Let’s talk turkey. Or bunnies, to be seasonally appropriate.

When you’re reviewing breakfast fare, a scale is necessary. I won’t feign presumptions on how those who write about lesser foodstuffs manage to assign numerical ratings. What constitutes a perfect 10 in, say, pizza? Are there dual systems for thin crust and deep dish? Such are the fodder phantasms that haunt my countertop in the night.

Comparatively, then, I’m grateful for pantry paragons that act as polestars. We know that no cereal on the market today can, however mighty, topple Cracklin’ Oat Bran from its lofty position—even if matched by other exceptional staples. But it’s hard to compare everything against the crème de la crunch. Once in a while, we need to be reminded that superb bowls (heyoo!) exist only in light of normal, unremarkable cereal. We grade Gaussian around these parts, folks, no matter how much one may love log.

So Annie’s released a new cereal. Sort of. Remember Annie’s Homegrown? They make feel-good versions of classic favorites, like organic boxed mac and cheese, organic graham crackers, and organic fruit gummies, all in the shape of their lagomorph mascot. It’s a cute concept, often with a nightmare-conjuring price tag. This one, for instance, runs over $4 USD at my local Walmart for a relatively dinky box.

Naturally, one assumes that quality costs more. And although that hasn’t been the case historically, hare hops spring eternal.

This is only a new cereal in the most technical sense. Annie’s has offered a cocoa flavor for some time. There’s no fathoming what machinations may have led to softening that profile with vanilla and honey. I doubt it was outright demand. Who complains that something is too chocolatey? This isn’t rhetorical; people are legit concerned about theobromine poisoning. In any event, we may as well jump in and see what the bunnies are brewing.

This freshly-opened bag brought up memories of my first childhood exposure to Cocoa Krispies. Something about the vanilla/cocoa mashup generates that unique aroma, perhaps owing to the underlying delicate sweetness of vanilla that replaces an erstwhile oily note from the cocoa butter of full-bore chocolate. Maybe Annie finally hit on the right formula to up her brand quality. One can’t really go wrong with cocoa, vanilla, or honey, after all.

And yet here we are. This stuff is the very definition of dull. Like the epic fail of Lucio Ohs, the only flavor profile discernable here is unadulterated sweet. Neither is it the warm, honey-derived, floral sort of sweet you’d expect from Cheerios or HBOats. It’s just sugar. Individually, the different bunny bits don’t live up to their coloring. Much like Froot Loops, there is only a single, monotonous note. There is almost no cocoa of which to speak, which would add a fair amount of depth.

With enough strain that I had to ice my tongue afterward, a weak hint of vanilla comes through. I think. That may just be my imagination playing off the milk’s creamy accommodation. And despite a size and complexity of texture comparable to more mainstream cereals, the bunnies do not hold up to liquid. On a softness scale of oatmeal to Cap’n Crunch, Friends Bunnies (by esquilax, that’s an awkward name to type!) are in the same lane as Life.

But this is not a bad cereal. All told, there’s not much to compliment or complain about here. Artificial health halo aside (Annie’s Friends Bunnies is/are stocked with the other “alternative” cereals like Kashi, but have more sugar per serving than Lucky Charms), this delivers on its promise of being a sweet, middle-of-the-road option for people who exclusively consume rabbit-shaped treats. While not for the hardcore cereal fan, I could see these appealing to fussy kids or the kind of folks who enjoy plain marshmallows. In that way, Annie’s Homegrown gives us an unexpected gift: the perfect norming metric. This is a game-defining experience. Friends Bunnies Cocoa, Honey, & Vanilla is now my Planck’s constant.

The Bowl: Annie’s Homegrown Organic Friends Bunnies Cocoa, Honey, & Vanilla

The Breakdown: The very line that demarcates the middle of the road, these puffed Pikas are as basic as it gets, but undeserving of the price point.

The Bottom Line: 5 bunnies unfriended out of 10