Senioritis is real.

In my fourth year at the fancy-pants math & science high school I went to—which I mention not as a brag, for it was essentially just a safe haven for nerds who’d get be-swirlied and de-lunch-moneyed otherwise—my annual research group fell so far from our former graces. Where once we studied the effects of atmospheric conditions on things like coffee acidity and laser attenuation, we ended our esteemed tenure like a squeaking mouse fart in the night, deciding instead to determine the effect of a potato’s surface area on its rate of osmosis….a question so obvious that a root vegetable hooked to a battery could probably figure it out.

Naturally, our teacher admonished us but ultimately let us get away with it, because once you’re mentally checked out with the tantalizing liberation of college on the horizon, it would take a menacing cyborg library cop to check us back in. And luckily, our little geek asylum wasn’t that well funded.

Why do I bring this up? Because “Berry” is now the fourth member to join the Cheerios Oat Crunch family of cereals, an esteemed breakfast dynasty that I’ve no-doubt given more consistently positive feedback than any other cereal line reviewed on this site. Between the tongue-hugging warmth of Cinnamon Oat Crunch, the golden perfection of Oats ‘N Honey (well, other than that imperfectly stylized ‘N), and the nutty nuance of Almond Oat Crunch, Cheerios G.O.A.T. Crunch has truly done no wrong…

…and now we have Berry.

I think you can see where I’m going with this.

Let me be clear: Cheerios Berry Oat Crunch is not a bad cereal. In fact, unless they dropped like, an Oven-Roasted Sewage variety, I feel like it’s probably impossible for an Oat Crunch to actually be bad. And that’s because, independent of the flavor, the texture of Cheerios Oat Crunch cereals presents such a sublime exercise in restrained yet sophisticated tactile appeal that Berry Oat Crunch already provides a worthwhile masticatory experience from the very first bite. There’s just something so pleasant about the crispety–crunchety mouthfeel that it’s like a fidget toy for your tongue. If I could somehow get that same gravelly oaten sensory satisfaction on every inch of my body, I’d probably be like those mice that pushes the dopamine button ’til it dies.

But with that borderline licentious compliment out of the way, let’s get to the flavor. Again, the mixed berry General Mills bakes into each O and loosely strewn oat is good—it just doesn’t mesh with the base toasted oatiness as naturally as the likewise “sweetly browned” Cinnamon, Honey, and Almond did before it. The bright pops of raspberry (and to a much lesser extent, blueberry and strawberry) kind of conflicts with the earthiness beneath it. Granted, I don’t think this fruit flavor tastes overtly artificial or anything, but it is potently and ambrosially aromatic in a way that makes it harder to really savor the raw roasted goodness that makes an Oat Crunch an Oat Crunch.

It also doesn’t help that—and I recognize that this is a purely personal (lack of) preference—I just really don’t like raspberry flavor that much. It’s a little too sharp and tart, and I would have much rather had strawberry and blueberry take the lead here. But unfortunately, those two end up playing second banana to Big Razz.

And don’t even get me started on the lack of banana!

I’ll give Berry Oat Crunch this: it performs a lot better in milk. The raspberry domination may not be fully diluted, but milk adds welcome creamy relief to the puckering raspberry bite, while also softening the crunch in just the right way to make the whole bowl taste like multi-berry pie filling. I definitely enjoyed this, though I still couldn’t help but wish I’d bought Oats ‘N Honey instead.

Maybe it’s rude to call it Oat Crunch’s “Senioritis Special,” because I’ll definitely still finish the box, but Berry simply doesn’t hit the same cosmic highs as its predecessors, and that’s the bottom line. Hopefully General Mills will learn from this and instead play to the Oat Crunch line’s strengths for future iterations. Between maple, caramel, toffee, or even peanut butter, I feel like there’s no shortage of golden-brown directions this stuff could go in.

After all, perhaps this senior year is just meant to be Cheerios Oat Crunch’s last stop before going to college and really blowing our minds.

The Bowl: Cheerios Oat Crunch – Berry

The Breakdown: Big juicy raspberries and delicately toasted oats just don’t play together as nicely as honey or cinnamon, but don’t check out of this one completely, especially with milk—much like a so-so sequel, you might need to taste this one to understand where the franchise goes next.

The Bottom Line: 6.5 tact-oral odysseys out of 10