Donot mess with bananas.

I’m convinced that, for a while now, whatever divine, potassium-based organisms control the world’s banana populations, they’re powerful enough to initiate a new, yellower world order from the safety of their unassuming peels.

How do I know this? Just look at every banana cereal of note: the winsome weirdness of Urkel Os. The untold smoothie sorcery of Minions Cereal. The nutty nuance of Banana Nut Cheerios. And the baked-in brown sugar bravery of Banana Bread Shreddies.

They hardly got any buzz, yet they nearly gave me an intoxicated buzz of ethereally fruity deliciousness.

That kind of untapped, Luke Skywalker-troubling power is what makes me both fear and salivate over Kellogg’s new Raisin Bran with Bananas. RB isn’t the Kellogg’s mainstay I’d expected to take on dried ‘nanner discs (hello, Special K), but the healthiness of dry fruit does seem like an auspicious counterpart for a cereal so famously mocked for its droll, fiberous flavor.

So like Revenge of the Nerds, the oft-lampooned Raisin Bran sun is ditching his usual bunches and letting slip a fury of bunch-powered flakes.

Be careful which heavenly body you call boring in middle school.

From the inaugural spoonful, one thing becomes clear about Raisin Bran with Bananas: the whole thing—every crater of every flake and every wrinkle of every raisin, is pretty thickly glazed with banana taste.

Which is kind of how most of my dreams end.

But it’s a very genuine banana fruitiness. On a scale of real yella banana to Banana Laffy, this cereal’s so-called “Hahanana Quotient” is a relieving and refreshing 2. Presumably from either half of the box’s proclaimed “natural flavors,” even the banana chips take on a light candied banana undertone.

This isn’t upsetting though, because when bonded with this sweet banana gloss, the bran flakes become like ripe and caramelized baked bananas, the raisins pleasantly pair tang with tropical sweetness, and the banana chips themselves…well, they’re not pleasant to encounter in the wild.

But with conscious cognitive effort, it’s pretty easy to avoid the cloying accident of eating a banana chip by itself, and instead you get to blend the banana bake and banana fruit world into a single cereal that tastes like the joined life energies of two muffins who are rebelliously underrated: banana nut and oatmeal raisin (the toasted flakes evoke other earthen flavors).

And yes, milk makes it taste even better. Not insanely better, but it quells the intense chewy sweetness of the banana chips while giving the whole bowl the creamy, moist goodness of a fresh-baked muffin. Highly recommended, especially if you pour a bowl with milk and forget about it, returning later to something that has the consistency and surprisingly awesome taste of a melted pastry.

Overall, this Raisin Brananas cereal definitely came out of the left banana field: it’s got enough fiber and protein to make me feel good about eating it, with enough sweet banana authenticity to make it satisfying, too. My only criticism is the loosely regulated potency of the banana chips, but when taken with a spoonful—or placated with milk—even they can enrich the cereal’s greater good.

Now I’ll just wait for Malt-O-Meal to fire back with a Blueberry Muffin Tops reboot.

The Bowl: Kellogg’s Raisin Bran with Bananas

The Breakdown: Genuinely fruity, with all the goodness of your local Tim Hortons’ muffin case—ironically it’s the real bananas that make this taste a little extra sugar-dosed at times.

The Bottom Line: 9 instances of crunchy consonance out of 10