because they’re acceptably executed bootleg Lucky Charms—with prettier marbits than the heretical excuses for freeze-dried sugar they put in such licensed cereals nowadays.
At least Shopkins’ new Cutie O’s Cereal has a relatively original flavor. Outside of one juicy box of Raisin Bran, apple and strawberry make for a rare pairing—though we are starting off on the wrong plastic footlong, as my lifelong penchant for strawberry kiwi has me Pavlovianly drooling venomous vitriol at the sight of a green-fruited competitor to my mental “Best Capri-Sun” throne. But alright, Kawaii Granny Smith: I’ll sheathe my ceremonial paring knife while you state your case. Continue reading →
Anybody else got weird, yet oh-so-satisfying ways to eat food? And I don’t mean any particular combination of foods—though I will proudly die on the Pringles with Ketchup Hill, as it’s where my family plot will be.
No, I’m talking unconventional approaches to the physical act of eating something. Sure, there are classics, like unscrewing and licking an Oreo clean or consuming Snickers with a fork & knife. And there are more disturbing ones, like those who eat kiwis with the fuzzy flesh on, or the worryingly confident breed of Fun Dip consumer who eats the sticks totally unadorned.
Personally, I like to eat completely around the cookie part of a Twix to save it for last, consume a handful of popcorn like an apple, and more-than-occasionally swallow pasta noodles whole for the unique tracheal imprint left by each respective shape. Oh, and I used to unknowingly eat Reese’s Cups with the paper still on until an embarrassingly mature age.
Pop-Tarts are far from immune from this sort of nuanced noshing. While my formerly frowned-upon habit of freezing toaster pastries has now been largely normalized (you’re welcome), I still know many who will nibble around the crust before handling the sweet meat of the matter. This may be less barbaric (albeit less creative) than eating the insides before the crust, but either way these folks are depriving themselves of the blessed balance struck at the baked-in slip fault between frosting and crisped crust.
No, now that I’ve eaten Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites, I believe there is a better way: one that may be difficult to scale up to a regular Pop-Tart, but which ought to nevertheless cleave your breakfast time traditions in twain. Continue reading →
