*BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEP!*

Picture it: you angrily punch the alarm clock and groan loudly to the heavens above your bleary, slowly focusing eyes.

It’s Monday again, so you try to channel your inner Garfield and muster up some sarcastic quip, but the lingering sleepies in your eyes prevent any coherent thought. Oh well, so much for the orange cat. At least you do have leftover lasagna for lunch. Or is it linguini?

Hey! Enough dawdling! You have to go to work!

You stumble and bumble through your morning routine (Pants on right-side-out? Check. Sickeningly black coffee brewing? Check.), even though your mind is still in last night’s dream with Carmen Electra and that piñata in a jacuzzi. If you’re gonna make it through Johnson’s 9am “productivity jamboree,” you’re gonna need something wholesome, yet satisfying for breakfast.

So you tear open the pantry like Chewbacca tears off arms, and you see the sun smiling back at you. No, not that flaming hot, helium-loving ball in the sky: this is a good sun. The one proudly hoisting twin scoops on your familiar purple box of Raisin Bran Crunch.

Oh yeah. It’s breakfast time.

Though not everyone is a “bran fan,” good ol’ RBC is a long-time favorite of mine. So bear with me as this bran boy goes all fanboy. The beautiful description on the box reads like it should rightfully be a haiku, but the ancient Japanese writer was so inspired by his crunchy muse that he threw in some extra syllables:

“Plump, juicy raisins, toasted flakes

& crunchy oat clusters glazed

with a touch of golden honey”

That really is a mouthful (or at least, it’s about to be), so let’s look at each part of this cereal trilogy, shall we? And don’t worry, I promise I’ll finish before George Lucas can release any raisin prequels.

Raisin Bran Crunch I: Wrath of the Grapes

Let’s not lie to ourselves, here: the raisins are probably the reason you bought this. They’re the added interest factor that lets RBC tower over those bland boxes of store brand Bran Flakes that only seem to exist in ’90s sitcoms. Kellogg’s claims that every box of Raisin Bran Crunch contains “two scoops” of dried fruit delight. But how much is two scoops really? I’ll outsource that question to people with more time on their hands than myself.

While the raisins may be small in size and similarly small in number, their prune-y punch is far from puny. Any spoonful that contains one of these bad boys will noticeably explode like a tangy grenade. Though I could fire adjective after adjective at you here, I think the truth is that you likely already know what a raisin tastes like. So I’ll spare my word count.

The interesting note here is the textural contrast the raisins give to the bowl as a whole. In the cereal world, crunch, munch, chomp, and snap are all too common sensations, so it’s nice to slow things down every once in awhile with a savory chew.

Raisin Bran Crunch II: A Wake-up Flake-up Shake-up!

Bran has become a dirty word. Its dense flavor and digestive…implications have ruined it for everyone. Mumbled in hush tones during the few times we are forced to say it, it seems we just don’t feel comfortable hearing those 4 little letters in sequence unless we’re in the company of our grandma or if we made an unfortunate typo when texting our friend Brian.

But I don’t think this is fair to bran. In fact, I’m not afraid to admit that I like bran.

To paraphrase The Elephant Man and Jerry Seinfeld: I am not a bran-imal!

Now that I have that off my chest, let’s get back to the flakes. For those accustomed to the crispy, airy lightness of flakes in cereals like Honey Bunches of Oats or Corn Flakes, your chompers are in for a shocker. The flakes here are heavy, and munching a spoonful produces a crunch that could spook local fauna, leave your ears ringing, and make jet engines blush. But once you break the crunch barrier, you’re rewarded with a rich and hearty flavor that makes you at least feel healthy (just ignore that whole “19g of sugar per serving” thing).

Will it win any converts from the Brotherhood of Bran-haters? Maybe not, but at least the noise will wake them up from their naps.

Raisin Bran Crunch III: How the Cluster Got Its Luster Back

And here we have it. The novelty which renders Kellogg’s normal Raisin Bran cereal laughably obsolete. Seriously: every time I see someone in the grocery store buying Crunch-less Raisin Bran, I wonder what happened in their life to make them lose all sense of adventure and fun. I want to reach out to them and say, “Don’t worry, there is still hope for you. May the Raisin Bran sun rise tomorrow and bestow upon you a new, crunchy beginning.” But I resist, because that’s probably how you end up on several FBI watch lists with multiple restraining orders.

Though the oat clusters are undoubtedly tasty, bestowing upon every spoonful a sugary blast to balance the more subdued flavors of the other parts, their composition has a delicious double-edged sword: the honey glaze. Its sticky sweetness is its downfall, as the minute you bite a cluster, instead of a crunch, you get an oh-man-I-have-a-cluster-stuck-in-my-teeth. And “Raisin Bran Oh-Man-I-Have-A-Cluster-Stuck-In-My-Teeth” is a much less appealing cereal name.

So I continue to eat the clusters, because their honey taste is the perfect balance between bland and cloying (it single-handedly inspires me to save the honeybees). And I hate myself for it as I reach for the floss afterwards. Well-played, clusters. You make for an addicting adversary.

Of course, the joy of Raisin Bran Crunch doesn’t come from any single piece. No: it’s all about the experience as a whole; it’s all about the experience of gobbling spoonful after spoonful down your face-hole! And the RBC trio truly provide a mashup of fun textures and flavors. With the many flakes providing a crunchy, earthy tasting framework, bursts of chewy fruit flavor seep through, and the honey coating of the clusters cast an enjoyable, syrupy glaze over the entire sha-bang.

I believe it’s this synergy that has led Raisin Bran Crunch to endure and endear on store shelves for so long. While one can argue about things like the ideal number of members in a band, perhaps, when it comes to cereal, three is the magic number.

I guess that means we won’t be tasting “Honey Bunches of Hall & Oats” or “The Wheatles” any time soon.

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The Bowl: Raisin Bran Crunch

The Breakdown: A threefold success of textures and flavors (earthy, crunchy flakes; juicy, chewy raisins; sweet, chewy clusters) that play off of each other’s strengths.

The Bottom Line: 9 Seinfeld impressions out of 10