If you make a Pop-Tart organic, it’ll want a typewriter to tell people about it.
If you give that Pop-Tart a typewriter, it’ll need thick-rimmed glasses to see the keys.
When you give it thick-rimmed glasses, the Pop-Tart will need to know the proper pronunciation of “quinoa” for its upcoming poetry slam…
I jest, but Nature’s Path Organic’s toaster pastries are, in my mind’s eye, Hipster Pop-Tarts. And just like Trader John Misty—err, I mean, “Joe”—Nature’s Path has a sleek, pumpkin spiced pastry to compete with Pumpkin Pie Pop-Tarts: Kellogg’s big guns.
To paraphrase the illustrious Milhouse Van Houten: “Remember Trix? They’re back! …In Pog form 6 colors.
Okay, well Trix never actually left, but when General Mills removed the cereal’s artificial colors and flavors at the start of last year, it kind of desaturated the cereal in the public eye. And even I’ll admit that, while I appreciated the cereal’s newly authentic fruit flavor at first, its overly citrusy taste profile started to sour on me. Before long, I was out there on the front lines with my “Give Me Red Dye #40 Or Give Me An Even Swifter Death” picket sign.
And apparently General Mills heard the anguished cries of a bunny litter’s worth of distraught inner children, because now “Classic” Trix is back on shelves alongside its tri-colored companion. So whether you’re hankering for a carrot or a slice of carrot cake, Trix has something for you, your kids, and all your silly rabbits to gnaw on.
Let’s take a flavor roadtrip back to the ancient old days of early 2016, shall we? Don’t forget to bring your Sports Almanac! Continue reading →
Ha, I bet you thought my first ever waffle review was going to be some fancy pumpkin spiced Eggo, didn’t you? Or perhaps a frou-frou Kodiak Cake, or maybe a behind-the-scenes expose about my Grandma’s lovingly hand-griddled plaid cakes?
Wrong, wrong, and—bless her heart—wrong again.
No, my inaugural Belgian batter odyssey takes place in a questionably lit 7-11 parking lot, at approximately 7 minutes to 11. I’m sitting on the curb, next to the cicada buzz of a tired neon light, cradling an exclusive Stuffed Waffle, created as a partnership between the convenience store chain and Pillsbury.
It looks like a cafeteria grilled chicken tender, and I feel like a bucket of that cafeteria’s janitorial mop water. I’ve questioned my life choices many times, but before today, I never would imagined myself asking:
“Why didn’t I just buy the week-old rolling taquito?” Continue reading →
Like a coffee snob who thinks cream ruins roasted perfection or a hipster doughnut shop that only sells original and glazed, Tony the Tiger is an artisan.
While other cereal brands let their wacky flavor flags fly with any number of peanut buttery, gingerbready, or orange ice creamy variants, Anthony the Large Jungle Cat keeps it pretty minimalistic, preferring to perfect each flavor he introduces rather than rushing to meet some pumpkin spiced fad. After all, it took him 64 years to introduce a Cinnamon kind. And now, after the length of about 6–8 of Tony’s 9 feline lives, we finally get Chocolate Frosted Flakes.
What’s that you say, with your raised pitchfork pilfered from the clearance section of a Spirit Halloween? Chocolate Frosted Flakes already existed 20 years ago? Well those were Cocoa Frosted Flakes, not true-blue (or brown?) chocolate.
Oh, but you also say, holding a rudimentary torch made from back issues of the National Enquirer, “There are already two different kinds of Chocolate Frosted Flakes in my grocery store right now”? Well there are Frosted Flakes Choco Zucaritas made for Latin American markets, and Chocolate Frosted Flakes with Skeleton Marshmallows, made for Halloween, which are…uh…from a seasonal spin-off and therefore aren’t canon.
Phew. Through arbitrary technicalities, I’ve confirmed that 2017 Chocolate Frosted Flakes are the first of their kind. After all, Kellogg’s has made a big fuss about these ones are made differently. Like their much-hyped cinnamon-infusing process from 2016, the chocolatey frosting on these flakes is proprietarily designed to meet American tastes for milk chocolate, as opposed to Choco Zucaritas, which are supposed to be more dark chocolatey.
Thanks to @realtonytiger and the GRR-eat folks at @KelloggsUS, I'll be taste-testing Frosted Flakes' new, fudgiest fare shortly! 💪🐯🍫 pic.twitter.com/8U8wRimTu4
Maybe this is all choco hokum, but that’s not going to stop this American from indulging his sweet tooth. After Tony himself sent me this elaborate care package to try the stuff, I’d be remiss not to use his big metallic head to scoop shards of well-browned gold into my mouth like an emperor of the Nile. Continue reading →
I’ve long had a theory that every cereal a person could ever need can be formed through a triangulation of three “primary flavors.” The three corners of this Cerealluminati Pyramid (working title) are formed by chocolate, peanut butter, and strawberry. Think about it, sheeple people: while those three flavors are near-universally delightful by themselves, by pairing them you can make a choco-pb cereal, a PB&J cereal, or a chocolate fondued strawberry cereal.
And if you happen to find some hipster niche of cereal lovers that isn’t pleased by any of those, you can just combine all three and tear a rift in space-time through sheer flavor alchemy.
New Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios are proof that my philosophy of breakfast geometry isn’t so obtuse after all—in fact, it’s pretty acute. See, even though General Mills has a near-monopoly on chocolate peanut butter breakfast cereals with Reese’s Puffs, they still decided to release another cocoa-nutty product. That’s because, as a key bastion of my Cerealluminati Pyramid, the mouth-watering power of chocolate and peanut butter together really is that persuasively strong.
Unless, of course, my deeper conspiracy is true, in which case the prophecy of threes has yet to be fulfilled:
Conspiracy theory: Those Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios are holed-out Reese's Puffs, so the holes can be used for a Reese's Pieces Cereal.
October 14th, 2017: the day Dan finally shut up about wanting a gingerbread cereal.
Yes, this is a landmark day—literally: the spot where I excitedly stamped my feet upon tasting Gingerbread Spice Life Cereal is now craterous enough to be deemed a geologic point of interest. I’ve begged for a gingerbread cereal (Gingerbread Toast Crunch, to be more specific, but gingerbeggars can’t be choosers) since the first year I had enough teeth to eat both a gingerbread man and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And after decades of disappointment, that stoically grinning Quaker Oats guy must have finally felt my annoying laments reverberate through his 2-dimensional cardboard plane, because we now have Gingerbread Spice Life Cereal: America’s first ever gingerbread breakfast cereal.
I told myself I’d wait ’til winter months to review this stuff, since i have so many autumn treats to write about, but pumpkin spice and caramel apple be damned: if I don’t give my inner child this one, he’s going to beat my internal organs with a whiffle ball bat and a pair of Sock’em Boppers. Continue reading →
That’s right: Burger King’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch Shake is the seventh cereal milkshake I’ve reviewed in the year 2017. In fact, it’s the seventh cereal milkshake I’ve reviewed ever.
Cinnamon Toast Crunch is a top candidate for Most-Beloved Cereal Ever. Alongside, Honey Nut Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, and Cap’n Crunch, it’s a cult classic—and for good reason: it’s got cinnamon sugar swirls in every bite. It’s the taste you can see!
Well now it’s the taste you can suck, too, thanks to Burger King. I don’t know how it took so long for the Meat-Puck Maestro to adapt this fan favorite, but I’m glad he did. The cylindrical ivory tower standing before me, adorned with an ethereal whipped cream peak and filled with modest beige freckles, is certainly an unassuming beast, but I’m ready to take down its pasteurized soft-serve Walls of Jericho with my plastic reverse-trumpet.
As I patiently wait for my local Burger King to stock their new Cinnamon Toast Crunch Shake—hurry up, Mr. Beef Royalty: it’s cold waiting out in this tent made of Whopper wrappers—I figured I’d finish my review series of Steak ‘n Shake’s menagerie of breakfast cereal-infused arctic beverages.
When we last left our humble, shake-sucking heroes, they had polished off Cinnamon Crunch and Honey Smacks Shakes at an ungodly hour under the gaze of Sauron-tinted neon lights and nearby angst-tinged teenagers. I recommend you read Part 1, if you haven’t already, because I don’t want to re-tread too much old ground in this post—after all, my stomach still hurts from the whole “mildly lactose intolerant” thing.
The things I do for breakfast journalism.
In short, though, the shakes were good, but BK’sshakes were superior in every way, on account of them actually mixing in syrupy cereal magic syrup instead of just plopping cereal pieces on top. This could’ve put the kibosh on my pasteurized odyssey, but the Steak ‘n Shake waiter said Cocoa Krispies and Frosted Flakes were by far the most popular flavors. Tempted by this forbidden fruit (“Frosted” is a fruit, right?), I set off with my shake-craving sidekick once more to put that waiter’s money where my dairy-sensitive gastrointestinal system is.
