National Cereal Day is a funny holiday.

See, despite the best efforts of cereal curators and Ralston researchers such as myself, no one knows exactly when this crunchiest day of the year was first commemorated, nor who it was that first raised their (presumably) marble mug–bowl hybrid to propose the occasion. That said, if you’d like to pretend it was my Great Grand-Pappy Cerealously IV, a humble Crunch Berry farmer from the milkily humid tropics, I wouldn’t be opposed.

All we know is that since the day starting gaining mainstream traction near the turn of the 21st century, National Cereal Day has remained more popular amongst food and local news outlets than other, more contested days. Perhaps it’s a testament to the comparative cultural significance of breakfast cereal, or perhaps just to the PR power of big cereal companies—bless them all for stocking my pantry in time for National Napping Day next week.

Regardless of the date’s disputed origins, it almost always creeps up on me like a ghost in the night or the smotherly love of a 5am house cat. I tend to myself awakening in disbelief to “March 7th” on the calendar, scrambling past my plans for scrambled eggs to write something fitting for this blog’s bona fide breakfast star. But this year, my resolve was steely and my focus was clear: I simply had to write about the already-legendary Honey Brunches of Oats flavors Post has released to both celebrate National Cereal Day and potentially initiate a bold new phase of the foodstuff’s future:

A dawning golden-brown—and perhaps, eventually, honey-mustardy—era of savory cereal.

Both these bite-sized barn animals have already been spotted in both Giant Eagle and Walmart stores, but my journey from farm to pantry was more of an a-graze-ing race. The kind folks at Post offered to send me a box, but after a postal system error—during which I cursed imagined package thieves before pitying them for the surprisingly fowl bounty they were about to unbox—I had to leave a polite mailbox note and desperately wait to hear from a distant neighbor in hopes they’d still have what was mistakenly delivered to them.

Thankfully, this kind soul was able to recover my morning soul food, and here I sit: pastorally sampling the stuff to see if it’s cud worth chewing or a dud worth ptooey-ing.

Post & Honey Brunches of Oats Chicken & Waffles Cereal Review

Let’s start with the flavor I was more excited for—largely because of its inclusion of what appear to be the spared souls of post-discontinuation Waffle Crisp, and partly because I want to try cramming the chicken leg pieces into the hands of a Simon Belmont action figure.

I’ll admit that while the gristly gams here look more like pescatarian cat treats in reality, I have no doubt in my mind that these are real Waffle Crisp pieces in both architecture and taste. True to their legacy, these pieces bring a familiar touch of Butterworthy fake syrup, as well as a signal-boosting brown sugar glaze and a Cap’n Crunchian mouthfeel. With a faux-Belgian beginning this strong, it’s easy to ignore the flakes and granola clusters, both of which are not only rare but contribute no discernible complexity to the cereal’s overall flavor profile—save for a heartier crunch and the occasional loose oat that gets tantalizingly trapped in the patchwork pores of a waffle piece, not unlike a curly fry found amongst the French.

But it doesn’t really matter that the flakes and clusters are mere filler, because the titular chicken and waffle combo is this cereal’s breaded and buttered. Despite earning the top billing (or should that phrase be reserved for a Peking Duck Cereal?), the chicken pieces are mere accents to the dominant golden maple profile. If you eat these clucking crisps individually, you can get wisps of processed chicken nugget, perhaps of the “Mc” or “Dinosaur” variety, but their dominant notes are a) salty and b) used frying oil and c) a few modest pangs of pepper and caramelized onion.

This kind of savoriness is definitely best used supplementally, so when combined with waffles and co., the cumulative mental image is that of a real waffle—albeit one left in the iron to the point of slight char-griddling, buttered and slightly syruped, and then returned to heat to seal in the whole deal.

Surprisingly, adding milk to Chicken & Waffles Cereal isn’t the derailed gravy train I expected. Rather, it acts as a rather modest equalizer that homogenizes the above experience to make sure you don’t get a bite that’s too overwhelmingly poultried. Though I would be extra careful of your milk-to-cereal ratio, as the more you think about drinking the endmilk of this stuff, the harder it gets to actually do it. I know Chicken & Waffles, as well as Maple Bacon Donut Cereal are both made without animal products, but in my brain the act of chicken slurping should be saved for soup, not some sweet slurry.

Ultimately, I think Chicken & Waffles Cereal brings exactly the amount of restraint needed to its eye-widening concept. The summative effect is that of extra-crunchy Waffle Crisp with a smoky twang—not unlike that of a rare, overdone corn flake—so those who like their toast somewhere south of F6 on this chart will likely enjoy giving this one a try, especially on an equally unique day like today. But for the more light-stomached, you might be better off picking the chicken pieces out to bread tomorrow’s dinner with.

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The Bottom Line: 7 Hamburglars in the henhouse out of 10

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Post & Honey Brunches of Oats Maple Bacon Donuts Cereal Review

If Chicken & Waffles Cereal was encore-worthy entrée of clever construction and flavor balance, I’m sorry to report that its porcine counterpart tips the scales towards uncanny meatiness much more than its featherweight fellow.

I’m a pretty big doughnut guy—a certain dinky variety is currently my favorite cereal of the year—but the ruby-studded rings in Maple Bacon Donut Cereal lack the ‘nutty nuance of its namesake baked good. Instead, the overwhelming taste of hickory-braised bacon hogs all this cereal’s taste bud real estate. From the first bite, it’s inarguably recognizable as condensed, cured, and fattily-fried pork, and while this could be pleasant for the more bacon-obsessed breakfasters of the world, the sensory smack of the stuff was much more than my sugar-seasoned tongue expected.

For much like in C&W Cereal, the flakes and clusters here serve largely textural purposes, and there are only meagre, diluted undercurrents of the maple flavor tasted earlier to tame the tides of oaky tallow.

I hoped milk might work its unifying magic again, but this sorcery is, too, not wholly effective. In spoonfuls where Maple Bacon Donut Cereal’s various components are well-balanced with milk, it becomes a memorable novelty comparable to the Pop-Tarts flavor of the same name. But the problem is that this stuff has more rings than a game of Sonic & Knuckles & Jared’s Galleria of Jewelry, so the majority of mouthfuls will likewise be over-glazed with both seared bacon and assorted spices—definitely not your typical flavor infusion for a drink that plays nice with Nesquik.

As I would with pretty much any cereal, I’d recommend you douse this stuff in real maple syrup to restore amber equilibrium to an experience sorely needing a new leaf to turn over. Maple Bacon Cereal could have been just as (positively) memorable as Chicken & Waffles if the chemical equation behind its flavors were balanced a bit better, but I guess pigs really are too portly. Bacon lovers should buy at their own risk, while those who prefer the first white meat might want to dodge this potential slop in the face in favor of the clear winner-winner-chicken-dinner of the two flavors.

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The Bottom Line: 4 carnivore’s dilemmas out of 10

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Despite my own opinion on the curlier tailed of these two cereals, I still heartily thank Post for sending me these and diligently assisting as I brought them home to roost. Honey Brunches of Oats (a name I hope returns next year with an Avocado Toast Cereal) definitely put a lot of their eggs in one cereal bowl for this, so no matter the result, this stuff’s a more ambitious exercise than just another spoonful of chocolate or mixed berry something-or-other.

And speaking of mixed…

…let’s just say the endmilk from this primordial protein combo looks like something that’d come out of the business end of a baster.

Have a happy National Cereal Day y’all, and thanks for the support. This is now my fourth NCD as a cereal blogger, and I’ll assure you, as always, that the positive reception I receive from readers (and now listeners!) is what warms my heart like a rotisserie chicken’s heat lamp and also what keeps me ballin’ and bowlin’ 365 days a year.