(Had to show off the lovely ‘Easter Weather’)

Peeps are cute.

There, I said it. Happy now?

I don’t care if loving their pastel colors, minimalistic anatomy, and chibi countenance makes me any less of a gritty, macho cereal blogger—sorry, Mr. Universe: I’m declining the invitation—Peeps will always be welcome on my couch and in my Easter basket, even if I end up forgetting a few half-eaten packages of them under my bed.

My dad will never let me live down that now-mummified mistake.

Aesthetic enchantment aside, I will concede that the flavor and texture of Peeps is a polarizing and tinglingly molarizing issue. While I appreciate topiary marshmallow art when it’s seasonally appropriate, I can empathize with those who avoid the chicks and bunnies like glittered styrofoam.

Because even for me, the initial thought of a Peeps Cereal seemed foreboding. Along with Sour Patch Kids Cereal and upcoming Chicken & Waffles Cereal, it felt as if three of the four cereal horsemen of the apocalypse were leading their steeds away from milky troughs and into battle. And seeing that it’s a “marshmallow-flavored cereal with marshmallows” only made me welcome whatever cereal Death’s white mare will rear (Scynnamon Scythes?).

But then I saw the box, and my worries melted into a childish frenzy of “gotta try it” tunnel vision. I mean, just look at those loop colors: I want a beaded curtain of ’em! So whether you’re a Peeps fan or protestor, join me in my trip down the double-‘mallowed rabbit hole.

I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

Can I recalibrate my ambitions and just stuff a Peep-shaped beanbag chair with this stuff? Or maybe use it as packing peanuts (don’t make me say Peep-nuts) to mail the box back to Mordor?

I just really want to find a productive use for Peeps Cereal, because as it adorably stands, it’s just…not…great. While anyone not blinded by post-Beanie Baby angst could predict that marshmallow-flavored loops wouldn’t have unfathomable depths of flavor, I’m nevertheless let down by just how bland Peeps Cereal’s borderline Olympian rings taste.

Peeps loops are very much descendants of the same Kellogg’s recipe family that brought us Pink Donut Cereal and Unicorn Cereal—in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re made from three different richness settings on the same industrial looping machine. But while Pink Donut Cereal brought legitimate frosted animal cookie goodness to breakfast, Peeps Cereal comes closer to Unicorn Cereal’s “Magic Cupcake” flavor—if it were demystified.

Gone are the horned horse’s buttery notes of chemical frosting, replaced with pops of more generic, grocery store cake frosting slathered on shortbread. Peeps Cereal pieces, while thick and heartily crunchy, carry a very nebulous cloud of this marshmallow cologne, and they instead rely on their actual marshmallows to boost the potency of what is an otherwise tame bowl of domesticated animal crackers.

And the marshmallows don’t exactly do a great job. Beyond their crime of not having even remotely zoological shapes outside of “sleeping baby seal,” Peeps Cereal marshmallows simply aren’t big enough or (surprisingly) numerous enough to fill the loops’ deliciousness gaps. As it stands, the whole dry lot of it is merely a step away from being crunchified Marshmallows Only Lucky Charms—not exactly a compliment, as both are about as one-note in their appeal as a gummy dogwhistle.

Just as a real Peep would likely be brought to soupy entropy by prolonged milk dunking, so too should Peeps Cereal be kept away from any tempting dairy. The designer marshmallow perfume it wears is overpowered by even the skimmest of cream flavor, leaving behind hollow loops and soggy marbits swollen with plastic charmlessness—like a FunkO’s Cereal made entirely of actual chopped-up Funko Pops.

But because these Peeps nearly put me to sleeps eaten dry or milked, I knew the cereal’s only chance at substantial redemption would be a Voltron-trumping combination of power so forbidden I may be exiled from the Church of Latter Day Peeps.

Yes, while Peeps Cereal missed its potentially spiritual connection with Peeps Milk by a whole year, the egg-headed mad scientists behind the brand gave us an elixir even more decadent: International Delight Peeps Coffee Creamer.

This stuff is the pallid pale yellow of a Suds-afflicted SpongeBob, and it regrettably turns Peeps Cereal into a self-loathingly attractive cocktail of chunky marshmallow fluff liqueur—the kind of calamity you can’t look away from as it train-wrecks your intestinal highways. So while many OSHA warnings preclude me from recommending this particular mix, I will say that this creamer adds a nice ‘sugar cookie custard’ finish to coffee itself, making it ideal for those who have gotten tired of tried-and-true French Vanilla creamer but don’t want something crazy specific they’ll get burnt out on.

Peeps Cereal is difficult to recommend for anything besides pre-brunch Easter breakfasts and obsessive ambrosia salad addicts. I’ll proudly serve it from a marbled basket at my own Easter bash, but anyone else who braves a box might want to consider making Peeps Krispies Treats instead of treating this like a normal cereal. Because by all metrics but kawaii appeal, Pink Donut Cereal has these hares beaten by a sweet & steady mile.

Sorry Kellogg’s: maybe you can make up for this cross-category faux pas with some Froot Loop-flavored Peeps next year.

The Bowl: Kellogg’s Peeps Cereal

The Breakdown: All sugar and no spice of life, Peeps Cereal’s cute exterior hides a shallow personality. It might be worth a (non-family-sized) trial for seasonal novelty’s sake, but unless you’re willing to sacrifice 3 years off your life for a creamer-coated photo op, you’re probably better off putting pink bunny ears on a donut.

The Bottom Line: 4.5 Baby Seals of Disapproval out of 10

(BONUS: Check out my recent thread on the fascinating back of a Peeps Cereal box!)