I have a theory: Chex and Cheerios are both ethereally and cereally soul bonded.
See, every flavored variant of normal Chex has a direct flavor analogue in the Cheerios canon. Blueberry and Blueberry. Chocolate and Chocolate. Cinnamon and Oat Crunch. Vanilla and Frosted. Honey Nut and You Know What. I can only assume this portal between worlds was torn asunder by Fred Chexter, the protagonist of Chex Quest whose Zorching weapons are capable of interdimensional rifting.
With Violet Beauregarde, one of the Blue Man Group guys (the quiet, sensitive one), and Paul Giamatti’s character Marty Wolf in the seminal 2002 classic film Big Fat Liar as my witnesses, I will never stop preaching the good word of Kellogg’s Fruity Snacks—specifically the blueberry ones.
Ever since Scooby-Doo fruit snacks, another object of my analogical fixation, changed their packaging and recipe for the worse, Kellogg’s Fruity Snacks are undoubtedly the best bite-sized bits of gelatin you can find in the Snacks, Etc. aisle. In fact, I’d say they’re third in my personal gummy candy fandom, surpassed only by blue sharks (essentially blueberry Fruity Snacks that’ve evolved predatory instinct) and Venus de Milo herself.
Yes, the potently juicy flavor of each Kellogg’s Fruity Snack, be it straw-, rasp-, or blueberry, is both refined and instantly recognizable. But it’s that last cerulean snack—which I also love for looking like a video game mana potion—that I’ve most wanted to see translated into a cereal again. Too often in mixed berry cereals, the flavor scientists paint the whole flavortown red, giving little leeway for the subtlety of blueberry to shine through. Yet every time there’s been an exception, the result is wonderful—even if it inevitably results in discontinuation, too. Whether they’re Tiny Toasts (turned Toast Crunches) or Muffin Tops that inspire sponsored meals, blueberry cereal is a refreshing, yet underrated experience—much like the first swing set underdog during a brisk late-fall recess.
The moment I heard about Blueberry Cheerios, I hoped this was my chance to taste blueberry gummy jam spread across toasted grain once more. So no pressure, General Mills: but if you get this one wrong, you’ll have to sculpt me a gummy Dionysus as penance.
Move over, Life: there’s a new cereal that’s kid tested, and Mother Nature approved.
But much like climate change, we’ll need to act quickly if we want to get a handle on it. It’s called Honey Toasted Kernza Cereal, and it’s the result of an initiative by General Mills and Cascadian Farm that’s over two years in the making, all to promote its namesake grain.
See, Kernza is an official name for intermediate wheatgrasses that have a number of positive environmental impacts, from helping fauna restore their habitats to protecting our flora’s water supply—not to mention keeping more carbon from impacting our atmosphere.
While I don’t cover nearly as many “healthy” cereals on this blog as I do stomach-frostingly sweet ones, I’ll do anything I can to signal-boost a cereal that ensures a future world where we can still eat gut-glazingly sugary breakfasts—and it’s probably a more sustainable cereal eco-solution than living off the grid in a cabin made of mortared Mini-Wheats.
(Can you imagine the dust problems in the crawlspace?)
Cascadian Farm’s Honey Toasted Kernza Cereal can be acquired by donating $25 or more to The Land Institute. 100% of the money goes to this group that’s helping hype up Kernza across the globe, so it can be a bigger household name than all those second millennia-old bananas found in Ancient Grain Cheerios. By unfortunate circumstance, Honey Toasted Kernza Cereal is more limited of an edition than anticipated: crop failure led to a smaller harvest that could only constitute 6,000 boxes.
So if you want to pair your morning R&R with a little PR for an especially green greenhorn grain, head to the cereal’s Fundly page.
What’s more emotionally resonant than 5,000 candles in the wind? 15,000 cardboard vessels bearing thousands more sugar-smithed unicorn heads riding a manifold wave of cresting rainbows.
And that’s before you add milk.
This ferociously (and fangoriously) devoured fantasy is more likely than you think: once again, Lucky Charms is giving away specially designed boxes of All Marshmallows—but this time, each 270g iridescent treasure chest is full of only rainbows and unicorns.
Let’s talk turkey. Or bunnies, to be seasonally appropriate.
When you’re reviewing breakfast fare, a scale is necessary. I won’t feign presumptions on how those who write about lesser foodstuffs manage to assign numerical ratings. What constitutes a perfect 10 in, say, pizza? Are there dual systems for thin crust and deep dish? Such are the fodder phantasms that haunt my countertop in the night.
Comparatively, then, I’m grateful for pantry paragons that act as polestars. We know that no cereal on the market today can, however mighty, topple Cracklin’ Oat Bran from its lofty position—even if matched by otherexceptionalstaples. But it’s hard to compare everything against the crème de la crunch. Once in a while, we need to be reminded that superb bowls (heyoo!) exist only in light of normal, unremarkable cereal. We grade Gaussian around these parts, folks, no matter how much one may lovelog.
So Annie’s released a new cereal. Sort of. Remember Annie’s Homegrown? They make feel-good versions of classic favorites, like organic boxed mac and cheese, organic graham crackers, and organic fruit gummies, all in the shape of their lagomorph mascot. It’s a cute concept, often with a nightmare-conjuring price tag. This one, for instance, runs over $4 USD at my local Walmart for a relatively dinky box.
Naturally, one assumes that quality costs more. And although that hasn’t been the case historically, hare hops spring eternal. Continue reading →
Yes, Reese’s Puffs’ go-to spring seasonal shapes, Bunnies, have returned once more. And while I love the things for their increased surface area and the cocoa-catching crevasses of their angular anatomy, I was hoping we’d finally get the PB-stuffed Reese’s Puffs Eggs I’ve been dreaming of ever since I first dunked a real oblong Easter Reese’s into a tall glass of Peeps nectar.
(Okay, I didn’t actually use the Peeps juice. You ever try milking one of those things?)
While the actual bite-sized Bunnies appear to be the same, this year’s boxes strip away the old pastel pastiche that mimicked Reese’s other Easter wrappers in favor of a classical brand styling that’s more in line with the cereal’s other limited edition holiday Puffsculpts. Being a washed-up warrior of washed-out colors, I’m a little disappointed by this decision, but I suppose cheerful yellow doesn’t have much place in a cereal known for being an impulsively grabbed orange eye-catcher—it’s the veritable Krispy Kreme Hot Light of the breakfast aisle.
If you read my earlier post—which I’ve now updated—on Toy Story 4 Cereal and were rendered sleepless with anticipation for the visual discovery of the mentioned Blueberry Cheerios, you can quite literally rest assured: thanks to a recent business press release from General Mills, we now have our first whole-grainy look at the latest performance patch to America’s favorite cereal rings.
These indigo oats are the latest in a storied run of blueberry General Mills cereals, whose likes include Blueberry Chex and the late Blueberry Toast Crunch (née Tiny Toast). While I wholly trust GM to continue their successful blue streak—a trail of glory that apparently left Boo Berry behind in the corny dust decades ago—I’m most excited to see how Blueberry Cheerios evolve Very Berry Cheerios. I know that cereal has its fans, but I personally thought blueberry’s talent was squandered behind strawberry and raspberry, whose shouting match of tastes left both them and me appropriately red in the face.
But I’ll quite brambling on about berry cereals and let you get back to feasting your eyes on the render above. It’s a beautiful box that, in addition to mimicking Blueberry Toast Crunch’s cardboard hues identically, also suggests that any bowl of Blueberry Cheerios will develop a massive, shadowy blueberry familiar capable of dragging your enemies into a nebulous cerulean void.
After all, revenge is a dish best served with cold milk.
There is a storied era in my life, one marked by a fleeting—or perhaps flaking—fixation with Fiber One. This was no regular phase (and yet, it very much was); in fact, I look back at it fondly as the deliberate death and rebirth of my true cereal passion.
At the time, I grew worried that my sugary cereal habits were contributing to a hollow hunger dissatisfied with airy rice and now-empty bowls of emptier calories. To make up for it, I dived headfirst into every cereal Fiber One released at the time, to knock off those gnawing cravings with a real gut-buster/duster/cluster. Chocolate Squares, Honey Squares, Honey Clusters, and even original Fiber One—a bona fide gut-readjuster at 55% of your daily recommended fiber per 1/2 cup serving…
…which I’d eat a full cup or more of before even leaving the house. Some say the gargantuan belly gurgles that followed were nationally registered as deep-sea sonar anomalies.
I eventually grew tired of these breakfast bombshells and used the experience to synthesize a happier balance of morning sweets and sticks, ultimately making me a more well-rounded cereal blogger. That’s why I’m more than happy to both review and defend Fiber One from dismissive cereal critics. Because if a Fruity Pebbles-centric diet has left you groggy and gravelly, something like these new Strawberries & Vanilla Clusters might just mix things up without churning them up. Continue reading →
