Like it or not, sometimes American breakfast aisles can be an echo chamber of crunches. For every truly novel new cereal flavor we get, there are probably half a dozen or more slight refractions of tried and true favorite flavors: chocolate, peanut butter, strawberry, a perennial genealogy of seasonal variants, and so forth. I get it, it’s low risk, reliable reward business, but sometimes I just want to meet the type of fascinating cereal that will blow my mind and taste buds right out of my head, before picking up my essential organs from the floor, returning them, and politely apologizing like a true cereal gentleman.

And often to do this, we have to look beyond our typical pantry borders.

I was first tipped off about Otees by some cereal fan FB group chatter, and two of the South African cereal brand’s flavors stuck out to me: Bubblegum and Creme Soda. I’d never think to see those flavors on U.S. shelves for like 10 years, given the creeping rate of current innovation, yet Bokomo, a company neither Cereal Time‘s Gabe Fonseca nor I could find much about outside of an old commercial, despite it being South Africa’s biggest cereal producer, has released both. I’m glad Gabe is as interested in these unique flavors as I, because after being sent all 5 Otees boxes for his collection by a kind cereal fan, Gabe generously donated some surplus cereal so we could both give our thoughts on the taste.

So without further exposé or delay, let’s get to chewing for an indefinite length of time (I’m looking at you, Bubblegum).

Original Otees Cereal

Luckily, Otees has an Original variety, so I can describe the unsullied Otees base flavor that cornerstones Original’s more eccentric relatives.

First thing to make clear: as I’ve witnessed in several other international cereals, Otees are far less sweet than your average American cereal, which is understandable given that the family tree of iconic U.S. snacks has been practically overwatered by high fructose corn syrup—heck, even I thought Rice Krispies Treats counted as “a healthy snack” until like 3rd grade.

So rather than the crystalline sugar geometry we’re used to, Otees’ hardier rings have some slightly more savory bean undertones, with a sort of hollow, lightly sweetened rice flavor filling in the gaps.

Compared to sweetly toasted Cheerios, Original Otees are more like vanilla crackers or un-honey’d graham wafers. Not bad, and pretty conforting in milk, but they’re closer competitors to U.S. gluten-free cereals than the big dogs.

The Bottom Line: 5.5 Kindergarten Krispies out of 10

Chocolate Otees Cereal

Chocolate Otees, on the other hand, quickly became my favorite of the bunch. The part-milk, part-dark cocoa glazed on and baked into each Chocotee serves as a decadent complement to the likewise more grounded base flavor.

They aren’t quite artisan cacao nibs, but these rings gain an especially fudgy appeal when milked (note: Otees do not lactate, and it’s hard to get your deposit back on a barn for them, too), especially as their hitherto dry and heavily fortified begins to soften into a crisp, half-baked brew.

So unlike Original Otees, these could totally be the dark chocolate dark horse to outshine Chocolate Cheerios—though that would be the least of its tantalizing competition.

The Bottom Line: 7.5 dark horse and Otee cow ranches out of 10

Apple Raspberry Otees Cereal

I expected nothing from Apple Raspberry Otees, yet it delivered just about everything I didn’t know I needed. Namely, the unthinkable deliciousness that is a sour cereal.

Besides being a convenient proof of concept for Post’s rumored Sour Patch Kids Cereal, these Otees have the boldest flavor of all five. It takes all of the radioactive candied fruit flavor of a certain Jolly Rancher Pop-Tart and adds enough ribbons of unrestrained artificial raspberry to get a beaver’s butt sweatin’.

That’s not to say Apple Raspberry Otees are all bite and no sugar maple bark, as the thin sugar subsides provided by the Otees base taste provides just enough anti-sour power to keep this Granny Smith from pinching your cheeks off.

Milk is a must for the same reason—this Otees variety smartly blends the proven with the puckering, making it an addictive underdog that reminds me of several ambiguously generic grocery store gummy candies.

The Bottom Line: 7 gruesome gram grams out of 10

Bubblegum Otees Cereal

Definitely the number one flavor that drew me toward this cereal collection, Bubblegum Otees look visually stunning, with their blue lightsaber coloring and marshmallows so bulky that they wouldn’t let me into the Salty Spittoon.

And the thought of a bubblegum cereal? A real bazooka blow of innovation.

These robin’s egg Otees do perform a believable, yet creatively liberal rendition of the classic bubblegum flavor we all know and probably don’t love all that much to have a whole cereal’s worth of it, but will probably give it a try for novelty’s sake.

Bubblegum Otees’ namesake taste blends artificial bubblegum’s part lab-synthesized strawberry (not that kind), part uncanny licorice, but mostly inexplicable flavor with a dash of chemically refined cotton candy.

Which, come to think of it, is just as hard to describe in any human language, at least.

But while I wavered on deciding whether this is genius or gene-spliced, I hit a marshmallow—or rather, it hit me. Imagine biting into an apple made of chalk that dissolves into styrofoam. This stuff is almost as chewy as real gum, to the point where you think it might actually be gum before it breaks apart after arduous chewing. It’s practically the cereal equivalent of the Sideshow Bob rake sequence.

This gets even stranger when the nuts-and-gum effect of neighboring loops fills your mouth with half-popped popcorn, and when milk makes those kernels soggy. I know I’m going over my word count here, but Bubblegum Otees are an experience worth trying exactly 1.5 times. A must-have for true cereal wanderlusters.

The Bottom Line: 9 points for sheer creativity out of 10

Creme Soda Otees Cereal

Well I’m glad I used my surplus verbiage on Bubblegum, because I don’t need to—or at least, would prefer not to—say too much about it.

Not my thing.

I do get that “cream/creme soda” is interpreted differently worldwide, so I wasn’t expecting the butterscotchy vanilla swill of my youth, especially after reading that South African creme soda really is Nickelodeon slime-green, and it’s well-loved drink described as “floral.”

Because darn if this stuff isn’t about as floral as Biollante’s blood. Medicinal, herbal, and kind of like an organic cleaning product, Creme Soda Otees do not get better enough with milk for me to investigate this cereal for long. If this sounds good to you, you’re free to enjoy it.

Just not within 500 feet of me.

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Overall, my shipped bags of Otees (thanks again to Gabe!) were quite the mixed bag of innovation and inflated expectations. I think all five were are worth trying if you can find a source, as the flavors provide either a legitimately refreshing treat, a memorable way to spend breakfast, or a charming insight into what tastes other parts of the world like in their cereal bowl.

Guess this means America needs to catch up with some Mountain Duos (it’s like Crispix: original on one side, Code Red on the other!)