Anybody else got weird, yet oh-so-satisfying ways to eat food? And I don’t mean any particular combination of foods—though I will proudly die on the Pringles with Ketchup Hill, as it’s where my family plot will be.

No, I’m talking unconventional approaches to the physical act of eating something. Sure, there are classics, like unscrewing and licking an Oreo clean or consuming Snickers with a fork & knife. And there are more disturbing ones, like those who eat kiwis with the fuzzy flesh on, or the worryingly confident breed of Fun Dip consumer who eats the sticks totally unadorned.

Personally, I like to eat completely around the cookie part of a Twix to save it for last, consume a handful of popcorn like an apple, and more-than-occasionally swallow pasta noodles whole for the unique tracheal imprint left by each respective shape. Oh, and I used to unknowingly eat Reese’s Cups with the paper still on until an embarrassingly mature age.

Pop-Tarts are far from immune from this sort of nuanced noshing. While my formerly frowned-upon habit of freezing toaster pastries has now been largely normalized (you’re welcome), I still know many who will nibble around the crust before handling the sweet meat of the matter. This may be less barbaric (albeit less creative) than eating the insides before the crust, but either way these folks are depriving themselves of the blessed balance struck at the baked-in slip fault between frosting and crisped crust.

No, now that I’ve eaten Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites, I believe there is a better way: one that may be difficult to scale up to a regular Pop-Tart, but which ought to nevertheless cleave your breakfast time traditions in twain.

It’s simple: something about the way Pop-Tarts Bites are made leaves behind a Death Starry mortal weakness: the two sandwiching halves of any given Bite can be easily split by softly sinking your front teeth into its floured seam.

However, it’s critical that you initiate said bisection with the bottom of the Bite facing you. Why?

That’s why.

Yes, for some reason all of the mocha mud inside a Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart Bite is wholly painted on the backside of its dinky pastry vehicle’s frosted top. Which means that once you’ve finished the fair-to-middling, cocoa-powdered bottom crust, you can plunk the other half (filling side down) onto your tongue and savor it like the world’s richest hallucinogen.

Now this technique may seem like hypocrisy, as I earlier wrote of the sacred Pop-Tartian bond between crust and filling, but putting that next to the default state of Pop-Tarts Bite consumption is like comparing apples to orange Starburst. For me, there used to be no natural way to eat a Pop-Tart Bite in more than a single Bite, thus negating any sort of presumed crust–center juxtaposition. Not to say that Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites are bad when enjoyed in-tact—quite the contrary. I could probably eat an entire pouch in a single bite, barcode and all. Just as its predecessor flavors were, Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites are very much a scale replica of real Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tarts—well, except for the inexplicable addition of a -y to its name. perhaps this part-time vowel is meant to stand for you, the player of this fudgy log splitting simulator.

Anyway, the cocoa crust is smattered with subtly grounding cocoa powder biscuitiness, while the filling glistens with buttery milk chocolate that could easily pass as gelatinous fudge.

This tastiness is what forced me to explore any more methodical way to eat Pop-Tarts Bites that would stop me from choking/chungus-ing down these suckers ’til the police place me under cardiac arrest. I don’t really know what I’m getting at by this point in the review, but the point stands that no matter how you choose to eat Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites, as long as you love chocolate, fudge, and/or Pop-Tarts, these will be worth your money. I only wish the boxes had more than five packets, so I could easily store one in my glove, shoe, hot, mystery, moving, empty cereal, and safety deposit boxes. Maybe chuck a couple dozen more Bites into each pouch while you’re at it, eh?

Because now I just want to make a leaning tower of fudge-bottomed Top-Tarts.

The Bowl: Chocolatey Fudge Pop-Tarts Bites

The Breakdown: Outside of serving size (which may be a blessing in disguise) it’s tough to find anything truly bad to say about this adaptation of a personal childhood favorite Pop-Tart. It tastes just like the real thing and breaks more cleanly in half, allowing every Oreo licker in the world to dive ‘bud first into a shaved-off fudge crown.

The Bottom Line: 9.5  catsup-fortified mausoleums out of 10