Forget everything Schoolhouse Rock taught you: knowledge clearly isn’t power…plants are! And bills don’t spend their time anthropomorphically singing on the steps of the Capital Building, either, but that’s a misconception for another time.

Alright, I probably shouldn’t mock knowledge. After all, I am in college so that I can be learnin’ me them knowledges. But with all the different powerful plants in Vanilla Pepita—the newest gluten free cereal from Kashi—I can fill any gaps in my education with pepitas, red beans, pea crisps, and sorghum.

Hear that, professor? Who needs degrees when you can have peas?

I pour out a bowl of this dense cereal. The countless clusters vary in size from “small” to “meteorite large enough to exterminate all life in continental North America.” Looking at them together, they form a beige I Spy puzzle of different plant seeds, bits, and giblets that are difficult to tell apart.

But the name of each piece ends up being irrelevant, because when I crunch into a heaping cluster, their flavors all meld into one. The clusters have a pleasant, crumbly texture, while their taste is a lot like sweet popcorn.

Even though popcorn wasn’t invited to this pepita fiesta, that’s still the dominant sensation. Fluffy, slightly buttery, and with a syrupy vanilla sugar glaze: this is what I’d imagine “vanilla cupcake popcorn” is like. And hey, apparently that’s already a thing!

But once I chew for awhile, the sweetness fades into a strong, seedy aftertaste. No, not seedy like that guy who insists on selling you “farm fresh goat’s milk” from his rickety stand next to the bowling alley; I mean seedy like lightly toasted sunflower seed kernels. “Vanilla sunflower kernels” is a bizarre flavor pairing, and while I don’t exactly enjoy it, it’s probably perfect for a cowboy’s birthday party.

Oh, and remember when I said this cereal could fill the gaps in my education? Well the tiny little bits are pretty good at filling the gaps in my teeth, too. If you’re preparing for a long roadtrip and need to store a snack for later, this isn’t so bad, but if you’re not a gross human being like me, be sure to have floss on hand.

But that’s when it’s eaten dry. I add some milk (no, not seedy goat milk: vanilla almond milk seemed to be a thematically appropriate pairing), and most of my gripes with Vanilla Pepita disappear. No more aftertaste: just more vanilla. No more junked up teeth: just delightfully milk-soaked, crispy clusters.

So while nothing about its flavor is spectacular, I’d say this cereal is worth a try. It’s kind of like a healthier Rice Krispies Treats cereal.

If you can remember that cereal’s sugary rice clusters—all glued together with a vanilla and marshmallowy goo—just tone down the sweetness a little bit, call in Orville Redenbacher for reinforcements, and you’ve got Vanilla Pepita.

Great, now I’m imagining an alternate future in which an elderly Snap, Crackle, and Pop retire to start their own popcorn farm.

I’m really gonna have a hard time explaining that last sentence to my therapist someday.

The Bowl: Kashi GoLean Clusters Vanilla Pepita

The Breakdown: Has a pleasant vanilla popcorn taste that works even better with vanilla milk. But like any vanilla ice cream, this won’t be blowing anyone’s mind, flavor-wise (Kashi must be saving that for “Death By Triple Chocolate Fudge Moose Tracks Pepita Crunch”).

The Bottom Line: 8 rootin’ tootin’ birthday parties out of 10