Lucky Charms? Frosted Flakes? Honey Bunches of Oats?

Sure, they’re classic cereals, but are they legends? You can’t have a myth without the mythology, nor a hero without an origin story. And I’m not talking about internally manufactured lore—no matter how good the Cap’n Crunch Extended Universe is. No, the cereals whose legacies will endure the eventual expiration of every earthly trademark will be the ones who moved people. The cereals that collided with culture without significant marketing spin.

I’m talkin’ Oreo O’s, which endured an enigmatic purgatory of legalese by seeking refuge in South Korea.

I’m talkin’ Honeycomb, whose formula change revealed that not only do people not want all-natural flavoring in classic cereals, but they don’t want it so hard that they’ll rally with the vitriol of a bloodlusted Crazy Craving.

And I’m talkin’ Blueberry Muffin Tops, a cereal that launched an outlandish, fan-driven convention spectacle. At that time, Blueberry Muffin Tops was at the cult-favorite cusp between its 2004 introduction and 2016ish disappearance. Back then, before it was bought out by Post, Malt-O-Meal had a much harsher (thought largely unfounded) reputation for selling cheap cereal bootlegs in bulk without a granule of originality. But Blueberry Muffin Tops was a breath of freshly Ziploc’d air. We’re spoiled for choice now, but years ago a craving for blueberry breakfast cereals forced a choice between Blueberry Mini-Wheats (boring), waiting ’til October for Boo Berry (boo-ring), and Post’s Blueberry Morning—which, to be fair, is pretty great, but without word-of-mouth recommendation it just looks like another boring ‘healthy’ cereal.

Blueberry Muffin Tops solved that crisis with its unrestrained, shameless sugary goodness. And while it was discontinued due to a lack of consumer demand, BMT’s everlasting appeal has resurged to the point that Malt-O-Meal, no doubt buoyed by Post’s greater capacity for potential failure, is rebirthing them as Blueberry Muffin Toasters, most likely to make them gel with their larger line of Toast Crunch taste-alikes, but also hopefully because M-O-M doesn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea about bringing back low-rise jeans.

May they be lowered to the deepest drop-crotch of hell.

But do Blueberry Muffin Toasters stack up all the way to the Tops? Malt-O-Meal assured me this cereal uses the O.G. recipe, but there’s one problem: I can’t remember exactly what Blueberry Muffin Tops tasted like. In truth, the finer points of any cereal I ate before launching this catalogue of crunch in 2015 tend to melt into the misty recesses of my poor memory. I mean, I can hardly remember where I left my keys in the morning—let alone why I thought it was a good idea to put them in the pantry—so forgive me if I can’t confirm that this is a 1:1 Blueberry Muffin Tops replica.

Luckily, it doesn’t matter too much, because Blueberry Muffin Toasters are good. They manage to cut through the sameness of many blueberry cereals by presenting an unabashedly candied approach that’s nevertheless permeated by subtle ribbons of jellied tartness. For unlike Blueberry Eggo Cereal, which flanked blueberry with maple and a thick base to disrupt the cerulean status quo, Blueberry Muffin Toasters present a sweet ‘n’ syrupy blueberry compote that needs no supplement. Though, there is an additional, ethereal butteriness that hovers over every bite like any cartoon character after inhaling wandering wisps of this stuff through an open kitchen window.

These gentle butter pats are pretty much the only thing that screams “muffin” about Blueberry Muffin Toasters, which isn’t an awful thing considering the beauty of simplicity here, but I do think a girthier and earthier base taste would go a long way toward propping up the intense blueberry sweetness with a little tempering wheat-ness.

For despite how delicious Blueberry Muffin Toasters are, their sugar content is a little too adrenaline-addling to eat in large bulk without feeling like your own intestinal stuffin’ is gonna implode. Which, again, isn’t a bad thing if you either have a titanium gut or common sense enough to stop (I’m 0 for 2 here, but at least I have my…uh…I’ll get back to you on that one).

As is customary with cereals coated in an alpine avalanche of flavor dust, milk is a solid way to add liquid reinforcement, washing the excess off the pieces while irrigating delicious, pale indigo muffin milk throughout the bowl to be enjoyed later (can you milk a muffin? that feels illegal). Granted, Blueberry Muffin Toasters are equally delicious when eaten by the dry handful, for the sake of your toenails and trousers, milk makes things a little tidier. Seriously: I’ve had fresh-off-the-beach sandals that were spewed with less detritus.

This is a glorious return to form for a cereal that honestly never should’ve gone away. But I’m willing to let blueberry bygones be gone within a week or two, as I ignorantly and blissfully munch Blueberry Muffin Toasters with the intensity of a Men in Black memory eraser. Kudos to Malt-O-Meal for not only listening to fans, but also not serving up a forgettable facsimile of the original. With a bag this large, you’ll no-doubt get your money’s worth here, even if the name change implies they put the muffin bottoms back into the mix, too.

Like they always say, what’s old is Newman again.

The Bowl: Malt-O-Meal Blueberry Muffin Toasters

The Breakdown: Almost certainly as good as you remember, Blueberry Muffin Toasters have solidified their “modern legend” status with a unique mix of butter and buffed-up faux-blueberry jam. Though I might’ve liked to taste a little more muffin, a dollop of margarine’s better than nothin’.

The Bottom Line: 9.5 relentless sand particles out of 10