I’ve got a fresh theory for you. Pull up a chair, imagine me seated backwards in one, and tell me what you think of this:
See, I’ve been thinking. With 9(!) years of cereal journalism quite literally under my belt, what am I even looking for from the cereal industry any more? While I still love cereal, it’s hard to deny that I’ve lost a lot of hope that Big Cereal will ever do the right thing and release thoughtful, heartily formulated new products that will put a smile on my face and intestines alike—y’know, like they used to, back in the day.
Lately it seems like General Mills, Kellogg’s, and their ilk (though Post is the closest to upholding quality standards [hint hint about this review’s conclusion]) have been in a race to the bottom, rehashing existing cereals or covertly cheapening their recipes to save a little money at the expense of edibility and consequent enjoyability.
So, naturally, I should be praying for bombastic breakfast innovation, right? That’s what I thought for a while. Why, then, has every recent attempt at taking cereal to brave new frontiers kind of, well, flopped like a fish in a tank of New Coke?
It’s pretty simple: from cereals that do in-mouth climate control to flavors that could generously be described as “unique,” these innovations aren’t anything anyone is actually asking for! (Now that’s what I call dissonance amongst assonance.)
What do I want, then? Well if bland reskins and vulgar palate fumigants are on opposite ends of the objectionable cereal continuum, perhaps the apex of golden, agreeable achievement lies somewhere in the middle—and there is perhaps no better cereal to support that hypothesis than new Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats.
(Well, maybe there’s one better cereal. But we’ll get to that!)
Alright, I’ll stop drip-feeding you my master treatise and just spoon-feed you the cold, crunchy truth. Here comes the plane: the best thing a new cereal can do is intelligently iterate on the best aspects of its current appeal, adding a mouthwatering modifier that complements and capitalizes on what makes the stuff already good. That’s what Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats does, and that’s why it tastes great.
Incidentally, this is also what CinnaGraham Toast Crunch did, making it the perfect precedent for my little theory here. It’s simple—Cinnamon Toast Crunch’s cinnamon sugar flavor tastes good, but its vapid rice-based groundwork of grain does nothing to further accentuate that beloved basting. Which is why swapping in some honey graham sweetness only further elevated said goodness to the auburn fields of Cereal Elysium, making CinnaGraham Toast Crunch my undisputed favorite cereal of 2022.
With Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats, it’s less a case of filling in its parent cereal’s blindspots, and more of a “we’ve granularly analyzed the DNA of what makes Honey Bunches of Oats tasty in order to scientifically determine what flavor could synchronize with it as perfectly as a mecha anime protagonist.”
See, a big part of HBoO’s appeal comes from the sweet golden caramelization of its flakes and granola clusters alike. So by quite literally amping that caramelization up with actual salted caramel, you get what is essentially the final, über-powerful stage of this cerealized Pokémon evolutionary line (Corn Flakes [Ground Type] → Honey Bunches of Oats [Ground Type] → Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats [Ground/Rock Type]).
It just tastes good! Partly because the salted caramel is strategically subdued: it’s not overbearing and artificial like the heinous Caramel Apple Jacks (whose aroma could be deployed to ward off bugs, bears, and Beelzebub alike), but rather quite natural. Likewise, the saltiness is there, but certainly not parching.
Not that it would matter if it were, because you should be eating Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats with milk anyway. For one thing, milk brings out the sometimes-too-subtle caramel flavor, drawing it out in sweet golden ribbons. But in a broader sense, Honey Bunches of Oats should always be eaten with milk! It’s honestly like, the epitome of a perfect in-milk cereal, as the flakes sail along the threshold of crispiness and sogginess, while the eponymous bunches soak up milk to become doughy little bliss bombs.
So overall, Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats may just be my favorite cereal of 2024 so far, even if only because of its thoughtfully strategic formulation that sets a respectable standard for other new cereals. Sure, this isn’t a perfect cereal: I think the salted caramel flavor could be a liiiiiittle stronger, but I still find it irresistibly delicious and didn’t actually get any photos of any big granola bunches because I ate most of the box before I could take pictures.
That might just be because I love Honey Bunches of Oats, though. So consider me biased.
Deliciously biased.
The Bowl: Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats
The Breakdown: Existing at the interstice of innovation and renovation, Salted Caramel Honey Bunches of Oats are basically just Honey Bunches of Oats, but more delightfully caramelized.
The Bottom Line: 9 punchy bunches out of 10
I want peaches honey bunches back
Thank you for this review and the little internet haven of cereal journalism that you write! It brightens so many days
King shit. The Empty Bowl is the best podc
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