Ever play Mario Kart? From Toadette to Bowser and every Birdo in between, the characters have three broad weight classes: light, medium, and heavy. Modern Chex cereals follow a very similar model, with each choosing to use a rice, corn, or wheat base, respectively.

Now I’m not saying that Donkey Kong would ever trade bananas for Wheat Chex, nor that there should to be a Chex Quest Kart in which Fred Chexter and various Flemoids do sick drifts through the Caverns of Bazoik—but it is very important that the respective density of each Chex variety complements the flavor glazed upon it.

For example, Blueberry Chex‘s rice base makes for great high-velocity munching, but the vaporous nature of the grain doesn’t ideally suit the equal subtleties of blueberry flavoring. That’s why when Peanut Butter Chex was announced with a Corn Chex base, I was excited to get my cob-nobbing mitts on a box. General Mills was kind enough to send me one, so it’s time to butter up and eat these babies rotary style.

(Those heathens who prefer to eat corn on the cob “typewriter” style are free to try and change my mind in the comments.)

You know, I called them ‘babies,’ but perhaps a better pet name for Peanut Butter Chex would be ‘puppies.’

Why? Because this is the closest we may ever get to a Muddy Buddies (colloquially known as Puppy Chow) Cereal. Though they may lack a chocolate kicker, these toasted corn squares present a delectable blend of dry-roasted peanut butter flavor, paired with a simple sweetness that is a welcome accent to the PB, rather than an overbearing intensifier. For the sphere of hyper-sweet peanut butter cereals is well populated, and those seeking something more realistically oily and well-legumed than an additive-rich store-brand nut butter are bound to be happy with this one.

As perhaps the most innately salty of the Chex bases, Corn Chex is a great decision here. While I wouldn’t have minded some wheaty variety to replicate the crunchy peanut butter sandwich experience, corn nevertheless presents a hearty, lasting base that allows each spoonful of natural PB goodness to finish its savory-sweet performance before the uvular curtain call.

Milk only makes things better, echoing the pillowy and less-parching texture of Muddy Buddies without going soggy like rice steeped in soy sauce.

At the same time, milk provides the perfect chance for some cereal mixology, as the creamy synthesis of peanut butter and just about any other flavor is bound to work well. Try Crunch Berries for a postmodern tropical PB&J. Try Banana Creme Frosted Flakes for the best Elvis Cereal since Elvis Cereal. Or do what I did and use Mega Stuf Oreo O’s to make a Fluffernutter Puppy Chow Cereal worthy of gluing a king’s mouth shut.

Sweet Chex varieties are rarely bad, and that’s because they are reliably simple in their appeal. Peanut Butter Chex is another great example of how not trying to do too much with a cereal ultimately makes for a breakfast you can turn to in your darkest hours or brightest dawns. If there’s one drawback to this, it’s that—like many PB cereals—Peanut Butter Chex can grow too redundant in its 100% nut-focused taste, but unless you’re going for a cereal marathon (26.2 bowls in a sitting), you’re unlikely to tire of this one—especially if you’ve got mix-ins.

And hey: you can even dunk your kid’s rejected sandwich crusts in the endmilk!

The Bowl: Peanut Butter Chex Cereal

The Breakdown: Unless you have a nut allergy, it’s hard to dislike a cereal that’s succinct with its sweet ‘n’ kinda-salty appeal. It’s sort of like Muddy Buddies Lite, or the top cookie of a Do-Si-Do, but whatever you call Peanut Butter Chex, if it’s calling out to you, it’s worth picking up.

The Bottom Line: 9 tracheal encores out of 10