In 2020 we’re staying honest with those we love, so I’m gonna come right out and say it:

Honey Bunches of Oats, how in your infinite wisdom have you made the most tearable cereal bags in the breakfast aisle?

There are already enough things in this world that I have trouble pulling apart without blunder nor bother: perforated notebook paper, most pieces of mail, command strips off a wall. My delicious cereal shouldn’t fissure and fizzle out cereal spillage at a moment’s notice.

This is difficult to cope with, especially since Honey Bunches of Oats is a) built on a near spiritual trinity of corn flakes, frosted corn flakes and granola bunches, but this triple blessing is also b) very consistent at producing flavorful varietals.

(We don’t talk about the less savory ‘Zilla ’98s of the franchise.)

Yet HBoO’s latest release—whose bag was torn asunder by inescapable fate—seems, to me, to be its ostensibly least original idea in recent memory (with one notably irrelevant example). Simply culling one third of the cereal, coating it with sticky sauce, and shoving it back in the mix? As someone who values a good novelty cereal, from the start I’m skeptical. Will this be the equivalent of a bubbly Disney remake that’s so saccharine it crashes lifelessly?

At least give us some crudely handsome CGI bunches at that point!

Before we get to the flakes, can we talk about that box again? …”with bunches you love.” Not the bunches I love? I need to know what you’ve done with the bunches.

I can succinctly say that the bunches in Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats are unfrosted, run-of-the-non-general-mill Honey Bunch. I agree that frosting granola sounds vulgar in theory, but if we can mummify animal crackers in the stuff, melt it down and drizzle it onto our Baked Oat Bites, I’d love it for its sheer historic significance.

Because without any wacky flavored bunches—as would be tradition—Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats feels like a half-baked bite of an idea, rather than enough to cater an unforgettable Buncheon. The flakes, even the frosted ones, have simply never been the draw of Honey Bunches of Oats. You can picture the corn flakes as moons, revolving around frosted flakes that in turn orbit heavenly oat bodies.

Instead, we have a frankly syrupy cereal that’s comparable in overall flavor to Honey Nut Frosted Flakes. Although, where Tony’s sweet nectar glazes honey onto sugar, the few honey notes present in Frosted Honey Bunches had to fight to get to your taste buds, as it takes a lot of floral fuel to reach escape velocity past clouds of caked-on sugar.

Subtly works wonders for regular Honey Bunches varieties, so at times, this can feel overwhelmingly like bee treacle, for HBoO fans with tongues conditioned on the original recipe may be in for a cloying new normal.

Unless that’s what you’re into! Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats are still tasty to eat dry, and you get used to the sweetness quickly. And once you pour milk over it, the difference becomes even slimmer. The sugar-coating on Honey Bunches flakes is far from painted on. Within a minute, you’ll be left with a normal—well, slightly soggier, but I like ’em that way— bowl of Honey-Roasted Honey Bunches of Oats that also just happens to have tastier sweet-cream endmilk. That’s like a preorder bonus!

Much like Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows, Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats doesn’t really feel like the most necessary cereal out there. But unlike Frosted Flakes with Marshmallows, I like bunches a bunch more than marbits. I feel this is a step down from other cool Funky Bunches that departed too soon. Especially, you know, Just Bunches.

I’m rooting for you, Honey Bunches of Oats, since we’ve always been cool. But would it really be too tough to find a happy middle ground between Just Sugar and Just Syrup’d Swine?

The Bowl: Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats

The Breakdown: To quote the eminent Reviewbrah, “It is what it is, you know.” It’s not too far from a not-so-hypothetical Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes with granola. And since it was kind of forgettable the first time, don’t expect me to mention Frosted Honey Bunches of Oats in my will.

The Bottom Line: 6 mangled bags of “Just Sixes” out of 10