French Toast Crunch is a rare breed in the winding history of cereal, and its storyline seems more fitting for a series of Christopher Nolan movies than for a box of sweetened corn pieces.

Upon its introduction in 1995, French Toast Crunch was a hero. Beloved by children, adults, seniors, dogs, and sea urchins (probably) alike for its unique maple flavor, French Toast Crunch was something worth writing about in your Trapper Keeper.

But apparently it was only the hero we deserved, not the one we needed. So it disappeared in 2006. And yet, we pined for it. It wasn’t long before French Toast Crunch earned perfect attendance on all of Buzzfeed’s annoying ’90s nostalgia lists (Buzzfeed’s Top 11 Bread-Shaped Objects That We Wish Would Make a Comeback!).

But good ol’ FTC wasn’t gone for good. It was simply in exile. Canadian exile. Yes, for the inquisitive, the well-travelled, and the desperate, Croque Pan Doré, as it’s called in the Great White North (French French Toast Crunch. French-ception.), was still around, just in hibernation.

But, of course, to get it to the U.S., you needed to be prepared to shell out the big bucks; with those shipping rates, you’d think the little golden bread pieces were glazed with, you know, real gold. Or maybe Unobtanium.

But as ’90s nostalgia peaked in late 2014, the ember of hope all FTC fans failed to let extinguish roared to life in the form of a familiar red box: French Toast Crunch was officially coming back!

So here I stand today with my Starter jacket and Zubaz on, my tips freshly frosted (not really, but picture it mentally), and a heaping bowl of maple-y awesomeness in front of me. I know this review is half a year late, but let’s see if FTC really is back like Backstreet.

The adorable little pieces of toast have a blinding golden sheen and slightly darker “crust.” Little brown specks of sugar liberally dot each one, as if the ghosts of Wendell, Bob, and Quello (rest in peace, boys. Those cannibalistic squares will never replace you in my heart) lovingly dusted them with their ethereal magic in the night time.

The tantalizing, addictive scent of the squares is like a warm hug from Mrs. Buttersworth. The familiar smell of syrup is noticeable even from far away.

The crunch factor here is not too airy, not too roof-of-mouth-destroying; if there were a modern day reimagining of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, she would say it’s “juuuust right.”

And the taste? If I were to describe it out loud, I would say, “Ish frlly drleshus,” because I don’t think I can stop munching this stuff long enough to finish chewing. Closer to a crunchy pancake then actual French toast, the maple flavor dominates the cinnamon one. It’s a rich glaze of artificial, sticky syrup taste with a finish and aftertaste that echoes the darker, amber sweetness of the real thing.

Little punches of cinnamon sugar and corn do peep through once in awhile, making the overall experience like a delightful hybrid of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Waffle Crisp (yep, this other maple cereal still exists, too. Eggo cereal, on the other hand, not so much).

The homestyle quality of maple flavoring is what keeps bringing me back, and the richness of the end milk FTC leaves behind is second to none. The white milk becomes a golden pool dusted with flecks of cinnamon that tastes like a blended, liquefied Belgian waffle.

Is it as good as it was before? I don’t feel qualified to say, as nostalgia always has a way of making things from the past seem sweeter, both literally and figuratively. But I can still conclusively state that today’s FTC is still really good.

Oh, and with more maple syrup poured on top? You’ll feel creative, sugar-rushed and slap-happy as you try something delicious and slightly stupid. Just like you did when you were a kid.

And, in the end, that’s the real power of French Toast Crunch: the power of childlike bliss.

The Bowl: French Toast Crunch

The Breakdown: Maple, cinnamon, and brown sugar make an addictive and crunchy trifecta, but nostalgia is the most powerful flavor of all.

The Bottom Line: 10 happy Saturday mornings spent with cereal, cartoons, and a Game Boy out of 10