Oh ho ho, how whimsical: it seems there was a simple misunderstanding here. Quite humorous, Kellogg’s, all things considered. For years we cereal diehards have been asking for “two-in-one cereals” to return, given the iron and Nintendium-clad nostalgic reputations of Nerds Cereal and the Nintendo Cereal System. There’s just something so symbolically powerful about two individually sealed bags of different flavored cereal bits snuggling up in the same box like snakes in a peanut brittle can.

But the funny folks at Kellogg’s must have misinterpreted that as a request for two cereals in the same bag. An understandable semantic switcheroo, true, but the separate bags thing is kind of a dealbreaker. Well, that and the part about wanting new cereal flavors.

I’m sure there’s someone out there whose whole body is positively quivering with excitement about a convenient cereal Mashup of Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops specifically, but that person isn’t me—and I’m someone that loves mixing different cereals on my own accord. For reasons that will soon be made even clearer, this isn’t exactly cereal mixology’s power couple. They may be Kellogg’s two most iconic breakfast flagships, but Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops are famous because their familiar and universally lovable flavorings stand alone and taste consistent, in contrast to some of Kellogg’s more divisive, but in-bowl experiment-friendly brands like Krave or Raisin Bran (yes, I said it: GORP is practically the patron saint of intersecting snacks).

Because even if we put aside the obvious question—why wouldn’t I just buy one box of each Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops so I can mix them at my own personal ideal ratio?—there’s plenty of taste bud trouble here in Tony and Sam’s paradise.

I’m probably gonna ruffle some whiskers here, but I feel Frosted Flakes are a tad overrated. Yes, they are good. Because yes, they are sweet. So simply sweet that it could be considered one of the purest expressions of cereal as an archetypical sugary breakfast product, free from complexity and pretense. But such simplicity only works when Frosted Flakes are allowed to remain untainted by foreign cereal components. That’s when one is able to appreciate Frosted Flakes’ more subtle appeals—the golden pops of sweet corn and tongue-kissing caramelized glaze.

But you throw a big personality like Froot Loops into the mix? Now all I’m tasting is sweeter, less Frooty Froot Loops. The tropical ambiguity that is Froot Loops is just so potent that even in this roughly 50:50 FF:FL mix, Tony’s Flakes are GRRR-ossly outclassed. They only serve to dilute the faux fruity goodness, cutting it with a hollow saccharine substitute.

And that’s not even taking textural concerns into account. Whereas eating Kellogg’s Mashups dry is an adequate, albeit mouth-drying, experience, milk introduces a new struggle: substantially different soggification rates. Frosted Flakes go all sopped-up and limp within mere minutes, leaving behind Loops that are uncomfortably wearing damp membranes of corn. This is interesting in some depraved sense, as this process “locks in” more milk to each spoonful, but the mouthfeel of a cold sugar porridge is still a bit much. By the end of the bowl you’ll have a frightening swirl of soggy earthen and rainbow colors like in the photo above.

In the end, the inaugural Kellogg’s Mashup is more like a “Belongs in the Trash-up.” If Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops is a combo you already enjoy, you probably have a preferred way of mixing and eating it. I doubt this lame-tasting repackaging will win the pairing many new fans, and the best thing I think could come from this product as a whole is a new Mashup that learns from this one’s follies. Give me Chocolate Peanut Butter Pops and Banana Raisin Bran. Give me a reanimated JIF PB&J Cereal cozied up with Strawberry Crunch Krave. Just give me something more than shallow sugar.

Well, maybe a Fluffernutter mix would be the exception to the rule.

The Bowl: Kellogg’s Mashups Frosted Flakes + Froot Loops

The Breakdown: Sugar-watered-down Froot Loops with poorly contrasting textures gets a big no from me. By taking the fun out of mixing cereals, this half-note concept could only be redeemed through the hard work of its descendants.

The Bottom Line: 2.5 anointed raisins out of 10

(Quick Nutrition Facts: 160 calories, 15 grams of sugar, 2 grams of fiber, & 2 grams of protein per 1¼ cup serving)

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