Cereal – Page 51 – The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: Fiber One 80 Calories Chocolate Squares Cereal

Margaret / January 28, 2013 / Reviews / 7 Comments

What would happen if we all suddenly transformed into moose?

Well, aside from getting really huge noses and roaming freely between the Alaska-Canadian border, we would have the opportunity to consume about 9770 calories a day, a diet likely involving some grains seeing as we would no longer have the benefit of opposable thumbs and thus, would be shoveling our long noses into big bags of grains.

If this moose transformation were to happen now, we’d be in luck as a cornucopia of grainy goodies seems to be trundling down the production line of Kellogg’s, Post, and General Mills, all ripe for the tasting. Next in line? Fiber One Chocolate Squares.

This is a curious concept to me. Cereal that consists of chocolate and fiber doesn’t easily connect as one idea in my brain. They seem like two separate identities of cereals: one for Saturday morning cartoons and the other for the rest of the time. The thought of combining them is kind of like getting a six-man toboggan stuck in a tree in the middle of June: it doesn’t quite make sense, but sometimes 1) it doesn’t matter if it makes sense and 2) you just gotta trust that maybe it will over time. So I’m going to trust the General.

Upon pouring out the first handful, the little squares show a hopeful shade of cocoa brown (more specifically, “Russet Tone” in accordance with the paint sample book at Home Depot). They look like the wood chips my dad used to throw in the smoker and seem equally as sturdy, so you could probably reconstruct a full-scale model of the Eiffel Tower with them.

I, unfortunately, don’t have the architectural skills to reconstruct the Eiffel Tower with cereal product, so I ate them instead. On first shovelful, they’ve got a solid crisp. The chocolate is subtle, with the familiar chalky cocoa taste of Nesquik or Ovaltine. A sweeter (corn) bran somethin’ somethin’ comes in at the very end. I had intended for this to be my dessert, but, with its nostalgic powdered-chocolate-milk-and-cereal taste, could imagine it for breakfast. It holds a very delicate flavor. Delicate like antique chandeliers.

Sadly, that delicacy breaks apart when submerged in milk as any the sugary goodness dissolves. It’s like the little grains tried to dress up but then lost their tux and tails on the sidewalk. However, I know there’s a camp of people who love the sensation of cereal milk. If you are one such human, you may find you enjoy this in milk as its sturdy bran stands up for a good amount of time. The cocoa, however, still isn’t very strong, so the milk doesn’t taste so much of cocoa as it does of corn bran pulp. I’ll allow you to decipher for yourself whether you wish to embark on such an eating experience.

With Cocoa Krispies and Cocoa Puffs currently dominating the chocolate cereal market, the square is a welcome variation from the dominant geometrical experience of the most popular chocolate cereals. It broadens my mind to ask: what else could this cereal be? Would it make for a good ice cream topper? Or a pie crust? Or perhaps the medium for an installation piece at the MoMA? Imagine the possibilities.

You can be whatever you wanna be, little square (positive reinforcement).

My college roommate used to tell me to start my New Year’s Resolutions on solid knees. I’m not quite sure what that means, but I have a feeling that the 40 percent of the calcium provided within this box of chocolate squares will keep my knees in-check. Plus, they’ve got fiber and don’t taste like vitamins and minerals. That’s a hurdle and they’ve crossed it in well my book.

On the whole, while not spectacular, these were good for munching. I had hope for a deeper, more woodsy cocoa flavor, but, hey, let me not go all catawampus over my own nit-picky preferences. I enjoyed this enough. Is it the best chocolate cereal? Not for me, but it does provide something pretty innovative and pretty tasty and that’s pretty good for today.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 80 calories, 10 calories from fat 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 130 milligrams of sodium, 105 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 9 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 11 grams of other carbohydrates, 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Fiber One 80 Calories Chocolate Squares Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.97 (on sale)
Size: 11.75 ounce box
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Good size. Solid structure. Cocoa flavor. Doesn’t taste like vitamins and minerals. Lots of calcium. Solid knees. Antique chandeliers. Turning into a moose.
Cons: Cocoa flavor too delicate. Not much better in milk. Corn bran pulp. Getting a toboggan stuck in a tree. Not being equipped with architectural skills.

REVIEW: General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch

Margaret / January 18, 2013 / Reviews / 11 Comments

Juggler of Flaming Batons.

Academy Awards Ballot Counter.

Crayon Namer.

These were some of the 18 career paths I pursued in the summer of 2001. In order to meet the social and physical demands of said paths, I needed a good breakfast and, in accordance to my own priorities of nutrition, oats and sugar fit the bill, which is why I consumed a mix of Honey Nut Cheerios and Frosted Flakes for three weeks straight while tossing five batons in the air and thinking up crayon monikers like “Ghostbuster Slime.”

While I may not be a baton flame thrower, I haven’t forgotten that morning cereal blend, and thus, it came to my surprise, nostalgia, and anticipatory glee to discover this new Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch which promises not only a blend of O’s and sugary flakes, but clusters as well.

Let’s talk Honey Nut Cheerios: they’re simple. They don’t toss around marshmallows or throw confetti or swing on a trapeze (although it would be cool if they did. Could the people in product development get on that?). Heck, they don’t even taste of honey in that poofy, floral sense, but I’m cool with that. I don’t really want a greenhouse in my cereal bowl.

Tasting more of sugar, oats, and a hint of almond flavor, Honey Nut Cheerios holds a subtlety which makes them just right for anytime consumption, a phenomenon which has garnered them a fan base that deserves its own display at Comic Con. I’ve no doubt that Buzz, that anthropomorphic, sneaker-wearin’ bee, holds the secret recipe that, if revealed, would induce a political scandal all its own. Just look at his face…

It speaks of hidden secrets.

All these qualities make Honey Nut Cheerios versatile, and the greatness of that versatility is only heightened here. The classic O’s form the foundation (about 1/3 of the cereal), and, for all you Honey Nut connoisseurs, I am happy to report that there was no tampering with the formula of the classic O here, holding its trademark sweetness through and through.

The highlight came in the clusters, which are filled with whole oats and crispy thingies and smatterings of almonds. While the almonds don’t always come through, the clusters’ taste really shines in the department of roasted oats and brown sugar, which is a recipe for love if I’ve ever heard one. And did I mention they’re the size of small meteorites?

They add a heft that made me feel strong enough to carry a goat up the side of a mountain, then down the mountain, then maybe on a journey across the Oregon Trail. They are hard-terrain crunchy, requiring the most exercise from my teeth. I imagine crunching into one is akin to the satisfying feeling of accomplishment a beaver feels when s/he has gnawed through an especially tasty oak tree.

The downer about this cereal comes in the flakes, which are flimsy and, when immersed in liquid, dissolve into a brown, lumpy continent of soggy despair. However, I’m of two minds on this because the flakes taste pretty dad-gum good, having a deeper roasty almond flavor than the O’s that makes the regular Honey Nut Cheerios taste even better. What’s a human to do with tasty, yet soggy flakes?! Maybe, if I close my eyes and visualize my happy place, I can ignore the fact that I’m spooning brown, baby-food-esque globs of almond-tasting gloop in my mouth…

Or maybe I’ll just stick with this as a straight-from-the-bag cereal. Unless you’re keen on sog, I might suggest you do the same.

I often find myself in the cereal aisle experiencing the “Oh, I want that and that and that,” phenomenon, which results in a self-imposed peer pressure that amounts in purchasing more cereals than my pantry space permits. This Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch relieves that pressure.

Is this a mountain of honey oozing down from a crunchy exterior of fried dough? No. It’s a cereal mixture, and that’s okay with me. It’s not revolutionary and I wouldn’t necessarily choose it over Cinnamon Roll Frosted Mini Wheats, but it’s a balanced blend that tastes good from the bag, has plenty of clusters, and does something dandy for cholesterol. Sweet, soft, and a little edgy, this is a pleasant rendition of what a cereal mix aspires to be.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 120 calories, 15 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 105 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 2 gram of dietary fiber, 9 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: General Mills Honey Nut Cheerios Medley Crunch
Purchased Price: $3.59
Size: 13.1 ounces
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy clusters. Huge clusters. Plenty of clusters. Honey Nut Cheerios is still good. Relieves pressure to buy excessive boxes of cereal. Being a crayon namer. Ghostbuster slime.
Cons: Flimsy flakes. Adding milk results in despair. Political scandals. Cannot be a trapeze artist.

Cereal Cheerios General Mills

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Special K Chocolatey Strawberry Cereal

Marvo / January 11, 2013 / Reviews / 11 Comments

Do you know what’s romantic?

Chocolate-covered strawberries.

Awww yeah! You can take one and lightly stroke it on various parts of your lover’s body, letting body heat melt the chocolate, which leaves behind a gooey mess your tongue will have to clean up while your lover eats the juicy strawberry and whatever chocolate didn’t end up on his or her body.

Do you know what also has chocolate and strawberries but is significantly less romantic than chocolate-covered strawberries?

Kellogg’s Limited Edition Special K Chocolatey Strawberry cereal.

Awww yeah! Nothing says the opposite of sensual than scratchy rice and wheat flakes on your lover’s skin. Sure, some of the freeze-dried strawberries look like areolae, but the brittle, dried fruit and firm chocolatey hyphens will have her or him begging for less.

Kellogg’s Limited Edition Special K Chocolatey Strawberry cereal looks special because it’s labeled “limited edition,” but it’s not so remarkable because it’s basically two other Special K cereals mixed together — Special K Red Berries and Special K Chocolatey Delight.

It’s that kind of innovation that makes me look forward to other possible Special K limited edition cereal varieties, like Chocolatey Blueberry Special K or Granola, Fruit, Yogurt, Oats & Honey Special K.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog who has been following it since it began in 2004, you might remember me saying some harsh things about Special K Red Berries cereal in another review. I probably used profanity and the adjective “junky” when sharing my thoughts about the cereal with freeze-dried strawberries. My issue with the cereal was its fruit, which got horribly soggy within moments of sitting in milk. As for Special K Chocolatey Delight, I gave it a positive review in 2007.

Limited Edition Special K Chocolatey Strawberry cereal had a noticeable chocolatey aroma, but my nose didn’t really detect the strawberries. However, while I was shoveling the cereal into my mouth, my taste buds could mostly taste the strawberries, while the chocolatey pieces were muted.

Freaky Friday!

I last tried Special K Red Berries cereal in 2005 and it seems freeze-dried strawberry technology has improved because the ones in this limited edition cereal didn’t absorb milk as quickly as a National Spelling Bee favorite absorbs a dictionary. As for the chocolatey pieces, they’re solid so there’s no need to worry about them getting milk logged.

In the box I purchased, there were significantly more chocolatey bits than freeze-dried strawberries, but you’re almost guaranteed to get one or the other in each spoonful.

I keep saying “chocolatey” because the chocolatey bits in the cereal aren’t made with real chocolate, like the stuff Hershey bars are made of. They lack what makes real chocolate awesome, like cocoa butter. Instead they’re waxy, less sweet, and they taste Tootsie Roll-ish.

Of course, if Kellogg’s used real chocolate, this cereal wouldn’t have Special K-like nutrition facts. But for what they are, they’re not bad. However, I wish they had a stronger flavor. Heck, the crispy flakes overpower the chocolatey flavor. As for the strawberries they’re more tart than sweet and I enjoyed their flavor, but my box needed a lot more of them.

Special K’s Limited Edition Chocolatey Strawberry Cereal was a bit disappointing and strange. I liked it for what I thought I wouldn’t enjoy and disliked it for what I thought I would love. It’s also not an inventive limited edition cereal variety. So if you’re one of those people who regularly eats all the Special K cereals, this one will probably not seem special to you.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 110 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 180 milligrams of sodium, 80 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, and fortified with vitamins and minerals to make us awesome.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Special K Chocolatey Strawberry Cereal
Purchased Price: $3.99 (on sale)
Size: 11 ounce box
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Freeze-dried strawberries don’t absorb milk as quickly as a college kid absorbs alcohol at a frat party. Pleasant strawberry flavor. Feeding the one you love chocolate-covered strawberries.
Cons: It’s basically Special K Chocolatey Delight and Red Berries combined. Weak chocolatey flavor. Needs more strawberry. Cereal ruins romance.

Cereal Special K

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Cinnamon Jacks

Adam / January 7, 2013 / Reviews / 5 Comments

Of all the eternal questions I often ruminate on, none perplexes me more than that of Apple Jacks’ place in the universe.

Does it, as we insisted in our youthful ignorance of baggy pants and skateboards, taste nothing like an actual apple? Or does the formula of dried apples and apple juice concentrate really harbor in the crisp and sweet taste of fall’s bountiful crop?

I suppose the answer will never truly be arrived at, but thankfully, Kellogg’s latest spinoff of the ever-popular Apple Jacks cereal doesn’t pose such weighty concerns.

Yes, Cinnamon Jacks really does taste like cinnamon, and manages even keeps alive a fine tradition of creepy cereal spokesmen and challenging back-of-the-box games to boot.

Promising a “brown sugar and cinnamon taste,” Cinnamon Jacks consists of “X” or jack shaped red and orange pieces served up by Cinnamon, the Rastafarian bug-eyed mascot first introduced in 2007 as a foil to the creepy Apple-looking guy who adorns boxes of Apple Jacks. Unlike cereals which advertise themselves as good for you and responsible in their stewardship of the environment and all that crap, the back of the box of Cinnamon Jacks doesn’t send me back to sleep in boredom.

That’s not to say it’s filled up by the usual mazes or cartoons. It’s even marginally educational, complete with words games that make me wish I would have picked up the phone and ordered Hooked on Phonics during those days of playing hooky in elementary school.

The cinnamon flavor is the first thing that registers on my taste buds. It quickly migrates its way into the roof of my mouth to somehow permeate into the schnoz cavity, conferring a distinctive if not sophisticated element which manages to traverse its way somewhere between Wrigley’s Cinnamon gum and classic mulling spices.

The jacks are sweet but not cloying, although I don’t really pick up any distinctive brown sugar elements (brown sugar is not listed in the ingredients, either.) Matched up in terms of pure cinnamon sugar addictiveness against everyone’s favorite cinnamon cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cinnamon Jacks would get clobbered worse than ‘88 Broncos in the Super Bowl. Put up against the likes of cinnamon cereal middleweights like Cinnamon Chex, however, it more than holds its own.

There’s something off with the little jack-shaped pieces though, with their crispy bite yielding to a somewhat disassociated flavor that just doesn’t taste intrinsically yummy to my well-trained cereal taste buds. A quick check of the ingredients lists reveals the culprit: The dreaded whole grain yellow corn flour.

Seriously, what makes companies think that corn and cinnamon work? I may not be up with the latest foodie trends, but I still haven’t seen anyone pour cinnamon and brown sugar on their corn on the cob, while the likes of other corn-based cinnamon cereals, like Cinnamon Honey Comb, have fizzled.

Thankfully there’s enough sweetness and cinnamon flavor to carry me through a dry handful without thinking too much of Kix, but I can’t help but think the little chromosome shapes would taste better and have a heartier crunch if the first ingredient was oat or wheat flour.

For whatever reason, that strange corn flour taste disappears once milk is applied, with the jack pieces transferring their cinnamon sugar sweetness to the end milk while still retaining good flavor in their own mushy right. The end-milk is most excellent; not only drinkable on its own, but added to a morning cup of joe as well.

Cinnamon Jacks isn’t as good as Cinnamon Toast Crunch but that’s okay. It tastes much more like cinnamon than Apple Jacks taste like apples, which is good, because it means that I don’t have to add it to my universal questions to ponder list and can instead go back to wondering about things like how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop or if Luke Skywalker has a middle name.

(Nutrition Facts – 28 grams – 110 calories, 20 calories from fat, 2 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 45 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, and a buttload/cornucopia/smorgasbord of vitamins and minerals, although no calcium.)

Item: Kellogg’s Cinnamon Jacks
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 10.7 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Finger licking cinnamon-sugar coating. Cinnamon flavor is more sophisticated than what you’d expect from a cereal represented by Rastafarian skateboarding cinnamon stick mascot. Drinkable end-milk. Whole grainy goodness. Not having to contemplate whether or not it really tastes like cinnamon.
Cons: Corn flour taste is too assertive and clashes with the sweetness. No actual brown sugar involved. Not very crunchy. No richness. Learning that Luke Skywalker doesn’t have a middle name after all.

Apple Jacks Cereal Kellogg's

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar

Adam / December 31, 2012 / Reviews / 11 Comments

There’s really no two ways to say it — I was a total bum in middle school.

An average day consisted of me rolling out of bed five minutes before the bus would come, then proceeding to rest my head on the cozy corner of a freezing school bus window not ten minutes later.

This tour de force of youthful energy would continue throughout the morning, as I alternated between taking nosedives of lethargy into math tests and exercising my homemaking sensibilities by grabbing some shut-eye while baking cookies during Home Ec. By the time science rolled around after lunch, I was usually in the slow swoon of sleep’s grip and considered a safety hazard during frog dissection.

Most people would have blamed it on raging hormones. I blame all of it on a really crappy breakfast that lacked whole grains and fiber. Suffice to say, I had yet to discover the full, focused effects that come with a hearty bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats.

Since that time I’ve grown up. I’ve enjoyed the wheaty layers of Maple Brown Sugar and Blueberry, and I’ve feasted of the mini-chocolate chip and cocoa studded nuggets of Mini-Wheats Little Bites. Somewhere during that span, I actually got somewhat serious about education, and stopped constantly sleepwalking through preparing for my future. All because Kellogg’s finally found a way to deliver 20 percent of my daily intake of fiber in the convenient and yummy innards of a sugar coated biscuit.

So there you go. I’m living proof that there’s at least some truth in advertising with the whole “keep you full, keep you focused” campaign the Kellogg’s people have concocted, although thank God I haven’t actually started attempting to communicate with the little squares of wheat themselves. A Leprechaun or talking Toucan I can accept as real, but when it comes to talking and smiling wheat squares, well, now you’re just proposing nonsense.

When it comes to the new Frosted Mini-Wheats Crunch, we’re really looking at a different character from the existing versions. True, all three Wheat characters may share the same DNA, but like the British speak a totally incomprehensible language to my well trained American ears, this latest Mini Wheat looks and feels like a copy of Quaker Oatmeal Squares or Crunchy Corn Bran more than a true Mini Wheat. I’m okay with that, however, because, incomprehensible as a talking biscuit with arms and legs is, I find the concept much more pleasing than a drugged-up looking Quaker dude.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve always preferred snacking on individual biscuits of Mini-Wheats over eating a bowl’s worth in milk. The initial taste of the cereal in this snacking approach is more sweet than “lightly sweet”, with a light brown sugar taste that gets some help from malty backnotes. These backnotes make you appreciate the multigrain elements for what they’re worth, and they do an admirable job at enhancing the biscuit’s wheat and oat taste. However, the biscuits are a bit plain.

The crunch is there though. At least it’s there if you still have teeth, with thankfully I still have despite a steady stream of sugar that my dentist tells me will eventually leave me looking like the grandpa from Rugrats. When you do bite down on a singular biscuit the crunch effect registers more than any other cereal I’m familiar with — including, much to his dismay, I’m sure — any of the Cap’n Crunch varieties.

That’s not to say the crunch makes this a better cereal though, as the essential dilemma of the cereal becomes apparent after a few dry chomps. There’s a substantial and really unprecedented crunch if you choose to go in with full chompers grinding, but in that case, you fail to pick up and savor the slow transition in taste from homey brown sugar to substantial wheat and oat. Furthermore, you tend to pick up more of that corn flour aftertaste which just doesn’t mesh with brown sugar cereals.

Forget about either when it comes to eating the cereal in milk. Losing both its crunchiness and sweetness, the cereal is a total flop once you pour in the milk. The end-milk doesn’t pick up much in the way of brown sugar, while the biscuits don’t take on the glazed mouthful and sugary spike that regular Mini-Wheats do. It tastes about as great as those burnt cookies I made while sleeping through Home Ec.

It’s hard to say this cereal is a disappointment because you’ll probably find yourself finishing the box in no time (much as I did while snacking) but compared to the other Mini-Wheats flavors, it’s on the weaker end of the spectrum. I like the Crunch concept, but it needs help. Different flavors might work better and stand up in the milk, but the brown sugar aspect is a bit boring and one note. Likewise, what’s up with the shrinking boxes? A standard box of Mini-Wheats usually runs between 15-16 ounces, depending on the flavor. But this new variety only comes in a 14-ounce box.

Totally not cool, Mr. Talking new guy Mini Wheat.

How about instead of explaining how all your fiber and whole grains will keep me from flunking out of 7th grade music class, you start explaining why I’m paying more for not just less taste, but less food?

On second thought maybe not.

The last thing I want to do is start talking to my cereal.

(Nutrition Facts – 55 grams – 200 calories, 20 calories from fat, 2 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 150 milligrams of potassium, 44 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, 6 grams of protein, and a buttload/cornucopia/smorgasbord of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: The crunchiest cereal I’ve ever consumed. Mellow brown sugar taste. Fiber and whole grains to keep me awake during work. High degree of snackability.
Cons: Not as flavorful as previously existing Mini-Wheats flavors. Brown sugar taste gets lost in the crunch effect. Slightly corn bran aftertaste is a head scratcher. Lousy end milk. Honey they shrunk the cereal box. Talking bite sized squares of wheat and oats.

Cereal Frosted Mini Wheats Kellogg's