REVIEW: Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)

Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)

If the early 2000s taught us nothing else as a society, it was that transposing the letter S with the letter Z in a word made you instantly credible and cool. LOL, once trite and overused, took on new life thanks to LOLZ, while I would argue that Anheuser-Busch owes its entire advertising success of the decade to the phonetic pronunciation of WAZZUP.

Thankfully, we as a civilization have largely moved past this momentary lapse in linguistics. Well, everyone except a dedicated group of cereal lovers who’ve helped bring back Smorz Cereal.

It’s been four years since Smorz left our shelves, and to be honest, I have yet to circle the five steps of grief; mostly because I thought the original Smorz had some room for improvement. Now I’m not saying I disliked Smorz — as far as chocolate and graham cereals go, it was good as a snacking cereal — but the marshmallows had a funky artificiality and lighter-than-Lucky Charms ‘mallow give that made them taste stale after a few days.

Nevertheless, as interweb excitement grew for the return of an extinct specimen of chocolate and graham, I was hopeful this newest version of Smorz would combine everything I loved about the original Smorz, as well as everything that I hoped a mainstream s’mores cereal should have.

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When it comes to the chocolate and graham squares, the rebirth of Smorz lived up to its predecessor and to that campfire taste. Ok, so it’s not exactly a “rich chocolate” cereal coating, but this is Kellogg’s, not Ghirardelli. The squares have a pleasant malty milk chocolate flavor that’s highly addictive when you snack on them, like a graham-flavored version of Chex Muddy Buddies.

The first few times I crunched on the squares I was disappointing in the graham flavor. It’s definitely muted in milk, and not honey glazed like Golden Grahams. But when eaten out of hand the flavor is mellow and slightly whole-wheaty, like that moment you bite into an actual s’more.

But then something happened: my mouth met the marshmallows.

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If I wasn’t sold on the marshmallows in the old Smorz, then I’m selling off like a oil stockbroker with these marshmallows. Eaten dry, they have a dusty stiffness and chalky, sugary flavor. Not a sweet flavor, a sugary flavor. It’s a flavor I remember well from candy cigarettes I once bought from the ice cream man when I was 10 years old. It is not a yummy flavor, especially in milk, where the saccharine sweetness and candy cigarette aftertaste does a disservice to the synergy of chocolate and graham. What’s more, they don’t taste toasted. What is the lesson to take from this? Smoking is not a yummy flavor.

For the most part, I consider myself a cereal populist. Even though I was a bit ambivalent toward the original Smorz, past cereal resurrections like French Toast Crunch had me excited to step back into the world of bowls we thought were extinct.

But in the case of the 2016 version of Smorz cereal, I’m wondering if we shouldn’t just let bygones be bygones. The chocolate and graham squares are definitely good — probably better than I remember — especially as a snack. But the marshmallows bring the cereal down, and, like transposing “Z” for “S,” are unnecessary and potentially maddening.

(Nutrition Facts – 8 grams – 120 calories, 2 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 135 mg of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 1 grams of protein..)

Item: Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 10.2 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Muddy Buddy-type chocolate and graham coating is really good. Awesome level of crunch. No more partially hydrogenated oils. Enjoyable snacking cereal when not eaten with marshmallows.
Cons: Lackluster toasted s’mores flavor. Notrichness. A slightly distracting corn aftertaste in milk that overpowers the graham flavor. Marshmallows taste like candy cigarettes. Early 2000s linguistic fads.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Maple Bacon Pop-Tarts

Kellogg's Limited Edition Frosted Maple Bacon Pop-Tarts

If I told a younger you that “bacon overkill” would become a thing, you’d probably cry and scream “Stranger Danger” because some old weirdo was talking to you about breakfast meats. Still, I can’t help but wonder if we’re getting too much bacon.

Too much bacon?! Surely, I jest.

Don’t get me wrong, bacon is amazing. But when did we all become the dog from the Beggin’ Strips commercials? Why does it seem like Big Bacon is trying to take over our lives?

I guess its bacon’s world and we’re all just living in it.

Mini rant aside, I was excited to try Frosted Maple Bacon Pop-Tarts. I knew I had to have them the second I saw them because I’m part of the problem.

After opening the pouch I was met with a welcome pancake smell. Each pastry has the standard white frosting with brown flecks that I assume are bacon flavored. I’ll get back to that in a moment. The filling itself has a nice maple scent and an appropriate light brown coloring.

I’m normally an “eat ’em right out of the pouch” kinda guy, but for the sake of this review, I did my due diligence and tried them toasted and untoasted. I opted against the “heat in the microwave for 3 seconds” option.

I set my rarely used toaster to medium heat and waited for what felt like an hour. A watched toaster never toasts.

The flavor was faint with the maple far outweighing the “bacon.” I’d go as far to say the toasted crust and (vanilla?) frosting were the most prominent flavors. There’s just not enough of a filling to crust ratio to really get a ton of the maple bacon flavor. That’s a universal Pop-Tart problem for me.

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I scraped a few of the brown flecks off the icing, and while they did have a salty flavor to them, they didn’t scream “bacon.” I’m really only assuming they were the bacon element. I even cut one of the Pop-Tarts open and scraped the filling out with a knife so I could taste it. No bacon, it just was salty.

While I don’t know how it would have worked, I definitely think these would have benefitted from having little pieces of real bacon instead of being “artificially flavored.”

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The maple taste is the one that stands out, but even that should have been more powerful. It didn’t taste like I just ate a pancake with a big glob of maple syrup, it tasted like I ate one 20 minutes prior. They seem to have kept the maple intensity low so that the artificial phantom bacon could burst through, but it doesn’t.

I wish they swung for the fences more with this flavor. It could have been truly memorable. I definitely preferred them untoasted because there was a better balance, but, again, there wasn’t enough bacon flavor. Normally I’d tell you a wacky product like this is worth a try simply for the novelty of it, but I don’t think you even need to bother.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 210 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 15 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Maple Bacon Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 pastries/box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Decent Maple flavor. Not terrible untoasted, Ambitious idea. Beggin’ Strips Dog.
Cons: Gimmicky. No actual bacon. Mild bacon taste at best. Stranger Dangers. Pop-Tart microwave instructions.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal

Kellogg's Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal

Frankly, I blame adults.

They are, after all, the ones leading cereal companies. They’re the ones trying to come up with ways to stop sliding cereal sales, but when they’re not too busy putting quinoa and Sprouted Grains into my breakfast bowl, they’re forgetting what it’s like to be a kid.

How else can we explain the fact that no one has made peanut butter and jelly cereal before? If they would have only asked us kids (ok, slightly balding upper twenty-somethings, too) then we could have told them the next great cereal flavor was right under their noses the whole time.

Any kid with a crowded cereal pantry, taste buds, and a bit of imagination probably already knew it was a good combination. I’m probably not the only person to combine Cap’n Crunch’s Peanut Butter Crunch and Whoops All Berries in the same bowl, so I’m guessing many of you expected as much. But in case any anxious food company executives still needed convincing, Jif’s PB&J Strawberry Cereal should put fears to rest.

I was a bit skeptical, too. A year and a half ago I wrote that Jif’s cereal was good, but it wasn’t as peanut buttery as other peanut butter cereals. To a certain extent this is still true; the brown sugar and molasses flavor gives each square an almost kettle corn quality, while the squares aren’t quite as roasted or developed in flavor as Peanut Butter Crunch. But the peanut butter flavor is better than it used to be, and works especially well when mixed with the small spheres of strawberry cereal.

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I’m glad Jif lived up to its slogan and was choosy with their choice of jelly for the cereal: whether you like strawberry or grape jelly doesn’t matter so much, because you’re going to like the fact that the red corn spheres taste more than just vaguely fruity. They’re much better than Crunch Berries in that they have a distinct strawberry flavor that is both ultra-sweet but also slightly tart; in other words, the perfect foil to the salty, molasses and brown sugar flavor of the peanut butter squares.

It’s when these two flavors come together that the unmistakable synergy that is PB&J takes over. As you crunch down on a spoonful (or, as I prefer, a dry handful) the two flavors mix and mingle with the utmost of equality. Just like in a real PB&J sandwich, the jelly flavor takes center stage first, but it quickly gives way to a salty peanut flavor.

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There’s a kettle corn type aftertaste in milk that’s a bit unconventional, and the tartness of the strawberry pieces takes a little getting used to, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the cereal just works. It is, in so many ways, absolutely everything you’ve ever wanted from a PB&J sandwich, right on down to the sticky mush that sticks to the room of your mouth and the absence of those stupid bitter crusts that always end up getting thrown away.

When you think about it, a PB&J cereal sounds weird. I mean, you probably wouldn’t stick a PB&J sandwich in milk, unless, of course, you are weird. What I’m trying to say is I forgive all those adults out there for not wanting us to eat weird things. But in the case of Jif PB&J Strawberry cereal, it works, and is something both kids and big kids are sure to enjoy.

(Nutrition Facts – 26 grams – 100 calories, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 150 mg of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 1 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 10 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Great sweet and salty balance captures the taste of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Strawberry pieces actually have a distinct sweet-tart strawberry flavor. Sticks to the roof of your mouth in milk. No crusts. Just straight up works.
Cons: A slightly distracting corn aftertaste. No unctuous and fatty peanut butter depth. The unfortunate state of the cereal industry.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Mini Wheats Pumpkin Spice Cereal

Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Mini Wheats Pumpkin Spice Cereal

This autumn, tens of thousands of students will head back to school with great expectations for their upcoming social and academic year. By the end of their first week, though, they’ll have those expectations checked; or as I like to say, completely and miserably crushed.

Such is also the case for millions of Americans, who’ll be reminded that eating something labeled “pumpkin spice” in August or September does not always equate with being served a rich and indulgent slice of pumpkin pie at the Thanksgiving table. But that doesn’t mean all pumpkin spice products are the equivalent of your 11th hour essay for which you received (and deserved) a D-minus. As a matter of fact, some of these pumpkin spice products are actually pretty good, even good enough to disguise the fact that there’s no actual pumpkin in the product.

Take the new Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Mini Wheats Pumpkin Spice Cereal. When I first heard a mainstream cereal company was doing a pumpkin spice (and not pepita) flavored cereal, I pretty much decided my life was complete. I mean, we’re talking about my two great loves here, and combining them had the potential to answer the “what do you want for breakfast” question for the rest of my life.

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But when I finally bought the Mini Wheats and realized there was no pumpkin in their eight layers of whole grains and fiber, I realized I may have fallen into the yearly trap of getting my pumpkin hopes set too high. Sure, there’s cinnamon, allspice, and ginger, but the lack of pumpkin puree gave me second thoughts. Experience tells us the pumpkin spice spectrum ranges are pretty wide with just as many misses as hits. Would this be the pumpkin spice of the excellent Pumpkin Spice Oreo Cookies? Or, as I suddenly feared, a repeat of the Pumpkin Spice M&M’s?

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Much to my taste buds’ delight but my guts’ chagrin, those eight layers of fiber coated in pumpkin spice tasted much more like the former. The pumpkin spice is sweet, loud, floral, nutty, and hardly resigned to being the proverbial afterthought of vague cinnamon flavor and orange hue that some products hide behind. I thought the spices complemented each other nicely and tasted extremely fresh when eaten as a dry snack. When I sampled them against an industrial-sized bag of pumpkin spice (eh, like I said, pumpkin is one of my great loves), it compared favorably.

The downside of the cereal is that, like so many other cereals, it just has no way to convey a sense of richness. This is definitely a must for any product trying to capture some of the seasonal synergy of pumpkin, and it would have distracted my taste buds from the much-too-healthy wheat-y underside of each biscuit.

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This wheat-y taste was actually more apparent when I ate the cereal in, go figure, whole milk. Unfortunately, the “frosting” of the biscuits is very one-note in sweetness. Unfortunately, the “frosting” of the biscuits is very one-note in sweetness, and it’s not the kind of brown sugar and cream sweetness which, for lack of a better explanation, transforms a squash into the most iconic of fall sweets. Knowing that Frosted Mini Wheats has nailed Cinnamon Roll and Maple flavors before makes accepting the sweetness’ lack of depth all the more disappointing.

Frosted Mini Wheats Pumpkin Spice Cereal is a reminder that it’s easy to get caught up in unrealistic expectations during pumpkin season, and in hindsight, expecting a pumpkin spice cereal to taste like pumpkin pie is like expecting to graduate summa cum laude while also being an All-American on the football team and Homecoming King.

Possible? Yeah, but no worse for wear if you only nail one of the three honors. Because in capturing the multifaceted spices that make up “pumpkin spice,” Frosted Mini Wheats breaks new ground in a seasonal cereal realm usually reserved for Apple Cinnamon, and kicks off pumpkin spice season with a worthy addition in a saturated market.

(Nutrition Facts – 25 Biscuits – 190 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 46 grams of carbohydrates, 6 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 5 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Mini Wheats Pumpkin Spice Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: 15.5 oz box
Purchased at: Giant Food
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Very good representation of pumpkin spice flavor. Doesn’t taste too heavily of cloves, which everyone knows is the most heavy and distracting of fall spices. Crunchy, sweet biscuits with mock icing. Eight layers of fiber and whole grains.
Cons: Getting a B when you’re expecting an A+. Doesn’t taste like pumpkin pie. Lacks richness of cream and maple flavors in milk. Binging on cereal. Back to school.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Chocolatey Strawberry Pop-Tarts

Kellogg's Limited Edition Frosted Chocolatey Strawberry Pop-Tarts

January.

The month of Gore-Tex.

The 31 sun-deprived days of fleece, down comforters, knee-length socks, and long underwear pulled up so high, not even Grandpa Joe could compete with your mid-weight, merino-wool-studded rump.

So it goes that, when in my apartment, I turn on as many other easy-to-use electronic devices to generate heat, and, because I can’t leave the door of my microwave open (radiation or something), I find as many excuses as possible to use my toaster (Toast! Bagels! Waffles! Uh…more toast? Yes! More toast!). It was in this state of mind that I picked up these toaster pastries.

And they suit my toaster just fine.

After toasting on medium, the crust is crisp and crackling, breaking with a respectable few crumbs post-toast. Nipping at a corner edge, the chocolate crust seems weaker than usual, tasting more of stale graham crackers and burnt charcoal than chocolate. Fortunately, the frosting, with its milk-chocolatey, candy-like crunch, does its best to pick up the pace a little, and… hey! Sprinkles!

Kellogg's Limited Edition Frosted Chocolatey Strawberry Pop-Tarts Chocolatey Strawberry sprinkles!!

Sprinkles have the unique ability to make me feel I can do anything. Truly. Nothing makes me want to go out and self-engineer a robotic crane without an engineering degree more than sprinkles.

But back to the taste. The inside jam is gooey, if a bit thin to my unrealistic, excess-demanding American brain. The strawberry flavor is pronounced, sugary and a bit flowery. It may be a little flat or sweet for those who like non-hypoglycemic-inducing jams, but, if taste is any indication, the pastries are delighted to have their hyper-sweet, summery strawberry bellies. Can you blame them? Strawberry bellies are the bomb.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Frosted Chocolatey Strawberry Pop-Tarts A moderately chocolatey duo

You know that scene in Back to the Future II where Doc dumps banana peels and beer into the DeLorean’s Mr. Fusion Home Energy Reactor before it rockets away? That’s what Pop-Tarts does. They take an amalgam of ingredients (some of which other companies might consider “trash”), combine those ingredients together, and voila. Something respectable, sometimes even downright brilliant, is born.

For me, these weren’t downright brilliant, but respectable? You bet. Sure, the crust may have tasted a little like burnt crackers and maybe the chocolate was weak, but they’ve got a decent amount of gooey strawberry filling, they provide a warm vehicle for an especially frigid January, and, friends, sprinkles.

Just. Sprinkles.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories, 35 calories from fat, 4 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, <1 gram of dietary fiber, 17 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Frosted Chocolatey Strawberry Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 pastries/box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Candy chocolatey shell. Sprinkles. Gooey insides. Strawberry bellies. Reasons to use your toaster. May inspire spontaneous engineering feats. The DeLorean.
Cons: Low chocolate levels. Thin-ish filling. Crust tastes a bit of stale cracker meal. Insides may be too sweet for some. All those layers of wool socks. Not having an engineering degree when you need one.