I love gingerbread. I’m saying it now. I’m saying it in short, staccato sentences. I love gingerbread men. I love gingerbread houses. I love the character of Gingy in the Shrek films. I insist people call me “Gingerbread Dan” around Christmastime. I’d give up an arm and a leg of my own if it meant getting the chance to bite the arms and legs off of a discontinued Kemps Gingerbread Man ice cream sandwich again.

I love their earthy color. I love the blend of spices. I love the molasses. But most of all, I love the sadistic joy of tearing a soft, pliable sugar man limb from tasty limb all in the name of holiday spirit. Please mention that last sentence in my eulogy.

To any cereal company reading this, I have only 3 words:
Gingerbread. Cereal. PLEASE.

— Cerealously 🥛🥣 (@cerealouslynet) November 30, 2015

I’ve campaigned for gingerbread flavored cereals before to no avail. So that’s why when I heard about Trader Joe’s new Cranberry Gingerbread Granola, my heart started pumping faster than the Gingerbread Man’s when he’s running away from those who chase him. But will this mix of “whole grain oats with dried cranberries, ginger, and wintry spices” be a winter win?

I’m weary of trying another Trader Joe’s seasonal granola after the Frankenstein’s spice cabinet monstrosity they called Pumpkin Spice Granola, but the word “gingerbread” is like a magnet for my tongue that causes it to pull me along like a reluctant dog on a leash. After inspecting the toasty, almond colored granola, its spice-dusted, wrinkly cranberries, and its ingredients list that includes cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, cardamom, as well as a hidden “your mom” joke (okay, maybe not that last one), I’m afraid again of sensory overload.

But after taking a dry munch of granola and cranberries, I’m happy to report that it isn’t nearly as overwhelming as the Pumpkin Spice Granola. There is a subdued, tickling ginger burn beneath crumbly, dense oat overtones, and the other spices all blend together to give the flavor experience a light floral trimming.

The dry cranberries don’t provide much flavor either—just a chewy reprieve from the oat clusters’ hearty crunch and a faint, juicy tang. Occasionally, I did encounter rogue pockets of clumped together ginger, and these provided a burn more bitter than that aforementioned “your mom” joke. The moral of the story? Inspect your bowl as if it’s surprise Halloween candy you got from the Gillette company.

So eaten dry, this granola can hardly be called “gingerbread,” but its largely inoffensive, pleasantly diverse flavors would certainly work as a thematically appropriate trail mix for all your snowshoeing and snowman-making adventures.

Just don’t forget to give your snowman cranberry eyes and granola buttons!

After dousing my lingering mouth flames with some milk (and a handful of sweetly contrasting Sugar Cookie Toast Crunch), I poured some cold milk onto my granola, as well. The resulting effect was the opposite of what I expected: the milky flood seemed to wash all the ginger bits out of the protective oat-y caverns they were hiding in. This left behind bland, chewier clusters and an endmilk that burned nostrils and tastebuds alike like merry, yuletide Xenomorph blood.

With my hopes of an authentic gingerbread experienced seemingly dashed (and danced, and pranced, and vixen-ed), I turned to Trader Joe’s Fearless Flyer to mop up my likely ginger-flavored tears. But after reading through the flyer’s (let me just digress and say how the Fearless Flyer has some of the best writing ever; if you’re reading this, Fearless Flyer-writer, I’m your biggest fan!) spiel on Cranberry Gingerbread Granola, it encouraged me to “warm it in the microwave with milk for a breakfast treat that tastes like gingerbread in a bowl.”

Even though it was half past lunchtime, I took the advice and was not disappointed! The scientific Christmas magic inside my microwave turned the formerly hearty and hardy clusters into milky, doughy chunklets that contained a happy balance of creamy sweetness and warm spice. It still lacked a distinctive, dark molasses flavor, but combined with the oats and cranberries, this confection was like an oven-baked zygote formed from the merging of gingerbread and oatmeal raisin dough balls.

So while my gingerbread cereal quest will continue (I won’t be satisfied until tiny gingerbread men cereal pieces are synchronized swimming in a milky bowl before me), Trader Joe’s has taken a step in the right direction with this granola. When eaten dry or microwaved with milk, it has me feeling merry enough to put on a festive turtleneck and read How the Grinch Stole Christmas to my imaginary nieces and nephews next to an equally imaginary fireplace.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have some Cookie Biology & Genealogy textbooks to study.

The Bowl: Trader Joe’s Cranberry Gingerbread Granola

The Breakdown: It makes for a good, seasonally spiced treat, but without the recognizable punch of the syrupy elixir we call “molasses,” this granola still has me hoping for a better gingerbread cereal.

The Bottom Line: 7 oat cluster spelunkers out of 10