There is a new cereal dichotomy blooming before our very tongues. If it comes to civil war, whose side will you be on?

The monolithic masses of the Kellogg’s Krusaders, their defenses made impenetrable and especially unpalatable by pounds of cushiony, bland corn ‘n’ sugar rings?

Or the silent-but-growing cabal of crunchily dusted Powdered Paladins, whose cereals are equally sweet, but, you know, actually good? 

Yeah, the choice is pretty obvious: with the Economically Chintzy Empire, we get Baby Sharks and celebratory man-birds. Neither is fit for battle—unless Kellogg’s brings in a Caticorn that’s actually equine in stature—against the trustiest, dustiest and most delectable division led by Powdered Donettes Cereal, with Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch and Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios as its right- and left-hand confidants. Honestly: if you did a cross-comparison between Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch and Kellogg’s Elf on the Shelf Sugar Cookie Cereal, you’d find a certain starry sugar-corn Rehash in the Trash, where it so boldly and brashly deserves to be.

I also know that overly flavor-powdered cereals can be divisive, as revealed by the internet’s violently split opinion on Frosted G.O.A.T.nettes—err, I mean Donettes, of course. So will this camp be pleased or feel sucker-punched by Twinkies Cereal, the latest dusted cake-crop in Hostess’ Cereal line? The answer is only a bowlful of crème larvae away:

I’m pretty sure I’ve made every joke in the biology textbook about how goofy these Twinklets look, from exhibitionist Cheetos Puffs to some sort of packaging cashews, so it’s worth skipping to the meat of these cupbowlcakes (not to be confused with urinal cakes). In short, if you didn’t like Powdered Donettes Cereal, you’re not going to like Twinkies Cereal either.

Through and through, Hostess Twinkies Cereal is a custardy cousin to those eggshell rings. Where the latter smaller small-cakes bore a boundless blizzard of nuanced confectioner’s sugar flavor, Twinkies Cereal attempts to bridge the gap between Donettes’ drifts of creamy–dreamy sugar and Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch’s buttery flurries. In that sense, Twinkies Cereal is kind of like eating yellow snow—you know, the snow that’s had a few margarine pats and egg yolks cracked into it?

That’s not to say any of these pleasant particulars hit the palate as strongly as Twinkies Cereal’s raw sugar dressing, but beneath such subtleties I was able to detect even stranger flavor notes that both slow cereal chewers and The Queen’s Royal Taste Tester alike might enjoy. See, something about the swirly sweetness of yellow cake and egginess—plus a little vanilla for good measure—made me think of Nilla Wafers and…lemon bars?

I know it sounds unlikely, but there are definitely thin ribbons of county fair lemonade flowing beneath Twinkies Cereal’s sucrose’d shores. Or maybe Twinkie the Kid grew into the kind of Twinkie the Croix who demands fractions of fruit essence in everything he consumes.

Sadly, many of those bubblier hints of multilayered flavor don’t survive milk’s Great Pasteurized Filter. This is where I believe Powdered Donettes, and likely Twinkies Cereal as a consequence, lose many cereal eaters. Yes, both Hostess cereals are more enjoyable dry, due to the higher “re-munch value” you get from enjoying the daintier intricacies of each flavor. And in my opinion, they both still make better sweet milky cereals than the likes of P**ps Cereal (go ahead: buy a vowel), but I can understand where some are put off by the mutually estranging textures produced by milked Twinkies: the pieces get a little slimier, while the milk gets thicker and richer—like a middleweight class between whole milk and half & half. But if you can get past this uneven palate playground, even the dairiest bowl of Twinkies Cereal tastes more like a Tubby-pleasing custard than the least airy bowl of what I’m now calling Cheeps Cereal.

Overall, I’m pleased but a bit perplexed by Twinkies Cereal. Up to this point, I’ve considered Powdered Donettes to be my favorite cereal of 2019—but if Twinkies Cereal is the same thing with more taste depth, why doesn’t it feel like my new #1? It could be how hyped-up Twinkies Cereal has become in the months leading up to its release, or it could be the stuff’s conspicuous lack of cream filling—though anything short of what’s inside Fillows would probably just make Twinkies Cereal taste Donettier. Ultimately, I just think Donettes broke more ground and hooked itself to me like a ring around my heart that won’t dissolve unless I defeat the Pillar Men within 30 days.

Or maybe Twinkies Cereal is my new 2019 favorite. Jeepers, I don’t know: I should wait for the cereal dust to settle in my sugar-muddled brain before choosing a favorite, but the point stands that, with a multifaceted recipe dossier of eggs, butter, vanilla and lemon, Twinkies Cereal is a good cereal for those who enjoy sugar-loaded cereals that are nevertheless curiously crafted. Just don’t blame me if it ends up lassoing and wrangling your left brain down into your breadbasket.

The Bowl: Hostess Twinkies Cereal

The Breakdown: Sinfully granulated on the surface and a Turkish delight when taken granularly, Twinkies Cereal is the charming Charmeleon breathing sweet fire between Powdered Donettes Charmander and Sugar Cookie Toast Charizard. Just don’t be surprised when it’s weak against milk types.

The Bottom Line: 8.5 dishonorably discharged marshmallow bunnies out of 10