Author: Drew

REVIEW: Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies (Chocolate Peanut Butter and Chocolate Fudge)

Drew 30 Comments

Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies (Chocolate Peanut Butter and Chocolate Fudge)

Oh, Fiber One Brownies – how do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

…

…..

Let’s start over. It was the best of brownies; it was the worst of brownies. Well, actually not so much “best”…

…..

Fiber One Brownies, I love you true; you keep me thin, you make me–

Hmm.

You know, sometimes a clever intro just isn’t happening. (Some would argue that for me they NEVER happen.) Let’s just move on.

As past reviews will attest, I’m generally not very good about what I eat. Way too much soda, red meat, and sugary products, and not nearly enough stuff that is statistically less hazardous for you than rat poison. Fiber One Brownies are an attempt at a compromise, finding something that won’t kill me and might actually make me healthier without requiring the slightest change in diet. Because I’m an American, dammit, and if you think I’m not eating what I want when I want, you can get the hell back to Russia, commie. Some of you may consider that jingoistic, but ask yourselves this: where’s my scotch? Come on, scotch, you and I need to get this review done by toml;djknsado;aodnj

While the idea of a low-calorie dessert that also tastes awesome is obviously going to appeal to everyone, I think most of us are rightly skeptical of such products, as 9 times out of 10 they taste like urinal cakes rather than the thing they’re trying to emulate. So I went in with understandable trepidation, yet also hopes that this would be the product to reverse the trend. Visually they look okay — kind of small, but for 90 calories you’re probably not expecting a massive brick of chocolate. But in terms of taste? Put it this way: I’m halfway through each box, and I’ll let you know when I get to a good one.

I think “moist” is an adjective most people would use to describe their ideal brownies and towelettes, and it’s also the last word you’d use in reference to Fiber One Brownies. “Like they mixed coffee grounds in with the recipe” would be a more apt descriptor. They’re basically the dessert equivalent of the saltine challenge. You just might be able to eat six in a minute, but if they don’t dehydrate your mouth, they’ll be dehydrating you in an entirely different way in the near future. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, that means you should definitely try it. Let me know how that works out.

Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies Chocolate Peanut Butter

The peanut butter ones do carry a peanut butter taste, but it seems to coexist alongside the chocolate instead of melding together. It’s like a gentrified country club that reluctantly agrees to allow minorities in, but then refuses to talk to them and pretends they aren’t there. And yes, I just compared peanut butter to racist WASPs, which should tell you just how uninspired this peanut butter is. And how very, very far I’ll go to stretch a metaphor.

Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies Chocolate Fudge

The chocolate fudge variety is slightly better just by virtue of not trying to mix together two flavors that seem bound and determined to fight each other. There’s just a hint of fudge flavor underlying the chocolate, which I don’t blame them for because for 90 calories, I had assumed one of the packaging machines was operated by a guy who once heard about fudge from a friend. It’s a bit less dry than the peanut butter kind, though actually using the word “moist” on the back of the package is still an exaggeration gross enough to merit at least three lawsuits. Still, I suppose if you’ve only got 90 calories left to spare for lunch and you work at one of those places that frowns on drinking light beer at your desk, there are worse options out there. Not many, but some.

Between this review and Stephanie’s shit fit from the other day, it may seem like we’re beating up on Fiber One lately. But really, it’s their own fault for sucking. Sure it’s impressive that the products are so low calorie and will probably induce you to lose at least half of that, but if they taste bad, I can just eat celery and not pretend I’m getting dessert out of it. I suppose these are useful for people who are mentally hung up on the idea of needing dessert but don’t have the calories to spare, but everyone else can safely take a pass. Your colon may not thank you, but your taste buds will.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 brownie – Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie – 90 calories, 30 calories from fat, 3 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 110 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 5 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein. Chocolate Fudge Brownie – 90 calories, 25 calories from fat, 3 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 100 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of total carbohydrates, 5 grams of dietary fiber, 8 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies (Chocolate Peanut Butter and Chocolate Fudge)
Price: 2 for $5.00 (on sale)
Size: 6 brownies
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 4 out of 10 (Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Chocolate Fudge Brownie)
Pros: Low calorie. Small, so easy to transport. Visually acceptable. Tasty hint of fudge. Cheaper than a colonoscopy.
Cons: Non-clever intros. Coffee ground brownies. Moist as a hot sidewalk in July. Racist peanut butter. Fiber dehydration. Stretching metaphors like a woodchuck stuck in a taffy machine.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Caramel Frosty Shake and Wendy’s Chocolate Frosty Shake

Drew 9 Comments

Wendy's Caramel Frosty Shake

Wendy’s and I have an interesting relationship with each other. I don’t mean to sound like an old man, but when I was growing up, there wasn’t a Wendy’s to be found in New Jersey, lending it a mystique not found in your more prevalent chains like McDonald’s or Burger King. I remember the only one I knew of was on the way to Snowvania, which is what they called Vermont in those days. We would go there on our annual ski trip. You couldn’t get real skis because of the war, so we had to buy two snowboards and tie them to our feet.

Now, we’d stop at the Wendy’s on our way every year or so, and my sister and I would each get a Frosty, or as we called them in those days, thickshakes. “Give me five thickshakes for a dollar!” you’d say, and a smiling Ella Fitzgerald would bring them out to your motor car. Oh, did she have gams, that Ella! Anyway, once we finished our thickshakes, my sister and I would hollow out the bottoms and wear them on our ears, which was the style at the time.

But the point is, I’ve always liked Wendy’s, partially because of their scarcity when I was a kid, and partially because they actually make their burgers plain in the first place instead of what McDonald’s used to do; i.e., making them with the works and then just scraping that shit off when you dare to ask for a plain burger. Like that’s the same thing, jerks. Anyway, Frosties have always held a special place in my heart due to my childhood memories, so when I heard they were rolling out new Frosty Shakes, I was all over that like reality show stars on professional athletes.

But then I learned something that tempered my enthusiasm: Frosty Shakes were actually replacing my beloved Twisted Frosties, where they would blend M&Ms or Butterfingers in. I have mixed feelings about that, because those things were seriously damn good, yet are also the reason I can no longer comfortably fit into 28-inch waist jeans without my Strippercize DVD. But it does create some pressure on the Frosty Shake, because if you’re not as good as what you’re replacing, well, SOMEONE is in for a few curse words muttered into my dashboard and a scathing blog review. I’m just saying.

Wendy's Caramel Frosty Shake 2

This isn’t the first time Wendy’s has offered Frosty Shakes, but they have added two new flavors — in addition to the original chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, you can now get your fill of caramel and wild berry. As always, I will be reviewing the one that doesn’t even play at being healthy. It does, however, aspire to a higher class of caramel by name-dropping the Ghirardelli brand. I sort of question the wisdom of that — you don’t go to Wendy’s expecting kobe beef and watercress on your burger, so are you really going to care that the caramel in your two-bucks-and-change shake is associated with the finest chocolatiers in the world? I’m not sure it was worth shelling out for the brand name, but that’s the ghost of Dave Thomas’ business, not mine.

For starters, I have to give Wendy’s credit for sheer visual appeal. You know how fast food always looks great in the ads and then like a lump of reheated turds when you pull it out of the bag? Well, I’ll be damned if this shake didn’t look nearly as good in real life as it does on TV, which is impressive. This probably varies by the server, but the whipped cream on mine was plentiful and even had criss-crosses of caramel covering it, a nice touch. (Mind you, it’s summer, so that’s going to last about 3 minutes before it melts into a blob of goo.) But taste is what really matters, and this… this tastes good.

It’s thick enough that I initially had trouble getting some through the straw, though this would likely be substantially less difficult for groupies, congressional aides, and certain Jersey Shore cast members. But once I did, I was impressed by how vivid the flavor was. This isn’t watered down in the slightest — that’s pure caramel.

Wendy's Chocolate Frosty Shake

It’s almost a little overwhelming, and I can see people who are just kind of “enh” about caramel thinking it might even be a bit too strong, but I really dug it. It’s rich, very sweet, and lingers on your tongue like a dog who won’t go away after you feed him scraps, but it’s okay because he’s pretty cute and doesn’t look rabid. Also, the whipped cream melts into the shake and dilutes things a bit while lending an extra little creaminess to the whole thing. I would’ve ordered another if not for the fact that it’s so filling, and also because there’s a warning label cautioning that two will cause instant cardiac arrest.

Though the caramel Frosty Shake is the main attraction, I also sampled the chocolate variety just so I could give you a broader accounting of the overall line. I know, I really spoil you guys. Though not quite as impressive, it’s still pretty good. It’s nearly as thick as the caramel variety and has copious whipped cream with chocolate sauce drizzled over it. Also very creamy, but while it’s not quite as sweet as the caramel, it tastes very distinctly of chocolate syrup. Maybe that’s why I didn’t like it quite as much — familiarity breeds contempt and all that, and it’s almost like someone just emptied half a bottle of Hershey’s syrup into a vanilla milkshake.

I don’t know that I’ll ever stop mourning the loss of my Twisted Frosties (you could mix M&Ms into a chocolate Frosty!), but the shakes go a long way toward healing that rift. It’s convenient to be able to expand the size of your ass without having to burn all those precious calories lifting a plastic spoon to your mouth again and again. Assuming you’ve got belt notches to spare, pick one up with your next plain cheeseburger — I don’t think you’ll regret it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 small shake – Caramel – 680 calories, 15 grams of total fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 330 milligrams of sodium, 126 grams of total carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 102 grams of sugar, 11 grams of protein. Chocolate – 610 calories, 14 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 45 milligrams of cholesterol, 260 milligrams of sodium, 109 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 98 grams of sugar, 12 grams of protein.)

Other Wendy’s Caramel Frosty Shake reviews:
On Second Scoop

Item: Wendy’s Caramel Frosty Shake and Wendy’s Chocolate Frosty Shake
Price: $2.39
Size: 12 oz.
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Caramel)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Chocolate)
Pros: Five different flavors. Ella Fitzgerald’s gams. Fast food places that make your burger plain. Visually-appealing whipped cream. A milkshake that brings me to the yard. Copious quantities of caramel. Rich chocolate syrup.
Cons: The war. Sacrificing Twisted Frosties. Pointless corporate name dropping. Difficult to get any through the straw unless you work in the entertainment industry. Ridonkulously unhealthy.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate

Drew 8 Comments

Dunkin Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate

Summer is upon us, which means it’s time for me to scatter mousetraps in the grass and encourage neighborhood children to run barefoot through my lawn.  But it also means it’s time for Dunkin’ Donuts’ annual annoying commercials touting their cool, refreshing products, because seasonal slumps are bad and we all associate donuts and coffee with winter, and also AA meetings.  But mostly winter. 

Now, I’ve liked plenty of DD’s warm weather offerings (Vanilla Bean Coolattas are my crack), and you can’t fault them for wanting to keep profits up during the time of year when you’re statistically least likely to crave hot coffee and a Boston Kreme.  But do their ads have to be so damn lame?  On the list of things I never thought I’d be nostalgic for, John Goodman’s voice is pretty close to the top, right under “swimming until I feel like puking.” 

Seriously, I’d rather they shoot a spot featuring the desiccated corpse of the “Time to make the donuts!” guy than keep up with their current crop.  And does this failure to connect with me as a consumer have any correlation with their repeated inability to comprehend the phrase “small iced coffee, skim milk and sugar”?  So many questions.

But we’re not here to answer them, we’re here to talk about DD’s latest offering, Frozen Hot Chocolate, and also probably to kill some time at work.  (No one is judging.  You’re worth more than what they pay you anyway.  Bastards.)  On the surface it sounds completely incongruous — the appeal of hot chocolate is that it’s, well, hot, or at least warm enough to melt those tiny marshmallows — but it wouldn’t be the first pair of opposites that somehow manage to make it work.  Right, Paula Abdul and MC Skat Kat?  Right.

That being said, I’m not going to lie — I went in with some skepticism.  Your mileage may vary, but to me part of the inherent comfort factor of hot chocolate is tied to its visual appearance.  A truly great hot chocolate must be served in a mug, ideally one you grew up with or that was given to you by family or friends, with marshmallows dotting the surface and visible steam rising from the top.  Ideally you should still be able to see the wet gloves you used to make an anatomically correct snowman in your neighbor’s backyard while he was shoveling his driveway. 

With that in mind, I’m afraid the standard clear DD cup that my frozen hot chocolate came in was a poor substitute, but in the interest of reviewer integrity, I made a point not to knock down the score simply because of its subpar visual appearance.  Although I still blew on the top a few times before taking a drink.  Force of habit.

Dunkin Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate Top

My first impression of the taste was that it was pleasant, but also distinctly familiar.  Obviously it’s sweet, very much so, with a relatively creamy milk chocolate flavor that gets a little darker in some parts of the drink than in others, likely due to it not having been mixed thoroughly.  The texture is deceptively thin — appearances to the contrary, you’re definitely drinking a full-on beverage, not a Frosty or milkshake.  I highly recommend getting it with the whipped cream if you’re willing to stomach the calories, if only to maintain the illusion that you are drinking something vaguely hot chocolate-y.

Oh, as for that familiar taste I mentioned?  I didn’t figure it out until I was almost finished, at which point it became both obvious and impossible to ignore, like when you first realize C-3PO is gay.  The big revelation is that the frozen hot chocolate tastes almost exactly like not-completely-mixed chocolate milk.  For all I know maybe regular hot chocolate would taste the same way if you iced it, but I wasn’t expecting that and it surprised me.

It’s worth pointing out that DD’s Frozen Hot Chocolate isn’t bad, just a bit underwhelming.  I can’t quite shake the suspicion that when they take the empty cup behind that vaguely sinister-looking equipment lining the counter, they’re just dumping a few cups of Nestle Quik and some milk in it, spraying on some Reddi Whip and calling it a day.  (You laugh, but sub-contracting out of things is a proud American tradition.)  Still, as long as you’re willing to pay three bucks plus for some very cold, very creamy chocolate milk with whipped cream, you can’t go wrong.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 small cup – 430 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of total fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 220 milligrams of sodium, 95 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 77 grams of sugars, 7 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 25% calcium, and 8% iron)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate
Price: $3.17
Size: 16 fl. oz.
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: “Time to make the donuts!” guy.  Wasting time at work.   Anatomically correct snowmen.  Creamy chocolate.  Plentiful whipped cream (if requested).  Nestle Quik.
Cons: Current DD commercials.  Not as visually appealing as regular hot chocolate.  Doesn’t taste fully mixed.  You can make and freeze your own chocolate milk for a lot less money.  The continued absence of MC Skat Kat on today’s music scene.

REVIEW: Ben & Jerry’s Bonnaroo Buzz

Drew 10 Comments

Ben & Jerry's Bonnaroo Buzz

Confession time: I was once a fan of a jam band. It’s not the sort of thing one admits to easily, but I feel like we’ve built up a level of trust. For years I resisted efforts by friends to convert me to the jam band mentality. In college my roommates would eagerly put on Phish’s “Meatstick,” and I’d shake my head while leaving for class and still be rolling my eyes an hour later when I returned in time to hear the final notes. What was the appeal of long, rambling songs that were the musical equivalent of Grampa Simpson telling a story? But in late 2001, I got dragged along to see O.A.R. play at a local club, and I… just… connected. It was a perfect storm of the general contentment and malaise that sets in midway through senior year, meeting laid-back songs about drinking, hanging out with friends, and crazy games of poker.

And with that, I was hooked. I went to a half-dozen O.A.R. concerts, successfully converted friends and family, watched them on Letterman… and for a brief period of time, I longed to attend Bonnaroo. Never very seriously — I think even then I realized only liking one band was not a good basis for attending a three-day musical event. But still, it remains the one festival I’ve ever really given any serious thought to, and my ears perk up whenever I hear it mentioned. Enter: Ben and Jerry and their latest hippie offering. Not to get stereotyped as the ice cream guy, but today we’re looking at Bonnaroo Buzz, yet another Fair Trade-certified flavor from everyone’s favorite not-necessarily-gay duo from Vermont.

For starters, please don’t ask me to explain how the flavor has any connection with Bonnaroo whatsoever — it’s coffee and malt ice cream with whiskey caramel swirls and English toffee pieces mixed in. Seems like a more appropriate title might be “Flavo(u)rs of the British Isles,” or perhaps “Feck th’ English (Though Their Toffee’s Not Bad),” but I guess that would be a hard sell to your more conservative grocery stores. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, though, because while I’m certain many of the attendees at any given Bonnaroo are indeed buzzed, I think that’s an entirely different buzz from the kind one gets from coffee. I like imagining Ben and Jerry trying to explain it to consumers: “Naw man, we wanted to put the good stuff in, but ‘the Man’ wouldn’t let us. It’s cool though, just talk to Steve, he’ll hook you up. In the meantime we just put in whiskey, and coffee, and toffee, ’cause that totally rhymes, man! Whoa… did you ever really look at the back of your hand?” Then it’s just twenty minutes of giggling.

Ben & Jerry's Bonnaroo Buzz Container

Bonnaroo Buzz has the misfortune of having to follow up on me reviewing two good-to-very-good Ben & Jerry’s flavors, and unfortunately it doesn’t quite measure up. Coffee ice cream fans may want to bump that score up by a point or two, but it just doesn’t hit exactly the right balance, with not enough caramel flavor spread throughout. Or rather, the smoothness of the caramel is able to briefly balance out the coffee bitterness, but it fades quickly while the bitterness lingers, which is not ideal. The toffee tastes good, crunchy but not teeth-shatteringly hard, although there were two massive chunks that really needed to be broken up into smaller pieces; not sure if that’s standard or if I just got an “off” carton. Still, I can’t say that the toffee flavor ever blended seamlessly with the ice cream so much as being two decent but distinct tastes. And I don’t know about you, but when I see the word “whiskey” on any product, I expect to be drunk after I’ve consumed a quarter of it, so strike three, Bonnaroo Buzz.

In general terms there’s a limit to how “bad” Ben and Jerry’s ice cream can really be — you’d still take it if it was offered to you — but compared to many of its forebears and peers, Bonnaroo Buzz isn’t in the same class. For O.A.R. fans, it’s like when they start playing “Delicate Few”… you kind of look forward to it, but then when you hear it you remember it’s not really one of your favorites and it’s probably time for a pee break. But, hell — every song is someone’s favorite, so if coffee ice cream is your thing, give it a shot. The rest of us will be in line for the bathroom.

(Nutrition Facts — 1/2 cup — 280 calories, 130 calories from fat, 14 grams of total fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 115 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of total carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 25 grams of sugars, 4 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 0% vitamin C, 10% calcium, and 0% iron)

Item: Ben & Jerry’s Bonnaroo Buzz
Price: $4.79
Size: 1 pint
Purchased at: Acme
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: “Hey Girl” live. Senior year malaise. Getting your British on. Smooth caramel. Solid but not adamantine toffee. Ice cream that could conceivably get you drunk.
Cons: “Meatstick.” Getting stereotyped as the ice cream reviewer. Names that don’t make sense. Lingering coffee bitterness. Toffee boulders. Ice cream that doesn’t actually get you drunk.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes with Fiber, Less Sugar

Drew 8 Comments

Kellogg's Frosted Flakes with Fiber, Less Sugar

Until recently, my attitude toward sugared cereals was remarkably similar to Charleton Heston’s stance on guns — you can have my Cap’n Crunch when you pry it from my cold, dead hands. I guess I always assumed that at some point once you become An Adult, you just woke up one day craving Cheerios or whole wheat toast, maybe with some jam on it if you’re feeling particularly wild. That never happened to me, so I just kept on buying my Lucky Charms and Waffle Crisp. (Mental note: find out if they still make Waffle Crisp.) It’s the same reason I still play video games and read Cracked instead of watching the news and perusing CNN.

But I AM an adult now, with a family and a mortgage and at least three Berenstain Bears books memorized (oh, how I loathe those damn bears), and the thought of coming downstairs in a few years and fighting my kids for the last bowl of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs is less than appealing. Plus I weigh a buck seventy-five and I’m not getting back to the gym anytime soon, so eating a little healthier is definitely in order.

Luckily, Kellogg’s has got me covered with a very slight variation on a popular theme: Frosted Flakes with Fiber, Less Sugar. If, like me, you feel that’s a little vague (wouldn’t leaving just one flake uncoated qualify as “less sugar”?), the fine print clarifies that it’s 25 percent less sugar. I suppose that’s a decent amount… 50 percent would’ve felt like more of an accomplishment, but maybe they were worried it would scare off their target market. Or it just taste-tested horribly. Either way, you’ll notice they don’t say MORE fiber, so out of curiosity I compared the fiber content to that of regular Frosted Flakes. It actually is roughly triple the fiber found in the original, so one can only assume they decided that’s not as much of a draw for people as “less sugar.” Good call.

Kellogg's Frosted Flakes with Fiber, Less Sugar Naked

If it seems like I’m taking a long time to get to the meat of the review, there’s a reason for that: these things really taste a hell of a lot like regular Frosted Flakes. They LOOK slightly less frosted, as they should, but in a blind taste test I can’t swear I’d be able to tell the difference. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little — they do taste a bit less sweet — but not markedly so. My theory is that the milk washes off a lot of the sugar anyway, so after a few minutes soaking in it, regular Frosted Flakes don’t really have any more sugar on them than the new variety. If true, this also suggests I really shouldn’t be drinking the milk left behind, but that’s another story.

The point is, if you were worried that these are going to taste like Wheaties or Corn Flakes, you can put that out of your mind. Just like the classic version, they’re sweet and initially crunchy, though just as prone to sogginess as their more sugared brethren. And, of course, they’re made from powdered tiger testicles to increase your sexual potency.

That’s the good news. The bad news is that anyone counting on this being a significantly healthier alternative to the original is out of luck. Granted, there’s a bit less sugar and three times the fiber, which is nice. But the total calories are exactly the same and there’s actually more sodium in the new variety, so don’t go tossing out that Shake Weight just yet. Bottom line, if you’re looking for something to make Junior just a little less hyper on the way to school, these might do the trick. But if you’re really trying to lose some weight, you’re better off just sucking it up and switching to white water. I mean crap milk. I mean skim milk. It’s the adult thing to do.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 130 calories, 0 calories from fat, 0 grams of total fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 35 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 10% vitamin C, 0% calcium, 25% iron, 10% vitamin D, 25% thiamin, 25% riboflavin, 25% niacin, 25% vitamin B6, 25% folic acid, 25% vitamin B12.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes with Fiber, Less Sugar
Price: $3.75
Size: 16.3 oz.
Purchased at: Acme
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Indulging your Peter Pan Syndrome. Tastes a lot like regular Frosted Flakes. Increased fiber. Actually looks less frosted. Powdered tiger testicles: gr-r-reat, and gr-r-reat for you! Shake Weight commercial.
Cons: Berenstain Bears. Only 25% less sugar. More of a novelty than a viable healthier alternative. Fighting your kids for cereal.Â