Tag: Kellogg’s

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

Adam 11 Comments

Kellogg's Mini Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar

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.

Kellogg's Mini Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar Box

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.

Kellogg's Mini Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar Closeup

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.

Kellogg's Mini Wheats Crunch Brown Sugar Milk

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.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts

Drew 14 Comments

Kellogg's Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts

I’m going to guess that not everyone reading this 1) spent their adolescent years in the early to mid ’90s, and 2) read superhero comics.

But that’s okay.

(Statistically, you’re almost certainly better off for it.)

All you need to know is this: in the early ’90s, comic book publishers went absolutely, 100 percent bugfuck insane. Comics were selling like crazy, movies and cartoons had people interested in the characters, and everyone believed their mint copy of X-Force #1 was going to make them fabulously wealthy someday, whereas its primary use today is to prop up uneven table legs at comic stores everywhere.

To keep the cash train running, publishers came up with a ridiculous variety of gimmicks to entice you to buy their wares. They did variant covers. Holographic covers. Glow-in-the-dark covers. Photo covers. Silent issues. Sideways issues. Issues with nothing but splash pages. Superman died. Batman crippled. Green Lantern genocidal. Spider-Man wearing armor. One comic writer, upon dying, had his ashes mixed into the ink for the printing of a trade paperback he had written. It was madness.

(Except the last one, that was tight. Miss ya, Grue!)

Why do I bring this up? Because I increasingly get that same “’90s comics” vibe when I think about Pop-Tarts. They started out as a nice, simple breakfast pastry for kids. Eventually came new flavors, nothing wrong with that. But then they just started throwing shit at the wall to see what stuck.

We got Pop-Tarts clearly designed for dessert, not breakfast. We got seasonal Pop-Tarts with winter images printed on them. We got Wild! Pop-Tarts. And even Pop-Tarts that let you show your school spirit. And now? Well, now we’ve got a sub-brand of Pop-Tarts called Oatmeal Delights with two varieties, Frosted Strawberry and Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar; we’ll be looking at the latter. I suspect we’re supposed to think “mapley” is just a cute stylistic tic, but I’m interpreting it in more of the “vaguely reminiscent of maple” way. Your mileage may vary.

Kellogg's Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts Top

I’m not going to lie — the box itself is almost worth the purchase. There’s just so much going on there. On the front, nearly every image and word is set at an angle like you’re eating M.C. Escher’s own toaster pastries. I thought Pop-Tarts had long ago accepted they were never going to be the healthy option, yet this package can’t stop trying to convince me it’s nutritious, touting its 8 vitamins and minerals, made from whole grain, no high fructose corn syrup, no trans fat, plenty of calcium and B vitamins, and a good source of fiber.

(Spoiler: the calories and total fat are not ridiculous, but still not what anyone would mistake for “healthy.”)

The back of the box avows that each pastry contains the perfect amount of icing, which I’m calling bullshit on because “perfect” is a strong word and pride goeth before the icing fall, or whatever. There’s also one of those barcodes you can scan with your smartphone to learn more info, although I didn’t because I was crushing it on Angry Birds and you’ve really gotta ride that streak out.

Kellogg's Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts Innards

TL;DR. Just… how do they taste? Not quite how I was expecting, but still pretty good. The outer layer is crispy, with cinnamon oat crumbles liberally coating it and curvy drizzles of icing. The inside filling is definitely gooey and tastes of brown sugar and maple (“mapley,” if you will), although I can’t say it particularly screams oatmeal. That’s not a criticism per se, it’s just that these could easily be called Maple Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts with no mention of oatmeal and you wouldn’t question it.

Still, the flavor did bring me back to college, stealing instant oatmeal packets from the dining hall so I’d have something to eat at 11:00 PM when it was time to start that term paper. Good times, good times. Also, there’s a reasonable amount of filling, slightly less so on each of the ends, as per usual.

All told, the brown sugar crumbles, icing, and maple filling add up to an appealing whole. Not overflowing with sheer unadulterated flavor perhaps, but a solid effort that you can maybe trick your brain into thinking is healthy if you work at it. Much like holographic covers and sideways issues, these probably won’t be around for long, so try some while you can!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 15(!) grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 toaster pastries
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Cinnamon oat crumbles both look and taste appealing. Box isn’t attractive, but crammed with so much that you’ll buy it just to have something to read on the train. The maple(y) taste was good, though could have been more pronounced. Perhaps slightly better for you than regular Pop-Tarts. Pretty cheap. The ’80s comic industry.
Cons: The ’90s comic industry. Might’ve benefited from a little more oatmeal crammed in there. At this rate, TIB will soon become an all-Pop-Tarts review blog, instead of just a mostly-Pop-Tarts review blog. Kinda dull to look at — white icing would’ve offset that a little.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Kellogg’s The Simpsons Homer’s Cinnamon Donut Cereal (2001)

Marvo 12 Comments

Limited Edition Kellogg's The Simpsons Homer's Cinnamon Donut Cereal

Even though its “Better If Used Before” date WAS August 15, 2002, Apu Nahasapeemapetilon would still put this box of Kellogg’s The Simpsons Homer’s Cinnamon Donut Cereal on the shelf at the Kwik-E-Mart. Although, he would use a pen to change the expiration date so that it would say it doesn’t expire for 90 years.

Like the fear I would have going on a date with a Bouvier sister not named Marge, I was scared of eating this 10-year-old limited edition cereal that apparently wasn’t limited enough because there are still several unopened boxes of it available on eBay.

There’s trepidation on my part because even though it’s sealed in a plastic bag and using 20th century preservatives, I thought I would perhaps get food poisoning like Homer did in season five, episode 13, “Homer and Apu.” It doesn’t take the mind of a Professor Frink or Martin Prince Jr. to know eating old cereal might not be good for the digestive system.

Heck, even Homer looks a little hesitant on the front of the box.

Sure, he looks happy, shedding tears of joy. But if I were to use my below mediocre Photoshop skills on a Mapple MyCube to replace “Mmmm…Donuts” in his thought bubble with “10-year-old cereal! Doh!” his smile becomes a hesitant smirk and his tears of joy become tears of pain.

In order to get the courage to open the box and try the cereal, I had to find my inner Ralph Wiggum and not know better. Once I did that, I ated the cinnamon cereal.

After opening the box and the cereal bag inside it, I was greeted with an aroma that was a combination of cinnamon and cardboard, but mostly cardboard. Although, I could be confusing the cardboard smell with a Moe’s Tavern-like staleness.

Limited Edition Kellogg's The Simpsons Homer's Cinnamon Donut Cereal Closeup

After opening the bag, I also thought the cereal would instantly turn into dust, much like the Simpsons family did in the couch gag from season 15, episode two, “My Mother the Carjacker,” but it didn’t. Actually, the cereal looked exactly like it does on the front of the box.

I’ll pause here to let you blurt out to your computer screen whether you think the cereal was still crunchy or soft.

…

If you said the cereal would be crunchy, you’d be as correct as Lisa Simpson at a spelling bee. Yes, it’s amazing what butylated hydroxytoluene can do. Although it was crunchy, I can’t say it was as crunchy as a brand new cereal.

As for its flavor, it reminded me of Apple Jacks…stale, stale Apple Jacks with a stronger cinnamon flavor. I think it’s equal parts Edna Krabappel-stale and Ned Flanders-sweet. I was surprised by how sweet and cinnamon-y the cereal was and I assumed sitting in a box for years would cause all the sugar and cinnamon to settle to the bottom of the bag. But as I ate them straight out of the box, my fingers quickly got covered in sugar and cinnamon. They also have a greasy aftertaste, which could be from the partially hydrogenated soybean oil or the artificial butter flavor listed in the ingredients. Mmmm…artificial butter flavor. The greasiness makes sense since they’re supposed to taste like donuts. However, I assure you this cereal didn’t taste like donuts.

Eating a cereal that expired ten years ago wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. However, when I ate it with milk, the dairy somehow enhanced its staleness. I guess the milk washed away the cinnamon and sugar, which settled at the bottom of my cereal bowl.

Limited Edition Kellogg's The Simpsons Homer's Cinnamon Donut Cereal Date

I have to admit I’m awfully disappointed about my Limited Edition Kellogg’s The Simpsons Homer’s Cinnamon Donut Cereal experience. I thought after ten years of sitting in a closet somewhere that time, sugar, lack of oxygen, cinnamon, and corn would create something inedible. Instead, it was palatable.

Maybe I should try for a cereal that expired 20 years ago.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup/cereal only – 150 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 45 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 14 grams of other carbohydrates, 2 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Limited Edition Kellogg’s The Simpsons Homer’s Cinnamon Donut Cereal
Purchased Price: $19.04
Size: 12 ounces
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Still edible. Uses regular sugar and cinnamon. The Simpsons. Full of vitamins and minerals. Paid $5.00 for the cereal.
Cons: Still edible (deep down I wish it wasn’t). Milk makes the cereal taste more stale. Made with partially hydrogenated oil. Greasy aftertaste. Made my fingers a little greasy. Paid $14.04 to ship the cereal.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s 2012 Team USA Cereal

Adam 11 Comments

Kellogg's 2012 Team USA Cereal

Ah breakfast. The most important meal of the day if you ask any medical professional, and the fuel that gives athletes around the world the competitive edge when competing in the 2012 Summer Olympics. Team USA, par usual, has been dominating this year’s London Olympics, with golden boy swimmer Michael Phelps taking center stage once again. And what, praytell, fuels Phelps’ dolphin like speed?

Funny you should ask, because according to a Google search, it’s actually three fried egg sandwiches, three chocolate chip pancakes, a five-egg omelette, three buttered and sugared pieces of French Toast, and a bowl of good old fashioned grits. It’s just step one in a 12,000 calorie day feeding frenzy that would make Great White Sharks feel bloated.

Of course, for someone like me, whose most celebrated athletic accomplishment is breaking an eight minute mile, Kellogg’s has introduced 2012 Team USA cereal.

Don’t be fooled by the multicolored loops. This is no Froot Loops knockoff or Apple Jacks wannabe. No, these are red, blue, and yellowish rings of these here United States and its athletic prowess. Taking a look at the Collector’s Edition box, one can’t help be swept up in a mural of amber waves while imagining the sweet, seductive smell of victory over the Russian women’s gymnastics team.

Maybe that’s how the cereal smells in London, but on my couch watching the Olympics, I’m instead struck by the unmistakable smell of slightly cardboardy and artificial vanilla flavor. Clearly, Team USA had a slow surge off the blocks.

But that’s okay, right? I mean, even the Dream Team fights it out with Lithuania, but eventually Coach K gets Kobe, Durant and the boys to lay the hammer down on the road to Gold. That’s it, I figure. The smell is just the pregame warm-ups. Wait ‘till the hand goes down into the box. Then we’ll get down to business.

Or maybe not.

Kellogg's 2012 Team USA Cereal Bowl

The texture makes about as much of an impact on my taste buds as Nova Scotia makes in the sport of beach volleyball. That’s to say it hardly registers. The dry crunch is virtually nonexistent, while there’s no glazed coating to provide that crisp, Froot Loops-like sweetness. A mediocre and artificial vanilla flavor hovers in the background, but overall, the sweetness seems to lack any pop. I find myself wanting some kind of fat in the ingredient list to crisp up the cereal, and something other than plain old sugar to give the cereal sweetness.

Okay, so we’re clearly falling behind here, but Team USA always rallies. So it’s time to go back for one final try and reach down deep, this time with milk.

Kellogg's 2012 Team USA Cereal Closeup

Ugh. The results aren’t any better. Milk just turns the already light cereal soggy in a hurry, and not in that good soggy way that Life cereal gets. Little, if any, sweetness is transferred to the milk, and while the vanilla flavor is more pronounced, who has ever bought a Froot Loops-looking cereal for Vanilla flavor, anyway? Michael Phelps, in all his calorie laden breakfast glory, would not approve.

If Team USA cereal was competing in the mythical (but currently patent pending) Cereal Olympics, it wouldn’t even qualify in the prelims. Actually, I’m not sure it would even be allowed to compete. Masquerading as Froot Loops in much the same way that the 2004 U.S. Men’s basketball team masqueraded as the Dream Team, Team USA cereal does American breakfast eaters a disservice. With arguably half the calories per box as Michael Phelps’ breakfast, I think it’s safe to say it’s not the breakfast of champions, and won’t be leading me to athletic glory anytime soon.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 110 calories, 5 calories from fat, 0.5 grams of fat, 0 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein)

Other Kellogg’s 2012 Team USA Cereal reviews:
Time for Cereal

Item: Kellogg’s 2012 Team USA Cereal
Purchased Price: $1.99 (on sale)
Size: 8-ounce box
Purchased at: Weis Markets
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Collector’s Edition Box. Fun Olympic athlete trading cards on the back-of-the-box.Only 110 calories and nine grams of sugar per serving. Decent vanilla flavor in milk. Imagining all the crap I could eat if I had Michael Phelps’ calorie needs.
Cons: More disappointing than the 2004 USA Men’s basketball team. Lacks pop in sweetness. Smells like cardboard. No fruit flavor. Lackluster crunch. Leaves skim milk end-milk that tastes too much like Skim Milk

REVIEW: Limited Edition Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts

Margaret 7 Comments

Kellogg's Limited Edition Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone

The festival: a landmark of summertime reinforcing the laws of physics with every flash-flinging ride you wind past, and, while all the balloon animals and fluffy teddy bears make it seem like a locale reserved for docile featherweights, don’t be fooled: festivals are not for the thin-skinned.

Indeed, danger lurks behind every fried goodie and clinkity-clink coaster that threatens to hurl your body straight over the Kansas plains. That is part of what makes the festival so exciting: the subliminal notion that you could die at any moment.

Yes, dear venturers, the festival is a place where only the bold dare step, and these Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts are no different. These treats are not for the faint of heart. If you cower at the Kellogg, find yourself trembling at the thought of being sucked into a sugary shadow, then shoo! Be off with ye, oh crybabies! Oh sippers of chamomile tea! May you live a long and boring life.

Now that I have narrowed you down to the brave lunatics before me, quick! To the toaster!

Ah, yes, the toaster. The very appliance inspiring that 1987 champion of childhood animation, The Brave Little Toaster. It was there that I came to understand the value of endurance and grasped the reality that the car crusher in the junkyard is really alive, has googly eyes, and wants to eat my kitchen tools. Most importantly, I learned that small appliances can do amazing feats, and, while my toaster may not be able to fling itself over a mountain, it can sure transform a Pop-Tart, so I am going to toast this bugger on medium-low.

While we await our toaster pastry’s toasted goodness, let us observe a moment of silence to reflect on the values taught to us by The Brave Little Toaster.

(…I hope you are being silent right now, brave venturer…)

Okay! Moment of reflection complete!

And thus, here we have the magic of the toasted I-Scream Pop-Tart in all its rectangle glory.

Limited Edition Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts Innards

Inside the crust rests the vanilla filling, which is ample in quantity. While it is meant to mimic the likes of vanilla ice cream, it maintains more of a gooey marshmallow consistency and holds a taste similar to that of Betty Crocker vanilla icing, which makes it hard to not smile when consuming. This flavor would threaten to overwhelm my taste buds if it were not for the milk-chocolatey icing, which adds a nice splash of cocoa flavor that both juxtaposes (word of the day) and balances the vanilla.

The pastry crust is crunchy and cracker-like without a distinguishing taste, acting more like a textural canvas to contrast the oozy vanilla filling. My first thought was that it would have been nice to shake up the crust and perhaps made it thin and crisp like a waffle cone, yet that would then pose the question: is it still be a Pop-Tart without the signature thick crust? Or does it morph into a completely different beast? A pastry with a new identity? I don’t know, but I could foresee such a conundrum causing an existential crisis amongst the community of toaster pastries. Thank you, Pop-Tarts, for tactfully avoiding such a catastrophe of pastry identity by keeping the crust the same.

Limited Edition Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts Sprinkles

And there are sprinkles! Rainbow sprinkles! The sprinkles are arranged on the frosting with all the logic of a tourist’s map, which would explain why so many tourists get lost every year (a growing problem in many cities). While it may not work for tourists’ maps, the random sprinkling of rainbow happiness adds a bit of visual joy, and I discovered that they don’t burn when you put them in the toaster, a question I’d never wondered, but am relieved to find out.

Like all Pop-Tarts of yore, it is quite sweet and would be better suited for the evening snack than the hearty breakfast. The list of ingredients is a lengthy one, predominantly of the sugar variety. I was a bit disheartened to discover that Pop-Tarts are still mingling around with the hydrogenated oil crowd, but hey, nothing’s perfect, and they do pack a walloping eight vitamins and minerals in there somewhere.

If there’s one final lesson to glean from The Brave Little Toaster, it’s that friendship is magic. Since there are two to a Pop-Tart package, these toaster pastries inspire sharing and will grant you friends beyond the realm Little Toaster’s town could’ve ever imagined, so rip open that aluminum package and share with a pal, or, since these are “I-Scream” Pop-Tarts, haul out the pint of Ben and Jerry’s and smoosh them into an ice cream sandwich.

In the midst of the lights and flashes and winky-dink rides, festivals celebrate the spirit of straightforward innovation, and these Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Pop-Tarts embody that very spirit. While they’re admittedly not revolutionary to the Pop-Tart world, they dare to be simple, a risk perhaps more valiant than going with the wispy trends of high-end vanilla beans and exclusive Verona chocolates. In the midst of an ever-expanding food empire, Pop-Tarts remain humble and they honor that identity here in the form of a chocolate-vanilla square, and that, in and of itself, is worthy of celebration. So break out the toasters, brave venturers, and celebrate.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories, 4 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 220 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 16 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: 14.1 ounces/8 pastries
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Lots of chocolate icing. Variety of textures. Sprinkles. Humility. Eight vitamins and minerals. The hope of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream sandwich. The Brave Little Toaster.. Friendship is magic.
Cons: Hydrogenated oils. Vanilla frosting filling in the guise of ice cream. The threat of overwhelming vanilla flavor. Toaster pastry existential crisis. Nightmares of evil junkyard car crushers.